[RL w/ Bertie--Tied up! =OOO]

[dragon_scholar]

Philomel's room in Marta's house was not a room proper--it was a converted study, covered in papers and art supplies, the bed a cot tucked against the wall. It was a rather nice cot, as such things went, and she was well used to it by now, but it was a narrow berth when there was just one person in it

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[bertiewwooster]

Bertram Wilberforce Wooster was in the middle of a rather lovely dream which involved neither aunts, nor engagements, nor any chums attempting to sponge him for spare cash. He was basking particularly in the lack of Madeline Bassett when he was suddenly rudely awoken by a shriek, quickly followed by a jerk on his wrist which tugged him halfway across the bed and left him hanging halfway off the edge

[dragon_scholar]

Philomel took that in with a blank sort of expression on her face, trying to encourage her brain to operate, really, that would be lovely if you could just work with me here, thank you. She shook her head, an decided this would be easier to handle could she see clearly--she reached for her glasses with her right hand, then paused. Right. Tied. Her left hand rose instead, groping on the floor next to the cot, and...ah! There they were.

That was much better, being able to see clearly. She looked up at him again, but didn't recognize him. "This is Brazil--outside Cananeia, sir, and my name's Philomel St. James." She spoke rather calmly, taking refuge from her confusion and distress in formality. Her fingers fell to the tie, fumbling to unknot it. "And you would be...?"

[bertiewwooster]

He grimaced slightly when the filly mentioned where they were- Brazil, of all places! They spoke Spanish in Brazil, didn't they? Well, whatever language they spoke, Bertie was fairly positive it wasn't English. He brightened, though, when she gave her name

[dragon_scholar]

"Oh!" As soon as he said it, she recognized him, of course, and felt rather the fool for not having connected the living face to static images before. "I'm quite sorry, Bertie; I seem to be somewhat, er...well." Her fingers were still attempting to pry loose the tie, and she was failing spectacularly. Oh dear.

She shook her head, vehemently enough for a lock of dirty blonde hair to fall into her eyes. "I'm afraid I have no idea how this came about," she muttered, mind working, "but I suspect I would not be surprised to find out at all that it's something to do with that community online." She gave up on untying it and used the hand to push the hair out of her eyes.