John Quincy Adams, Friday Morning
May. 22nd, 2009 08:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bitten_notshyJack's stalking of the island's postal delivery clerks finally paid off Friday, just after he finished his breakfast egg and started another pot of coffee (and only a day after he had inquired to make sure such a delivery was possible). A letter addressed in Sebastien's spare hand arrived for him: Jack was wanted at home this weekend, if it would not pose any inconvenience to his education. A carriage would arrive to pick him up Saturday afternoon, should that be agreeable.
These cool words, Jack knew, had been written in a spirit of wryness; Sebastien had to be as curious about the glimpses of the school Jack had let slip in his letters as Jack was to see his patron.
Jack happily hummed to himself as he prepared for the day's class.
[OOC: Establishy, but open to cabinmates.]
These cool words, Jack knew, had been written in a spirit of wryness; Sebastien had to be as curious about the glimpses of the school Jack had let slip in his letters as Jack was to see his patron.
Jack happily hummed to himself as he prepared for the day's class.
[OOC: Establishy, but open to cabinmates.]
