[The City] IC Contact

[hypnagothic]

VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION | OVERFLOW

Comments

[hypnagothic]

[ there's a hint of a smirk at both her reply as well as at her thievery while he finishes chewing daintily. the look of amusement carries through even after his swallowing of the morsel. ]

I am not a man. And you are not offended by such questions.

[ it's a statement, a declaration of knowing and of being, said as innocuously as any of his other statements during their rendezvous, but his confidence in his words make them seem heavy and full of deeper meaning. ]

[matermali]

[ Yes, well— Despite all her jests, she is no lady. ]

Because I rather suspect you are asking a question you already know the answer to.

[hypnagothic]

I can speculate. I do not know for certain.

[matermali]

Hm.

[ No matter what he claims, he isa very silly man.

Tongue-in-cheek, she'll push against the counter to smoothly stand, brushing out her skirts absently before moving toward the refrigerator to fetch a pitcher of lemonade. ]

Maddening, isn't it? To have the answer right there and yet be denied certainty.

[ Not knowing where the glasses are, since she clearly hadn't bothered much with dishes, she'll begin opening the cabinets. ]

Or is that yet another thing that doesn't bother you?

[hypnagothic]

I am also patient.

[ he stays on his stool, but he turns his head to watch her rummage. ]

[matermali]

[ Her brow furrows with a shake of her head and an impressed sigh. ]

Commendable. I'm not sure that I could ever be called patient.

[ People who don't know here well would assume otherwise, as she gives off a very particular impression. She can force it, always on the edge of her toes ready to take and take. Once opportunity strikes... Vanessa can only wish to seize.

If she seems patient now, there's a reason for it. ]

Do you know anything about clementines? About what they can symbolize?

[ With a clink, two glasses are settled onto the back corner so she can fill them. While she wonders by now if he'll even drink, she would be remiss not set a glass down for him just before finding her seat again. ]

[hypnagothic]

Yes. Though I wish to hear what you will choose to emphasize.

[ at least he doesn't refuse the drink outright, making no move to belay the setting of the glass for him. ]

[matermali]

Why?

[ Of course he does, though, and that pleases her enough to smile into her glass.

She'll definitely be enjoying her sip of lemonade, because she can't recall having it like this before, and for a moment she pauses to let the taste of it linger on her tongue with a blink of appreciative surprise. There really is something about citrus. ]

Do you seek my favor?

[ The inquiry is a rhetorical tease, of course she doesn't expect him to answer, but maybe it will keep him silent long enough for her to find her footing again while she enjoys her lemonade. ]

[hypnagothic]

I believe that it what you might wish for.

[ he also takes a sip of his drink. to be polite. ]

[matermali]

[ How smug of him. Let him believe, then; she isn't denying it yet but she's hardly agreeing, either. ]

And you wish for nothing? Or have such wishes already been granted.

[hypnagothic]

I wish to hear your opinion on the clementine.

[matermali]

[ That isn't fair. That's a cheat.

Failing to suppress her smile on the matter, she'll set her glass down beside the coiled apple peel. ]

Why is it important for you to know? I thought you didn't care for the opinions of others.

[hypnagothic]

Only in their opinion of me, as it will do little to change me. And I am ... curious where you are directing our conversation.

[matermali]

[ With a squint and a smirk, Vanessa tips her head in a play show at indignation. He had been the one to turn the conversation toward this sort of favor, hadn't he?

She had been innocently talking about food in a perfectly appropriate manner, whatever is he suggesting? ]

Are you curious very often?

[ She is. She would know of everything if she could; the forgotten things, the things that nobody else will look at. Her curiosity has cursed her more than it's blessed her, but then she wouldn't trade it for anything. ]

[hypnagothic]

Not so often, no.

[matermali]

[ As much of a compliment as he can manage, she suspects, but it isn't an unusual response. Peculiar Miss Ives. Strange, vulgar girl. She has drawn many curiosities, and few of them kind. The friends who have been kind in their 'curiosities', they too could be considered cruel in their own ways, but she loved them all the more for knowing both kindness and cruelty. So long as they didn't hurt her.

Whether he is being kind or cruel, with what seems to be his manner of teasing, she can sense no malice in it. That's enough to at least allow some trust. Had he not earned more with all he's already done for her?

After a moment's pause, she'll turn to reach across the counter for an utterly nondescript paper bag on the corner. ]

They weren't something of particular note to me as a child, but my mother would tell me about the power of clementines. She said that they had a different taste when eaten with the wrong people. Worst of all when alone.

[ A foot hooks back behind the bottom rung of the stool while she pulls a clementine out of the bag. It's so delicate, small even in her tiny hand. Pulling it close, she'll pause to close her eyes and take in the scent of it. Sharp. Almost invigorating. Somehow, it smells as though it was picked just that morning. ]

It's an affectionate sort of act, to peel the clementine for another—its own show of intimacy without needing words. [ Pulling it into her lap, she gazes down while running her thumb across the skin. ] You take that bitter shell away for them, you see. You make certain that they know only the sweetness within.

[hypnagothic]

... You speak of companionship.

[matermali]

[ Silence is answer enough, though it doesn't linger for long before she lifts the bright orange fruit to roll gently onto the top of the counter. It wobbles into a niche between a loaf of bread and a few plums.

Resting her arms across the counter's edge, she'll offer a little shrug and an almost sheepish smile. ]

I have never actually had them before now.

[ She simply hadn't seen them, and she hadn't gone looking; life in London rarely allowed the pleasure to even remember those sorts of stories. ]

[hypnagothic]

[ his gaze follows the fruit as it rolls, his head turning slightly away from her to linger on it stopped position. ]

Companions? Or clementines?

[matermali]

[ Now, she isn't quite as pitiful as that, and she is very thankful for the few companions that she has had. ]

Clementines.

[ She's back to watching the window. ]

I found them here the other day, and I thought I would like to try them while watching the sunset.

[hypnagothic]

[ he looks back to her. ]

Why during the sunset?

[matermali]

[ A little smile, but it's for herself and the slow blend of colors forming in the distance. ]

They ought to be enjoyed while looking at something beautiful.

[hypnagothic]

A wise choice, lady.

[matermali]

[ Hilarious, by indication of her glance. ]

Few would call me wise. Perhaps reckless.

[hypnagothic]

Perhaps you have those rare moments then.