capeandcowl2020 | Open Post 002

[They way they look at him is noted, filed away for later. She doesn't do it consciously; observing, gathering information, is simply second nature for her now. She considers, though, what might make them look at him this way. Is he dangerous? Most definitely. But not in this place, she doesn't think.

Her thoughts are shattered, of course, at the almost-hug. That's something. Maybe the bartender is just very hands-on, or maybe there's something else there that Nill isn't seeing. She tries not to read too much into it. This isn't business, it isn't her job to know. If anything, it's her job to not know right now. Whatever Davesprite has been doing, he almost certainly wouldn't want her involved, and she wouldn't involve herself.

The thoughts, hopefully, will fade with the vodka cranberry she orders with a note scratched on a spare napkin. That earns her a few more stares, but she forces herself not to stare back. It's become a habit, almost, a deterrent from having to hear any questions about why she writes nearly everything. She takes her drink once it's made and turns to him, waiting again.]

[Once all the awkward exchanges are out of the way, Davesprite ducks away from the crowd and heads toward the back of the bar. If one thing hadn't changed, it was his need to stay under the radar. He doesn't bother waiting to sit before taking a sip of his drink--it had been somewhat of a long day for him and while seeing Nill back in town was exciting, it was out of the ordinary and a little jarring.

Seeing his old friends usually felt like that. It was easier to pretend he didn't have any. But he'd never say that, especially since he didn't really believe it himself.]

So.

[He starts, moving to sit in the furthest corner booth, gesturing for Nill to sit with him. He pulls a fistfull of paper out of his hood to rest on the table with a pen. Just as he hadn't made assumptions on her drink, he wasn't about to make assumptions about her usage of powers -- if they were still close enough for such things.]

You came back.

[Catching sight of Davesprite wasn't any less shocking for her. Familiar faces were difficult to see. Not because she was upset that they had moved on--that was expected, and frankly, she was glad for it. Staying in the past is difficult. No, what made it hard was knowing that she missed it all. She missed having friends to laugh and joke with, missed getting a hug now and then, missed the casual way she used to hold their hands to keep half a conversation secret. How could she ignore any of it?

With a lot of hard work, maybe some day she could. As she follows him, she works her face into a mask, devoid of anything but mild geniality. Her guard is up, as always, but when he's making small gestures like providing her with plenty of paper to write on, it might not stay up for long. She chastises herself, making herself think about how people change. Kanaya had literally become a nun, Jake had made a fool of himself to the comedy world, and Calvin had actually aged. The unexpected had become the everyday over the past few years. She knows she'd do best to remember that.

The blonde slides into a seat beside him, tasting her own drink. More vodka than cranberry. Perfect.

She takes the pen and selects a shred of paper. Her writing is neater than it used to be, a necessity overseas. Clients were less likely to take someone with ugly handwriting seriously.]

And you're still here.

[It's a test, she tells herself. Not an accusation.]

[Davesprite hadn't changed much, in comparison to everyone else. He had grown up a little, though hadn't quite lost his martyr complex. It was considerably more in check, managed by throwing himself into menial tasks to help others rather than letting himself sit and fester until a time when someone actually needed him. Busy work, some would call it.

Now that they were on their own, Davesprite leans back and nearly finishes the drink in one long gulp. He never got any better at socializing over the years. In fact, its possible he had gotten worse.

At first, it seems like he's only going to nod to her observation. Then after another moment, he speaks.]

No other place for me to be.

[The small smirk that followed it denotes that he actually believed what he was saying, rather than admitting to a simple, resigned belief. He tilts his head in his peculiar avian way, obviously curious.]

Why come back?

[Meanwhile, Nill has done her best to completely do away with her own martyr complex. Once she'd removed herself from the company of people she truly cared about, it hadn't been entirely difficult. But she still worries as much as ever, no matter how much she tries to pretend she doesn't. She dreads the day when she receives the phone call or letter that will relay the news of a loved one's nearly inevitable demise.

Breathe, Nill. This is a social visit now.

She'd take a hint from him and finish off her own drink if she weren't trying so hard to keep a level head. This isn't the time for her to become fourteen again. Her social skills are up to par on a normal day, but there's an extra sense of caution she's holding on to. The time he takes to speak is used by her to gather her thoughts.

Immediately, she thinks of at least four different people who would pay a small fortune to have him be somewhere else--namely, closer to them. But that isn't what he does, she knows. He can still hold on to the people he cares about from a distance, but still in the same city. He has his sense of duty, the one she'd never understood. The freedom to up and leave whenever she wanted to was something she had learned to savored after doing it for the first time.

But now she is back, and she can understand how that warrants an inquiry. Her answer comes slower, written carefully.]

Checking up. I'm not here for long.

[It's harder to write than she'd anticipated.]

[The "I'm not here for long" gets a small chuckle from him.]

Didn't think you would be. You'd be crazy to stay.

[He nudges the glass away from himself with a little still left for when he deems it necessary, angling his chair against the wall and leaning back against it. In truth, were it not for the fact that he knew so many of his friends were still in the City, he might have tried to leave himself. It was getting harder and harder to hide himself. Every time they installed another power jammer, the more at risk he became, due to the fact that his true form was his sprite form and not the human form he always walked around in. It was impossible to hide his glowing orange self without the assistance of time manipulation to get him out of dodge even then.

He knew it. Most people he was in contact with knew it. A few people had tried to talk him into leaving, but it would never happen. Not until everyone else left before him.]

Got a place to crash, at least?

[He folds his arms over his chest.]

Edited (syntax lol) 2013-03-06 00:17 (UTC)

[She wonders if he's calling himself crazy on purpose. It wouldn't surprise her.

The City held some of her best memories, but as time had gone on, also more and more of the worst. She hadn't wanted to despoil the good experiences by letting the bad pile up. And so leaving had been her decision. Getting on the first boat (it was easier to travel incognito on a boat, especially one whose captain accepted cash payments) had been difficult, but once she'd lost sight of the docks, her uncertainty had slipped away. Some people cut their hair as a new beginning, some people left the continent.

Her next sip is bigger, more bracing. She thinks she needs it.]

A hotel. One more night.

[Her hand hovers over the page for a moment. She remembers where he'd been before she'd found him that November when she'd found him near the church.]

You?

[He doesn't reach for his drink this time. He knows she's not going to like the answer, but he gives it confidently.]

When I need it.

[A shrug accompanies it. He's definitely better off than he had been, perhaps due to the fact that he had gained his barings and found something to do other than taking the fall for everyone else. Even if that was, in part, still what he was doing.

He sits up a little, noticing the way her hand hovers.]

So. If you need it...

[He lets the sentence hang. He doesn't need to finish it.]

[She can't hide the way her expression sours at his answer. The old instinct to care for people is kicking in. Her mind considers when the last time he might have slept in a real bed was, or if he's spoken to Rose about his living situation. The latter is highly unlikely, she realizes, but it's still a thought that crosses her mind.

The offer is entirely unexpected. Being offered a place to stay, by an old friend of all people, isn't something that's happened to her often. At all, really. She's always been the one to offer help. The tables have turned in a way for which she wasn't prepared.

A finger traces the rim of her glass as she considers. It would be a bad idea to leave her hotel early; it would bring about questions she literally couldn't answer. But another night in the City wouldn't hurt, so long as she had somewhere to go. And it would give her time to catch up with him and, if he was willing to share, on other acquaintances. The offer is one she doesn't feel like she can refuse.

But she can't exactly write that. It would seem too easy, somehow.]

I'll be homeless tomorrow. Flight doesn't leave for two more days.

[Usually, she'd just take another hotel, one closer to the airport. But this possibility would probably be even more low key than she could hope.]

[Davesprite nods a bit and pauses to slip out a phone from his pocket. It was a prepaid phone, mostly untraceable and locked down. He'd be trading it for a new one soon anyway as a precaution that had yet to fail him. But for now, it would do.]

You might have company. That cool with you?

[He'd look up expectantly after asking the question. There was no indication of who that company would be, but he'd want an honest answer regardless. He wasn't entirely sure about Nill's comfort levels now that she was no longer in the City, or what she had gotten up to overseas. It wasn't his business. But he'd help an old friend if he could.]

[For a moment, she eyes the phone. She's used dozens like it herself, and it's all that surprised to see that he has one of his own. To be honest, she'd be surprised if any import didn't have a phone like that. It was practical, and really just good sense. Even a registered import had plenty to fear from a government trace on a phone call. Any excuse to detain an import, whether legitimate or trumped up, was to be avoided at all costs.

She doesn't hesitate before nodding. As suspicious as she's grown over the years, she can't deny that she still trusts him. Davesprite is a good person, she knows that. He wouldn't put her in danger. Besides, she's sure that whomever she might have as company, she can take care of herself around them.]

[He gives a steady nod and takes a moment to play with the phone in silence, no doubt putting out a few requests to whomever he knew for a bed for the evening tomorrow night. It takes him a good three minutes, but afterward, he sets the phone aside on the table and reaches for his drink.

He tries not to let the silence hang for long. Its still hard for him, socializing, even if he had gotten a little better at it. Especially socializing with Nill, after he had put her and the orphanage in so much danger prior to their time here.]

I can't promise it'll be as nice as a hotel, but its a roof, hot water, and heating.

[By the time he's finished making his texts, she's finished off her drink and is contemplating another. The thought of sleeping under a roof arranged for by him was somewhat more comforting than any hotel could be. A small part of her cautions that it's still dangerous, possibly a very bad idea. But the opportunity to perhaps see another person whom she hadn't in so long was too tempting to ignore.

One finger goes back to circling the glass as she lays her hand briefly on his arm again. She's in no mood to continue writing now. This is easier, even if forming a reply takes a little longer than it used to.]

A roof would be enough.

[She lifts her hand away for a bare moment before setting it right back where it came from, an afterthought.]

Thank you.

[It's the first time in a long time she's said that. Not that she didn't have plenty to be thankful for back in Europe--it just didn't always feel right. But it does right now]

[Davesprite blinks evenly -- she might notice he doesn't stiffen or jump as he used to as a teenager. Still not quite comfortable, but not so intensely out of his comfort zone as it had been just a few years prior. He doesn't offer a hand back, but his small smile returns.]

You don't have to thank me. All the above is the least I can do.

[He glances at her empty glass.]

You down for another?

[After all, he did pick up money earlier today.]

[Small things to remember, but she recalls them all the same. Her perception of physical contact wavers every so often, but slipping into the comfort she'd had as a teenager isn't so hard as she thought it would be. She's fine with her hand staying on his arm and no more. Tucked back in the corner like this, it's easier to forget that she's mute and he's more or less perpetuating the appearance of a one-sided conversation. It's a bad idea, but she can pretend, for a few moments, that this is normal.]

It's definitely more of a welcome than I was expecting.

[Mostly because it had been from someone who knew her. She'd already heard from Rose that she--what was it? Looked different without the lolita. That power had been under control for years now, and most days she ignored its existence altogether.

Reciprocating his smile is easy.]

Always.

[Oh yes, she remembers.]

[He pats her hand reassuringly before lifting off the wall to straighten his chair, scooting out from the narrow space without much difficulty. In a few short moments, he's back with four drinks as opposed to two -- two vodka canberries and two screwdrivers. He doesn't say anything in regards to it, merely setting them on the table and resituating himself in his chair against the wall.]

So what's been goin' down in The Land of Lolitas and Birds? I hear Europe's a snazzy place.

[Aside from the occasional shipment from Lachesis, it was clear Davesprite had yet to leave the City from that comment alone. He doesn't seem upset about it, but he was always pretty good at hiding emotions. He picks up one of his screwdrivers and spins the ice in the glass.

He pauses for a second and shifts his shoulders.]

I mean, if you wanna share.

[While he's gone, she takes the time to reorient herself and take stock of what's happened so far. She's found Davesprite, almost against all odds. A safe haven for the following night has been secured, and possibly a way for her to gain information about what her past friends have been doing. Now, she's getting a few drinks out of it. So far, the evening has gone better than planned (which was not saying much, considering how her plan had been to sit in her hotel room and watch reruns of Jake's comedy sketch).

She takes the second screwdriver, situating her hand on his arm again.

The Land of Lolitas and Birds didn't sound half so bad as it might have years ago. At least it sounded happier than the reality set before them nowadays. She smiles, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling as she replies. There's no harm in sharing with him, she decides. The orange is more tart on her tongue than the cranberry, but she doesn't mind.]

Europe is busy but in a different way. It's easier to get around there.

[A small hint of her own.]

[That earns her a slightly raised eyebrow. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Even with their friendship and the way they had grown up as teenagers, Nill had struck him as someone who could take care of herself even if she often appeared as someone who needed to be protected. Looks never said a lot about an import, he found out as he got older.

In truth, life in the City was extremely suffocating. The urge to leave was great, especially since he could do so fairly easily if he really wanted. Power jammers made it harder, but not impossible.]

Honest livings are important.

[He can't hide the knowing little smirk.]

[She hides her dismay with another sip of the drink. She wonders who told him. The list was actually rather slim, though nobody on it seemed a likely candidate. There was the possibility that he had someone watching her from time to time, but that didn't make much sense either.

Then again, he'd forced himself to stay in the City to protect people he cared about. That didn't mean he didn't have friends outside it.

Her tone is reproachful.]

So is freedom.

[It's a jab at both him and the import rebellion. There hadn't been a future for her here after everyone had gone their own ways. She'd spent a long time justifying her own departure to herself. She knew that waiting for everyone to regroup was vain; it might never happen, first of all. Second, if it did, there were no guarantees that anything would come of it.]

[Davesprite couldn't help but chuckle at the jab.]

Hey, relax, I don't blame you. I don't claim to be Mother Theresa either.

[Down goes the second screwdriver. He reaches for one of the vodka cranberries to start on that. An insight to a bad habit he may or may not be developing.]

Besides, I agree. That's pretty important.

[A hint of his own. The phone to the side lights up and he reaches for it subconsciously.]

[Her agitation fades as quickly as it had come on. Of course he isn't. He's never registered, as far as she knows; she hadn't either, but she had also left the worst of import discrimination behind her. Being in Europe had its perks, to say the least. Certain people were willing to overlook certain things so long as you had something they wanted--or something they didn't want anyone else to have.

The rapidity with which he's drinking isn't lost on her, but she doesn't mention it. Again: it isn't her business. It's hard to make herself believe that. But better a flimsy shield than none at all.

This conversation is turning into nothing more than thinly veiled offers and reproaches. She takes her time on the screwdriver, blue eyes lingering on the phone for a moment too long before her gaze slides back to his face and those stupid glasses. At least nowadays they might have some practical use, what with hiding his distinctive red irises and all. The aviators still look ridiculous, though. She wishes he'd take them off so she could see his eyes and--

She stops the thought before it fully forms. None of that, now.]

The nice thing about it is that there's always room for one more.

[She isn't even trying anymore.]

[Davesprite finishes his drink and goes about finishing his text to whomever had contacted him -- a little slower this time, though whether that was due to the alcohol or his slow response time remained to be seen.

After he's done, he places it back on the table and nudges his empty glass away again, looking upward at Nill with the same neutral expression. It breaks for a second to offer a small chuckle, followed by a shake of his head.]

Not always.

[She waits, trying to be patient. Something feels strange about this. He never used to laugh so much, even if it's just half-chuckles right now. He never used to smile so much either. Or maybe he did, and she'd just never noticed. Either way, she takes a larger gulp of her drink, trying to make herself ignore it. She's just become too paranoid, that's all.

Her gaze lands on the screwdriver for a few seconds after he answers. Her fingers twitch on his arm.]

If they left, would you?

[The smile disappears at her question. Its a slow disappearance, and he distracts himself from the question by tracing the rim of the glass he had just finished.]

You know, I hadn't really thought about it.

[It disturbed him a little to think that his answer hadn't automatically been "yes". True, his interests always lied greatest with his friends and family, but here he was, fighting for a much greater purpose than all of them. It was kind of nice, on the one hand. Nice to have a purpose and not completely wallow in how much he hated being what he was. In fact, a lot of that self-loathing had gone away with age. Not all, but a good chunk of it.]

I guess if the time ever comes, I'll think about it.

[He picks up the glass again to suck a piece of ice into his mouth.]

[She hates herself a little, as she watches his expression shift. The question had been insensitive and inappropriate, to say the least. Nill knows that it hadn't been fair of her to even pose it. As absurd as she found his sense of responsibility, that didn't mean she should belittle it. He wasn't berating her life choices, after all, and he must have known that they weren't on the entirely bright side of moral.

Nill finishes off her drink in one more gulp and takes a long sip of the last vodka cranberry. Her head is starting to feel light. She sets the glass on the table between them, and her fingers curl into the material of his jacket.]

If you do decide, I'll be there to get you out.

[She doesn't mention how he might contact her, if the time comes, but she still knows that she'll be ready. But it seems as if tonight, at least, he's set on staying. When had she even made the decision to try and change his mind? She can't immediately place the moment, and so she stops trying.]

Open Post 002

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