(no subject)

[velluminous]

Who: Mister Adair, Ms Fairplay, and you!
When: September 15
Where: At the bulletin board
What: A warning
Warnings: none

[ this morning, two Kin'uns are at the bulletin board, adding a new entry, and then simply loitering nearby.

Ms Fairplay, notably, has her arm in a sling. Mister Adair... fares better, with a few scratches upon his hands and face. both of them look... pecked. ]

There. [ says Ms Fairplay, of her clumsy signage. ]

Comments

[ratiocinations]

["All that." help

She bears the same angry peck-marks as he does, too. If nothing else, at least the pain medication will help even those, and they will fade the quickest of all.]

That is the folly of youth.

[guy who sometimes also thinks he is "all that"]

Were you not emotional like them, when you were their age?

[He takes her hair, gently, and begins to divide it into three sections. His fingers sting a little, but it's fine.]

[velluminous]

[ little, bruised punctures. cuts and lacerations. they sting, but it is his questioning which she feels the keenest. tips her face forward, tucking her chin—almost hunching down into her shoulders as he sections off her hair. ]

I was unhappy young woman. My grandfather passed so soon after I turn fourteen.

[ratiocinations]

[These are rather the questions that she shies away from the most, and a part of him is surprised he earned a sincere answer.

He begins to braid in earnest. Though she cannot see it, from his precise movements, it is clear that he means to make it neat. As unclumsy as he can manage.]

I am sorry to hear it. Those wounds are even deeper at an age like that.

[velluminous]

[ her grandfather, who would do this for her when she was too young to do it for herself. ah, it's a painful thing. a lump in her throat makes it difficult to swallow. ]

I remember being happy child. That girl... she was so blind to those horrible things in life.

[ but even this contains a seed of self-deception. was she happy? or simply happier than she is now? ]

[ratiocinations]

That is how we wish all children to be, even though it is not always the case for many.

[In his era, especially.]

Did you have many friends when you were a child?

[velluminous]

[ her face lowers deeper. she hugs herself with her uninjured arm, even though it puts pressure on the other's socket. a self-soothing gesture, one might think. ]

[ratiocinations]

[And it is clearly the answer to his question. And yet she proclaims herself a happy child, all the same. Perhaps only in the company of her grandfather, or at least that may have been where the brightest memories lay amid… all else.

Pausing, still working at her hair. A single braid will not take long, despite how meticulous he is.]

For what it is worth, neither did I.

[velluminous]

Why...?

[ratiocinations]

Because I was a child who spoke too much like an adult, and was too curious, too meddlesome, and often presumptuous. And brimming with unspent energy.

[Honestly he was just plain weird.]

And while my turn for logic and observation won me a few friendly acquaintances, especially as I grew older, I would not say I was ever given to close friendships as a general rule.

[velluminous]

[ all of those things, perhaps, but most salient of all: he was still a child. and so was she. ]

And then you meet your doctor friend, and everything changes for better.

[ yes—this segment of the topic is ground they have tread before. ]

Ha...

[ratiocinations]

[They have. But…]

You make it sound as though the change happened overnight. It did not.

[velluminous]

Of course it did not.

[ratiocinations]

It took work. Awareness. Conscious attempts to not push a friendship away or test its boundaries.

[And even then, sometimes he did not always manage with astounding success.]

[velluminous]

[ what is a relationship worth, that its bounds cannot be tested?

well, perhaps she isn't the best judge of that. no relationship of hers has survived her testing. ]

I am glad for your love. Such friendships are rare.

[ratiocinations]

[Wow, straight up using the "L" word. Not that it doesn't apply, but so very, very few ever use it to describe his relationship with anyone — even if it is the bond between close friends who have known each other for more than a decade.]

But found more commonly amid extenuating circumstances.

[Like this place. Go make friends, Ms Fairplay.]

[velluminous]

[ no. <3

glancing back at him—regardless of his progression on her braid. ]

Is detective's life [ softly spoken; she is being careful ] not full of such things?

[ratiocinations]

[Practically done at this point. Just a few more pleats to go and then he'll have to fuss around in a pocket for something to tie it with. He's sure he picked up a rubber band recently...]

My profession waltzes in and out of people's lives frequently. Very few are a constant.

[Clients come, clients go. Sometimes he sees them again months or years later, or a relative of theirs comes knocking, but often times? Never agai.]

/2

[velluminous]

[ a lingering look; she deems him sincere ]

[velluminous]

All my life, it has been same people. Same names, same faces, same parties, same... bah. Everything.

[ratiocinations]

[So: her life is rote.]

Perhaps you are in need of travel.

[Haunted school doesn't count.]

[velluminous]

Da. I need to go somewhere... very far away.

[ and in so doing, she will leave most of her heart behind. ]

[ratiocinations]

Isn’t that a concept that excites, Ms Fairplay? You make it sound the same as exile.

[velluminous]

I love my city. [ heavily, and certain this, too, is retread ground, ] It does not love me. I cannot imagine living anywhere else.

[ratiocinations]

But who is to say it must be a permanent departure? Go traveling, my dear. See your world. The people in it. It will be good for your soul, and then, when the time is right, return to your city. It may just as well feel more welcoming after.

[velluminous]

What if it does not welcome me?