[her mouth twitches, splitting into an incredulous smile that she quickly turns away with, letting out her breath in a gentle scoff to keep from laughing.]
Indeed, no one is free from the nonsense. I won't feel sorry for you.
[He saw that. As determined as she is to pretend she has no emotions, that was definitely an actual smile. And he's certain that huff was a camouflaged laugh. So this is what it takes to amuse her? At least someone is getting something out of the coat, he guesses, but she'd better not hope for a repeat performance.
He points an accusing finger.] You have never felt sorry for me in your life.
[Well, now he looks like a jerk. Nothing new in their acquaintance (nothing new in pretty much any of his acquaintances), but this time he'll admit it is, actually, the case.]
...Went too far with that. Sorry.
[For your struggles in the past. She hadn't even known most of them, and has surely forgotten more by now. But it mattered, then, and matters now.
("You don't just stop being friends with someone.")
Too storybook, huh? That's one way to put it all. He glances around the garden, back over his shoulder at the twinkling lights of the ballroom.]
Mm. Many a tale has a ball, a garden... [a serendipitous meeting of individuals whose lives intertwine...]
Simply standing here leaves you open to such things. But keeping your guard up may not serve you well in such cases. [destiny seldom cares, but people do.]
[with a sprinkling of haughtiness:] If it was for me, why would I speak to it aloud in such a way? [she turns her head to peer at him sidelong.] I'm passing along wisdom I seldom share, Wolfwood. Consider it a gift and do as you like with it.
[She's been so guarded in this world, at this age. Not the sharp defensiveness of when she was younger (or...less of it). But walls built over time, and carefully maintained for just as long.
Pot, kettle, black. Isn't he supposed to know better by now? But old habits make everything easier.]
[her mouth turns up slightly before she turns away again, tilting her head as her ears pick up on the music flowing through the windows on the building's upper floors. her exhale comes with a drooping of her shoulders.]
Meanwhile, the advice for me...must be to return to where my attention may be most necessary. [but not necessarily wanted.] Which, it seems, means we'll part ways for a time. Since you mean to escape the night.
Don't think maybe you're supposed to be open to taking a break?
[She does worse at hiding how tired the idea of going back inside seems to make her than she does at hiding her little part-smiles, and she hasn't had a flawless success rate with that either.]
[she takes a moment to pick at his words and look for meanings under meaning that might hide there...all in speculation, of course - all built from scenarios lived through many times over. difference here: this is the first scenario with Wolfwood himself within it.]
Compared to now? Are you suggesting break or breakaway, I wonder.
[Ah, she let him see that one. Maybe it's a compromise, considering that she is indeed not listening, or heeding, or whatever.
The accusation of laziness does sting a bit, but he's pretty sure she's leveled the same accusation somewhere in their past. Probably. And in this world, it's truer than it's been before. On the last Earth, there were kids to look after, churches to volunteer with, gardens to help with, and sometimes the universe to save. And in his own world, of course, he'd kept...busy. Here, though, with all the magic and established hierarchies around, he's taken more of a back seat.
[with a dry note:] Didn't you notice? The ballroom has quite the array. Were none of them to your tastes? [or is he off to partake now? admittedly, she didn't expect to hear his long-legged strides behind her.]
A few of them are. A lot of it's too sweet, though. [He wants a drink, not dessert.
He keeps those strides in check enough to stay behind her. He got used to playing rearguard, and besides, they usually have an easier time talking when it's not face to face. The kind of people they are like to limit how much they give away at any one time.]
[He, in turn, looks down to meet her reflection's eyes. There's probably some kind of metaphor to be found in that, only looking directly at each other through the shadows they cast on the glass. He's not fanciful enough to come up with it, though (and there's something painful in keeping the thought long enough to try).
Best to just be relieved their reflections aren't trying to kill them.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mycrosstobear) wrote2021-11-14 03:26 pm
no subject
Some butler-type. Old guy with a big curly mustache.
[Wolfwood will remember this.]
no subject
...You...actually were forced to dress?
no subject
[Cecelia, how many times have you ever seen him in something other than a rumpled black suit with no tie?
Not that he can actually come up with a number, but it'd be a small number, is his point.]
no subject
[her mouth twitches, splitting into an incredulous smile that she quickly turns away with, letting out her breath in a gentle scoff to keep from laughing.]
Indeed, no one is free from the nonsense. I won't feel sorry for you.
no subject
He points an accusing finger.] You have never felt sorry for me in your life.
no subject
[she surveys the darkened garden, her hands folding in front of her.]
I wept for you, didn't I? Long ago. For your struggles in the past. For a childhood I naively thought was too storybook to be true.
It wasn't so long ago for you. Couldn't have been.
no subject
...Went too far with that. Sorry.
[For your struggles in the past. She hadn't even known most of them, and has surely forgotten more by now. But it mattered, then, and matters now.
("You don't just stop being friends with someone.")
Too storybook, huh? That's one way to put it all. He glances around the garden, back over his shoulder at the twinkling lights of the ballroom.]
Heck of a place to talk about storybooks.
[The good ol' change in topic as peace offering.]
no subject
Simply standing here leaves you open to such things. But keeping your guard up may not serve you well in such cases. [destiny seldom cares, but people do.]
no subject
That supposed to be about me or you?
no subject
no subject
[She's been so guarded in this world, at this age. Not the sharp defensiveness of when she was younger (or...less of it). But walls built over time, and carefully maintained for just as long.
Pot, kettle, black. Isn't he supposed to know better by now? But old habits make everything easier.]
...Appreciate it.
no subject
Meanwhile, the advice for me...must be to return to where my attention may be most necessary. [but not necessarily wanted.] Which, it seems, means we'll part ways for a time. Since you mean to escape the night.
no subject
[She does worse at hiding how tired the idea of going back inside seems to make her than she does at hiding her little part-smiles, and she hasn't had a flawless success rate with that either.]
"May be" ain't the same as "has to be."
no subject
Compared to now? Are you suggesting break or breakaway, I wonder.
no subject
I'm suggesting you don't have to go back in if you don't want to.
no subject
What I want really isn't what's important here.
no subject
Y'know, even I knew you had to take a few hours off now and then.
[It didn't always work, in that it was perfectly likely he'd just pass out and have nightmares for those hours. But attempts were made.]
no subject
no subject
[It's more that he knows what it looks like when you forget yourself because of what you "need" to do.
It wears you down, blinds you to options. And eventually probably just makes things worse.]
But you're not going to listen, are you?
[Wolfwood, after all, isn't nearly as good at breaking through to people as Vash.]
no subject
I always listen, Wolfwood; it's a matter of heeding you're on about. And I'm afraid there's a few things which overrule you in that regard.
[that said, she shrugs her sparkly, sheer shawl up over her shoulders and starts to walk down the footpath back toward the doors.]
Shame, though; I can't say I could predict what a break would look like in your company...you laze about enough as it is.
no subject
The accusation of laziness does sting a bit, but he's pretty sure she's leveled the same accusation somewhere in their past. Probably. And in this world, it's truer than it's been before. On the last Earth, there were kids to look after, churches to volunteer with, gardens to help with, and sometimes the universe to save. And in his own world, of course, he'd kept...busy. Here, though, with all the magic and established hierarchies around, he's taken more of a back seat.
He starts following her, a few paces behind.]
It usually involves alcohol.
no subject
no subject
He keeps those strides in check enough to stay behind her. He got used to playing rearguard, and besides, they usually have an easier time talking when it's not face to face. The kind of people they are like to limit how much they give away at any one time.]
no subject
Sauvignon Blanc. It's dry, but not without flavor.
no subject
Best to just be relieved their reflections aren't trying to kill them.]
Thanks. I'll ask for that next time.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)