Who: Dr. Moreau OT Jean When: [backdated] Feb. 3, midmorning Where: Starts at the Haven What: They were together, now they're apart. The question becomes: is this for now or forever?
It would be very easy to say that Dr. Moreau had gotten through the days since talking to Jean with the same ease he had gone through them previously. Unfortunately, that was not true. He was uneasy, but only because there was something there. It felt like there was an elephant in the room. Something unspoken which needed to be voiced. Granted, maybe it had always been there and only now did he truthfully acknowledge it. Or maybe it was newly birthed from this present circumstance.
Whatever the origin, the beast was there and it was disturbing what little tranquility he normally found in the solace of his work. The dream, in all its glory, refused to completely fade away into the subconscious (something Essex recognized as making it more than a simple dream) making it simply one more thing he had to consider. It made his nights restless and he found himself, more and more, in a laboratory which felt alien. He took his tea and coffee alone, ate without company, and generally chose to keep to himself rather than attempting to fill his hours with even the simplest of conversation. (Essex saw this as no problem because he was laying plans of his own, underneath the thinking of the good doctor.)
Then it became Thursday morning and it was time to go collect Jean from the Haven where she had taken up residence. However, he was still uneasy. Why had she agreed to come when she'd taken leave of him it seemed far too easily. Doubt was hardly a worthy occupation of a gentleman though, so he wore a simple pair of slacks and a button down shirt, eschewing the tie as far too formal for such a get together as this. Taking up his walking stick, he left for the Haven.
When he arrived, it was in a car he hardly remembered renting. (Essex had convinced the young clerk he'd given all the necessary information to do such a thing which resulted in the keys being handed over without payment or personal information.) Yet there he was, waiting to be ushered in by whomever answered the door, doing his best to keep his racing thoughts well and truly to himself.