[Yeah that's just going to get a very blank stare for a full moment because Hikage never really talked to her about his relationship with Subete so as far as she's aware this came entirely from left field. And she doesn't even know what left field in the saying means, either.
[ ...Ah. Hahaha. Well, that's what he gets for opening his stupid mouth, isn't it? He thinks he would have preferred to go through this whole week without ever having confirmation of that, even if it would have made him crazy.
He kind of misses when Hikage was more of a liar. ]
[ He sets his cup down, and hides his suddenly shaky hands under the table, nails digging into his palms as he presses down against his knees... finding that he can't very well grip the fabric with these stupid pants.
He has a million questions about this, though most of them amount to Why? if he gets right down to it. (Why him, why not me, why did you bring him here, is hurting me really still that entertaining?) Which he won't, because he doesn't want to hear the answers, at least not right now.
He looks down into his cup, blinking back tears and hating himself for it and for many other things.
Running away ruined everything for him last time, but he's tempted to do it again. Just leave his own house and go sit in a park somewhere for a week until he's sure they're gone. That's stupid, of course, but so is he. ]
Well. [ His voice is almost as soft as Marona's for once, because he knows it will crack if he's any louder. ] I asked about the flight, not that.
[ Oh, he—despite everything that's happening around him, it's the touch that manages to jostle him. There's a blink, blink of his own and a small sigh that he partially covers up by taking another sip of his tea. He steals a quick glance at Subete in the process, that falls somewhere along the lines of indignant fluster that's a measure too soft. Emotion starts to trickle into his voice when he speaks again, first to Marona. ]
You're not the only one. [ Delicately and directed at no one in particular, not even himself. He's settled in some ways and not in others but he had made his choice several weeks ago so things are as they are. He doesn't need to understand all of them, just the essential parts. ]
It seemed important to say. [ Again he leaves it at that, though it's less of a mic drop this time and more like a very heavy feather. ]
[It really figures that for all the mostly metaphorical mess he's just splashed across the table Hikage is very nearly the most composed one here, though Subete is coming off that bit of complete blindsiding and there's a slight quirk to his mouth after catching that indignant look from the side -- he's a little pink around the ears but surely, surely that's just the condensation from the tea that he finally takes a sip of, closing his eyes to listen.
Like the tea warming his nose he drinks in the voices around him, the different qualities of softness: nonplussed from Marona like a broken drum, it's so funny that neither he nor Hikage have ever been real eager to talk about whatever they were doing back under the influence of either murder or memories or mayhem all poisoned through with miasma tint, and maybe the weight of that is part of what muffled everything; crackling from Saphir, like a page about to rip or the insidious edge of water damage, and if he ignores the familiarity of it with the ease of practice there's something reassuring about it as well because he's not a good enough person to have mercy here; gossamer from Hikage, no longer opaque but almost invisible and too much in motion like soap bubbles in wind, somehow strangely the easiest to read -- maybe it's all the colors in and out of sunlight that have slowly seeped through over days and years, maybe it's something else.
None of the cadences or the tones match up at all, but he adds his own anyway: lets it float like a freshly plucked leaf, slightly crisp and quiet.]
That mansion hid a lot of things. It had to be good at something, after all.
[This one is aimed at everyone, even if there isn't so much an edge to it; there are things all of them lack context for, even as small as their world became back then, and there are also things he still holds grudges against the mansion for, but -- the fact that this particular thing isn't one of those lets him use it a little more lightly.
He could, of course, build upon it to lead the conversation forward -- the way he was raised to do, and the way he's been blithely doing since before he walked in the door, but instead he just settles back and lets the words and the tea warm him through, sipping easily in the ensuing silence.]
[ Saphir's fists clench tighter, nails digging deeper into his skin and making him wince. He should have kept staring into his cup, but he makes the mistake of looking up, seeing those looks they exchange and that shitty half smile on Subete's face.
Why is this happening? If Hikage had brought some random girl over, he could have managed with a little effort to be the supportive friend he wants to be, but this-- forcing him into a situation where he has to invite this cold person who tried to frame him for murder into his house and serve him tea, and then learning that the friend he'd tried so hard not to let down cares more about that person than about him -- this feels like they're deliberately grinding salt into a wound that's still fresh. They know he'd lost all those memories during the time they'd been in stasis, right? That he hasn't actually had twenty years to process any of this?
There isn't going to be any pleasant silence to enjoy, because after having to listen to Subete's smug, uncaring voice again, Saphir stands up and slams a trembling hand down on the table -- weakly, but the silverware his hand unintentionally lands on still makes enough of a clatter to elicit a squawk from the bird in the next room. ]
Well, I don't want to hear it, so will you shut up about it and just answer my stupid question about the layover?
[ Raising his voice makes it break just like he'd expected; he sounds like a petulant child and he knows it and hates it. Nobody even cares about their flight, least of all him, but he can't deal with being brushed off and ignored right now, so this is what he's grabbing onto. ]
[ Expecting Hikage to think about anyone else is a mistake. He can of course, and he has even by measure of him coming to Minnesota (discounting how badly he's fumbled this reunion), but it's all very much a work in progress; a perilous lattice built of fragile crystal that's grown out erratically, brittle at points. This isn't a proper excuse all things considered either, but he's as much finding himself as he is finding out how he can connect with others.
The silverware clangs, the cockatoo squawks, and Hikage flinches and then goes very still. Memories are a strange thing, he has so many, many more than he has pieces of himself. It's only been a little while since he's reclaimed his own, which may be why they burn bright and hot, and why he's only glanced at them from the side in passing. When he has the choice in the matter at least.
A long time ago, he sat at a table similar to this one, with a setting similar to this one, and listened to his step mother descend into rant after rant about this or that. The subject hardly mattered and it varied daily besides, but the real target was always obvious. He's honestly not sure which was better (worse), thrown porcelain or insects in his food. It doesn't matter that this situation isn't the same on most fronts, and it doesn't matter that the memory is over a century old (time really is cruel in its machinations). The echoes of it are there, briefly like a spark.
It takes a second for Hikage to catch himself, but he does, his right eye lighting up in tandem like a switch. The only warmth in his form emanates from that singular flare of red, all traces of it gone from the way he holds himself and moves as he sets the tea cup down. He won't rise, but he does meet Saphir's eyes; they're as piercing as they are dark, a story told not in the shades of miasma but his own personal shadows. ]
...the truth is like that, isn't it? It's nice to know that lying is better, like I expected, all along. [ He very nearly laughs but not quite, and his words have that honeyed quality to them that both Subete and Saphir should recognize. There's no smile to match, though. ]
But yes, of course—our layover in Chicago was fine, we even had time to share a chocolate croissant.
[... His eyes blinked open again when Saphir in turn splashed his temper over the table, which isn't surprising so much as it is a faintly unwelcome echo, but Subete takes it in stride (there's the rip, the cracks in this farce of a teatime slowly growing, and truly this table didn't deserve any of this and neither did Marona, for one). Or he simply lets the bird speak for them all until he spots Hikage's unnatural movements out of the corner of his eye and softly tips his head to the side, observing with his sight for once.
There are little mismatched bits and pieces of these interactions that he's fitting together -- the last time he'd seen this web of relationships had been through the spider's silk of miasma, a double layer even, so having it so loudly dragged into the daylight sure is something. He's not sure what he expected -- he's learned to budget for worst-case scenarios but even to him this is a little beyond a night or two of planning. People and words, you know.
What stands out to him with a razor sort of clarity even in the midst of the noise is the flaring red of Hikage's eye, and he knows better than to place himself within the range of its burn just now (even if he had the motivation to do so) but the intermingling of scarlet and honey takes him back just a little: maybe a couple of weeks, months, years to sake-tinged evenings or weighted stares exchanged across a much wider distance. Inappropriate, perhaps, but no facet of their relationship is particularly appropriate and in some ways he's accepted that along with who he is these days. And who they are.
Softly he hums into his drink, a thinking pause of his own -- he could feed the flames but all the same:]
Yes. I thought we were in danger of missing our connecting flight at that point, really, but I'm sure there will be plenty more to see.
[He keeps his turn of phrase careful this time, skirting the angry edge of that truth wielded like a blade even if he would have liked to polish it until it shone and look into everything reflected in its curve. Just a little indulgence, then, the slightest lilt of it for Hikage's ear alone.
He puts down his teacup and folds his hands, settling back again to let the conversation flow around him, barbed as it is.]
[Marona watches this conversation unfold, exhaling softly as Subete says his piece. Saphir is - upset. Much more than she is, when her only real beef is with Subete being a generally neutral to unpleasant person to be around depending on his mood and the given scenario.
She still hasn't drunk her tea.]
I'm glad you made it safely. [A brief pause, and then:] When we heard Hikage was coming, we prepared for one guest. It was... surprising that there are two.
[It's an attempt at being a diplomat, but also, she's the one out of the lot that doesn't even speak very much. Her words aren't exactly impressive.]
Mr. Saphir and I have been looking forward to it, though. It's been a while.
[They were just... looking forward to time spent with Hikage, specifically.]
[ Saphir had already shrunk back from Hikage's reaction, suddenly feeling guilty and terrified even though he's still hurt and upset and still thinks he's justified in feeling that way. It's the same kind of nauseating panic he'd felt whenever he'd seen a similar look of anger or disapproval in another familiar red eye. Right before he'd gotten left behind, usually.
His heart is pounding in his ears loudly enough that he doesn't even notice what Subete says, and it's probably better that way. He hears Marona, though, as she tries her best to smooth things over, and even though he's very certain that it's not his fault she's in this miserable position, he can admit that he definitely isn't helping things either. ]
Good. Thank you.
[ His voice is much quieter again, and as measured as he can manage, which comes out sounding more mechanical than anything.
He sits back down slowly, sinking into his chair and lowering his head so that his hair falls forward and obscures his face. He's sick of everyone always seeing him cry. ]
There's a rainbow light walkway between some of the concourses there.
[ Spoken tentatively and carefully.
He picks up his napkin to wipe his nose, hoping it's less conspicuous than it feels. ]
[ There's a mix of things fighting for his attention right now: the indulgent lilt he wants to lean into, the quiet kindness that plucks at his heart, and the despair he wants to savor. The colors really aren't harmonious at all.
His eye continues to burn red. ]
Thank you...? Ahh, I see. [ The intonation in his voice really hasn't gotten any better at all, still much too saccharine. A small smile forms to match on his lips and he inclines his head slightly, giving Saphir no quarter. ]
You're too late, I saw it already. I was a bit...mesmerized by it actually. I think Subete had to hold my hand the entire way through.
Well, you'll have to forgive us for being scatterbrained.
[There's something airy and very rote behind that reply; it's not thoughtless, exactly, but it is like Marona hit one of the actually expected dialogue options at last and managed to trip a flag that isn't actually setting the entire table and adjacent room and cage on fire.
Of course, just because you haven't fought fire with fire doesn't mean the curtains aren't still merrily ablaze.
Subete is more than a little scatterbrained now with other flames, though, he's quite distracted where he shouldn't be and it's only gotten worse in the past few minutes -- everything, after all, is tangled together now in an unholy katamari of flights and rainbows and the plans of mice and men and Mario Kart, and if there's something that might be blamed for how ridiculously things are going it might be that no one here except Marona appears to be picking their words properly. It's entertaining to watch, even if his eyes are mostly on Hikage still, having snapped over at the mention of the rainbow feature.
If he continued to watch Saphir, after all, he might have burst out laughing and then possibly gotten tea thrown at him. It's a real danger. It's much easier to watch Hikage, if only so he isn't dearly tempted to join him. Even with his focus, though, there's a brief blink at where he's going with this.]
Ah. I believe the name of that installation was "The Sky's the Limit". [there's a brief softness to his voice in passing, almost subsumed under the knowing smile he aims at his companion but which might just be a note of general amusement given how far they've come now in all the worst ways] Perhaps next time the layover will be long enough to truly appreciate it, but I did get a picture all the same.
[ He hadn't been saying he needed to see it with him, just that he'd hoped he'd had a chance to see it, but he can't get the rest of the words out. They probably would have just found some cruel way to throw them back at him anyway.
He doesn't try to say anything else; he just looks down at the watery, blurred image of a cup of this tea he loved and was excited to share but will probably never be able to stand the taste of again. Which isn't fair; none of this is fair. As much as he desperately hates himself right now, there's no way he deserves this.
He hates that Subete is so much more powerful than he is, so he can't even properly fantasize about murdering him, which is a shame, since with no records of his existence in this world he could probably get away with it. Maybe if he were able to catch him off guard, one of his machines could just cut his stupid spiky head clean off before he had a chance to do anything. Or he could just take a page out of Date's book for some extra irony; it's not like he'd have any trouble constructing a projectile explosive like that. See how "scatterbrained" he is then.
That sounds nice. He'll give it some consideration. ]
[Another round of ribbing and the burning red doesn't fade, not even a little. If she knew the phrase "red eye flight" then perhaps there would be space for an ironic laugh, but she doesn't, so we'll just have to use our imaginations there. No, instead she's quietly at a loss, because you all are trading barbed words around a girl who seldom speaks as is.
As Saphir's words trail off, she shoots him a concerned glance before looking to Hikage and Subete again.]
-Are you sure you don't want to rest before we continue?
[It's posed as a question, but her words are a little too firm to be only that.]
[ That note is becoming one of his favorites, but it's also possible it always was. That smile is as well, in all its bends and curves—absentmindedly he hums a beat or two, familiar to the only one who can hear all its colors. Ahh, he shouldn't get distracted, though his lips have already relaxed to a less plastic smile when he returns the expression in kind.
The other words don't hold much purchase, but they are satisfactory enough. Hikage doesn't want to hear it, at least right now. What he wanted what seems like hours ago was to assert himself, no themselves, because how else was he supposed to read "whatever this is" but as a challenge? It's perhaps faulty logic, but it's still logic nonetheless. He lets that incomplete sentence drop on the table, looking and listening in case it's dared picked up again.
And so it takes him a second to redirect when the question floats in, like a dandelion carried by the wind. Flowers are something he'll always be partial to, even now. There's no need for competition in an environment like this one, and the red begins to ebb to a more fitting violet. He doesn't want to burn flowers, nor does he want them to sag under the weight of honeyed dew. ]
...we've come all this way here. But I wouldn't mind taking a bit of a break. [ Leaving just yet is premature, but they can do something much simpler and less dangerous than converse over tea. ]
[His smile widens a fraction at the familiar notes, few as they are -- the melody flows on regardless, fleeting but an almost tangible connection painting their quiet little exchange like the rainbow tunnel they managed to dash through what seems to be eons ago now and the colors of the sky that they absentmindedly watched flow by together.
(He's never been good at not being sentimental, but somehow flying and sleep deprivation together really bring out the worst of it; but at the least it hasn't brought out his own fickle temper, because then they'd really be in a pickle and a half.)
Quite unfortunately or fortunately for Saphir Subete's a bit too distracted to properly pay attention to the vague murderous intent now decorating the table -- it's almost impressive how well they can talk past each other when they put their minds to it, despite who they are; or maybe it's just that Subete has continued to change, for better or for worse, and now somehow he's found himself whole again. Somehow all other things pale under the echo of what's been said; somehow despite the ever-increasing mess here he's in a better mood than ever.
He hums a couple of notes right back, under his breath and even as he stands and stretches, signaling the end of this truly unholy tea party.]
Mmm, a break seems like just the thing. I have a couple of calls to make and things to check in on. [a pause as he slips his cellphone out of his pocket before he claps his hands (and phone) together, quick and ceremonial] Thanks for the tea, though. I'll have to look into getting some next time.
[A quick nod as she gets up. Her poor tea will just have to go undrunk.]
One of you can use my bed if you need to. I can show you the way to my room.
[Or they can just go back to the hotel, which is a perfectly reasonable option. Let's just. Get these men separated and sleeping for a while so we can all try again later.]
[ A yawn and a belated clap later (seconds stolen by the way he smiles at Subete and tilts his head toward the familiar melody), Hikage stands too. There's a quick glance at Saphir, but he says nothing and looks to Marona. ]
We have a hotel room and it's early yet. But if you want to show me your room, I'd like to see it. I have something I want to give you too. [ That's still separating them which is an improvement. There's also way too much food to be had sometime soon as well, because these things happen when you're involved with Subete. Teatime from hell is adjourned, though. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reanimania) wrote2020-06-18 07:45 am
no subject
And then, very softly:]
I didn't realize you two were so close.
1/2
He kind of misses when Hikage was more of a liar. ]
2/2
He has a million questions about this, though most of them amount to Why? if he gets right down to it. (Why him, why not me, why did you bring him here, is hurting me really still that entertaining?) Which he won't, because he doesn't want to hear the answers, at least not right now.
He looks down into his cup, blinking back tears and hating himself for it and for many other things.
Running away ruined everything for him last time, but he's tempted to do it again. Just leave his own house and go sit in a park somewhere for a week until he's sure they're gone. That's stupid, of course, but so is he. ]
Well. [ His voice is almost as soft as Marona's for once, because he knows it will crack if he's any louder. ] I asked about the flight, not that.
no subject
You're not the only one. [ Delicately and directed at no one in particular, not even himself. He's settled in some ways and not in others but he had made his choice several weeks ago so things are as they are. He doesn't need to understand all of them, just the essential parts. ]
It seemed important to say. [ Again he leaves it at that, though it's less of a mic drop this time and more like a very heavy feather. ]
no subject
Like the tea warming his nose he drinks in the voices around him, the different qualities of softness: nonplussed from Marona like a broken drum, it's so funny that neither he nor Hikage have ever been real eager to talk about whatever they were doing back under the influence of either murder or memories or mayhem all poisoned through with miasma tint, and maybe the weight of that is part of what muffled everything; crackling from Saphir, like a page about to rip or the insidious edge of water damage, and if he ignores the familiarity of it with the ease of practice there's something reassuring about it as well because he's not a good enough person to have mercy here; gossamer from Hikage, no longer opaque but almost invisible and too much in motion like soap bubbles in wind, somehow strangely the easiest to read -- maybe it's all the colors in and out of sunlight that have slowly seeped through over days and years, maybe it's something else.
None of the cadences or the tones match up at all, but he adds his own anyway: lets it float like a freshly plucked leaf, slightly crisp and quiet.]
That mansion hid a lot of things. It had to be good at something, after all.
[This one is aimed at everyone, even if there isn't so much an edge to it; there are things all of them lack context for, even as small as their world became back then, and there are also things he still holds grudges against the mansion for, but -- the fact that this particular thing isn't one of those lets him use it a little more lightly.
He could, of course, build upon it to lead the conversation forward -- the way he was raised to do, and the way he's been blithely doing since before he walked in the door, but instead he just settles back and lets the words and the tea warm him through, sipping easily in the ensuing silence.]
no subject
Why is this happening? If Hikage had brought some random girl over, he could have managed with a little effort to be the supportive friend he wants to be, but this-- forcing him into a situation where he has to invite this cold person who tried to frame him for murder into his house and serve him tea, and then learning that the friend he'd tried so hard not to let down cares more about that person than about him -- this feels like they're deliberately grinding salt into a wound that's still fresh. They know he'd lost all those memories during the time they'd been in stasis, right? That he hasn't actually had twenty years to process any of this?
There isn't going to be any pleasant silence to enjoy, because after having to listen to Subete's smug, uncaring voice again, Saphir stands up and slams a trembling hand down on the table -- weakly, but the silverware his hand unintentionally lands on still makes enough of a clatter to elicit a squawk from the bird in the next room. ]
Well, I don't want to hear it, so will you shut up about it and just answer my stupid question about the layover?
[ Raising his voice makes it break just like he'd expected; he sounds like a petulant child and he knows it and hates it. Nobody even cares about their flight, least of all him, but he can't deal with being brushed off and ignored right now, so this is what he's grabbing onto. ]
no subject
The silverware clangs, the cockatoo squawks, and Hikage flinches and then goes very still. Memories are a strange thing, he has so many, many more than he has pieces of himself. It's only been a little while since he's reclaimed his own, which may be why they burn bright and hot, and why he's only glanced at them from the side in passing. When he has the choice in the matter at least.
A long time ago, he sat at a table similar to this one, with a setting similar to this one, and listened to his step mother descend into rant after rant about this or that. The subject hardly mattered and it varied daily besides, but the real target was always obvious. He's honestly not sure which was better (worse), thrown porcelain or insects in his food. It doesn't matter that this situation isn't the same on most fronts, and it doesn't matter that the memory is over a century old (time really is cruel in its machinations). The echoes of it are there, briefly like a spark.
It takes a second for Hikage to catch himself, but he does, his right eye lighting up in tandem like a switch. The only warmth in his form emanates from that singular flare of red, all traces of it gone from the way he holds himself and moves as he sets the tea cup down. He won't rise, but he does meet Saphir's eyes; they're as piercing as they are dark, a story told not in the shades of miasma but his own personal shadows. ]
...the truth is like that, isn't it? It's nice to know that lying is better, like I expected, all along. [ He very nearly laughs but not quite, and his words have that honeyed quality to them that both Subete and Saphir should recognize. There's no smile to match, though. ]
But yes, of course—our layover in Chicago was fine, we even had time to share a chocolate croissant.
no subject
There are little mismatched bits and pieces of these interactions that he's fitting together -- the last time he'd seen this web of relationships had been through the spider's silk of miasma, a double layer even, so having it so loudly dragged into the daylight sure is something. He's not sure what he expected -- he's learned to budget for worst-case scenarios but even to him this is a little beyond a night or two of planning. People and words, you know.
What stands out to him with a razor sort of clarity even in the midst of the noise is the flaring red of Hikage's eye, and he knows better than to place himself within the range of its burn just now (even if he had the motivation to do so) but the intermingling of scarlet and honey takes him back just a little: maybe a couple of weeks, months, years to sake-tinged evenings or weighted stares exchanged across a much wider distance. Inappropriate, perhaps, but no facet of their relationship is particularly appropriate and in some ways he's accepted that along with who he is these days. And who they are.
Softly he hums into his drink, a thinking pause of his own -- he could feed the flames but all the same:]
Yes. I thought we were in danger of missing our connecting flight at that point, really, but I'm sure there will be plenty more to see.
[He keeps his turn of phrase careful this time, skirting the angry edge of that truth wielded like a blade even if he would have liked to polish it until it shone and look into everything reflected in its curve. Just a little indulgence, then, the slightest lilt of it for Hikage's ear alone.
He puts down his teacup and folds his hands, settling back again to let the conversation flow around him, barbed as it is.]
no subject
She still hasn't drunk her tea.]
I'm glad you made it safely. [A brief pause, and then:] When we heard Hikage was coming, we prepared for one guest. It was... surprising that there are two.
[It's an attempt at being a diplomat, but also, she's the one out of the lot that doesn't even speak very much. Her words aren't exactly impressive.]
Mr. Saphir and I have been looking forward to it, though. It's been a while.
[They were just... looking forward to time spent with Hikage, specifically.]
no subject
His heart is pounding in his ears loudly enough that he doesn't even notice what Subete says, and it's probably better that way. He hears Marona, though, as she tries her best to smooth things over, and even though he's very certain that it's not his fault she's in this miserable position, he can admit that he definitely isn't helping things either. ]
Good. Thank you.
[ His voice is much quieter again, and as measured as he can manage, which comes out sounding more mechanical than anything.
He sits back down slowly, sinking into his chair and lowering his head so that his hair falls forward and obscures his face. He's sick of everyone always seeing him cry. ]
There's a rainbow light walkway between some of the concourses there.
[ Spoken tentatively and carefully.
He picks up his napkin to wipe his nose, hoping it's less conspicuous than it feels. ]
I thought it was something you might like.
no subject
His eye continues to burn red. ]
Thank you...? Ahh, I see. [ The intonation in his voice really hasn't gotten any better at all, still much too saccharine. A small smile forms to match on his lips and he inclines his head slightly, giving Saphir no quarter. ]
You're too late, I saw it already. I was a bit...mesmerized by it actually. I think Subete had to hold my hand the entire way through.
no subject
[There's something airy and very rote behind that reply; it's not thoughtless, exactly, but it is like Marona hit one of the actually expected dialogue options at last and managed to trip a flag that isn't actually setting the entire table and adjacent room and cage on fire.
Of course, just because you haven't fought fire with fire doesn't mean the curtains aren't still merrily ablaze.
Subete is more than a little scatterbrained now with other flames, though, he's quite distracted where he shouldn't be and it's only gotten worse in the past few minutes -- everything, after all, is tangled together now in an unholy katamari of flights and rainbows and the plans of mice and men and Mario Kart, and if there's something that might be blamed for how ridiculously things are going it might be that no one here except Marona appears to be picking their words properly. It's entertaining to watch, even if his eyes are mostly on Hikage still, having snapped over at the mention of the rainbow feature.
If he continued to watch Saphir, after all, he might have burst out laughing and then possibly gotten tea thrown at him. It's a real danger. It's much easier to watch Hikage, if only so he isn't dearly tempted to join him. Even with his focus, though, there's a brief blink at where he's going with this.]
Ah. I believe the name of that installation was "The Sky's the Limit". [there's a brief softness to his voice in passing, almost subsumed under the knowing smile he aims at his companion but which might just be a note of general amusement given how far they've come now in all the worst ways] Perhaps next time the layover will be long enough to truly appreciate it, but I did get a picture all the same.
no subject
[ He hadn't been saying he needed to see it with him, just that he'd hoped he'd had a chance to see it, but he can't get the rest of the words out. They probably would have just found some cruel way to throw them back at him anyway.
He doesn't try to say anything else; he just looks down at the watery, blurred image of a cup of this tea he loved and was excited to share but will probably never be able to stand the taste of again. Which isn't fair; none of this is fair. As much as he desperately hates himself right now, there's no way he deserves this.
He hates that Subete is so much more powerful than he is, so he can't even properly fantasize about murdering him, which is a shame, since with no records of his existence in this world he could probably get away with it. Maybe if he were able to catch him off guard, one of his machines could just cut his stupid spiky head clean off before he had a chance to do anything. Or he could just take a page out of Date's book for some extra irony; it's not like he'd have any trouble constructing a projectile explosive like that. See how "scatterbrained" he is then.
That sounds nice. He'll give it some consideration. ]
no subject
As Saphir's words trail off, she shoots him a concerned glance before looking to Hikage and Subete again.]
-Are you sure you don't want to rest before we continue?
[It's posed as a question, but her words are a little too firm to be only that.]
no subject
The other words don't hold much purchase, but they are satisfactory enough. Hikage doesn't want to hear it, at least right now. What he wanted what seems like hours ago was to assert himself, no themselves, because how else was he supposed to read "whatever this is" but as a challenge? It's perhaps faulty logic, but it's still logic nonetheless. He lets that incomplete sentence drop on the table, looking and listening in case it's dared picked up again.
And so it takes him a second to redirect when the question floats in, like a dandelion carried by the wind. Flowers are something he'll always be partial to, even now. There's no need for competition in an environment like this one, and the red begins to ebb to a more fitting violet. He doesn't want to burn flowers, nor does he want them to sag under the weight of honeyed dew. ]
...we've come all this way here. But I wouldn't mind taking a bit of a break. [ Leaving just yet is premature, but they can do something much simpler and less dangerous than converse over tea. ]
no subject
(He's never been good at not being sentimental, but somehow flying and sleep deprivation together really bring out the worst of it; but at the least it hasn't brought out his own fickle temper, because then they'd really be in a pickle and a half.)
Quite unfortunately or fortunately for Saphir Subete's a bit too distracted to properly pay attention to the vague murderous intent now decorating the table -- it's almost impressive how well they can talk past each other when they put their minds to it, despite who they are; or maybe it's just that Subete has continued to change, for better or for worse, and now somehow he's found himself whole again. Somehow all other things pale under the echo of what's been said; somehow despite the ever-increasing mess here he's in a better mood than ever.
He hums a couple of notes right back, under his breath and even as he stands and stretches, signaling the end of this truly unholy tea party.]
Mmm, a break seems like just the thing. I have a couple of calls to make and things to check in on. [a pause as he slips his cellphone out of his pocket before he claps his hands (and phone) together, quick and ceremonial] Thanks for the tea, though. I'll have to look into getting some next time.
[..... I'm sorry that he's just more or less stolen this tea but go figure. Also: get ready for catering invasion via way too much vegetarian food because that's also happening at some point.]
no subject
One of you can use my bed if you need to. I can show you the way to my room.
[Or they can just go back to the hotel, which is a perfectly reasonable option. Let's just. Get these men separated and sleeping for a while so we can all try again later.]
no subject
We have a hotel room and it's early yet. But if you want to show me your room, I'd like to see it. I have something I want to give you too. [ That's still separating them which is an improvement. There's also way too much food to be had sometime soon as well, because these things happen when you're involved with Subete. Teatime from hell is adjourned, though. ]