capeandcowl2020 | Open Post 002

[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.]

[He feels her fingers curl and it draws a sigh from him. He doesn't move his arm, but his own fingers relax a little.]

If I can't get out on my own, then I don't need to leave.

[It was an easy enough philosophy. If he couldn't get out reasonably, then neither could anyone else. That meant he still had a job to do. Even now with all the measures in place, imports could leave if they talked to the right people (namely, him). Part of him wonders if he still comes off as cold and dettached. He had worked on that a litle, if only so Rose didn't have to suffer in silence dealing with it whenever they saw each other.

Its wasn't perfect, but he was trying.]

[She almost takes her hand away at that sigh. She can't tell which one of them is more agitating to her right now: him for refusing to take her help still, or herself for being upset that he wouldn't. She should have expected it. People can only change so much, even her--somewhere deep down, she had always wanted to be on her own (or with only Heine). She hadn't wanted to feel the need to care for the people around her. Caring was hard, and more often than not, it ended up hurting.

But even years later, she can't completely stop. It's part of why she'd come back, right? And if he was hell bent on keeping himself chained to this place, there's nothing she can really do about it.]

I just hope you don't die here, Dave.

[It's as much sentiment as she can muster at the moment, and with it she draws her fingers away from him. She lets her hand lay on the table in case he poses anything else that requires a response, but she'd prefer to finish off the last of her drink without thinking of anything but how her body buzzes with the alcohol.]

[He almost grabs her hand before it leaves his arm. Almost. He hated letting people down, now more than ever. Davesprite sits up a little straighter, trying to figure out how to recover the conversation from the awkward direction it had gone in.]

I'm not looking to make this place my graveyard.

[He didn't know how much it helped or even if he sounded sincere, but he meant it.][He folds his arms uncomfortably and leans against the table.]

[It was less that he was letting her down and more that she'd made the mistake of getting her hopes up. The road isn't always exactly friendly for a woman traveling alone, especially a woman that couldn't scream. But she'd made that bed for herself, and over the years she'd gained too much self-pride to get out of it. Besides, her life could be considered comfortable. She has little to complain of, outside the danger and occasional lonely days.

Others have it worse. She'd had it worse back in her own world. And that was what always brought her back to square one.

Nill watches him shift from the corner of her eye, and feels bad. She already wants to take back the severance of her half of the conversation. The cranberry sours in her mouth and she has to put the glass down once more, still unfinished. Catching up wasn't going the way she had wanted.

Without thinking much about it, she reaches for the pen once more and scratches out:]

Switzerland is nice.

[A hint. A suggestion. Maybe a promise. He isn't an old man yet, after all.]

[He peers at the paper curiously and offers her a small nod, arms still folded. He couldn't and wouldn't promise her anything. It wasn't fair to either of them. He could almost admit that Nill's company was something he had missed. It was always easier to share company with someone who didn't expect a lot of conversation and who didn't always feel the need to pry into everything.]

I'll keep that in mind.

[He picked up the extra pen and playfully reached over to draw a quick line on her hand -- a little jab in her direction.]

[His answer is more or less what she expected. Even when they'd been kids, he'd been reluctant to bind himself to anything. And she tries to be understanding, now--he doesn't feel like he can leave right now. But it isn't as if she's tied down. Now that she knows he's still here, she can look out for him the next time she visits.

Which reminds her that she's leaving in just a couple days. It sucks, but the flight has already been booked and she already has plans to meet with a contact in Berlin. All of those things could be set aside, but it wouldn't be good for her reputation.

She's distracted by his attack with the pen, and it breaks the melancholy that had been settling over her. She actually smiles, and when she moves to brush his hand away, he might hear the ghost of a laugh in his mind. She tries to snatch away the pen to retaliate, balling up a scrap of paper to flick at him as she does.]

[If they hadn't been in public, he might've fallen back dramatically, but Davesprite is not looking to attract unnecessary attention at the present. So, instead, he deflects the piece of paper and catches it in mid-air.

Afterwards, he decides to play baseball with it and the pen, batting it into one of the empty glasses. He's quickly reminded that they're out of alcohol, but thankfully has enough judgement not to go up and get more. After all, that money he had stolen earlier wasn't just for him.

Actually, none of it was supposed to be for him. So much for being utterly selfless. Turns out even Davesprite Strider has plenty of flaws to go around.]

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niveous - 2013-03-07 05:32 (UTC) - Expand