[Log] That night.
Who: Laelle, R'en.
What: Two wallflowers go outside for some air, for some reminiscing.
Where: The bowl.
When: During the ball.
The bowl is starkly cool and dark and quiet in contrast to the flurry within the living cavern. Laelle gives a small shiver as her lace jacket offers no warmth whatsoever. She, however, resists drawing closer to the warm arm around hers. "Do you feel better?" she asks, as they move away from the light of the cavern tunnel.
She won't have to, for as soon as she shivers he notices through some hyper-sensitive sense and stops them to pull his arm away and start shrugging off his jacket. His nice jacket. It isn't until he's put it around her shoulders that he answers her. "Mmhm." And with a little smile, no less.
"I feel like we've been here before," Laelle says as he settled the huge jacket around her shoulders, arms crossed over her chest to hold it about her. And there is, perhaps, a small smile for that, too. "It seems like it was a long time ago."
Eyebrows lifted and his eyes shifting to the side, R'en considers then says, "Well." Turning, he puts his hands in his pockets if only to keep them warm and starts walking again. "Sorta was. Months ago, anyway. Time just... goes, sometimes. Too fast." He's quiet a moment before he says, "Sorta feel like I'm a different person entirely."
"I'm not," Laelle returns, her eyes down as they walk. "I didn't know you then," she adds. Her shoulders, drawn up against the cold, bring the jacket's collar alongside her cheeks and she dips her chin to hid her lips and breath in. "I don't know you now. I can't judge."
"You have t'know me?" It would be such a serious question if only he wasn't giving her a wry smile. She said something like that herself once. Coming close enough to nudge her with his elbow - she did that once too - he follows that up with, "I don't know you. We don't know us. Still."
"I just couldn't tell you if you've changed," Laelle clarifies, but his question and his nudge encourage her to smile a little in turn, a touch wry and perhaps even a touch wistful. Her eyes, however, stay on the ground. "And no. I don't have to know."
Brushing on past without so much as a glance back, R'en just says, "Good." At one point he looks up, at the night sky, and takes a deep breath in through his nose that makes his nostrils flare. He speaks again. "I really do love this place." His eyes move to a point way off in the distance only he can see. "Mountains, snow, nights so cold you can't sleep. Nights like these, too."
Laelle's gaze is drawn to him as his is cast upward into the night, watching his profile. "It..." she begins, then takes a glance aroun as if looking to see if she might be moved to such affection. "It has its charms. Someday you'll be able to go wherever you want," she adds. Her feet draw to a stop and she turns to face him.
When she stops he stops. It's as if they're connected through some mechanism that has them operating on the same basic functions. Except he doesn't turn. She'll continue to have his profile. "Wherever I want," he echoes softly. There's a vague grin for the idea. "Wouldn't mind seein' Boll. Knew someone... She was from Boll." Now he'll look at her, a sideways glance. "Nerat too." And away. "Maybe see a desert."
"It's brown," Laelle says. "The desert. It's just brown. People who live there claim it's all different shades of brown, but once you've lived some place green, variations of brown pale in comparison." She tilts her head towards the lights of the Caucus barracks, a change of direction. "Walk me home?"
"Well maybe I'll like brown first time." But R'en can only be petulant for as long as it takes to say that; next he's looking at what what she's angling towards. Adopting a very proper expression and dipping his own head, he says sure like so, "It would be an honor, my lady." Which is absurd, and he meant it to be, hoity toity tone of voice and all. So that way they go, in silence for now.
There's that smile again, small but entertained by his absurdity. They walk on in silence, Laelle not troubled to speak until they reach the glow of the barrack entrance. Here she stops and once again faces him. "Look at me," she tells him quietly.
If R'en can do anything right, it's absurd. He might catch a peek of that smile and smile a little himself, knowing he put it there. Small victories are important to someone who so often screws up. When they've stopped he looks up at the topmost arch of the entrance and takes a deep breath, prepared to say 'goodbye' or some such thing. Once interrupted, and commanded so gently, he does as she bids him, like always. Looking at her, he waits patiently.
"I don't think you need this any more," Laelle tells him, a hand lifting for his face, her fingers going for his mask, slipping it up and free. She doesn't give it back to him. Instead, her other hand comes up to smooth her fingers over an eyebrow made rumpled by an evening under the mask. "I had a nice time," she tells him, rather a polite and proper thing to say, but seemingly no less true. "Take your coat."
During this odd strangeness R'en is reduced to staring and doing just enough to maintain his balance. His eyes lift when the mask does, follow it when she takes it, lift again to her hand and, under her ministrations, that eyebrow twitches, trying to join with the other so he can furrow them at her like he does. Of course he reaches for the coat, sliding his hand in against her shoulder to lift it from her. Finally he finds his voice again, but only after clearing his throat first. "Uh. Good."
Laelle's laugh is more of a sharp breath, a jerk of her chest for his so-eloquent response. She turns to let him take the coat, shuddering involuntarily as the cool night air finds her skin through the flimsy lace. "Is that all?" she asks.
Is that all? He has to look at her a long time for that. There are so many things. After his eyes take a detour somewhere along the way of mapping out her facial features and find her mouth, he snaps them up to meet hers very quickly. "Get in quick. It's cold out here."
The moment his gaze slips to her mouth, her lips curl into a grin, sly and teasing and all the more so for the way he diverts his attention so quickly. "Have a good night, Jensen." And then Laelle disappears into the tunnel.
What: Two wallflowers go outside for some air, for some reminiscing.
Where: The bowl.
When: During the ball.
The bowl is starkly cool and dark and quiet in contrast to the flurry within the living cavern. Laelle gives a small shiver as her lace jacket offers no warmth whatsoever. She, however, resists drawing closer to the warm arm around hers. "Do you feel better?" she asks, as they move away from the light of the cavern tunnel.
She won't have to, for as soon as she shivers he notices through some hyper-sensitive sense and stops them to pull his arm away and start shrugging off his jacket. His nice jacket. It isn't until he's put it around her shoulders that he answers her. "Mmhm." And with a little smile, no less.
"I feel like we've been here before," Laelle says as he settled the huge jacket around her shoulders, arms crossed over her chest to hold it about her. And there is, perhaps, a small smile for that, too. "It seems like it was a long time ago."
Eyebrows lifted and his eyes shifting to the side, R'en considers then says, "Well." Turning, he puts his hands in his pockets if only to keep them warm and starts walking again. "Sorta was. Months ago, anyway. Time just... goes, sometimes. Too fast." He's quiet a moment before he says, "Sorta feel like I'm a different person entirely."
"I'm not," Laelle returns, her eyes down as they walk. "I didn't know you then," she adds. Her shoulders, drawn up against the cold, bring the jacket's collar alongside her cheeks and she dips her chin to hid her lips and breath in. "I don't know you now. I can't judge."
"You have t'know me?" It would be such a serious question if only he wasn't giving her a wry smile. She said something like that herself once. Coming close enough to nudge her with his elbow - she did that once too - he follows that up with, "I don't know you. We don't know us. Still."
"I just couldn't tell you if you've changed," Laelle clarifies, but his question and his nudge encourage her to smile a little in turn, a touch wry and perhaps even a touch wistful. Her eyes, however, stay on the ground. "And no. I don't have to know."
Brushing on past without so much as a glance back, R'en just says, "Good." At one point he looks up, at the night sky, and takes a deep breath in through his nose that makes his nostrils flare. He speaks again. "I really do love this place." His eyes move to a point way off in the distance only he can see. "Mountains, snow, nights so cold you can't sleep. Nights like these, too."
Laelle's gaze is drawn to him as his is cast upward into the night, watching his profile. "It..." she begins, then takes a glance aroun as if looking to see if she might be moved to such affection. "It has its charms. Someday you'll be able to go wherever you want," she adds. Her feet draw to a stop and she turns to face him.
When she stops he stops. It's as if they're connected through some mechanism that has them operating on the same basic functions. Except he doesn't turn. She'll continue to have his profile. "Wherever I want," he echoes softly. There's a vague grin for the idea. "Wouldn't mind seein' Boll. Knew someone... She was from Boll." Now he'll look at her, a sideways glance. "Nerat too." And away. "Maybe see a desert."
"It's brown," Laelle says. "The desert. It's just brown. People who live there claim it's all different shades of brown, but once you've lived some place green, variations of brown pale in comparison." She tilts her head towards the lights of the Caucus barracks, a change of direction. "Walk me home?"
"Well maybe I'll like brown first time." But R'en can only be petulant for as long as it takes to say that; next he's looking at what what she's angling towards. Adopting a very proper expression and dipping his own head, he says sure like so, "It would be an honor, my lady." Which is absurd, and he meant it to be, hoity toity tone of voice and all. So that way they go, in silence for now.
There's that smile again, small but entertained by his absurdity. They walk on in silence, Laelle not troubled to speak until they reach the glow of the barrack entrance. Here she stops and once again faces him. "Look at me," she tells him quietly.
If R'en can do anything right, it's absurd. He might catch a peek of that smile and smile a little himself, knowing he put it there. Small victories are important to someone who so often screws up. When they've stopped he looks up at the topmost arch of the entrance and takes a deep breath, prepared to say 'goodbye' or some such thing. Once interrupted, and commanded so gently, he does as she bids him, like always. Looking at her, he waits patiently.
"I don't think you need this any more," Laelle tells him, a hand lifting for his face, her fingers going for his mask, slipping it up and free. She doesn't give it back to him. Instead, her other hand comes up to smooth her fingers over an eyebrow made rumpled by an evening under the mask. "I had a nice time," she tells him, rather a polite and proper thing to say, but seemingly no less true. "Take your coat."
During this odd strangeness R'en is reduced to staring and doing just enough to maintain his balance. His eyes lift when the mask does, follow it when she takes it, lift again to her hand and, under her ministrations, that eyebrow twitches, trying to join with the other so he can furrow them at her like he does. Of course he reaches for the coat, sliding his hand in against her shoulder to lift it from her. Finally he finds his voice again, but only after clearing his throat first. "Uh. Good."
Laelle's laugh is more of a sharp breath, a jerk of her chest for his so-eloquent response. She turns to let him take the coat, shuddering involuntarily as the cool night air finds her skin through the flimsy lace. "Is that all?" she asks.
Is that all? He has to look at her a long time for that. There are so many things. After his eyes take a detour somewhere along the way of mapping out her facial features and find her mouth, he snaps them up to meet hers very quickly. "Get in quick. It's cold out here."
The moment his gaze slips to her mouth, her lips curl into a grin, sly and teasing and all the more so for the way he diverts his attention so quickly. "Have a good night, Jensen." And then Laelle disappears into the tunnel.