featheradrift | Inbox (The City)

Yuu! Hi!

[She waves eagerly in response, trotting over to meet up with him properly.]

How are you?

[ There's the name again. Altria's determined to use it now, it seems. It gives him a prickly sensation on his skin. It's a little discomforting, but... not in a bad way. It might just take a little while to get used to it, is all. ]

No worse for wear than usual. You seem rather cheerful yourself.

[ No indication yet as to what she called him for... ]

Yeah!

[Chipper as can be, because she's avoiding the gallery and life's great.]

I tried an orange for the first time recently. It was sooo tasty! Have you ever had one?

[She's getting to it. She's just a little easily distracted.]

[ He's also avoiding the gallery and life's— well. It's life. ]

Does your world not have oranges?

[ Said with amusement, because it really is amusing how excited she is all the time about new things. ]

Hmmm... they're a tropical fruit, right?

[It is possible the fancypants in Camelot had them, but she thinks, most likely--]

Probably not! I've never seen them before now.

[None of those implications matter, don't worry about it. More importantly!]

[Ahem! She straightens, smiling still but expression a little more serious.]

... We're not at the gala now, so... I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about what happened with Kaveh.

[ He wonders what her world is like—but ah, so this was what it was. He knew she was going to ask him at some point, but he had thought perhaps the ordeal at the exhibit would cause it to slip from her mind. Evidently, it has not.

Does he want to talk about it? He's not used to, well, talking about things that trouble him. It's just never been an option. But Altria knows the story behind Tatarasuna. She knows about the purification device, and Niwa's heart. She would understand why he avoided Kaveh.

He sighs—takes a deep, calming breath. The cold of the air is fresh, stinging. He's over it, mostly. The past is the past and in here, nothing is lasting. Kaveh and Alhaitham are both fine, and neither hold a grudge against him.

But still... ]

Alright.

[ But they shouldn't do this standing at the entrance of the park. He beckons her to come with him as he starts on a leisurely stroll to—not anywhere particularly, but he might need the distraction that comes with walking. ]

[... Oh! He agreed more easily than she expected, which she thinks is a good thing. If anything, it probably means he's starting to heal and recover from whatever happened, whereas at the gala, it must have still been raw.

She feels a little bad for pressing on a pain point then, but... it's okay. They're here now, and she falls into step with him easily, patiently quiet.]

[ They walk in silence for a while. The park is calming, and Altria's presence is comforting. It's... nice. Really nice. Peaceful, even.

Another long, deep breath, and then he looks ahead as he begins speaking. ]

...Not all the fairy tales were peaceful or painless. I was stuck with Kaveh twice.

[So it was the fairy tales... Altria can't help but still find the name ironic. That he'd think--that everyone thought--that tales of fairies were by default peaceful or painless. She'd heard that from so many people.

In her experience, painful tales sound exactly right.

Still, that doesn't mean she wanted him to go through that--or Kaveh, either.]

... What happened?

One was a tale of a princess and her dragon lover. The princess was to be sacrificed to a corrupt World Tree, and the dragon decided to give his heart to her to protect her from being consumed by the Tree.

The second... [ he pauses for a moment here. ] ...was about a puppet who needed the heart and blood of his creators to become a real human.

[ It won't be hard to guess what part of each of these fairy tales the Wanderer had a problem with. ]

[... Of course. Why did it have to be a heart specifically? Why did it have to be like that, specifically?

... Because their captors know them, right? They know things about them they should not know.

How horrible. How awful, to shove something specifically into his face that he already has suffered through before.]

... You were the puppet, weren't you? Which means the heart would have been from...

[... Kaveh?]

[ He tilts his head down. They both know who it was he had to receive the heart from. Both times. ]

...He was willing to do it. Too willing. Where was his sense of self-preservation??

[ There's heat in those words. The fairy tales had bothered him a lot, but what had really shook him was Kaveh's attitude. His willingness to give, his desire to reach out to the Wanderer because—he seemed so worried about the drifter. Too worried. And not worried enough about himself. ]

I don't need his pity.

[ Muttered bitterly. Because that was really the crux of the matter. Not the fairy tales. Not the heart. Just... Kaveh, and his wish to give to the Wanderer. ]

[His emotions are easy to read this time. His feelings, the sentiment behind those words. The fears of someone giving so freely that they have nothing left. The frustration at being the source of worry, so much so that someone would sacrifice like that. The aggravation at the lack of preservation.

And of course, she thinks. For someone who has lost everyone, why wouldn't he be upset to know someone with no self-preservation? Kaveh may as well have been telling Wanderer that he didn't care if he lived or died.

She wishes she could've seen what Kaveh said behind the words he said, but her eyes only work on what she can see before her. It's strange, too--she's never wished to be able to see more before, only less. But in this case, she can't help but wonder... in this moment, what was Kaveh thinking?

Because really, it isn't that Kaveh did what had to be done to continue. It's that he did so far too willingly, isn't it?]

... Do you think he was pitying you in that moment? [It's an honest question. She doesn't know what Kaveh said, what he did, how he acted. Was it with pity?]

[ Was it out of pity? Kaveh knows what he is. Knows that not only is he a puppet, he's one made in the image of a god. The man is more than smart enough to deduce who it is he was modeled in the image of.

But he's not a close friend or anything. What reason does he have to care for the Wanderer? There's no reason for him to show genuine concern. ]

What else could it be? I'm hardly a friend. Just someone he competed against in a competition, once. He has no reason to care for me.

["What else could it be?" To an extent, she gets it. The world isn't kind like that. People almost always have ulterior motives, and altruism is not near as common as the simple appearance of altruism. The tangles of lies and self-serving feelings that crisscross her vision have always made that apparent enough.

But... But...

Ritsuka hadn't been like that. And in all the times she's spoken to Kaveh, he's been honest, too. So she can't really speak to what else it could be, just that:]

... I don't really know, to be honest. But... he just didn't seem like the kind of person who would pity someone else. Especially not someone like you.

[To her, Wanderer has it pretty well together, even if his past has been painful. She admires that, and to a small extent, envies it. So he just doesn't seem like a pitiable sort of person to her.]

[ She's not wrong. He doesn't think Kaveh is the type to pity either. If anything, he suspects there is something inherent to Kaveh that makes him act the way he does.

But isn't that all the more terrifying? That a man can so willingly give so much without any other motive than that he wants to help? It's not normal human behaviour. He's seen what humans are like—selfish, greedy, helpful only when they stand to gain. He's also seen kindness, warmth and love from them too. They're hopelessly complex and hard to understand.

He doesn't understand Kaveh at all. ]

...I don't want him meddling in my business.

[ Because he's overwhelming. He wants so much—for the drifter, even when the Wanderer doesn't want for himself. It's too much. He—wants to run away from it. ]

[... Ah. She sees now, a glimmer of clarity in the things he does not say, behind the things that he does. He's... afraid. Afraid of getting attached to someone he might lose, someone who might throw his life away as easily as Kaveh. Afraid of the sort of deep emotion and intention and warmth that Kaveh has.

For a moment, she feels guilty.

But she pushes that aside, and thinks--again, if there are any sorts of lies that are not terribly bitter, it's ones like these.

And once again, she's amazed at just how much she understands what he means. It'd be so much easier to run away, wouldn't it? But there's only so far for people like them to run.]

I get the feeling he's the kind of person who's going to meddle anyway...

[Hmm... she doesn't feel like he wants her to meddle in his business, but she has to offer anyway.]

I could ask him to stop...?

[ Again, she's not wrong. And he already has. It was unfortunate that he couldn't fully avoid Kaveh at the gala, but in that kind of enclosed space, it may as well have been inevitable.

He's like a hurricane, drawing everything around him closer and closer through the force of his will. He's like the sun, bright, shining and at times searing. He dreams for the stars, and brings everyone around him up into the skies, that they may chase their dreams evermore.

He has no dreams. He has no desire—aside from atoning for his sins. He doesn't belong in the light that shines from the architect.

Altria is too kind, really. ]

I can handle it myself.

[ Said kindly, because he appreciates Altria's concern. But this is something that he should deal with on his own. And having Altria ask is admitting he can't force Kaveh to stop on his own. It's—a sign of weakness. He doesn't need to cower behind Altria. ]

Okay.

[She didn't think he really wanted her to meddle, but nonetheless, she felt as though the offer itself was important. After all, she'd always wished people would've reached out to help her when she was overwhelmed and struggling.

Of course, she probably would've accepted the help, but she's not as strong as he is--so this isn't a surprise.

And, with a smile that comes easier than she was anticipating:]

I think you can too. [She thinks he can handle it, even if Kaveh's overwhelming. She thinks... Kaveh's kindness and bright personality could be good for someone like Wanderer--but likewise, Wanderer's caution and wariness could be good for Kaveh, too, especially in light of what she's learned about him through this.

Isn't that just a win-win, then?]

Even if maybe it takes a little bit of time, I think it'll work out for the better for both of you.

[ There's an inevitable outcome that they're heading towards—barring either of them vanishing, the two of them will end up reconciling and—at least become proper acquaintances. Even he knows this much—knows that his avoidance and struggles with Kaveh's force of personality are futile.

But he needs time. Time to adjust to the idea, perhaps. Time to prepare himself to deal with Kaveh, no matter the outcome. There was a hand that reached out to him, back in the fairy tales. At the time, it felt like it carried the weight of the world and more.

He huffs a little grumpy noise, but it's a benign gesture. ]

He ought to learn some delicacy first.

[That startles a laugh out of her. "Delicacy"? He's never had a problem with her, and she's not delicate at all.

Rather than bring that up, though, she just grins at him.]

I bet he'd make a really funny face if you told him that. Sort of liiike... a cross between "uuuu" and "bwaaah?"!

[ Oh, but she does have delicacy—in the things that matter, that is. Everything else? Questionable.

He snorts and smirks, letting the somber mood dispel itself. ]

He makes plenty of amusing faces already—just watch him talk to Alhaitham.

Oh!

[NOW THAT HE MENTIONS IT--]

The guy he cares a lot a lot about!

I haven't seen them together yet.

[ The Wanderer laughs at her description. Cares a lot a lot. That's a cute way of saying it. Very childish, just like her. ]

I'm sure you'll get a chance soon. I doubt they stay away from each other for long.

[ It's seriously disgusting the way they make eyes at each other at every given opportunity. Even at the gala. He barely spoke to the two on account of avoiding them both, but he had to observe them to avoid them, and, well...

If he were human, he would have long ago thrown up the contents of his stomach from how disgustingly lovey-dovey they were. ]

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