Pris and the Dozens of Eggs

[Guest]

doctor donnie duck must have been at his clinic when pris arrived at the inn precisely at three thirty-six in the afternoon on a very nice saturday, and that was just fine with her. because when this eccentric little artist finished her one mile walk from the bus stop, pulling her very large plaid suitcase on wheels slowly and gently up each of the inn's front stairs, she had a lot of preparations to take care of before she would be ready to save doctor duck from his bare walls by painting portraits. but that didn't stop her from giving the good doctor's door a checkup first, just to make sure.

because of the very precious cargo she had contained in that carrier on wheels, miss pris lifted and left her suitcase on one of the tables in the inn's main room while she ran up the stairs, practically skipping to her lou down the hall to darling donnie duck's room. a knock knock here and a knock knock there, and a wait wait wait. while she gave the silent door a chance to answer she began her humming, one of her slightly atonal melodies that had no other words but 'hum'. as the first minute ticked by she added rocking, the floor boards under her navy blue mary janes creaking in time to the forward and back.

one minute-two minutes-three minutes-four, and then pris was skipping back downstairs to rejoin her suitcase. the very loudly plaid suitcase matched her very loudly plaid doll-like dress, and that couldn't be a quiet coincidence. both plaids were red white and blue, with more blue and red than white. she made up for the less white with very white tights. and very white bangle bracelets on her wrists. and two very white circles painted on each of her cheeks, even her eyelids were even painted with white streaks of eye shadow. her hair, that was not white. it was a very dark sleek black that she had just dyed it the day before. this morning she had curled it into ringlets and then added two black and white polka dot clips, one on each side.

her mary janes ta-tapped their bottoms on the floor as she marched her way to her suitcase almost in time to her merrily minor key humming. stepping up to the side of her table she carefully unzipped the plaid carrier, folding back the lid before she went ker-plop in a chair to sit. the open lid revealed three cardboard boxes that were packed in snug with fabric scraps to keep them from sliding around. from her seated spot at the head of her table she pulled these boxes out, one, two three. and she set them on the table in order, one, two, three. then pris pulled the scrap-filled suitcase off the table, laying it on its back on the floor next to her.

she opened the first box first. fifteen clear clean glass jars with screwy lids for screwing on later.
she opened the second box second. fifteen smaller not so clean glass jars each filled with a different powered color.
she opened the third box third. snug as forty-five bugs in rugs were forty-five freshly found farmer's market eggs.

"don't shoot," she murmured to herself very pleased as she pressed back the flaps of this third cardboard box, "until you clean the whites from their eyes. yolk, yolk, yolk." those last three words were delivered like a 'yuk, yuk, yuk'. because somewhere in that strange and slightly schizophrenic mind she had just make a joke of some sort. what was the joke? only she knew for sure, but it had to do with the fact that her first task was separating the egg yolks from the whites, and then putting three yolks to a jar. because what pris was really making was paint. while she had oil pastelled on the walls of donnie duck's office at the clinic, that had been an unplanned portrait so she'd had to make do with what she had in her bag. when she had the option she liked to coat walls in homemade egg tempera paint.

so crack, went the first egg. and only after it broke in half from the tap on the table did she realize.....she'd forgotten to get a bowl to collect the whites.

"oh," she said with her trademark dreamy surprise as she looked around the room, slipping her free hand underneath the busy one that was currently holding the broken oozing egg. was anyone here to help. anyone? "oh oh oh oh. i shot early. shoot."

[Guest]

Joseph had just been on his way to the kitchen to see about dinner for the men and hopefully Tasha. Keven would be down shortly to help him, but he had something to do first. Joseph was a few feet from the steps when he heard the female voice.

Joseph chuckled when he heard what the voice had said. 'Shot early'? That sounded so bad. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to tell you later?" He came into view of the voice ans stopped dead in his tracks. What had the Irishman done now? She was a kid. A pretty kid, but a kid. "Oh, I'm sorry miss. Um, uh, can I help you with something?" Big mouth.

He saw her holding the egg and arched an eyebrow. Why was she holding an egg? And it looked like it was about to drip white stuff all over her plaid dress. Heh, he loved the colors. This child was definitely unique. She peeked his interest, though no longer in the way her voice had before.

[Guest]

it would be oh so very hard to tell if pris really got what he'd said when he replied to her shooting comment. for by the time joseph was in view, all he'd see from the girl with the cracked egg in her hands was her head slowly tilting to the side, and deep green eyes focused most curiously on him. blink, blink, blink said those eyes slowly as she stared at him, before that emerald gaze darted away. pris' usual habit. of looking here there and everywhere, hardly ever at one thing for more than a few seconds. now her eyes were trading between the 'shot too early' egg, her empty jars, the bar and joseph. a four-way visual ping pong, but for all that movement in her eyes the girl seemed otherwise distantly serene.

"miss," she echoed joseph "miss, miss pris. that's me. miss pris and my broken egg. i cracked it opened too early, i'm without a bowl to capture the whites as they ooze away. you're not supposed to shoot until you wipe the whites from their eyes. so the yoke's on me." it wasn't on her, of course, not literally. it was a pun, or at least to pris' mind it was a pun. the yoke was on her, just like the joke was on her for shooting too early without a bowl.

her eyes dropped to the broken egg in her hand, and her empty just-in-case hand cupped under that. slowly, carefully, there was pris pushing her chair back. and slowly, carefully, there was pris standing up. when she stood, it was easy to see she wasn't very tall - only about two inches over five feet, though the chunky heels of her navy mary janes gave her a bitty booster. she cupped the broken egg closely to her chest now, like a precious secret.

and maybe she thought it was, because now she was whispering. "do you have one?" hopefully joseph didn't get lost in all the oddities she spoke between 'bowl' and 'have one', because that was exactly what she was asking for. a bowl.

[DrDonaldBlake]

A really just exhausted Doctor Blake. came slowly into the inn. a wave to the woman at the counter, and then that same hand went to cover his mouth as he took in a deep yawn. eyes closed in the yawn. The Doctor was actually wearing scrubs, or at least a scrub top, someone had puked up on his normal shirt and his tie was ruined which was upsetting.

Coming down from his yawn, Doctor Blake's eyes fell upon Pris, with her hands closed around something, and a man, standing next to her, looking rather spaced out. Walking stick probably giving away his approach." Hey Pris... whats that there. is it an eye of medusa? that why this gentleman here looks a bit frozen?" a smile up to the man and a nod." Just kidding sir... is everything alright?" he sounded almost normal, maybe just a bit weathered.

[Guest]

Joseph wasn't dazed, he was just trying to gage the size of the bowl the lady would need. He looked at the guy who had walked up and smiled. "Just about to get the lady a bowl." And he did just that, he trotted into the kitchen and grabbed up a bowl that was about ten inches in diameter and eight inches deep. He thought that would work.

He returned with the bowl and held it under her hands so she could complete her egg cracking. "I hope I was quick enough to keep you from getting yolky, miss Priss. By the way, I'm Joseph, nice to meet you." Yolky being said like yucky. He hoped she would find it funny.

[Guest]

such a pretty pretty pris smile was given to her most precious donnie duck when he came in. "honey you're home," she greeted him with a hush hush whisper that matched the volume of her former question to joseph. if pris was going to greet donald with more than words, the broken egg in her hands put a stop to that. she had to take care of the egg first, after all, until the whites got their own home. "sssssssssss-nakes for hair. i don't think they make wigs like that. hm hm hm," her response to donald's mention of medusa ended in that thoughtful sing-song hum. wasn't that a relief, that they didn't make wigs like that? if they did, you know pris would most certainly be shopping for one now that the seed had been planted in her skewed self.

her darting eyes played ping-pong between the two men until joseph delievered the bowl. then her gaze dropped, and she murmured, "joseph and the manger, making room for the eggs at the inn. yolk." was that pris' attempt to make a joke back, or was all of this very serious to her? she was often such a challenge to read, because of her serenly distant demeanor and slightly eccentric way of speaking.

now that the bowl saved the day, pris carefully picked the shells out of her palm with her fingers. then she spread the fingers of the egg-holding hand open, moving that hand evenly back and forth. the movement caused the whites to slip through the cracks she provided, leaving the precious yolk in her palm. as pris made a surgeon slice down the center of the yolk with her thumbnail, she felt the need to bring the doctor up to speed on the conversation. "joseph's supposed to tell me later that he shot too early, doctor donnie duck."

slop, added the egg as she tipped the palm of her hand to let said yolk fall into one of her fifteen clean jars there on the table. one egg down, forty-four to go. pris reached into her egg box, picking out a second egg and giving it a tap tap on the table.

[Guest]

Joseph smiled as he held the bowl for her. She kind of reminded him of his kid sister. She had this way about her. And she was taken from him way too soon. But that was neither here or now. What was, was miss Priss. And her egg yolks. "Plenty of room at this Inn for some eggs, miss Priss." He smiled at her

She was going about putting the yolks in the jar in her own way and he was happy to just watch and hold the bowl for the whites. Maybe when she was done ... "Miss Priss, are you hungry? I could make you an omelet with these egg whites once you're done. You too Doc." He presumed Doc from the attire.

Miss Priss had told the Doctor what he had said and the Irishman turned as red as his hair. "Yes, I did, I shot off my mouth before layin my eyes upon the lovely before me." Nice cover, he hoped. And the Irish accent might even make her laugh. He thought she might have a wonderful laugh. His sister did.

[DrDonaldBlake]

Doctor Blake smiled and leaned into his walking stick some, watching the exchange between the two people." thanks man. you know she probably would have carried that egg like that all day." said with a smile before the tired doctor Blake let eyes finally rest upon Miss Prissy pants.

"oh! you where offering an omlette, sorry. sort of a long day, um. no, not really that hungry. sort of dont like to eat for a little while after ER duty... Thank you though. Sir. Um.. hey Pris. what are you carrying around a large crate of eggs for anyway?"

[Guest]

"no one here but us chickens. cracking our forty-five eggs." pris carefully traded the yolk back and forth between two halves of the cracked egg shell. this was a less-mess way for her to spill the whites into the bowl without getting her hands all eggy. the yolk was jarred, shells where added to the pile on the table, and she tap-tapped another egg and repeated her process as she continued, "happy yolks from happy eggs that will be mixed with happy oil, water and color to make happy paint that will cheer up your walls, doctor duck. from chickens that nest in bushes and get to roam wherever they may roam with baskets belted around their butts." to catch the eggs which were laid as the chickens wandered around, pris was thinking.

"and i would not have done that! all day! shame on you doctor duck, do you think i'm crazy?" a brief but dazzling smile graced her pretty face as she glanced up from her egg work at each of the men. that question, yes that was definitely pris making a joke. the smile would tell that. pris had her moments, sometimes, when she played with people and used her unconventional mind as play material. what was being eccentric worth if you couldn't take advantage of it sometimes?

as she glanced back down at the bowl to focus on separating another yolk she mulled over joseph's offer with careful consideration. "i don't know. about the whites. will there be potatoes?" pris was a walking carb who ate potatoes like there was going to be a famine, having them with practically every meal. hopefully joseph didn't think she was making fun of his irish because she asked about potatoes, she honestly didn't make the connection. now if she wasn't fixated on her eggs, joseph and his strange accent would be sinking in a whole lot deeper.

"lovely. poof called me that." it was an afterthought, murmured quietly to herself as she tap tapped another egg on the table. afterthoughts were a rare thing for pris, as her mind usually kept rolling down its mental hill without lingering often on what it was rolling past. poof must have made an impression, if he created an afterthought like that. an afterthought, in fact, which was accompanied by a rare little frown.

[Guest]

Joseph smiled as he held the bowl. "Ya know, I always wondered how they got the eggs from those yard birds." He chuckled. She continued on and she smiled. It was a beautiful smile. "I like your smile miss Priss. It's very pretty, just like you" No, he wasn't flirting, just paying the lady a compliment. He watched as she let the egg whites plop into the bowl and then added the yolks to the jars. He was fascinated.

A girl after her own heart. Potatoes, what is an omelet without hash browns or home fries. "Absolutely, there will be potatoes. Hash browns or home fries?" He would be willing to fix either. She had captured his attention.

He looked up at her from the bowl of eggs as she said something about poof calling her lovely. And he saw the frown come to her face. Who or what ever poof was, she did not like it. Joseph's heart sank. What could have put a frown on such a pretty face? Whatever it was, it had to be bad. He removed one hand from the bowl and touched the tip of her nose with his finger. "Hey, hey, hey. What's with the frown? You're too pretty for that, let's turn that frown upside down. No more lovely. Just Pretty Miss Priss. Alright?"

His hand was placed back on the bowl as he held it for her to put the egg whites in. He wanted to take her mind off of poof. "Miss Priss, how do you make paint from egg yolks?" Yes, there, get her back to thinking about what has her attention. Hopefully that would work.

[DrDonaldBlake]

Doctor Blake gave a nice big vocal stretch, leaning onto his walking stick once again." I dont think you're crazy at all pris! I just dont know where you would have put that egg, had you not gotten a bowl."

A nod and the hand not on his wlaking stick was slid into a pocket, leaning all casual and charming like." I dont think she really cares how they're served sir, she just loves those potatoes. I heard her squee over some potato buds before." he was teasing pris just a little bit. but hey she got a few zingers on him a few times. eyes where on pris so she could answer the other mans question.

[Guest]

"pretty miss pris. pretty pretty princess at the cinderella ball likes hashbrowns with toast that has jam." the way she said that quietly to herself, joseph might not realize right away that pris had just placed her food order in her nonsensical way. well...it was sensical to her, at least, because she knew where all those odd bits of phrase were born from in her strange little mind. it was just nonsensical for most other people. "so pretty pretty princess cares about her potatoes, so there." that last bit, of course, was for the poking-fun-at her doctor blake. and even though she didn't glance up at donnie when she said it or after, she stuck her tongue out. he would know that stuck-out-tongue was for him.

that was all pris said about prettiness or smiles or frowns or upside-downs. sometimes it was because her mind rolled past the things people said if they said too much at once. other times her lack of response was more purposeful than that, but it was really hard to tell the difference between the two realities unless a person was looking to do just that and knew how to test which it was. it was a worthwhile thing to test, because the results would point to a pattern.

this time while she talked her eyes kept on their task. now that she had a bowl holder [joseph], an egg shell holder [the table] and an egg separator [her hand] she had a smooth system. it was so smooth they might be able to tell that this was something she'd done more than once before. painting wasn't her favorite way to make her portraits, but she did make art this way sometimes, and when she painted she would only paint with eggs even for school. by the time joseph had asked how a person made paint with egg yolks, she had cracked and separated fifteen yolks free of the whites and slipped those fifteen fingernail-slitted yolks into her clean clear jars that sat on the table, one per jar so far.

"just like michaelangelo used to make." tap tap, went the sixteenth egg on the table as she added to her answer. "yolks and water and oil, oh my, and after it's stirred up you add the color that's dry. that color. trapped in those jars." while she swished her palm back and forth to slop this egg's white into the bowl that joseph was holding, she used her other hand to point at the open box on the table which held the fifteen smaller jars of powdered pigment sat waiting to become part of the recipe.

twenty-nine eggs left.

[Guest]

Because Joseph was hanging on her every word, things she said were registering in his head. For example, she had asked for toast with jam with her hash browns. He caught that. She had said Cinderella's ball. She was planing on being at the Valentine's ball at Claremount. She even seemed to be looking forward to it. Yes, Joseph payed attention. He even chuckled when she had a comment for the Doctor and stuck her tongue out at him. He didn't look away from her, but replied to the Doctor. "I would have loved to have seen that. I thought only us Irish loved our potatoes that much."

Joseph looked at her watching her face. "Did your frown turn upside down?" He thought he saw a hint of a smile. He wanted to test that theory. She had such fluid movements in her egg separating process. It was a repetitive pattern and therefor became second nature. She might even be able to allow some of her mind to work on something else while she was doing it at this point.

When she spoke, he thought he had been right. Michaelangelo, that was a fact he didn't know. Michaelangelo had used egg yolk paint? Shamus would have probably known, he was an artist. She gave him the recipe, minus the measurements of course. And Joseph listened. He even spared a glance to the box she pointed to.

But then he looked back at her. If he focused on her, without staring, he would catch the things she said, and maybe even the sub-text. He wanted to seed though her words and pick out the ones that went together from the ones that to others would sound like nonsense. Of course, to Joseph, none of it was nonsense. Some of it just related differently that some other parts. "Thank you for teaching me something new pretty miss Priss."

[DrDonaldBlake]

"Really? nah, everyone loves potatoes. the Irsh, well, that rumor only started because well you know, not much else grows in Ireland." A nod and he moved over pris, leaning his walking stick against the table.

and doctor blake picked up one of the eggs. tossing it into the air and catching it." hey Pris, can i help you separate the eggs? would that be alright?"

[Guest]

joseph was doing pretty darn well at reading into pris-speak for having just met her! and of course as the men exchanged words pris was not just busying herself with separating eggs, she was listening too. "po-TA-toes, po-TA-toes for fun they're a wonderful toy. po-TA-toes, po-TA-toes, they're fun for a girl or a boy." of course, those weren't the right words and it was actually the song for the slinky jingle, but pris had a habit of making connections that weren't normally there. not only that, but her singing always seemed to be stuck in an eerie minor key.

"BUT." she said in a sudden end to her song, "potatoes aren't just for eating, you can cut shapes into them and use them as stamps. but you shouldn't eat the ones you make stamps. even if the stamping paint is okay to eat. it makes your tongue turn colors and your stomach sick." that was obviously something she'd learned through experience. pris glanced up from her egg separating to look at each of them in turn, adding very seriously, "the powdered colors in these jars here are not okay to eat. even after they're mixed in with everything else. it's not even good to breath near the powder, you're supposed to wear a mouth-nose mask..."

by the time her most precious donnie duck asked if he could help separate eggs, there were twenty-five left. pris tap-tapped the twenty-fifth on the table and carefully cracked it open over her one hand before flashing a brief pretty pretty pris smile. "you can help, doctor donnie duck who does do-gooding, but you know it's not brain surgery."

and then pris laughed. a silly, hooty little laugh at what she thought was a very good joke to make. "it's not brain surgery," she repeated with some left over giggles as she watched the egg whites drizzle off her hand and into the bowl joseph held. "because you're a brain surgeon." she added emphatically. just in case donnie duck didn't get the joke. she was such a little nut sometimes.

[Guest]

Joseph chuckled. "You found us out Doctor. Don't tell, ok?" He chuckled some more. And then when pretty miss Priss started to sing, Joseph started bobbing his head from side to side to her song. Her singing was in a key he wasn't used to hearing, but it was still rather beautiful in it's own way.

When she said 'But', it caught him a little off guard. She was advising him about uses for potatoes and paint eating. Sounded like she knew what she was talking about. Joseph knew already, but he wasn't going to spoil the moment by saying so. "Don't eat the potatoes with paint. Got it." Then he thought about it more. "Can you teach me to paint with potatoes someday pretty miss Priss?" He was sure he could get his hands on some.

He nodded like a school child who was actually learning something interesting. Why? Well, to Joseph, this was interesting. The paints she was going to mix were to be made with mostly food products. So he would have thought that maybe they were non-toxic. He would have thought wrong.

So just like a good student, Joseph was paying attention in class. Hey, he had a good teacher. "Ok, so no eating painted potatoes. No eating these paints. No breathing the powdered colors. Good advice, thank you pretty miss Priss." Yes, Joseph was just making a list.

He looked up at the Doctor as pretty miss Priss said that and he busted up laughing. He was laughing so hard the egg whites were dancing in the bowl like Jello. Then she said it again. That made him laugh even harder, but he was so close to her that he was trying not to laugh too loud.

His laughter was dieing down just in time for her to clarify what he had already deduced on his own. He looked up at the Doctor who was now holding an egg to help her out. "Neurosurgery eh Doc?" He chuckled some more. Pretty miss Priss had a wonderful sense of humor. Joseph extended his hand then. "Didn't mean to be rude, names Joseph. Pleasure to meet you. Couple more medical professionals around here and we can have a convention." He knew about the healers, he also knew who went to medical school once because she was bored.

[DrDonaldBlake]

A nice polite smile from Doctor Blake, who separated his egg before stepping around the table and taking his hand. giving it a nice firm hand shake." Yeah, I've heard there are more then a few of us here. should open a clinic downstairs right?"

A soft chuckle and then a shake of his head leaning forward to whisper something to the man." she's odd.. not six. you can talk to her like an adult." Pris didn't hear that, and he was not being rude or anything. Just trying to be informative. another firm shake of the mans hand and Doctor Blake went back to his original spot, picking up another egg, cracking it and separating it.

"Did you know you can also put a potato on a bug bite,and it draws out the poison too. they're really quite versatile. Do we have to do all of these eggs?"

[Guest]

as joseph parroted some of what she said back to her, pris paused in her egg yolk liberation to watch him. her head canted slowly to the side as her green eyes settled upon him for a few seconds longer than her glances usually lasted. was pris letting herself see something? hard to tell. there was a most cryptic little curl to her lips as she replied only, "ma-a-a-aybe," in answer to his question about showing him how potatoes could stamp, "depends on how your potatoes stamp my stomach." the ones he promised her, with her toast with jam and egg whites. if there was one thing pris never ever forgot about, it was food. her gaze and focus dropped back to her eggs, and she'd continue on with her task.

"dandy drove of do-good doctors downstairs, just don't take notes when i'm here. friends don't take notes, only doctors do." thus spoke pris on the possibility of a clinic being born at the inn. it was something that she'd mentioned to donald before, that friends didn't take notes only doctors did. something pris was rather sensitive about, in fact. during many of her sessions with her actual doctor she often took a turn toward the less than cooperative when she caught said therapist taking notes. her therapist had learned, and now used a tape recorder.

when donald leaned in to joseph, pris happened to start humming. she even went so far as to sway back and forth back and forth in time to her haunting little tune. was that her way of letting the men know she knew there was something that she wasn't supposed to be hearing, or was it just coincidence? it was so very hard to tell with pris, especially since she was hyper-focused on separating the remaining eggs while she was doing it. it was safe to say that if she heard what donnie said [and that's only if], she didn't react to it at all.

only when donald mentioned the poison-sucking potato possibility did pris' eyes look up with wonder between the two men, gaze darting back and forth as she whispered, "life savers. and yes. yes yes all these eggs, until we've got all the whites from their eyes. three yolks to a jar, you've got a lot of white walls doctor duck."

besides. there were less than a dozen eggs left, they were nearly done.

[Guest]

Joseph looked at her when she was looking at him. He smiled. It was a nice pleasant smile, no hidden agenda or malice to be implied. She said maybe. His smile widened. Depended on how his potatoes stamped her stomach huh. His eyes twinkled as he continued to smile. "Cool. I think I might get those lessons. I make some wicked hash browns." A glint of white teeth as he smiled and spoke. Normal, nothing scary, human teeth.

Priss said friends didn't take notes. But Joseph took notes. Mental notes. If he didn't he would forget. Sometimes notes on paper too. Too many drunken bar room brawls for the Irishman. A few blows to the head too many and suddenly you find yourself heading to the store and then forgetting what you were there for. Sometimes notes were good ... Weren't they?

A clinic was an interesting thought. Though he wasn't sure the other doctor would be too quick to sign up for duty. It had been a phase for her. One that she had since gotten over. "Maybe, Doc, you should ask the ladies about it. Do you agree pretty miss Priss?" Maybe it would give Tasha a reason to get out of her room more often. She wouldn't miss a shift.

When the Doctor leaned in to speak with him he listened as he continued to watch her. He looked at the Doctor when he heard what he had said. He spoke quietly as well, even if she was humming. "Dude, I wasn't trying to talk to her like a child. Sometimes, my mind, I make lists and repeat things and stuff, just to remember them." Seriously.

Then he heard what he said about potatoes and poison. "I remember that one. Also, if you have to get a broken bulb, you know, and you need it out of the socket. Potatoes can grab it and you can unscrew it that way." Yes, he did know a thing or two. The eggs were almost done. There was enough egg whites for plenty of omelets. "So, pretty miss Priss, what do you like in your omelets?" He figured he had better ask before he went to go cook.

[DrDonaldBlake]

"Alright man" said with a nod to Joseph as Doctor Blake cracked and egg and separated it, continuing on. before speaking up again."I'd make that one of the rules...'No note taking' because it really isnt helpful to have someone you're opening up to take notes..."

Another Egg, and doc blake fell silent, thinking more on that though, a new clinic. one where doctors didn't take notes during office visits. Yeah it would make psychology a bit harder, but that is alright. peice of mind did wonders for a patient.

[Guest]

should there be a clinic downstairs. pris eyes were on the yolk she was swishing back and forth in her hand, focused gaze watching how each corner of it behaved a little differently than the rest. just because her head was bowed didn't mean she wasn't listening. the reality could be the exact opposite, the fact that pris' gaze went so acutely to the yolk in her hand may have been a result of the topic of conversation. actions spoke louder than words in moments like this, especially since the silence coming from her also always had a meaning all of its own.

"a clinic here," she repeated it as if she was letting them know that she was not only following the conversation, but she knew both men had addressed her about it. but priscilla didn't go so far as to give her opinion on the matter - or on that matter anyway. she let her mind roll forward to something else, something far more important. "um. cheese. and onions and peppers and more cheese." a tap tap of the second to last egg on the table, and she glanced at donnie duck breaking open the last egg before looking briefly up to joseph, and then back down at the bowl. "and potatoes, the ones that aren't busy screwing the lightbulbs."

did she realize her way with words? priscilla had a light air of innocense about her as she gracefully sliced her thumbnail down the top of the yolk to open it, before she took a very spritely step up to the table, dipping her hand down and letting her last yolk fall into one of the many jars with a slop.

"there there there," priscilla said with a satisfied nod to herself. she wiped her hands off on her colorfully smudged apron. "ready to be oiled and watered." as pris leaned forward, she pressed one palm flat against the table as her other hand grabbed and pulled two large heavy bottles out of her suitcase. after each was set down on the table with a thud, she finally added very quietly with her head down like she was talking to the two bottles, "i think that's a good rule."

[Guest]

Joseph watched as the last two egg whites plopped into the bowl. He was listening to the conversation. Prissy didn't really have much to say on the clinic idea. But she did ask for cheese, onions, peppers, and more cheese in her omelet. He could remember that. "That sounds like a good omelet." Once they were done with the eggs he sat the bowl down.

He had to wonder what was taking Keven so long. He was supposed to come down and help him with the food. Maybe he had gone into the kitchen and Joseph had not noticed. He was rather focused on Prissy. He wanted to watch her make the paints now. He would go cook shortly. The men and Tasha, as well as pretty miss priss, would be having omelets, hash browns, and toast with jam for dinner.

And as for the rule about not taking notes ... "I agree, no notes."

[DrDonaldBlake]

Doctor Blake smiled and separated the last egg and wiped his hands off on his pant leg. a firm nod." There we are... wow, that is alot of eggs." a firm nod and he tapped the tabletop a few times." What do we do next Pris?"

Doc Blake was curious, a man was never done learning, and you learn something every day, so he had yet to learn soemthing today, so he really really wanted to know how to make paints. Maybe he could make some for pris one day.

[Guest]

pris had shifted the suitcase so she could unzip the big pocket on the top, and her hand was fishing in that for some things. but she paused rather suddenly, hand still stuck deep in the suitcase, and looked up at joseph. for the first time her emerald green eyes matched his gaze eyes to eyes, and she said solemnly to the man standing there with the bowl of all those whites, "it is." a good omelet, she meant. she held her gaze there for a moment longer. almost until the moment where her warped mind would have been able to start seeing things from staring at the man. but she looked away just before that happened. though she did say one peculiar thing more to herself than anything. "drip drip."

then pris' gaze dropped and she resumed her search like she'd never interrupted herself. she pulled out a few things from the pocket. a handful of stirring rods, a handful of paper towels, and the last handful doctor donnie would certainly recognize - the sort of sterile masks that doctors wore in surgery. all the objects were placed on the table, and she pulled one out and held it out to her precious donnie duck. "that's for you," and she picked up a second one and held it out to joseph, "and that's for you. so you don't get poisoned by the colors, if you breathe them they can bite."

of course she would put one on too, after they took theirs and freed her hands up. while she waited her emerald green eyes settled on the handsome do-good donnie, darting between his eyes and mouth. she wasn't afraid of staring at him. she knew what she would see if she did - boom. but she chose to trade between looking between his eyes and mouth, specifically. she had her reason for it.

"you can't." she said to him. "i have to. because the amount of color you put in depends on the color. and the amount of water you put in depends on the amount of color you put in which depends on the color. maybe you can put in the linseed oil, that's always the same. it's a teaspoon per yolk you use and it helps the paint dry slower when you're painting which makes it easier to blend, and i like to do a lot of blending." of course she did, the girl preferred to work with oil pastels for that very reason. "but that step comes last, so you have to put on your mask and wait."

[Guest]

Pretty miss Priss stopped what she was doing with her suitcase for a moment and looked Joseph in the eyes. Emerald orbs to emerald orbs. It was the first time he had gotten a good look at her eyes because she was taking a good look into his. She had pretty eyes. She said 'it is', he took that to mean that it was a good omelet. So he nodded. And just like that, her eyes darted away again.

She said something else, not exactly directed at him. At least it didn't seem like it was. But with someone like her, everything had meaning. She wasn't the type to waste words, at least that was the impression he had gotten of her. And he was usually a pretty good judge of such things. So what did 'drip, drip' mean?

Joseph let it slide. She would either elaborate or not. But she handed him a mask. "Thank you." He put the mask on and adjusted it. He even pinched the little metal bar to shape it to his nose. The slightly muffled sound might have sounded funny when he spoke. "How do I look?" He tilted his head and batted his eyes for dramatic effect, or was it comedic effect?

She started explaining to the Doctor about why he couldn't help her mix the paints. Each color was to be mixed differently. He would have never known that. It seemed like something fun to experiment with in the future. Maybe sometime he could con Shamus into helping him, or even better ... Pretty miss Priss.

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