Post by IONA MORGAN FRASER on Jul 25, 2023 21:34:31 GMT
It was the third time she could hear her stomach growl in twenty minutes that was setting Iona on the path to eating. Not because she knew she needed food to serve as fuel or anything more than the sound of her stomach was an annoyance more than anything else. Food wasn’t much use for fuel when the better option of coffee was always within reach of the dark-haired healer’s fingertips, and the older healers who tsked their heads at her reliance on the stuff tried their damndest to count each time she refilled her mug, and Iona let them believe whatever number they came up with was correct when it was usually off by at least three or four under. Most of the time filling her thermos was what she called taking a break before diving back into the life of a healer in a chaotic post-Enlightened world, but now and again she liked to shock people by taking a real break. She’d brought food with her from her last stretch at home but when she’d went to grab the container it was missing, not just the food inside but the container in its entirety, to which she’d certainly be blaming Remy though she doubted he’d hide his actions as much as he’d make sure she saw him eating her lunch, but it was more enjoyable to blame him whoever the culprit may have been. She dithered in front of the machine in the break room but nothing looked appetizing enough to shell out the money for it, and with another stroke of brilliance on her part sent off a text to her Uncle Mack, let the front desk know she was going to lunch and after changing from her uniform into a sweater and pair of jeans hobbled out of the hospital and into the depths of the muggle world where she made her way to the restaurant she’d chosen near the newly set up apparition points that she used to travel to and from home when she actually made it there. Hiding magic wasn’t for the secrecy laws anymore as much as it was for personal safety to avoid potentially being attacked by someone who feared the threat that witches and wizards now posed on them, despite having lived seamlessly side by side with them for years without incident.
It was why Iona had kept her wand hidden in her purse in the compartment expanded magically to hold her wand in an otherwise practically empty purse, never having much use for the thing other than most of the muggle women carried them and it was in her interest to blend in. Arriving at the restaurant first Iona slid into her chosen side of the booth with a sigh at the soft surface under her butt, putting her feet up on the seat across from her and flexing her left ankle gingerly to try and work out the tension and the deep bruise that was collecting on it after she’d been struck in the ankle by a cart at the hospital and an unobservant person pushing said cart. Given the ease in which she bruised Iona hadn’t even bothered looking at the injury, it wasn’t severe and would only look as though it was if she bothered to look, and she’d relieve the swelling later. Of course later was always a relative term when it came to her own health and needs so her ankle was pushed from her mind when she spotted her Uncle and waved him over, pulling her feet down and standing to hug him in greeting before they both sat, “Thanks for having lunch with me last minute. Hope you weren’t busy with something and cancelled it though. I’d have made do on my own.” She greeted. Not that she was going to complain if he had cancelled other plans to have lunch with her, as due to no one’s fault but her own she didn’t get to see much of her Uncle other than when they crossed paths at the house when she was busy brewing the potions for the household and taking care of other duties she’d taken over as her own. Sitting at the table over a cup of coffee in the interim when she was still staving off the sleep that was aching to claim her with him was always one of her favorite parts of the day. She had a cup of it now, having ordered it while waiting for Mack, and the waiter was quick to approach the table again now that the other party was present and get Mack’s drink order and leave the menus that’d been neglected to be left the first time around. “I think he thinks you’re paying. He barely said two words to me when he approached earlier.” She told her uncle with an amused chuckle her hand around her coffee for its warmth as she opened the menu with her other hand.
It was why Iona had kept her wand hidden in her purse in the compartment expanded magically to hold her wand in an otherwise practically empty purse, never having much use for the thing other than most of the muggle women carried them and it was in her interest to blend in. Arriving at the restaurant first Iona slid into her chosen side of the booth with a sigh at the soft surface under her butt, putting her feet up on the seat across from her and flexing her left ankle gingerly to try and work out the tension and the deep bruise that was collecting on it after she’d been struck in the ankle by a cart at the hospital and an unobservant person pushing said cart. Given the ease in which she bruised Iona hadn’t even bothered looking at the injury, it wasn’t severe and would only look as though it was if she bothered to look, and she’d relieve the swelling later. Of course later was always a relative term when it came to her own health and needs so her ankle was pushed from her mind when she spotted her Uncle and waved him over, pulling her feet down and standing to hug him in greeting before they both sat, “Thanks for having lunch with me last minute. Hope you weren’t busy with something and cancelled it though. I’d have made do on my own.” She greeted. Not that she was going to complain if he had cancelled other plans to have lunch with her, as due to no one’s fault but her own she didn’t get to see much of her Uncle other than when they crossed paths at the house when she was busy brewing the potions for the household and taking care of other duties she’d taken over as her own. Sitting at the table over a cup of coffee in the interim when she was still staving off the sleep that was aching to claim her with him was always one of her favorite parts of the day. She had a cup of it now, having ordered it while waiting for Mack, and the waiter was quick to approach the table again now that the other party was present and get Mack’s drink order and leave the menus that’d been neglected to be left the first time around. “I think he thinks you’re paying. He barely said two words to me when he approached earlier.” She told her uncle with an amused chuckle her hand around her coffee for its warmth as she opened the menu with her other hand.