( tea is a vice as much as platitudes and pleasantries are; a regular occurance in he morton househole and calming in the near-daily repetition if not the herbal blends themselves. eggsy offers tea and she nods with stiff enthusiasim — yes please god tea; anything — before forcing a little smile. )

That sounds lovely. Yes, please.

( and roxy will follow him into the kitchen; help so much as to bring down a pair of mugs from the cupboard before retiring to lean against the counter and watch eggsy busy himself with the kettle. it's not an uncomfortable silence betweeen them by any mean, but it's weighted with anticipation and she doesn't look directly at eggsy when she speaks — no, the tiled floor has suddenly become incredibly interesting. )

Percival is in the hospital.

( are those floral patterns? how cute. )

An A&E in Germany, specifically. Not our medical ward.

( and the grout was so clean — she must get the number of the cleaning company michelle employeed. )

He's alive, but in critical condition. Merlin notified me on a professional level, but then my mother called me too.