Who: Percival (tzaraisen) & Others What: Catchall for the rest of December + Eventual Gala stuff When: December Where: Wherever Warning(s): None yet! Will warn in threads if necessary.
Enough. [ The person she'd do anything for, and the person she'd do anything to make sure he never speaks again. They probably balance each other out, if nothing else.
But her expression dims with his, as his story is told. So that's still a possibility, even if they're here now. She thins her lips in an attempt to find the right words to say — an attempt that comes with varying results, since all she can manage is a typed-out: ]
I'm sorry. [ It can't be easy. ] I'm glad you're not alone, at least.
You sound torn about your circumstances. I should hope you have at least one person you can confide in.
[ This isn't the best conversation to have at such a joyous affair, maybe, but he can't imagine the new arrivals are having an easy time just accepting that this is their new home.
He shakes his head. ]
There's nothing to be sorry to. I'm accustomed to being alone. Companions are a burden more often than not. [ That isn't really how he feels. It was how he once felt, how he was once determined to be a man that never had to depend on anyone, but now, his house feels a little empty. ]
[ Torn is definitely one way to put it ( though hearing it from a third party, admittedly, doesn't feel very good ). Her gaze shifts from Percival to — the rest of the scenery, briefly, because while his well wishes may be well received, she has her right to not acknowledge it. Not yet, anyway — maybe some other time, when there isn't a party happening a floor away from them.
She's fine, anyhow. ]
You were the one who called them your closest friends. [ Not her. But despite the sharpness in her words, her expression is anything but ( easily shifting the conversation away from her and into better territory, in theory ). ]
[ He's been caught. Also, in that moment, Percival isn't perceptive enough to catch that she might be avoiding a subject. ]
I stand by what I said. Friends are often a burden.
[ The song changes to something a little more upbeat. It makes him want to think about his lost friends even less. Instead, he turns back to her and offers Red his hand. ]
Let's try to enjoy ourselves a bit. May I have a dance?
[ Is the last thing she shows him, before the phone returns to her purse. She can't dance with a phone in her hand, after all — and only then does she raise her head, taking his hand with a small curtsy of her own, eyebrows raised in amusement.
It's a truce, of sorts. Dropping uncomfortable topics to just enjoy the festivities. She can't say she minds it in the slightest. ]
[ Percival remembers at the last minute that unfortunately, sharing said dance means that Red won't be able to communicate until it ends. He'll just have to keep his side of the conversation minimal, then. Which is just fine with him.
The song is light and sweet, and easy for him to fall into step. The hand that isn't guiding their next direction rests lightly on her waist. ]
I trust you're coordinated enough to not step on my feet at every turn. [ He doesn't actually mind if she isn't, and he's trying to get a feel for how skilled she might be. ]
[ don't worry percy, at least 5 people have danced with her at this point and none of them were awkward. this is fine ( probably ).
Anyway — her actions are certain when her other hand rests on his shoulder, easily stepping into his lead. At his question — there's a slow growing smile, though before it could be labelled as fond she rolls her eyes. Watch your words, Percival, or she'll do it on purpose.
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But her expression dims with his, as his story is told. So that's still a possibility, even if they're here now. She thins her lips in an attempt to find the right words to say — an attempt that comes with varying results, since all she can manage is a typed-out: ]
I'm sorry. [ It can't be easy. ] I'm glad you're not alone, at least.
no subject
[ This isn't the best conversation to have at such a joyous affair, maybe, but he can't imagine the new arrivals are having an easy time just accepting that this is their new home.
He shakes his head. ]
There's nothing to be sorry to. I'm accustomed to being alone. Companions are a burden more often than not. [ That isn't really how he feels. It was how he once felt, how he was once determined to be a man that never had to depend on anyone, but now, his house feels a little empty. ]
no subject
She's fine, anyhow. ]
You were the one who called them your closest friends. [ Not her. But despite the sharpness in her words, her expression is anything but ( easily shifting the conversation away from her and into better territory, in theory ). ]
no subject
I stand by what I said. Friends are often a burden.
[ The song changes to something a little more upbeat. It makes him want to think about his lost friends even less. Instead, he turns back to her and offers Red his hand. ]
Let's try to enjoy ourselves a bit. May I have a dance?
no subject
[ Is the last thing she shows him, before the phone returns to her purse. She can't dance with a phone in her hand, after all — and only then does she raise her head, taking his hand with a small curtsy of her own, eyebrows raised in amusement.
It's a truce, of sorts. Dropping uncomfortable topics to just enjoy the festivities. She can't say she minds it in the slightest. ]
no subject
The song is light and sweet, and easy for him to fall into step. The hand that isn't guiding their next direction rests lightly on her waist. ]
I trust you're coordinated enough to not step on my feet at every turn. [ He doesn't actually mind if she isn't, and he's trying to get a feel for how skilled she might be. ]
no subject
Anyway — her actions are certain when her other hand rests on his shoulder, easily stepping into his lead. At his question — there's a slow growing smile, though before it could be labelled as fond she rolls her eyes. Watch your words, Percival, or she'll do it on purpose.
At least she nods, though. That's something. ]