Guilt is never to be doubted.

who i was THEN

                     &&

                    who i am NOW

are two VASTLY different people

[ You totally don't have to, but this is a thing I'm actually getting really excited about. ]

Emery had always assumed that solitaire was a solitary game, but then again, she didn’t really play games with anyone, though, she could be persuaded into a game of chess when the opportunity arose, and she was fully capable of playing poker when the job called for it - though, Emery knew she had an addictive personality towards gambling games, thus, leaving her trying to avoid them whenever possible. She had enough addictions in her life; she didn’t need to add money problems to the list.

Though, pathological liars were known the cheat more than other people. Not that Emery thought she’d have the luck to hold it out, however.

Stubborn was one, well rounded, way to describe the thirty year old Scots-Irishwoman. If fact, it might be the only way when it came to certain things, but in the moment Emery knew that if she could find someone versed in medical procedures that wouldn’t be asking a plethora of questions if she showed up with a bullet wound in her gut, she was going to do all she could to make sure he didn’t get away. Granted, she was going to try and make sure that she didn’t end up with a gaping stomach wound, but the universe wasn’t always her friend.

Yes, it was true that Emery hated London with a burning passion, but it was the hub of European civilization and this was where she found the most work or at least where most people preferred to do business. She’d give anything to be back in Scotland, however, and that was why she still held a small house up towards Edinburgh for when she really needed to get away from everything. Meeting another Scotsman in London was mildly refreshing, if just knowing that someone else was probably as miserable as she was. 

Emery didn’t drink coffee anyway, another black mark in her book, but she wasn’t liable to change that any time soon. If he’d offered tea or something a bit stronger she’d been on it like white on rice.

"Yeah ookay," she half-chuckled. "Ah’ll make sure tha’ Ah call a’ead if Ah en’ up wit’ a fa’al injureh."

Well it was a start.

It was. Please, do feel free to inform his delightful secretary that, as he had tried at it usually ended badly for him. Well, badly in the sense that he was mildly insulted, ignored for the rest of the day and given all the paperwork as punishment for his rudeness. Which was pretty fucking badly in his book, thank you very much. He had to put up with quite a lot in order to actually keep this business going. The criminals themselves, the people he was putting his life and reputation on the line to help, were the one's that tempted him to throw in the towel more often than not. All of them arrogant and none of them grateful. 

Yeah, he could dish it but he couldn't take it, shut up.

It was the principle of it.

So, some sort of middle was met between them, that was helpful. That would make her future appointment much easier - and he was sure there would be one. The time between the then and now, well that didn't matter. Only that the then was ineivitable. It always was, wasn't it? Everyone needed a doctor. When you were playing games with bad people and fiddling with weapons, the appointments just became a little more regular.

And slightly more important, so those who were late to their appointments weren't looked upon kindly. Well, more unkindly than usual. So just don't do it.

Not a threat. Just a warning. He could get worse.

He couldn't help the slight chuckle in response because, by all accounts, it didn't make sense. But it seemed prudent to lay down the law a little early, just to make sure everything was understood.

Emergencies were unavoidable, but he would be annoyed by them regardless.

"Ma'e sure ye do, ma'e, else ye'll be in the wai'in' room 'till I'm good 'nd ready fer ye."

  “I didn’t know it was a crime to stand somewhere.”

"S'called loi'erin'. 'nd et's botherin' me."

(via fawun)

Didn’t your mother ever tell you looks can be deceiving?

Abou' 's of'en 's yer mother tol' ye no' te be a twa'. Looks li'e neither 'f us lis'ened.

thegriefthatdoesnotspeak

        Did you need something?

--Well, ye tell me, ma'e, I'm the one 'o was sen' fer.

for dyhlanobrien

make me choose: richard madden or cillian murphy

     ↳asked by alysanemormont, titians and zenobriaa

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,

I’m sorry that I survived,

And if I could go back in time

You never would have died

‘Love’.

( she needed a drink. or to fuck off and sleep for a few days. )

On a scale of one to ten, how ass-backwards is it that I think I like the other you better.

[ Oh, there were innumerable responses dancing around his mind at that, how it would be impossible to place a number upon her mental state because he wasn't that sort of doctor and he was certain her mind was a scary place, but he wouldn't.

And he wasn't sure whether or not it was his curse, or his own doing that stopped it. ]

--S'understandable.

[ Fucking fuck. ]

'thursday' (x)

— … Sage.

( noun        1. a profoundly wise person ; a person famed for wisdom.        2. someone venerated for the possession of wisdom, judgment, and experience. adjective        3. wise, judicious, or prudent: sage advice. noun        4. any plant or shrub belonging to the genus Salvia, of the mint family.       5. an herb, Salvia officinalis, whose grayish-green leaves are used in medicine and for           seasoning in cookery.       6. the leaves themselves.       7. sagebrush.

so either she was wise well beyond her years, or she was a tenacious, stubborn little evergreen herb with healing properties — only time, as they say, would tell if one, the other, or both were true.

really, she was quite sure she’d only told him because she was starting to like him, just a bit ; he was funny but without trying too hard, or seeming to try at all, and it was a pleasant shift away from the more exuberant, overstated humour of boys her own age, always pushing to be faster on the draw — or cruder, if not. embarrassing, really ; not to mention distasteful.

that, and this one treated her like a person, not a child ; like a valid individual rather than some intellectual freak of nature & consequent pariah. comfortable seemed to be the most pertinent word — a rarity, that. )

Medical school. Lembert stitch where your cuff fell apart and you had to repair it, just there.

( an indicative flick of eyes down to his left wrist. )

A stitch or series of stitches made to secure apposition of the edges of a surgical or traumatic wound.

( pause. )

I read. Before you ask.

[ Well didn't that just make him pause and sit up a little straighter. All things put aside, all his social ineptitude and that other lark that everyone here at this ridiculous - yet prestigious, go figure - school insisted was vitally important for his chosen career, he was a little bit brilliant. He could do the work. He could use his hands, absorb the practical information dolled out to them within minute, given the opportunity to perform it himself. It was when he was forced to stare at a fucking whiteboard all day his brain melted into white noise. He did things.

So, while he clearly wasn't on the same intellectual playing field as this little mouse, let alone with the rest of his colleagues, he wasn't completely simple. He could successfully stitch, as she herself had observed. He could do that with little to no thought, a last minute task as he rushed out the door already ten minutes late to his lecture.

Wasn't a complete loss to him, but apparently they take note of shite like that around here. Who knew, right?

With the slightest of twitches at the corner of his mouth, he glanced down at the mending in question. She was right, he couldn't argue that, though he'd certainly like to. He was never a fan of people smarter than him, but really, he wasn't a fan of people in general. But she was tiny, fast with her words and apparently a little genius. Fuck, lesser men than him would be gaping at her and begging her to recite the periodic table or some shite.

He really hoped she wouldn't have complied. ]

--Wasnae goin' te, genius. Bu', since ye told me, I'd respec'fully li'e te say fuck ye, 'cause exams will kill me and ye're twelve.

[ A pause. A huff, almost laughter, but she hadn't earned something so familiar quite yet. Always so defensive, lad, did something make you thus? ]

S'tha' why ye're here, show off te all the medical studen's? 'cause well done, I'd do tha'.