Well, some of them definitely wouldn't want to go without me, so of course.
( though ruka of anyone has had the best insight to how he feels about the moon and how he's done up here, so the addendum is likely as pointless as it is transparent )
her greeting smile is weak, pulling more to one side than the other, and doesn't travel far into her cheeks. she doesn't wave, or call out his name as she approaches; ruka simply takes the saved seat, and the saved space, in as quiet arrival as possible.
she may not be sneaking, but that's only a matter of posture. the last thing she wants is to draw attention to herself right now...
her reasons may not be so clear, but the tension remains visible in her face. dark circles remain under her eye—her signature eye patch covers too much of that side to tell if the marker of sleeplessness resides on that cheek as well—and her face looks thin.
even pulling out the chair, her shoulders are as straight as a curtain rod, from which the rest of her hangs suspended like wooden blinds. ]
I'm a little surprised [ her voice is quiet, and dull. ] I almost thought the room would be flooded.
As for that, ( brightly ) I'm a fast cleaner! The roombas helped a lot.
( what's left of them, anyway, between explosions (not pointing any fingers rosette christopher), mutiny, zombies, abuse by cats, and space-related mishaps. he can't say he's terribly sorry about their dwindling numbers; the mission with rose had been an amusing (illuminating) one, and after both he and gil managed to trip over them he's had a lot less love for them.
her exhaustion, her tension, how much even smaller than usual her presence is — it all, of course, goes noticed, and it also all, of course, goes without comment. if there's a faint narrowing of eyes, a brief tug downward to one corner of his lips, it's all transitory and quickly sink beneath his smile. )
I'll miss them when we leave.
( he has a seat as he says that, pulling the chair closer to the table as he does. one of the last times — or maybe it was the last time — she saw him was a dark night (aren't they all, here) or perhaps morning given the ridiculous time it had been. it's only in retrospect that he can admit he probably hadn't looked any better than she does now; it'd been a difficult transition to the moon, complicated by a difficult transition back to ordinary living after everything the united earth did. things aren't exactly easier by now, but certainly more bearable for a number or reasons. )
Those little vacuum-robots? [ not exactly the assistance she would expect, even in jest, but it wasn't like she knew much about his day-to-day existence, anyway. her predictions could only bear so much weight without something to support them.
when she reaches for the closer of the two mugs, a keen eye might notice something missing—the heavy golden bracelet, a constant an accessory to her appearance (though less ostentatious as her eye patch), is absent from her narrow wrist.
but for as much comment as her appearance invites, she doesn't volunteer answers—not even when she catches when and where his eyes focus, the way thought pulls at his face in silence. ]
You won't take them with you, to Earth?
[ or is it returning to his own world, and his own time, where he assumes he'll be able to miss anything? ]
( he nods enthusiastically at the first question, helping himself to his cup of tea while he does. the absence of the bracelet doesn't go unnoticed, though the immediate thought is more along the lines of something is different — and isn't there usually something there, ones to puzzle over as they continue to speak. )
Ah, I doubt it. I don't think they'd mix well with snow, and Gil hasn't liked them very much.
... I suppose you're right. [ The answer she finally settles on, though not without second and third thoughts. Jabs like how sad, or how easy it must be to abandon the things that are not useful to you, seem too cruel to say. Maybe not in another circumstance, at least for her to say, but there's no reward to spitting venom when it's not her in danger.
Besides, he might read too much into it & mdash;the way she is now. ]
( it's a funny thing about being here, that people can know one of them and not the other. it was more of a difficult thing before gil's arrival, but by now it's a little bit of a curiosity of their position here. )
That's right! He's my best friend. ( which may seem a funny thing too, one to say of someone ten years his senior — but that'd only be if ruka knew him. ) He fusses a lot, and he thinks they're too dangerous to keep around.
That's too bad, then. [ Another quiet pause, sipping from her mug — it's not bad tea, and she's certainly had better, but it's nice, having it like this.
And at least there are no hearts in these cups. ]
He's someone you knew before you arrived here, right?
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An utter travesty. There's only so much good tea left, after all.
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Exactly! And one of my friends got it on a mission so it's quite good.
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BUT THEN AGAIN...]
I'm surprised they left you to face the task alone, in that case.
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( see he can't go back now and prove why it's a bad idea to let him help with things!!!! )
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You're going as well, of course?
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( though ruka of anyone has had the best insight to how he feels about the moon and how he's done up here, so the addendum is likely as pointless as it is transparent )
What about you?
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[ which is exactly why she intends to stay as long as possible... ]
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( which is a totally normal comment to make and not at all reflective of what he thinks her tastes would be. )
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[ totes normal ]
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Where am I meeting you?
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The cafeteria, if that's fine.
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[ about five minutes later... ]
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her greeting smile is weak, pulling more to one side than the other, and doesn't travel far into her cheeks. she doesn't wave, or call out his name as she approaches; ruka simply takes the saved seat, and the saved space, in as quiet arrival as possible.
she may not be sneaking, but that's only a matter of posture. the last thing she wants is to draw attention to herself right now...
her reasons may not be so clear, but the tension remains visible in her face. dark circles remain under her eye—her signature eye patch covers too much of that side to tell if the marker of sleeplessness resides on that cheek as well—and her face looks thin.
even pulling out the chair, her shoulders are as straight as a curtain rod, from which the rest of her hangs suspended like wooden blinds. ]
I'm a little surprised [ her voice is quiet, and dull. ] I almost thought the room would be flooded.
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( what's left of them, anyway, between explosions (not pointing any fingers rosette christopher), mutiny, zombies, abuse by cats, and space-related mishaps. he can't say he's terribly sorry about their dwindling numbers; the mission with rose had been an amusing (illuminating) one, and after both he and gil managed to trip over them he's had a lot less love for them.
her exhaustion, her tension, how much even smaller than usual her presence is — it all, of course, goes noticed, and it also all, of course, goes without comment. if there's a faint narrowing of eyes, a brief tug downward to one corner of his lips, it's all transitory and quickly sink beneath his smile. )
I'll miss them when we leave.
( he has a seat as he says that, pulling the chair closer to the table as he does. one of the last times — or maybe it was the last time — she saw him was a dark night (aren't they all, here) or perhaps morning given the ridiculous time it had been. it's only in retrospect that he can admit he probably hadn't looked any better than she does now; it'd been a difficult transition to the moon, complicated by a difficult transition back to ordinary living after everything the united earth did. things aren't exactly easier by now, but certainly more bearable for a number or reasons. )
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when she reaches for the closer of the two mugs, a keen eye might notice something missing—the heavy golden bracelet, a constant an accessory to her appearance (though less ostentatious as her eye patch), is absent from her narrow wrist.
but for as much comment as her appearance invites, she doesn't volunteer answers—not even when she catches when and where his eyes focus, the way thought pulls at his face in silence. ]
You won't take them with you, to Earth?
[ or is it returning to his own world, and his own time, where he assumes he'll be able to miss anything? ]
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Ah, I doubt it. I don't think they'd mix well with snow, and Gil hasn't liked them very much.
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Besides, he might read too much into it & mdash;the way she is now. ]
Friend of yours?
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( it's a funny thing about being here, that people can know one of them and not the other. it was more of a difficult thing before gil's arrival, but by now it's a little bit of a curiosity of their position here. )
That's right! He's my best friend. ( which may seem a funny thing too, one to say of someone ten years his senior — but that'd only be if ruka knew him. ) He fusses a lot, and he thinks they're too dangerous to keep around.
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( also the cats like riding around on them which terrifies gilbert )
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That's too bad, then. [ Another quiet pause, sipping from her mug — it's not bad tea, and she's certainly had better, but it's nice, having it like this.
And at least there are no hearts in these cups. ]
He's someone you knew before you arrived here, right?
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the first time I wrote this I got halfway through with "fabulous" instead of "familiar"
LMFAO
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