[Of course she'd complain. They'd be back at it again like last time, perhaps. Her banging on his door. Him having to rub at his ear from her detailing about how he's not a gentleman. He almost feels like he's looking forward to that.]
[The pressure against his chest makes him still. There's a reckless urge to bring up a hand to place against the back of her head, keeping her against him, but he resists it mightily - there's only a twitch upwards that betrays it.]
[He shouldn't. He can't.]
[He misses that touch to his face that brought him such happiness and such despair.]
Dipping? Like what...chips? Or...dipping with dances...?
[ this isn't the type of dance you dip to, though, and realistically she knows that. on the other hand, there's support at her back and her own locked in place, loose as that lock is around his neck, and malkuth leans back a little with a giggle to see if he'll let her try. ]
There's a dramaticness to it, she says. I don't know what that means. I trust her though, even if she doesn't remember anything. Is that weird?
[The weight is shifting. He furrows his eyebrows at it, grip a little insistent to hold on, wait a moment as he tries to understand what she's wanting. A dip in a dance.]
...Not especially. There's someone I know who doesn't remember anything, either.
[Part of him is worried she'll insist on the dip as much as she can in her own Malkuth way if he doesn't give it to her. How annoying. Another part is worried since he hasn't done it before.]
[He squints, trying to remember how it goes.]
[And so, with as much gentle strength as possible, he twists her downwards, shifting her weight as he tilts her body back. It's not some grand graceful movement, but its close. He's leaning over, bangs shadowing over his face like a curtain.]
her long hair feels like it's touching the ground, even if it very much isn't. his grip is careful and strong. gentle and secure. malkuth feels weightless, heart thudded in her chest, not for the first time wondering if she likes height or just the way people lean close. ]
... Lacking flair, [ she replies airily, ] but I think I like it.
[ there won't be a "think" next time she's dipped, but the ecstatic uncertainty of alcohol makes it hard to focus on anything except how it feels, rather than how she feels about it. it's good. nice. she wishes she could study his face and hands a little longer, staring up at him with interest plain in her eyes. she won't break this time. ]
[He says - not actually offended, almost more amused by the fact she's actually offering her opinion here.]
[There's something about holding a person like this, and they trust you to do so. No fear, no worry that he might up and drop her right then and there.]
[Its probably his demons speaking, but it feels the trust is misplaced. Nobody should think like that, after everything he's done.]
[He pulls her up, then, eyes a low glimmer in the dimmed light. Back to the dance. His hands have never left her waist.]
[ very important, fingers itching for something to do and finding the short hair at the back of his neck good enough. her thumb smoothes over it, a kind of new, nervous tumbling in her gut that bubbles into another laugh as she feels his hands through the fabric of her waist now, like they'd intend to keep her here as long as possible. clinging, almost, as she is to him by necessity and want.
a sigh at the tailend of it, smile never leaving her face. malkuth wonders if he could walk back like this if she stood on his feet. ]
It sure woke me up though. [ for now. ] I like your hands. Lucky the person that gets to have them all the time, they're trustworthy.
[It's a very simple noise, that "hm". As if it could encapsulate the rush of feeling down his spine at the caress of her finger at the nape of his neck, as if it explains how suddenly conscious he is of how close she is against him.]
[He suddenly feels very, very small, skewered into this moment, wishing he was more drunk than he is than this light buzz that curses him with awareness.]
[The tips of his ears feel a little warm at the compliment.]
What are you saying? [His voice feels as rough as sandpaper.] Trustworthy? I don't have anyone who...has my hands, Miss Weiss.
[ but she's not surprised, even if there's more fixers who... are involved with each other is higher than anyone thinks. she wonders if those directors danced in the quiet of their office, their home, like this too. their books had been painful. she couldn't help but read them again and again, hod beside her, trying to understand the things they'd never felt.
not in this lifetime, barely scratching the surface of it in her first. elijah had been so young. what was she now? living the continuation of two lives, for herself, for that girl. ]
I knew a pair of Directors for a bit, [ they're still on her mind, ] who were getting married, I think it was. Before they were invited. She gained her own E.G.O. too, born from anger and love. It was lovely and scary, but it proved the impossible.
[ how terrifying, how strong, it can be. if only all the city had their own to keep them moving. ]
[And as far as he's concerned, they always will be.]
[Monsters can't hold hands with others if they're stained with blood.]
[The story about the Directors makes him close his eyes a little, rocking Malkuth back and forth a little as he thinks. An E.G.O born of anger and love.]
[Its almost like he can feel the prickling of thorns around his head.]
...That is why relationships are discouraged, you know. [His tone is dull, but with the hint of bittersweetness.] You will always lose what you come to love. This is what the City does.
She was hard to beat. It took a lot of us to suppress her, [ she mumbles, remembering the way the fight turns, the way she looked so alike to malkuth's own fiery form,
thinks of dying passion and the way phoenixes are said to rise from those ashes, again and again, ] but that's what you'd expect from a Grade 1. I'd never wanna do it again.
[ it sucked. it wasn't even rewarding after. not that the fights really are, but... still. ]
I still think that it's worth to love though. In whatever way you can. I love my coworkers a lot, I... I miss them a lot too. [ even if part of it now is... her own fault... ] But I get it. I do. Lisa wasn't the same after Enoch. Ayin wasn't the same after Carmen either, but no one really was.
[ ... no one really was, her fingers pressing hard a moment against the nape of his neck before she sighs. where the high is high, the low is low; malkuth sinks against him more, sniffling with a soft, sorrowed whine. ]
No one was... We shattered... Even if we're closer now, it's painful to remember...
[See, and this is why he's reminded, once again, of his distaste for the Library. Its intertwined in Malkuth in ways he can't ever dislodge. She was a part of that. Roland, apparently, was also a part of that. So was Kali. Iori entered, and left. It was some kind of black pit, and while he knows Malkuth said it was to do good in her eyes, he can't understand how.]
[The names come and go. He doesn't recognize them. She's loved and lost. He's loved and lost. The image of the Library fades - Vergilius adjusts his grip, worried that she might just go on and slink to the floor while she's at it.]
...But see, why is it worth it to love? That pain hurts like nothing else.
... Because love is what saves people. It hurts when you lose it, or when you never had it returned in the first place, [ never had the chance for it to be returned, ] but so many people are saved just because someone else loved them.
[ if xiao had succeeded, then she would have saved lowell's book. maybe he would have popped right out, once escaping the library. she wishes she knew. ]
The world is changed when someone loves. I think it's a wonderful, powerful thing, and that's why the City doesn't like it. It isn't easy to control.
[ ... unpredictable and impossibly strong, but steadfast and faithful... ]
[And here he is, trudging along his path like a colossus, unable to be stopped.]
[He falls silent at that. Yes, the City would never want anything like it. So be it. At the end, he could turn back to his dream, tear out his own heart, and use the blood to cut it all down.]
[He could do that, if he loses everything.]
[Vergilius shakes his head.]
......Mm. [He doesn't know what to say.] Should we go....?
[ how many songs have played? one, three? she hums in agreement, a hand dropping to wipe at her face as if thinking there's tears (there are, he's a little wet on front) and then the other joins it at her side. ]
Sorry. Yeah. I'm tired anyway. Thanks for dancing with me.
[ not his fault. she's just finally feeling the rush drain from her body, though she still rests against him. ]
Wanna stay someplace local? I don't know if I'll make the walk back to the base, and I'd feel bad making you carry me.
[Yes, she does look like she might just stumble out of here like a new baby fawn on unsteady legs. Trekking all the way back to that shuttle may not be the best bet.]
[And yes, he could leave her. He could also carry her. But the first will absolutely invite her wrath (and...yes, he would feel bad about it, admittedly) and the second would just be awkward. He detaches his hands, one after the other, and nods.]
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[The pressure against his chest makes him still. There's a reckless urge to bring up a hand to place against the back of her head, keeping her against him, but he resists it mightily - there's only a twitch upwards that betrays it.]
[He shouldn't. He can't.]
[He misses that touch to his face that brought him such happiness and such despair.]
Dipping? Like what...chips? Or...dipping with dances...?
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[ this isn't the type of dance you dip to, though, and realistically she knows that. on the other hand, there's support at her back and her own locked in place, loose as that lock is around his neck, and malkuth leans back a little with a giggle to see if he'll let her try. ]
There's a dramaticness to it, she says. I don't know what that means. I trust her though, even if she doesn't remember anything. Is that weird?
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[The weight is shifting. He furrows his eyebrows at it, grip a little insistent to hold on, wait a moment as he tries to understand what she's wanting. A dip in a dance.]
...Not especially. There's someone I know who doesn't remember anything, either.
[Part of him is worried she'll insist on the dip as much as she can in her own Malkuth way if he doesn't give it to her. How annoying. Another part is worried since he hasn't done it before.]
[He squints, trying to remember how it goes.]
[And so, with as much gentle strength as possible, he twists her downwards, shifting her weight as he tilts her body back. It's not some grand graceful movement, but its close. He's leaning over, bangs shadowing over his face like a curtain.]
Hm. How is it?
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her long hair feels like it's touching the ground, even if it very much isn't. his grip is careful and strong. gentle and secure. malkuth feels weightless, heart thudded in her chest, not for the first time wondering if she likes height or just the way people lean close. ]
... Lacking flair, [ she replies airily, ] but I think I like it.
[ there won't be a "think" next time she's dipped, but the ecstatic uncertainty of alcohol makes it hard to focus on anything except how it feels, rather than how she feels about it. it's good. nice. she wishes she could study his face and hands a little longer, staring up at him with interest plain in her eyes. she won't break this time. ]
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[He says - not actually offended, almost more amused by the fact she's actually offering her opinion here.]
[There's something about holding a person like this, and they trust you to do so. No fear, no worry that he might up and drop her right then and there.]
[Its probably his demons speaking, but it feels the trust is misplaced. Nobody should think like that, after everything he's done.]
[He pulls her up, then, eyes a low glimmer in the dimmed light. Back to the dance. His hands have never left her waist.]
So? Was it important as March said?
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[ very important, fingers itching for something to do and finding the short hair at the back of his neck good enough. her thumb smoothes over it, a kind of new, nervous tumbling in her gut that bubbles into another laugh as she feels his hands through the fabric of her waist now, like they'd intend to keep her here as long as possible. clinging, almost, as she is to him by necessity and want.
a sigh at the tailend of it, smile never leaving her face. malkuth wonders if he could walk back like this if she stood on his feet. ]
It sure woke me up though. [ for now. ] I like your hands. Lucky the person that gets to have them all the time, they're trustworthy.
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[It's a very simple noise, that "hm". As if it could encapsulate the rush of feeling down his spine at the caress of her finger at the nape of his neck, as if it explains how suddenly conscious he is of how close she is against him.]
[He suddenly feels very, very small, skewered into this moment, wishing he was more drunk than he is than this light buzz that curses him with awareness.]
[The tips of his ears feel a little warm at the compliment.]
What are you saying? [His voice feels as rough as sandpaper.] Trustworthy? I don't have anyone who...has my hands, Miss Weiss.
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[ but she's not surprised, even if there's more fixers who... are involved with each other is higher than anyone thinks. she wonders if those directors danced in the quiet of their office, their home, like this too. their books had been painful. she couldn't help but read them again and again, hod beside her, trying to understand the things they'd never felt.
not in this lifetime, barely scratching the surface of it in her first. elijah had been so young. what was she now? living the continuation of two lives, for herself, for that girl. ]
I knew a pair of Directors for a bit, [ they're still on her mind, ] who were getting married, I think it was. Before they were invited. She gained her own E.G.O. too, born from anger and love. It was lovely and scary, but it proved the impossible.
[ how terrifying, how strong, it can be. if only all the city had their own to keep them moving. ]
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[And as far as he's concerned, they always will be.]
[Monsters can't hold hands with others if they're stained with blood.]
[The story about the Directors makes him close his eyes a little, rocking Malkuth back and forth a little as he thinks. An E.G.O born of anger and love.]
[Its almost like he can feel the prickling of thorns around his head.]
...That is why relationships are discouraged, you know. [His tone is dull, but with the hint of bittersweetness.] You will always lose what you come to love. This is what the City does.
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thinks of dying passion and the way phoenixes are said to rise from those ashes, again and again, ] but that's what you'd expect from a Grade 1. I'd never wanna do it again.
[ it sucked. it wasn't even rewarding after. not that the fights really are, but... still. ]
I still think that it's worth to love though. In whatever way you can. I love my coworkers a lot, I... I miss them a lot too. [ even if part of it now is... her own fault... ] But I get it. I do. Lisa wasn't the same after Enoch. Ayin wasn't the same after Carmen either, but no one really was.
[ ... no one really was, her fingers pressing hard a moment against the nape of his neck before she sighs. where the high is high, the low is low; malkuth sinks against him more, sniffling with a soft, sorrowed whine. ]
No one was... We shattered... Even if we're closer now, it's painful to remember...
no subject
[See, and this is why he's reminded, once again, of his distaste for the Library. Its intertwined in Malkuth in ways he can't ever dislodge. She was a part of that. Roland, apparently, was also a part of that. So was Kali. Iori entered, and left. It was some kind of black pit, and while he knows Malkuth said it was to do good in her eyes, he can't understand how.]
[The names come and go. He doesn't recognize them. She's loved and lost. He's loved and lost. The image of the Library fades - Vergilius adjusts his grip, worried that she might just go on and slink to the floor while she's at it.]
...But see, why is it worth it to love? That pain hurts like nothing else.
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[ if xiao had succeeded, then she would have saved lowell's book. maybe he would have popped right out, once escaping the library. she wishes she knew. ]
The world is changed when someone loves. I think it's a wonderful, powerful thing, and that's why the City doesn't like it. It isn't easy to control.
[ ... unpredictable and impossibly strong, but steadfast and faithful... ]
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[The despair he felt.]
[And here he is, trudging along his path like a colossus, unable to be stopped.]
[He falls silent at that. Yes, the City would never want anything like it. So be it. At the end, he could turn back to his dream, tear out his own heart, and use the blood to cut it all down.]
[He could do that, if he loses everything.]
[Vergilius shakes his head.]
......Mm. [He doesn't know what to say.] Should we go....?
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Sorry. Yeah. I'm tired anyway. Thanks for dancing with me.
[ not his fault. she's just finally feeling the rush drain from her body, though she still rests against him. ]
Wanna stay someplace local? I don't know if I'll make the walk back to the base, and I'd feel bad making you carry me.
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[And yes, he could leave her. He could also carry her. But the first will absolutely invite her wrath (and...yes, he would feel bad about it, admittedly) and the second would just be awkward. He detaches his hands, one after the other, and nods.]
Sure. At least until you sober up.