dreamcrystals | XX2 Entry

Entry tags:

XX2 Entry

Sender: Beatrix
To: All
Subject: No Rest for the Weary

It would appear that I have been indisposed, though that seems to have been rectified. If for any reason, you have been seeking me, I can now properly attend to matters that were not appropriately handled before said indisposition.

That said, please refrain from entering my personal space and leaving books, regardless of the quality of reading material. Furthermore, please refrain from entering my personal space, period.

I had, prior to my temporary condition, been discussing how to better provide a defence for the town proper. As more dream walkers find themselves in this world, not only do we grow in population count, we also grow in the evolution of the town. The market, beings who are not exactly dream walkers like ourselves, yet present all the same, farming land, the coliseum in disrepair, and our other outskirts.

I would like to know if it is possible to create a defensive ward to otherwise protect Reverein citizens from potential outside threats by use of dreamotion in the establishment of wards. If we are capable of creating such things, it may also be possible to recycle or supply a consistent and constant flow of dreamotion in an effort to power said wards or barriers.

For some time, I have contemplated the ability to, for lack of a better term, 'bottle' dreamotion for later usage. If you have any experience in such matters, I implore you to share your results.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She's inclined to agree with that. A boon and a curse in one. The persistence is brazen and refreshing. She is accustomed to cowards who would flee from her in the face of who and what she is. She is accustomed to whispers surrounding her name and her reputation. She is accustomed to many assuming she is simply a brutal and unkind woman, so much so that she has simply come to accept that portrayal of herself.

Why be anything than what others think she is? What harm is there in playing a part if she can play it well?

Dohalim continues and in her slow pacing, Beatrix lifts a hand and haughtily flicks back a curl of chestnut brown behind her shoulder.]

My feelings on the matter. [She parrots him when she has the opportunity to.] I was under the impression I made my feelings clear enough. You know what I think of you, after all. [Unless he's referring to... The Other Thing, which she has been content enough to ignore. Her feelings on that...?]

Perhaps you mean my slumber. It would be difficult for me to have feelings on something I did not consciously experience. I also would not be able to assess you, given I do not have something to compare it to.

You have, to a point.

[He can concede that much. She has made her feelings clear, or rather what he believes she thinks her feelings ought to be. If there is truly nothing more to this situation, if he is wrong and has misread things, he can accept that well enough— but he does not believe her to be honest with herself about what she might feel or want, regardless of his involvement.

He shakes his head as she expands on the incident, shaking his head.]

That, however, is not what I meant. I overstepped, and I have no intention of romanticizing such a thing.

[It had brought certain thoughts and feelings to light, enough for him to give them serious consideration, but it was still an error, a disservice to the woman in question.]

Rather I hope you will take some time to consider what you actually want for yourself here— much of what you have 'made clear' has been what you think you should want, or what you seem to think you 'deserve'— or don't, depending. Regardless of my own involvement, I do believe that is worth some self-examination.

[If she were younger, less disciplined, and petulant she could easily imagine a groan of disdain escaping her. Self-examination. As if she has not done that enough. She supposes he doesn't mean it quite the way she executes just such a thing, however. Beatrix is an unforgiving woman, with herself most of all. That is clear as day, really, for those who know her closely.

She can't help but wonder.

What does she want for herself? Anything? Has she ever wanted anything? She can't remember a time in which she did, really. It's always been a matter of answering to those above her. Serving a greater cause than herself. And she's been convinced that such a thing is already more than she deserves.

How does she begin figuring out anything beyond that when she's never had a direction to go in? She fears her expression betrays her.]

What a lofty hope you hold. [Beatrix begins, drawing in a breath to consider before she should continue.] It would be nice to be a normal woman, I think. Not a military general. Not a guardian to a princess, though I love the royal family dearly with all of my heart. [And that she can admit.] I do not know how to be a normal woman. How to want the things a normal woman would want. When I am around you, I realise I never wanted things before. In the days here... I can say with certainty I want to fight you a lot.

[She smiles then. Just a touch because only she really understands what she's saying with such a statement.]

Not to harm you. But because when we fight together, I feel alive. And when we fight together, I want to be close to you.

Edited (brain is faster than my fingers!) 2022-07-05 06:47 (UTC)

[There is a long moment of silence as her answer sinks in; he thinks back to their spar and how it had sent his own blood humming, how alive he had felt in the process, the adrenaline that had driven him forward, and he thinks he understands. For her, combat is a language all its own, and when he at last finds himself prepared to respond, he laughs, warmly and openly.]

I believe that to be quite the compliment.

[There is sentiment behind that desire.

I want to be close to you.]

That can certainly be arranged. I did promise you another match, did I not? I quite enjoyed it, myself.

[He offers her a patient smile. He knows not if she'll be able to bring herself to say more, but what she has already confessed is a great deal all on its own.]

I wonder how you would feel if we were to find the opportunity to fight alongside one another, instead.

[Her initial instinct is to refuse. To claim that she meant it not as a compliment. Yet she knows that's not the truth. It is a compliment, presented in a very Beatrix fashion. Nothing too overt, but in a way, telling.]

That was the agreement, yes.

[Beatrix dips her chin in a subtle acknowledgement. He bested her the first time, and that is a thing she has never forgotten. A part of her has thirsted for triumph. For the opportunity to put her sword against his staff once more. That feeling she had the first time. A worth adversary. A worthy challenge.

As he continues, she eyes him with just a touch of curiosity.]

I suppose I am capable of cooperating with others. I have always preferred to avoid such, if I could. With another at my side, I must consider that they may hinder my progress. I... may be convinced to consider you an exception. You would not feel more livened by our competition?

[She can hardly think of anything more romantic.]

I believe I would feel livened by a bit of both. There is something to be said for direct competition, but cooperation allows us to compare our strengths in a different way. Besides— you have expressed a desire to protect me in the past. I know it is not your way to allow it, but I would do the same.

[He would take pleasure in being her partner as well as her opponent, depending on the situation. There is certainly merit in both.

His smile pulls wider, and he drops his head slightly to one side.]

I believe I proved I would be an asset rather than a hindrance during that duel of ours.

[Yes, of course. She knows he wants to protect her in turn. Does she need protecting, though? Probably not. If she did, it would be from herself most likely. Instead of outright shutting him down, which she knows she ordinarily would do, she simply listens and nods along.

He has a point. There is nothing quite like realising she can trust someone to have her back. She's not sure she's ever felt that way before.]

Well. I suppose you did, yes. I am not accustomed to depending on another. That is a luxury that has not been afforded to me. [Beatrix tilts her head with some consideration and she looses a sigh. It's a little concession and resignation. Acknowledgement that she can at least afford to try to be nicer.] Should such opportunities present themselves to us then I shall take that into consideration.

[Surely that should suffice for now.]

I think this one is Tifa's.

[Although, there's dog things. Does Tifa have a dog? The only person she knows who does is Eustace. Which...

Well. Maybe they're...

Beatrix suddenly looks incredibly pensive.]

[It is far more of a concession than he might have expected, his pleasant surprise apparent on his face as they continue on their way— she has not changed her point of view, he thinks, only very slightly softened her edges without ridding herself of them entirely, and he thinks it suits her. She would not be Beatrix without them.]

I am glad to hear it— and can ask you for nothing more.

[He will gladly take that consideration. It means a great deal, he knows.

He slows his pace as she adopts a pensive expression, following suit by furrowing his brow slightly. He wouldn't know whether or not this is Tifa's house, but...]

Is something wrong?

Well. No, not exactly.

[There's nothing wrong at all, in fact. That is, there's nothing wrong if Eustace and Tifa are sharing space. Or Eustace has come to visit her. Or it may be the reverse. Why she's thinking about it so hard is beyond her. It's none of her business. She has no place to be poking her nose into things.

...

She would not have imagined Eustace with a soft spot. What kind of man is Eustace when he's not being broody and serious? Or seriously antagonistic? Beatrix shakes her head slowly. Definitely better just to leave the parcel and scram afterwards. Just in case they happen upon something they ought not to.]

I was just puzzled for some moments. Second-guessing whether this was the right place or not. But I suspect I am right. If not, then the recipient will get it to where it needs to go.

[In the event that it's Eustace's place, she can trust he'll pass something along to someone else he knows.]

In this, I am afraid I have no insight to offer. While Tifa and I are loosely acquainted, I have not yet had cause to visit her at her home.

[Nor does he think the opportunity is to arise anytime soon; even if he does assist her with staff training, there are far better places to do it.]

Regardless, I am confident the recipient will do the decent thing and pass it along if you are mistaken, as you say— but I would trust your instincts.

[She didn't get to where she is by lacking in those.]

Neither have I.

[With that said, Beatrix begins to make her way up the steps to the treehouse entrance, still slowly enough that she can carry on conversation with current company.]

I am pleased to hear that you two have crossed paths. Tifa had spoken with me about weapons training and I advised her to seek you out.

[It was actually a very specific conversation with Tifa holding a very specific desire to learn how to wield a staff. Dohalim was an obvious choice.]

What do you think of her?

[She looks back over her shoulder to him curiously. Beatrix is fond of her, personally. Tifa is kind and endearing. Good company. A friend, though she knows that kind of word is a difficult one for her to use.]

[He follows along fairly closely, though gives her space as she heads up the short flight of steps, pausing at the foot with his hand coming to rest against the railing.]

She had mentioned that you had passed my name along.

[His smile pulls just a touch to one side; Tifa had told him that Beatrix had spoken of him, but there's still a degree of satisfaction in hearing Beatrix say as much herself.

He adopts a thoughtful expression as he considers his answer, though it doesn't take very long.]

I enjoyed her company very much. We found ourselves in a difficult situation, and she showed herself to be both resourceful and quick on her feet, as well as companionable. I should like to get to know her better.

[Whatever Beatrix hopes to get out of his response seems to satisfy her. As he answers, explains, and clarifies, her expression is even, just a touch of curiosity lingering in the way she holds her mouth. As if she might have another question in backup, though she doesn't bother to share it. Perhaps that means there was nothing there to begin with.

Instead, Beatrix dips her chin in a slow and understanding nod before she finishes closing the distance between doorway and where she paused. Leaving Tifa's parcel carefully propped up against the door, she turns to rejoin Dohalim, holding herself just a step or two from where he's rooted himself in patient wait.]

I agree. [She begins.] She is resourceful. Very... kind. Thoughtful. Generous.

[As she motions toward Dohalim, Beatrix continues.] I think the two of you will get along very well. I doubt I need to say, but please do not tell her what you told me today. It is not that I am ashamed or embarrassed by you. [It's more that she's embarrassed of herself.] I... may tell her about it in time. When and if I feel that I can.

[He regards her with interest before nodding in confirmation, understanding. It is quite curious, he thinks, that she makes such a request; not because he is the sort to share such information to begin with, but that she asks for it to be kept private means that it holds enough significance that she does not want it brought to light.]

I would not dream of sharing such with anyone but yourself.

[It is between them, and them alone. Her request will be an easy one to honor.]

I shall not breathe a word.

[It is not that she thinks he would offer such information freely. It is that she understands at some point, he may feel he needs guidance on his feelings, though she doesn't know the true or fully nature of them and dares not ask. Guidance... to seek it is not a crime. But some eyes, like Eustace's, are observant and may put pieces together.

It's ever a selfish request. Not the first one she is like to make.

She studies him for some moments and eventually nods. Beatrix will be holding him to that.]

I appreciate that. [Drawing in a breath, she takes just a moment to assess all she has learned on this day and whatever direction that may have pointed things. It's certainly not what she expected.] My deliveries are done. I believe that is what you were accompanying me for, yes?

[It sounds like she's trying to get rid of him, but that's not the truth of it. It is simply an unspoken confession that Beatrix does not know how to spend time with someone when she's not trying to associate it with something work-related.]

To start with.

[He smiles again; he had insisted on accompanying her because his desire to talk about what had transpired while she was gone had been too urgent to wait, but also simply because he wanted to see her.

If she was not eager to be rid of his company, then he was not eager to part ways, himself. He gestures vaguely in the direction of the center of town; with her having been gone so long, he would like the opportunity to spend more time with her if she'll allow, but he understands that is something of a foreign concept to her.]

Perhaps we could celebrate your return with some tea? Nothing overly extravagant, I assure you, but a short while to relax before you set to keeping yourself busy once more.

[He's sure she'll waste no time with that.]

[...To start with?

It is relatively easy to come to the realisation that he'd specifically asked for her because of the whole... Thing that took place when she was sleeping. Yet as she plays back everything else, the rest is perhaps predictable. He missed her. The Thing was not purely because of storybook motives.

When he continues, makes his offer, she watches him for several moments. In a way, it's perfect. She likes tea and she can count on a multitude of times the number of times she and Garnet have sat down for such things when such moments were afforded to them.]

I can agree to that.

[It sounds very rigid coming from her, as most things do. Clearing her throat, she lifts a hand to draw some of her hair behind her ear, issuing him a nod.]

I do not think I have had tea here yet that I have not made myself. Back home, the attendants of the royal family generally did such things. In many ways, coming here I have learned that I must be much more self sufficient. It is as if things have returned to what they before I served Her Majesty.

You have not yet sampled what the tea faeries have to offer?

[He looks only mildly surprised; it makes sense that she would take steps to be as self-sufficient as possible, and as surprises go, it's a pleasant one: it means he has the opportunity to treat her to something new.]

I've done much the same, as far as making my own— despite having palace staff in Viscint, I often handled my own tea as a meditation of sorts, but I have found the offerings at Dreambucks to be quite pleasing.

[And often with pleasant side-effects, depending on what you order.]

The faeries put together an excellent tea service. There are pastries, as well, if you're so inclined. I certainly am.

I have not.

[Her response is simple and straight forward though she can only contemplate as he continues. The more he says, the more he continues, the more she feels like she may have agreed to something that is more than just tea.

She looks over to him for several long moments with consideration. Pastries. Tea and pastries. She wonders for just a moment if he really is innocent of looking through her things. She's fond of both of those things. How else would he know that? An... innocent guess?]

This is beginning to sound like... a courtship, Dohalim. Is that intentional?

[Is it intentional? He has to ask himself, as well— but he has had tea and pastries with friends countless times in the past, for the simple fact that he enjoys them and finds tea to be a pleasant setting for conversation. It’s not so uncommon a request, is it?

Regardless of how he is attempting to process his own feelings regarding their friendship, or whatever it may be, he does not wish to make her feel uncomfortable.

He shakes his head after a moment. While he would not be opposed to calling it courtship, he cannot help but think that might be a bit much for her at this moment in time.]

It is simply tea between two friends, and need be nothing more unless you wish it to be. I find the faerie’s tea shop to be a pleasant place to pass time, and quite enjoy their pastry offerings. I only wish to share them with you in the interest of showing you a little something new— consider it a formal ‘welcome back,’ if you will.

[As she stares him down during his explanation, eventually it paves the way for her to nod slowly. She seems willing to accept his explanation, though inevitably, a part of her questions if she can believe him. Dohalim is a cunning man and she knows that. He could fool her, if she let him.

Has she grown soft enough to permit that? She'll have sleepless nights for a few days at least trying to get to the bottom of that.]

I can accept that. A formal 'welcome back.'

[Not something she would expect, but not something that displeases her either.]

I did already agree to it. I suppose some time to do something other than work may be beneficial. Oft enough I occupy myself that I can sometimes neglect to provide myself spare time.

[...Maybe she should make more of that and use it for reading. Or something that is unrelated to swinging her sword.]

[There is, perhaps, the possibility that he is being duplicitous in the most well-intentioned way imaginable— while he does not wish for her to agree to anything she does not want to do, some part of him is well aware of the fact that this is not strictly an act of friendship, even if he feels saying so aloud will help him to believe it.

There are worse things to be dishonest about, he supposes, and in the end, the result is the same. He would like to welcome her back to Reverein properly, and to spend just a little more time together, if she'll allow it. Surely, that is no crime.]

I agree, this will certainly be to your benefit— while I admire just how dedicated you are to your work and maintaining your skills, it would not hurt you to slow down here and there.

[He pauses for a moment before offering his arm, hesitant— it is purely optional, but he does not know if even the offer might be taken as offensive.]

Shall we?

I am not particularly good at 'slowing down,' as it were.

[Which would come to the surprise of absolutely no one who remotely knows her. She's well aware of it. She works to keep herself busy, in a fruitless attempt to avoid thinking. It never really works. She's always thinking. Can't shut off that inner voice that reminds her of where her priorities ought to be. Even in Alexandria it's like that. She doesn't doubt it's, in part, how she's come to be the person she is today.

At the offer of his arm, she simply stares at him, perhaps a touch perplexed by it. If it weren't some attempt at courting her, he wouldn't dare do that. They've walked together more than once and in none of those other times has he made such an offer. On the contrary, he's understood to keep his distance.

He plants one kiss on her in her sleep and suddenly, he is so very brave. Fine. She'll humour him. He'll change his mind. He has to. Eventually. Feelings can be such fickle things. With thought and consideration, she thinks to the way she's seen nobles in court walk with one another and in a rather rigid fashion, she coils her arm about his. It's still professional. It's still very her in nature.]

When you are ready.

[She'll concede.]

[He is, of course, not surprise in the least.]

Perhaps I can help you to learn, if you are willing to do so— but I know it may be difficult. I would be happy to help you see the appeal.

[He almost retracts his arm during that long pause, wondering if it had been too much, but he subtly releases a breath he had not realized he'd been holding when she relents.

It does not have to mean anything, he tells himself. It is polite. Courtly. A remnant of who he once was, but proof that he has not forgotten his manners from his days on Lenegis. When one means to escort a lady somewhere, there are proper niceties to be considered. That is all.

As such, their linking of arms is polite and professional, rather than overly familiar, but some part of him still feels it is a step forward— however small.]

With pleasure.

[He begins to lead her towards the town's center at an easy pace. Strides have been made this day, he is certain, though towards exactly what, it is hard to tell.]

You should not make too many expectations of me. [She begins somewhat quietly.] If you do, you will only find disappointment.

[Beatrix can only be who she is. What she is. She thinks about that a lot, perhaps more so in his company and those like him, than with others. She lets him lead, which is almost uncharacteristic of her, but given what she's learned and the things he's given her to think about, maybe that's not a surprise either. She needs time to go over things in her own way. This is not a time of war. There is no immediate battle to distract her. Only the implications in Dohalim's words that sit upon her shoulders, weighted and real.

Her chin dips thoughtfully. She's never liked noble outings. Galas. Parties. Those that require her to speak of matters not pertaining to country and kingdom, to her people.

It occurs to her that she doesn't know how to have small talk with someone. At least not very well.]

That said, others have reminded me I ought not to obsess over my work. Not in those words, but they express their own sort of concern. I do not like others having concern for me.

XX2 Entry

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tying this one off so we can progress to BIRD ATTACK and feelings