[ Safe assumption that there's no competition for the title he claims, but it doesn't diminish the amusement. She's easily able to picture Verso making the attempt over and over again, filling a fraction of those long, lonely decades-...
Though, maybe a little less lonely, if - ] Did Monoco ride with you?
[ His gestral friend had just joined their group, after all, and she's seen their dynamic. Even with the few interactions they've witnessed so far, it doesn't seem like a stretch at all to think that they might enable each other's reckless ideas.
Her piqued, mischievous interest evens out a bit as he traces the tattoo etched into her chest, and she cocks her head up at him as she explains: ]
Not really. Nothing interesting, anyway. When I decided to join the Expedition, I... [ Sciel pauses. How to phrase it? ] ...I'd been teaching, as you know, and farming before that. And though some of that...physicality has definitely been helpful, [ not to mention the scythe ] it didn't feel like enough.
[ It hadn't been that she'd doubted her own abilities, but rather than she'd seen the brutal reality. The Expeditions had smaller and smaller groups every year, both because of the dwindling population and the dwindling faith in their capabilities. And though nobody had said this, Sciel knew, somehow, that going in without having done absolutely everything possible to give them the best chance at success was...if not a waste, then ill-advised. ]
Lune already had some of her own. [ She continues, briefly lifting a few fingers to press over his before withdrawing, the tattoo giving off the faintest glow. ] That's where I got the idea.
[ Chroma tattoos aren't uncommon in Lumière (though there are some who decry them still), and it'd made sense to try and enhance her own natural abilities -- and develop new ones -- in something strong and permanent enough to see the Expedition through.
Sciel shrugs, one-shouldered. ] Hurt like hell, of course, but...worth it. And I'm very happy with how it turned out.
[ Best of both worlds: a cool design that also happens to let her manipulate light and shadow, using her cards as a focus. There are no alternatives, she thinks, when the deck is so terribly stacked against you. ]
Monoco, uh... [Tried at first. Valiantly, even. But apparently, hurtling down fractured train tracks at warp speed is not his flavour of adventure.] Cheered me on from the sidelines.
[Which was nice, too. Less, That was awful, you nearly got us killed, blah, blah, blah, and more, That was amazing, you nearly got yourself killed. And yes it was, and yes he did, but he wouldn't be offering to take Sciel carting on down if he wasn't confident he'd be able to keep her from getting hurt, so it's all good. Probably.
Regardless, he shoos the thoughts of Monoco from his mind and focuses instead on the story Sciel tells, on the light she casts across her skin. His fingers chase it like he's tracing the stars, marvelling at the symmetry, the shading, the implications of strength and power, and the way the artist worked contrast into the linework. The reluctant artist in him knows talent when he sees it, but the liar knows better than to give that away, so all he offers is a simple:]
It's beautiful.
[And she's beautiful, and the night is lovely, and it almost feels a shame to have to wash away how he's brought colour and sheen to her skin, but the realist always swings around to supersede the romantic eventually, and so he turns back to the water, first testing the outside of the basin, then dipping his finger into the melted snow. Close to perfect on the side of being too warm. Stepping away, he gestures her towards it in his usual over-the-top style.]
Honneur aux femmes.
[Not that they need to take turns on a practical level, but he is a seasoned forestman and sometimes gentleman, and so he'll let her wash herself clean and use what's left of the water for himself.]
Thanks, by the way. For tonight. It was fun.
[Even the parts when she and her cards bore into his soul like it wasn't barricaded behind a litany of masks.]
[ An idea so ill-advised that even his gestral best friend wouldn't join in. Hmm. This should probably be an obvious red flag, and it is, but...ah, well. It's some mix of the pleasant chemicals that so recently flooded her system combined with the fact that it does still sound fun that have her maintaining her easy grin, unbothered. ]
Well, I'm looking forward to joining the ranks of survivors. [ She chuckles. Really, the more unpleasant notion is going back out into the biting cold after all this, and she casts her discarded coat a momentarily look, sighing.
His comment on her tattoo, simple as it is, draws her back in. Sciel turns, lips pulling up again in a grateful smile. When Verso steps away to check the water, she follows the same path his finger had drawn with her own, thinking about the experience of having gotten the tattoo and first using the abilities that it afforded. It feels like...ages ago, though it really hasn't been very long, in the scheme of things.
Time's a funny thing, though, isn't it. The past stretches back an impossible distance one minute and feels incredibly recent the next. The difficult times drag on, the good ones disappear in a flash. And then, as always, tomorrow comes. ]
Merci. [ Sciel replies, hopping off the table to the basin. She dips her fingers in first -- not because she doesn't trust his judgment, but for the sheer, pleasant sensation of it -- before following with the washcloth, taking her time to wipe away the outward evidence of their tryst even as it lingers in her mind. ]
It was. [ She agrees, smile skewing sideways as she regards him. Neither of them has donned their uniforms again, of course, so she takes a moment to capture another mental snapshot as she dabs absently at her face. ] I really enjoyed myself, Verso. Glad you feel the same.
[ There's no way of knowing what the next day might bring, but this, at least, is good. A mote of warmth to hold on to when the nights are cold and the days are unkind.
And...if those nights or days produce another opportunity like this, she'll make sure to seize it. ]
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tableauvivant) wrote2025-09-17 01:14 pm
no subject
Though, maybe a little less lonely, if - ] Did Monoco ride with you?
[ His gestral friend had just joined their group, after all, and she's seen their dynamic. Even with the few interactions they've witnessed so far, it doesn't seem like a stretch at all to think that they might enable each other's reckless ideas.
Her piqued, mischievous interest evens out a bit as he traces the tattoo etched into her chest, and she cocks her head up at him as she explains: ]
Not really. Nothing interesting, anyway. When I decided to join the Expedition, I... [ Sciel pauses. How to phrase it? ] ...I'd been teaching, as you know, and farming before that. And though some of that...physicality has definitely been helpful, [ not to mention the scythe ] it didn't feel like enough.
[ It hadn't been that she'd doubted her own abilities, but rather than she'd seen the brutal reality. The Expeditions had smaller and smaller groups every year, both because of the dwindling population and the dwindling faith in their capabilities. And though nobody had said this, Sciel knew, somehow, that going in without having done absolutely everything possible to give them the best chance at success was...if not a waste, then ill-advised. ]
Lune already had some of her own. [ She continues, briefly lifting a few fingers to press over his before withdrawing, the tattoo giving off the faintest glow. ] That's where I got the idea.
[ Chroma tattoos aren't uncommon in Lumière (though there are some who decry them still), and it'd made sense to try and enhance her own natural abilities -- and develop new ones -- in something strong and permanent enough to see the Expedition through.
Sciel shrugs, one-shouldered. ] Hurt like hell, of course, but...worth it. And I'm very happy with how it turned out.
[ Best of both worlds: a cool design that also happens to let her manipulate light and shadow, using her cards as a focus. There are no alternatives, she thinks, when the deck is so terribly stacked against you. ]
no subject
[Which was nice, too. Less, That was awful, you nearly got us killed, blah, blah, blah, and more, That was amazing, you nearly got yourself killed. And yes it was, and yes he did, but he wouldn't be offering to take Sciel carting on down if he wasn't confident he'd be able to keep her from getting hurt, so it's all good. Probably.
Regardless, he shoos the thoughts of Monoco from his mind and focuses instead on the story Sciel tells, on the light she casts across her skin. His fingers chase it like he's tracing the stars, marvelling at the symmetry, the shading, the implications of strength and power, and the way the artist worked contrast into the linework. The reluctant artist in him knows talent when he sees it, but the liar knows better than to give that away, so all he offers is a simple:]
It's beautiful.
[And she's beautiful, and the night is lovely, and it almost feels a shame to have to wash away how he's brought colour and sheen to her skin, but the realist always swings around to supersede the romantic eventually, and so he turns back to the water, first testing the outside of the basin, then dipping his finger into the melted snow. Close to perfect on the side of being too warm. Stepping away, he gestures her towards it in his usual over-the-top style.]
Honneur aux femmes.
[Not that they need to take turns on a practical level, but he is a seasoned forestman and sometimes gentleman, and so he'll let her wash herself clean and use what's left of the water for himself.]
Thanks, by the way. For tonight. It was fun.
[Even the parts when she and her cards bore into his soul like it wasn't barricaded behind a litany of masks.]
no subject
Well, I'm looking forward to joining the ranks of survivors. [ She chuckles. Really, the more unpleasant notion is going back out into the biting cold after all this, and she casts her discarded coat a momentarily look, sighing.
His comment on her tattoo, simple as it is, draws her back in. Sciel turns, lips pulling up again in a grateful smile. When Verso steps away to check the water, she follows the same path his finger had drawn with her own, thinking about the experience of having gotten the tattoo and first using the abilities that it afforded. It feels like...ages ago, though it really hasn't been very long, in the scheme of things.
Time's a funny thing, though, isn't it. The past stretches back an impossible distance one minute and feels incredibly recent the next. The difficult times drag on, the good ones disappear in a flash. And then, as always, tomorrow comes. ]
Merci. [ Sciel replies, hopping off the table to the basin. She dips her fingers in first -- not because she doesn't trust his judgment, but for the sheer, pleasant sensation of it -- before following with the washcloth, taking her time to wipe away the outward evidence of their tryst even as it lingers in her mind. ]
It was. [ She agrees, smile skewing sideways as she regards him. Neither of them has donned their uniforms again, of course, so she takes a moment to capture another mental snapshot as she dabs absently at her face. ] I really enjoyed myself, Verso. Glad you feel the same.
[ There's no way of knowing what the next day might bring, but this, at least, is good. A mote of warmth to hold on to when the nights are cold and the days are unkind.
And...if those nights or days produce another opportunity like this, she'll make sure to seize it. ]