Henry Jekyll reached towards the middle of the table, and lifted the pot, pouring himself his second cup of hot brown tea in the space of half an hour. He was seemingly rather nervous about something or other – as always – and the delicate cup rattled as he poured the liquid, before he filled it almost too much, and set the pot back in its place.
A rather intrigued Rodney Skinner, who cocked his invisible head at the sight, his trilby quirking with the movement, watched him. His leather coat showed the outline of his intangible frame, and he was observing the doctor sitting opposite him with a mild level of intrigue as to the man's overly jittery behaviour.
"You all right, Jekyll?" he asked, cockney lilting his accent as he spoke, looking down into his own empty cup.
Henry Jekyll darted his eyes up to Skinner, almost as though he had forgotten his company, and stammered a moment – something that he rarely did unless incredibly agitated – and nodded. "Fine, Mr. Skinner, thank you."
Yeah, right… Skinner was sceptical, but remained silent in such a feeling, simply watching the way the doctor's hands shook when he lifted his cup to drink. Steam lifted gently from the cup's rim as he drank, and Rodney narrowed his eyes. Wasn't that stuff hot?
Maybe Hyde helped… as ridiculous as that sounded. Shrugging, he lifted his own cup, and stared down at the residue in the bottom, sighing slightly, wondering when something moderately interesting would happen in this abysmal submarine. He was getting beyond bored, and boredom for a gentleman thief was… less than suitable. Things happened… and they weren't always pleasant.
Underwear drawers of ladies tended to go scattering of their own accord. Food vanished from kitchens with no trace. And…
A resonating boom echoed down the hall, and Henry dropped his cup with a yelp, tea scattering all down his front, and he dabbed at it madly with his hands and a handkerchief, even as Skinner praised his invisibility for hiding his mischievous, and somewhat triumphant grin.
From down the hall came the enraged bellowing of one unmistakable Captain Nemo, and Skinner could vaguely make out the words 'scoundrel' and 'pay for this'. Quirking a brow, he glanced to the messy Jekyll opposite him in the dining room.
He resisted a chuckle, and sighed wistfully, shaking his head, and putting on his acting charm.
"I bet I'm going to get blamed for this…"
Oh yes, life was sweet…