The Nurse Shark || Beth Riley

RESIDENCE: Autumnworth House, which is a 46-room sandstone manor constructed in Gotham Height in the early 1900s. It sits on 50 acres of private woodland within Bristol County.

TYPE OF BED: Oak canopied Alaskan king-size bed. Only Beth doesn't really 'sleep' here as she is a chronic insomniac more likely to fall asleep in the living area sofa. Or in the window seat of her room, where she curled up with a good book or her knitting to watch the evening rain.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: Being born and raised on a tropical island then moving to the east coast of the mainland was never easy and Beth is almost always cold. There are three blankets and a comforter, as well as the most luxurious sheets money can by. Most of the time, she has at least one blanket within reach anywhere else she might fall asleep.

NUMBER OF PILLOWS: There are approximately eight to twelve pillows on the bed at any given point in time, and she actually makes it to the bed, at least one body pillow that she sprawls over.

TYPE OF CLOTHING: Much to the housekeeper's perpetual vexation, Beth starts shedding clothes the instant she walks in through the door, always starting with her shoes at the door. When not expecting company, she usually pads around the house barefoot and in one of her brother's egregiously large tee-shirts. Sometimes with something on beneath. If she is expecting someone or has company, she will wear something slinky, soft, and probably french with a matching robe.

DO THEY SLEEP WITH COMPANY?: Beth says this is such an inappropriate question. {{She would if someone else offered}}

DO THEY SLEEP BETTER WITH COMPANY?: Beth suffers from chronic insomnia, as stated previously, as well as sleep paralysis and night-terrors. She spent the first sixteen years of her life sleeping beside her brother, and even occasionally afterwards when he was at home on leave. Moral of the story is that if she trusts the other person, absolutely she sleeps better with them beside her. Note we did not say *they* would sleep better.

DOES IT MATTER WHERE THEY SLEEP?: Absolutely.

WHAT DO THEY DO IF THEY CANNOT FALL ASLEEP?: Beth might read all night long. She might knit a dozen or more sweaters/blankets to donate to charity. She might lie on the floor listening to music, or she might...*ahem* garden. Depends on just how many weeks days she's been awake.

FREQUENT DREAMS, NIGHTMARES: Since infancy, Beth has had a night terror about a dark shadowy shape stalking her while she's in bed. She is absolutely convinced that if it ever manages to reach her head, that she will die.

DEEP SLUMBER OR NAPS: Beth doesn't know what deep slumber is. She can and does catnap whenever possible.

WHEN DO THEY SLEEP: as never as possible. {{she cannot think of a better, more realistic answer than this.}}

WHAT COULD WAKE THEM UP: A mouse passing gas in the deepest bowels of Blackgate Penitentiary. Someone complaining about '90s Grunge in sign language in Seattle might do it too. She is a light sleeper.

EARLY OR LATE RISER: It doesn't matter if your eyes never quite close, now, does it? "Not a early bird or a night owl but some sorta permanently exhausted pigeon, try an' mahalo."

~*~ Tagged by: my sweet C over at @nightmarefuele Tagging: Hoist the Colours and Raise the Black

20: Is your muse good at picking up on others’ flirtation/sexual advances or are they oblivious?

Little More Conversation || Accepting

It’s almost unnerving how long Beth can stare without blinking, without her eyes watering. Almost as if her soul has left her body, and her physical presence is a sort of rain check. Life comes back into her by trickles and drips. She lifts her coffee mug and takes a prolonged sip. One awkwardly loud for all that she never is, the slurp buying time for words to formulate properly. Glacially paced she glances to one corner of her eyes, vision picking out the space above, below, around the stem of her glasses. Repeats with the other side, even if that’s just a warm, welcoming, brick wall. After a moment, she turns back and meets Cory’s gaze. “Why, did I miss somet’ing?” The question is asked sotto voce. Coming from anyone else it might have been comical, but from Beth, she means it. She was looking to see if Cory had noticed someone trying to be coy in getting their attention. She is asking now what she missed. Perhaps that is answer in and of itself. Beth doesn’t recognise flirtation when it is subtle enough. If it more overt, she shrinks from it. From her tenderest years, she’s had Andy to watch over her, to protect her from the normal predations that tend to strike young adolescents at a certain age. The diplomat’s son. The younger soldiers on base. Various young men from suitable families that could only stand to elevate the Rileys and their own fortunes by healthy, normal affections. Later, when forced apart, and when Beth traded her white coat for ordinary scrubs, those advances became anything but unmistakable. Hands petting or pinching. Comments about advancing her career. Gross displays of hypersexual fascination that earned her certain nicknames and other forms of retribution when they were ~to her mind~ politely declined. So, yes, there was that one time when Beth threatened amputation of fingers if they were not removed to her satisfaction swiftly enough, but thankfully those were few and far between. “I don’ t’ink people boddah to, any more. Especially not when Panda’s home now, an’ we’re always togeddah.” She doesn’t mention that it’s because most people assume they are already dating and always seem to get this funny little look when they are corrected, and told the pair are siblings. Suddenly, something sparks in her eye, and one brow rises in perfect imitation of Andy’s. “Oooooor are you aksin’ because ya t’ink mebbe... Andy’s....been flirtin’ wi’ ya?” She grins, neither shocked nor upset. “C’mon...spill dat tea, Cory, an’ tell me all da juicy details.”

📸

I see your face every time I dream || Accepting