[ it's something like 40 minutes before he responds. if it's after 5, he's pretty much guaranteed to be a in a bar somewhere, and checking messages isn't high on his list of priorities. ]
I don't know that I would be the best resource for that topic, but yes, we can discuss it.
[ "magic"?? and she accused him of using unscientific terms? ]
If that's the case, I'm sure it's because the "supernatural" can be categorized and understood logically after a certain point. What we're calling magic is really just phenomena we don't understand yet.
[ she still thinks that, even with magic being real here and everything. It has to have an explanation somewhere underneath the fairy dust and glowing special effects. ]
I'm still looking to understand how we arrived here. It might seem basic, but without that bottom line, I'm not sure how much work I can put into getting us back out of here.
[ that particular question, though, even if he is curious about it all, isn't one he's necessarily so eager to answer. reading between the lines of his conversation with the good dr. mathis made it fairly clear that the only thing he has to look forward to when he goes back to elympios is being killed and used as someone else's ticket into canaan, and as little as he likes this place, it's still preferable to that. ]
You're not buying the stories they told us, then, I take it?
I might believe it if I had any evidence whatsoever that they were telling the truth. The only part of their story that's provably true is that they've taken us, or our consciousness, and put us somewhere else.
[ Kurisu is very much a hard evidence person, but even so... Their attitude and the nonstop danger and casual threats to their lives by CERES don't reflect well on their honesty, either. ]
Indeed. The more evidence we gather, the more it seems to invalidate the information they gave us.
[ unfortunately, perhaps. he takes another drink. ]
Whatever their method of bringing us here, it doesn't seem to bear much similarity to the dimensional travel we're used to, if that was one of the things you were wondering.
[ no matter how long she was here, how many times this thing happened— cerealia could always manage to find a way to dig under her skin. it wasn't as if she made it a habit to drown her disgust away after every instance where she wasn't herself (then she'd be two steps away from being an alcoholic) but this time had been disgusting, she felt unclean, and since drinking bleach wasn't an option to cleanse herself of flirting!! with rideaux!!! she figures alcohol is the next best solution.
so, she's at the least seedy and obnoxious bar she can find, trying to ignore everyone, everything. also, vodka.
and because she's milla, her luck is most likely terrible and her night is not sacred.
[ for rideaux, on the other hand, drinking his pains away has been a longstanding tradition. he'd probably spent more time at the bar in duval over the years than he had in his own apartment. while the bars in this place don't suit his tastes nearly as well, they're better than nothing, and stopping for at least one drink after work is still a part of his daily routine. (and a much needed one now after that atrocious conversation with jude mathis.)
so when milla sits down at the bar, he's already been there for some time, and is sipping his second drink from a few seats away and paying only the vaguest attention to the television screen above the bar. it's only when she orders for herself that he realizes she's there, the familiar voice (she's always a little loud, though he suspects she would deny that) causing him to look over in her direction.
ah... now that's an interaction he doesn't mind recalling. maybe the lines he'd given her while under this place's influence had been just as lewd and embarrassing as the things he'd said to jude, but he doesn't have much reason to regret it in this case. she'd lapped his words right up. it was only a shame they hadn't gotten him further.
after a brief moment's thought, he stops the bartender to tell him that her first drink can go on his tab (he supposes he does owe her one for ending her existence) and looks back toward her with a smile. ]
[ ... no, yes, of course. she becomes the dictionary definition of tense when rideaux's voice cuts through the background noise, when that infuriating smile of his comes to focus in her line of sight, and when she realizes she has the luck of a guy who's broken mirrors and stepped underneath ladders for the majority of his depressing existence.
milla doesn't mean to make her distaste so obvious. it's all satisfaction for him, she figures, but it's hard to cling onto the necessity of "hiding your emotions" when the reason for your misfortune is sitting near you. doubly so when you're basically an open book, which milla unfortunately is.
so, the hand she's resting on the counter curls into a fist.
and she wills away the disgusting things they'd exchanged from her memory. ]
Don't.
[ please applaud her self-control, as that actually sounds like an actual word and not the tangled mess of syllables that's in her mind right now. lkfdlkjgJDLKGJDFL, some might say. ]
[ truly, he's not even trying to provoke her, though he doesn't exactly mind that he's doing it. he stays where he is, with two empty seats between them, keeping a polite distance. ]
I didn't take you for the type, honestly. Though I suppose that can be chalked up to the company you keep.
[ he could never imagine stereotypical nice kids like jude or leia sitting down at a bar like this. but then, they'd probably never had any real sorrows to drown. not like him or julius, or even her. ]
[ his existence provokes her. she eyes him suspiciously, as if he has some ulterior motive in being here and engaging in conversation with her. maybe it's ridiculous how on edge she is, but considering their relationship? maybe not.
the fact he's acting like nothing happened between them is aggravating (if he had reminded her of their flirting, though, she'd just be mad. so there's no winning).
when milla turns her gaze away, she speaks, her words taut. ]
And I thought you'd be the one to push people to drink, not drinking yourself. [ not that she'd thought rideaux is completely free of problems, but it isn't like she gave it much thought. unlike those do-gooders he's thinking of—her company—she can't quite say she cares. ] In case you didn't figure it out already, I'm not like them.
[ not that she's angsting about that at the moment, it's just a fact. ]
[ even excluding her, he's well aware that he's driven plenty of his subordinates at spirius to drink, and probably worse. he'll never apologize for that, though; he may be demanding, but his team is more effective than anyone else's because of it.
he takes another sip as he looks her over. obviously there are differences he can appreciate, but he's a little curious what she thinks those differences are. ]
when milla's drink comes—a bloody mary, vodka and tomato she needs it—she's not sure whether she's completely lost her desire to partake in anything due to this meeting, or if it makes her want to guzzle the whole thing down. ]
Since when do you care what I think?
[ it's the first thing that comes to mind, flat and honest.
but despite her reflex that makes her respond with immediate aloof bitterness, the way her lips press together and the way she looks at her glass seems to imply she's at least considering a response (not that she needs to, she has a laundry list of Reasons why she's not completely one with their shiny jrpg party). it comes a brief moment later, a quiet afterthought. ]
... I'm considering running through you with my sword, for one.
[ but she won't.
though she's obviously not shy about that having crossed her mind. ]
[ he has never been anyone's pal in his entire life. that said, raven does get the honor of being the first person he's ever had over to his apartment here, if only because he hasn't been up to commuting to work since he got back from that run-down subway station three days ago.
[Maybe all Rideaux really needs is a bumbling but lovable patient/customer to show him the joys of having pals. ...Or maybe Raven is just that weirdly chummy with most people he's just met.]
Got it! I'll give ya a shout if I get lost.
[Fortunately he doesn't actually get lost, because a little while after the exchange, there's a knock at Rideaux's apartment.]
[ even though he's expecting the knock on the door, it takes him a minute to get there -- he's got to get up from the couch and onto his crutches and make his way across the room.
he fucking hates this, and looking back, it's a wonder he managed to spend so much time on them as a child without wanting to break everything in the room out of frustration. he'd been used to it, he supposes, and having never had normal physical capabilities at the time, he hadn't really grasped how much easier it was for everyone else.
finally opening the door, he moves back out of the way as best he can to let raven inside. ]
Welcome. [ it's not actually said in the most welcoming tone, but hey, it's a greeting. ] If you don't mind closing the door behind you.
[Raven's visibly taken aback to see him on crutches. He tries not to gawk for too long, though, entering and obliging to close the door behind him.]
Guess this is why I'm makin' the house call instead of the other way around, huh?
[He offers a wry smile and passes Rideaux, looking around. He seems like the kind of guy who would appreciate dark humour a little more than fussing or concern, which suits Raven just fine.]
[ They don't speak about personal things much, although there are exceptions. Occasionally, he lobs brief, succinct questions about the circumstances of her death (and that, only after Mosley's broadcast) - or, even less welcome, makes deprecating comments whenever Jaune calls or texts her mid-shift. All of these, Pyrrha handles with extreme care, stuck on a perpetual knife's edge between meaningless indignation at his manner and respect for his intelligence and his work.
When she sees the note on the calendar. though, Pyrrha can't help herself. She spends a week putting small things together, doing her best to gauge his preferences while being aware not to embarrass him.
So, on the anniversary of his birth, he'll find a small card on his desk. With it, a bottle of red wine, neither extravagantly overpriced nor insultingly cheap, and a small tin of ginger snap cookies. The tin and the bottle are wrapped in velvet ribbons, not paper, but the ribbons purposely match the typical colour coordination of his more well-worn clothing.
The card is very austere, the front graphic generic and the manufactured message one of well wishes on a birthday. Below it, in neat handwriting, Pyrrha has left:
Many happy returns, Rideaux. I hope you have a great year following. Sincerely, Pyrrha.
And, rather unfortunately, below that, in thick sharpie:
Me too!! JAUNE ARC (we spoke on the phone)
(That last had not been her idea, but it had been too late to get him another card.) ]
Edited 2016-10-22 00:41 (UTC)
lmao i made it up myself so you wouldn't find it anywhere don't worry
[ normally, rideaux takes pleasure in making sure everyone around him knows when his birthday is coming up, and making them feel obligated to buy him gifts or do special favors for him. with this one, though, everything about it is complicated, and aside from making the note on his calendar, as of this morning, he hasn't said anything about it to anyone yet.
honestly, he really shouldn't even call it his birthday at all when it hasn't been a full 336 days since the last one he celebrated back in elympios; but it is the third day of the eleventh month by this world's calendar, and frankly it's less of a hassle to just go along with that than to keep track of counting the days.
so it's a small solace that he's not really quite thirty, but he's still not eager to publicize just how close he is to it. there is a significant line in between twenty-nine and thirty as far as he's concerned, and as someone who puts a great deal of importance on image, he doesn't want to be seen as being on the other side of that line.
beyond those technical and shallow complications, though, the fact is he's almost certainly not going to live to see another birthday in elympios if he goes back. his life had always been in a precarious enough position that each year -- even as a child -- he had briefly entertained the thought that this one could be his last, but it had never been such a real and imminent truth as it seems to be now. he's never been a remotely sentimental person, and has never wasted time on pointless introspection, but it would be a lie to say that this day wouldn't give him at least a moment's pause.
"a great year following"... that's a laugh. this gift on his desk is probably the last one he'll ever get.
he tucks the card back into its envelope and sets it back down when pyrrha is back in his line of sight. ]
Very thoughtful. Thank you.
I was like "what obscure canon materials are escaping me"
[ The circumstances of his world and his life aren't things he's especially deigned to share with her, even if she has had a front row seat to his spikes of illness over the past few months. Other than that day following Mosley's broadcast, Rideaux doesn't tell and Pyrrha doesn't ask, and vice versa.
Truthfully, she's glad he had appreciated it. Not that she had done it for the praise, but a poorly received gesture could have made her work day (or work week!) a lot more stressful. When he speaks up, she looks over. As ever, he's inscrutable.
Pyrrha chooses to take his words at face value. ]
You're welcome.
[ For a moment, she opts to divide her attention equally between her task and this conversation. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text
I wanted to ask you about magic. Do you have a moment? [ inner cringe... ]
text
I don't know that I would be the best resource for that topic, but yes, we can discuss it.
[ "magic"?? and she accused him of using unscientific terms? ]
text
You're the best resource that I know at the moment.
The work you've done involves some amount of research on "magic" / supernatural phenomena as it relates to dimensional shifts, correct?
text
anyway, that's close enough to a compliment that he's more willing to respond quickly this time. ]
I suppose so. The line between science and the "supernatural" isn't so clear the further you delve into it.
What sort of phenomena are you looking into?
text
[ she still thinks that, even with magic being real here and everything. It has to have an explanation somewhere underneath the fairy dust and glowing special effects. ]
I'm still looking to understand how we arrived here. It might seem basic, but without that bottom line, I'm not sure how much work I can put into getting us back out of here.
text
[ that particular question, though, even if he is curious about it all, isn't one he's necessarily so eager to answer. reading between the lines of his conversation with the good dr. mathis made it fairly clear that the only thing he has to look forward to when he goes back to elympios is being killed and used as someone else's ticket into canaan, and as little as he likes this place, it's still preferable to that. ]
You're not buying the stories they told us, then, I take it?
text
[ Kurisu is very much a hard evidence person, but even so... Their attitude and the nonstop danger and casual threats to their lives by CERES don't reflect well on their honesty, either. ]
text
[ unfortunately, perhaps. he takes another drink. ]
Whatever their method of bringing us here, it doesn't seem to bear much similarity to the dimensional travel we're used to, if that was one of the things you were wondering.
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
text
backdated drinking shenanigans.
so, she's at the least seedy and obnoxious bar she can find, trying to ignore everyone, everything. also, vodka.
and because she's milla, her luck is most likely terrible and her night is not sacred.
save her from herself. ]
no subject
so when milla sits down at the bar, he's already been there for some time, and is sipping his second drink from a few seats away and paying only the vaguest attention to the television screen above the bar. it's only when she orders for herself that he realizes she's there, the familiar voice (she's always a little loud, though he suspects she would deny that) causing him to look over in her direction.
ah... now that's an interaction he doesn't mind recalling. maybe the lines he'd given her while under this place's influence had been just as lewd and embarrassing as the things he'd said to jude, but he doesn't have much reason to regret it in this case. she'd lapped his words right up. it was only a shame they hadn't gotten him further.
after a brief moment's thought, he stops the bartender to tell him that her first drink can go on his tab (he supposes he does owe her one for ending her existence) and looks back toward her with a smile. ]
I see the former Maxwell still likes her spirits.
no subject
milla doesn't mean to make her distaste so obvious. it's all satisfaction for him, she figures, but it's hard to cling onto the necessity of "hiding your emotions" when the reason for your misfortune is sitting near you. doubly so when you're basically an open book, which milla unfortunately is.
so, the hand she's resting on the counter curls into a fist.
and she wills away the disgusting things they'd exchanged from her memory. ]
Don't.
[ please applaud her self-control, as that actually sounds like an actual word and not the tangled mess of syllables that's in her mind right now. lkfdlkjgJDLKGJDFL, some might say. ]
no subject
I didn't take you for the type, honestly. Though I suppose that can be chalked up to the company you keep.
[ he could never imagine stereotypical nice kids like jude or leia sitting down at a bar like this. but then, they'd probably never had any real sorrows to drown. not like him or julius, or even her. ]
no subject
the fact he's acting like nothing happened between them is aggravating (if he had reminded her of their flirting, though, she'd just be mad. so there's no winning).
when milla turns her gaze away, she speaks, her words taut. ]
And I thought you'd be the one to push people to drink, not drinking yourself. [ not that she'd thought rideaux is completely free of problems, but it isn't like she gave it much thought. unlike those do-gooders he's thinking of—her company—she can't quite say she cares. ] In case you didn't figure it out already, I'm not like them.
[ not that she's angsting about that at the moment, it's just a fact. ]
no subject
There's no rule that says I can't be both.
[ even excluding her, he's well aware that he's driven plenty of his subordinates at spirius to drink, and probably worse. he'll never apologize for that, though; he may be demanding, but his team is more effective than anyone else's because of it.
he takes another sip as he looks her over. obviously there are differences he can appreciate, but he's a little curious what she thinks those differences are. ]
And what do you think sets you apart from them?
no subject
when milla's drink comes—a bloody mary, vodka and tomato she needs it—she's not sure whether she's completely lost her desire to partake in anything due to this meeting, or if it makes her want to guzzle the whole thing down. ]
Since when do you care what I think?
[ it's the first thing that comes to mind, flat and honest.
but despite her reflex that makes her respond with immediate aloof bitterness, the way her lips press together and the way she looks at her glass seems to imply she's at least considering a response (not that she needs to, she has a laundry list of Reasons why she's not completely one with their shiny jrpg party). it comes a brief moment later, a quiet afterthought. ]
... I'm considering running through you with my sword, for one.
[ but she won't.
though she's obviously not shy about that having crossed her mind. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
text. - three days after the Interlude
It's not an emergency, so just let me know when you're around, all right?
sorry was waiting for the wrap-up in case he ended up dying too lmao
Unless you're expecting me to make a house call, I'm available.
no worries!
Nah, I'll make my own way over. What's the address?
no subject
aaand insert address here. ]
I'll be expecting you soon, then.
no subject
Got it! I'll give ya a shout if I get lost.
[Fortunately he doesn't actually get lost, because a little while after the exchange, there's a knock at Rideaux's apartment.]
no subject
he fucking hates this, and looking back, it's a wonder he managed to spend so much time on them as a child without wanting to break everything in the room out of frustration. he'd been used to it, he supposes, and having never had normal physical capabilities at the time, he hadn't really grasped how much easier it was for everyone else.
finally opening the door, he moves back out of the way as best he can to let raven inside. ]
Welcome. [ it's not actually said in the most welcoming tone, but hey, it's a greeting. ] If you don't mind closing the door behind you.
no subject
Guess this is why I'm makin' the house call instead of the other way around, huh?
[He offers a wry smile and passes Rideaux, looking around. He seems like the kind of guy who would appreciate dark humour a little more than fussing or concern, which suits Raven just fine.]
Pretty snazzy place ya got here.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
i'm glad i'm the kind of tales garbage that immediately knows whose doujin that icon is from
i'm a filthy tales novice and actually have no idea, I didn't make the icon pfft
lmfao WELL it's by amarans who does some good stuff if you're into yaoi...
ahh gotcha! I haven't found many good resources for translated doujins yet, tbh
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
the date of his birth; gift. (aselia failed me.)
When she sees the note on the calendar. though, Pyrrha can't help herself. She spends a week putting small things together, doing her best to gauge his preferences while being aware not to embarrass him.
So, on the anniversary of his birth, he'll find a small card on his desk. With it, a bottle of red wine, neither extravagantly overpriced nor insultingly cheap, and a small tin of ginger snap cookies. The tin and the bottle are wrapped in velvet ribbons, not paper, but the ribbons purposely match the typical colour coordination of his more well-worn clothing.
The card is very austere, the front graphic generic and the manufactured message one of well wishes on a birthday. Below it, in neat handwriting, Pyrrha has left:
Many happy returns, Rideaux.
I hope you have a great year following.
Sincerely, Pyrrha.
And, rather unfortunately, below that, in thick sharpie:
Me too!!
JAUNE ARC
(we spoke on the phone)
(That last had not been her idea, but it had been too late to get him another card.) ]
lmao i made it up myself so you wouldn't find it anywhere don't worry
honestly, he really shouldn't even call it his birthday at all when it hasn't been a full 336 days since the last one he celebrated back in elympios; but it is the third day of the eleventh month by this world's calendar, and frankly it's less of a hassle to just go along with that than to keep track of counting the days.
so it's a small solace that he's not really quite thirty, but he's still not eager to publicize just how close he is to it. there is a significant line in between twenty-nine and thirty as far as he's concerned, and as someone who puts a great deal of importance on image, he doesn't want to be seen as being on the other side of that line.
beyond those technical and shallow complications, though, the fact is he's almost certainly not going to live to see another birthday in elympios if he goes back. his life had always been in a precarious enough position that each year -- even as a child -- he had briefly entertained the thought that this one could be his last, but it had never been such a real and imminent truth as it seems to be now. he's never been a remotely sentimental person, and has never wasted time on pointless introspection, but it would be a lie to say that this day wouldn't give him at least a moment's pause.
"a great year following"... that's a laugh. this gift on his desk is probably the last one he'll ever get.
he tucks the card back into its envelope and sets it back down when pyrrha is back in his line of sight. ]
Very thoughtful. Thank you.
I was like "what obscure canon materials are escaping me"
Truthfully, she's glad he had appreciated it. Not that she had done it for the praise, but a poorly received gesture could have made her work day (or work week!) a lot more stressful. When he speaks up, she looks over. As ever, he's inscrutable.
Pyrrha chooses to take his words at face value. ]
You're welcome.
[ For a moment, she opts to divide her attention equally between her task and this conversation. ]
Do you have anything fun planned for celebration?