(no subject)
Who: Velvet Lyon (Scheherazade), Cygna Jones (Swan Sister)
What: Velvet is sulking.
When: After this.
Where: Their apartment.
Rating: G, because Cygna and Vel are about the fluffiest things ever.
VELVET: Velvet had written her last comment on Murdock's ridiculous Arabic-pride entry just before the train pulled into her stop. The whole walk home she mulled it over and over in her head, a dark cloud growing over her demeanor as she stepped briskly, ignoring passers-by, lost in her own thoughts. All the way to her apartment entrance her fingers clenched, knuckles white, around the book, firmly forbidding herself to stop in the sidewalk and double-check his wording. At the door, she went through the familiar motions - keys, locks, knobs. Up a flight of stairs, and then more locks, more keys and finally, she entered the apartment. Shoes were kicked off at the threshold, but she didn't bother to take off her coat, or call a greeting to her roommate. Instead, she marched straight into the tiny little kitchen and practically threw herself into the chair at the same time as her bag dropped to the floor and her Compendium slammed on the table. And there she sat, staring hard at the book, expression inscrutable to anyone who didn't know her well.
CYGNA: There was no avoiding the sound of the slamming doors, the heavy steps, and violent little shoe-tosses. It may not have been a temper tantrum by other people's standards, but it was enough for Cygna to pop her head out of the bathroom door and call out through the apartment.
"Vel? Are you home?"
VELVET: There was no answer. This was not necessarily out of uncharacteristic petulance; Velvet may have not even heard Cygna, she was just so... perturbed by Alex's uncouth behaviour.
CYGNA: Well, there was nothing to it. Her bare feet tripping into slippers and then sidling out into the open, a bathrobed Cygna turned the corner of the hallway and came sauntering into the kitchen, towelling her hair ferociously. No matter how clean the theatre was, afternoon meetings still meant digging through musty costume drawers, and this particular stage assistant liked getting rid of all the dust afterwards.
"Hi, rêveuse," the woman said, her French accent sloppy but her expression wry, even as she entered Velvet's personal space and settled down at her own half of the kitchen table.
VELVET: "...hi," Velvet returned, delayed, a moment of thin-set lips and narrow eyes passing before she looked up at Cygna, flashing a wan smile, and then returning her dark stare to the book that lay on the table. She offered nothing more, but she shifted in her chair, uncomfortable in the robe of silence she'd wrapped around herself. One hand held the edge of her seat, and her fingers began to drum softly, irritably along the edge.
CYGNA: Her voice was light, and balanced with polite inquiry -- "A penny for your thoughts?"
VELVET: The dam of protestations, hurt, and indignation held at her tongue broke. "I apologized! I apologized, and he was still an ass, and I didn't make a big deal out of it Cygna! I just let him make his snide little comments, because I was apologizing." The flood of words stopped suddenly, as her voice broke. Biting down on her lip, she leaned forward suddenly, flipping the book open and going through the pages until she found the offending comments. "I mean, what is his problem, Cygna?" she demanded, gesturing with a great deal of frustration at the pages, "What is the POINT of reminding Murdock that we had children in the Tale? He's so infantile!"
CYGNA: Velvet's angrily jabbed fingers drew Cygna's attention to the pages, and she paused to peer out from under the curtain of a lopsided towel turban and mussed, wet hair. She glanced down at the scribbled words and skimmed them for a moment, even as a few inoffensive drops of water dripped into the book. On the one hand: sympathy anger! On the other hand, Cygna couldn't suppress a little laugh.
"Men. I think it's probably a kingly thing. You know, us being theirs and all." It was a particular brand of tale nonsense, and Cyg's tone all but said so.
VELVET: "It's not even that!" Velvet said, her own tone losing forcefulness halfway through the utterance. "'Not necessary, but pleasurable.' That's under a lock, that's not macho posturing, that's at me, le connard. And this little 'Frenchy' comment, why won't he let it go?" She rocked back in her seat, shifting the chair across the floor, arms crossing, lips pressing together again before repeated, quietly, "I. Apologized."
CYGNA: She couldn't help another little grin, before temporarily disappearing behind the towel again. A muffled voice emerged. "And I know how hard it is for you to apologise, especially when it comes to him." Towel, dry, shake, wash rinse repeat. "He said it's pleasurable. Maybe he just, um, gets a kick out of bothering you. Like a boy pulling pigtails in kindergarten."
VELVET: "Cygna," Velvet said reproachfully, glancing up at her roommate and looking quite put out. "He's never been this way! It's always been, 'Oh, other girls are idiotic vessels for my entertainment, but not you, I have to protect you'," her imitation of Alex was not particularly good, it must be said, "Which is ridiculous in itself, I mean, that's what I was protesting to begin with, and I shouldn't have lost my temper, but this isn't... this isn't fair." Her voice got very small, partly because she was so utterly perplexed by Alex's behavior, and partly because she knew her original comment wasn't particularly fair, either.
CYGNA: Cygna reappeared with a sudden jerk, and then leaned forward, elbows on the table and blue eyes surveying her roommate with intensely grave concern. Her tone was all loaded with mock-sombreness, more than a bit over-the-top but also just a bit serious: "Velvet Lyon. Does this mean you're possibly saying that you miss that special treatment?"
VELVET: "No!" Velvet said, immediately, her eyes going wide. "But it was better than this! Why does it have to be 'misogynistic jerk' or 'chivalrous jerk'? Can't there be some middle ground of decency?" Of course, once those words were out of her mouth, she immediately regretted them, and her chagrin showed. She knew, of course, through the years of their timid friendship of sorts, that Alex wasn't really utterly lacking in decency. But she made no remark to the contrary, though the pink tinge in her cheeks belied her.
CYGNA: "You're very upset," the other woman said, after a pause. It was stating the obvious, of course, but she said the fact as if she were mulling the words over, and considering their full implications. Finally, she draped the towel over the edge of her chair and trudged over to the kitchen cupboards. She was starting to feel that age-old twitch of restless energy again, and needed things to do with her hands. Velvet was looking awkward enough, with a flush of red in her cheeks.
"Um. Maybe he's actually mad at you. You know, I mean, you apologised, but maybe he's still angry about the bringing up of the tale and all."
VELVET: "Earl Grey," Velvet said, almost absently, when Cygna went on the familiar trajectory towards the cupboards.
She picked up the book again, frowning at the words. "So he has to go and make more references to the Tale? Ah, yes, very mature," she said, softly sarcastic. New text appeared, and her brow furrowed. "Oh, no, Murdock's getting involved."
CYGNA: Another laugh, dry this time. She wasn't exactly surprised -- Alex and Murdock butting heads was something they had grown used to, and in Cygna's opinion, should probably have grown to anticipate. "What's going on?"
VELVET: There was a pause; Velvet was reading the words as they appeared, her shoulders sagging. "Murdock told Alex to take it back, and now that he shouldn't make lewd comments, as I'm the Librarian, which is a very good point, thank you, and Alex is just standing by 'it's the story, it's true', etcetera..." she sighed, aggravated, and leaned down to start rummaging for a pen in her bag.
CYGNA: The kettle clattered with water as she dumped it on the stove, before flicking the switch and turning back towards the table. Cygna didn't exactly cut an imposing figure, but she did her best, standing above Velvet and the book with an expression of considerable skepticism. Unfortunately, the bathrobe probably interfered with her attempt to look matriarchal and domineering. Oh well.
"Compendium arguments can go on forever, Vel," she said pointedly. Text in the journals had a tendency to snowball and avalanche and spiral wildly out of control. She knew this. And she knew Velvet knew this; the librarians, more than others, were well-versed in the shortcomings of their magical system. Cygna was all but prepared to pounce on her roommate's pen and pry it out of her clenched fingers, if that was what it took to stymie an argument between modern-day Scheherazade and her king.
VELVET: "Exactly," Velvet replied, emerging grimly triumphant with an oft-chewed upon ballpoint. "Murdock, at least, listens to me." It wasn't her argument she was trying to stop - placing her pen after Alex's latest reply to Murdock, she wrote, with careful, Librarian-like penmanship, pressing harder on the second word, pausing, and underlining for emphasis. Cygna could plainly see what she wrote on the page. It didn't take long for Murdock's indignant cross-out and acquiescence to appear after that.
Velvet looked up at her roommate - she didn't really want to invite her wrath, comical though it might have been, and so only looked at the last thing Alex wrote one last time before sighing, putting down the pen, and closing the book. "What does he want me to do? Apologize again? Humiliate myself in public?" The solution was beyond her; she shook her head, and sighed again.
CYGNA: Cygna shrugged. If the solution was beyond Velvet's comprehension, well, a woman another degree removed stood even less of a chance -- "I think that's just another one of the mysteries of life, hon."
VELVET: "Time, I suppose," she said, almost defeatedly - that's what it always came down to, Time. Always; but, she shrugged off the memories of stories and lives before this one. They fell away, and she leaned forward again, folding her arms on the table and resting her head there, gaze focused on the teapot as though willing it to boil faster.
She was quiet, for a good while, before she made a small face and remarked, "I've got another paper to write. And about two hundred pages of reading."
CYGNA: "And I've got to get dressed, and I was planning on popping over to the Frogging Pond afterwards. They're open until midnight today." A watched pot never boils, but proverbs were made to be broken, so the kettle decided at that moment to whistle -- Cygna took charge of it and the tea-making like an ancient time-honoured ritual, her hands knowing what to do before she did it. Hot beverages ran the equivalent of emotional pillows in this apartment.
"Want to come over and join us, once you've done a bit of your reading?"
VELVET: "I might," Velvet said, not committing, for the work she left aside these days in order to deal with Atheneum stuff really had piled up, quite unfortunately. "Especially if they're open that late." When tea was delivered to the side of her elbow, she unfolded and straightened again, taking the mug into her hands and smiling up at her roommate. "Thanks, Cyg." Not just for the tea, but, well, that went unsaid.
What: Velvet is sulking.
When: After this.
Where: Their apartment.
Rating: G, because Cygna and Vel are about the fluffiest things ever.
VELVET: Velvet had written her last comment on Murdock's ridiculous Arabic-pride entry just before the train pulled into her stop. The whole walk home she mulled it over and over in her head, a dark cloud growing over her demeanor as she stepped briskly, ignoring passers-by, lost in her own thoughts. All the way to her apartment entrance her fingers clenched, knuckles white, around the book, firmly forbidding herself to stop in the sidewalk and double-check his wording. At the door, she went through the familiar motions - keys, locks, knobs. Up a flight of stairs, and then more locks, more keys and finally, she entered the apartment. Shoes were kicked off at the threshold, but she didn't bother to take off her coat, or call a greeting to her roommate. Instead, she marched straight into the tiny little kitchen and practically threw herself into the chair at the same time as her bag dropped to the floor and her Compendium slammed on the table. And there she sat, staring hard at the book, expression inscrutable to anyone who didn't know her well.
CYGNA: There was no avoiding the sound of the slamming doors, the heavy steps, and violent little shoe-tosses. It may not have been a temper tantrum by other people's standards, but it was enough for Cygna to pop her head out of the bathroom door and call out through the apartment.
"Vel? Are you home?"
VELVET: There was no answer. This was not necessarily out of uncharacteristic petulance; Velvet may have not even heard Cygna, she was just so... perturbed by Alex's uncouth behaviour.
CYGNA: Well, there was nothing to it. Her bare feet tripping into slippers and then sidling out into the open, a bathrobed Cygna turned the corner of the hallway and came sauntering into the kitchen, towelling her hair ferociously. No matter how clean the theatre was, afternoon meetings still meant digging through musty costume drawers, and this particular stage assistant liked getting rid of all the dust afterwards.
"Hi, rêveuse," the woman said, her French accent sloppy but her expression wry, even as she entered Velvet's personal space and settled down at her own half of the kitchen table.
VELVET: "...hi," Velvet returned, delayed, a moment of thin-set lips and narrow eyes passing before she looked up at Cygna, flashing a wan smile, and then returning her dark stare to the book that lay on the table. She offered nothing more, but she shifted in her chair, uncomfortable in the robe of silence she'd wrapped around herself. One hand held the edge of her seat, and her fingers began to drum softly, irritably along the edge.
CYGNA: Her voice was light, and balanced with polite inquiry -- "A penny for your thoughts?"
VELVET: The dam of protestations, hurt, and indignation held at her tongue broke. "I apologized! I apologized, and he was still an ass, and I didn't make a big deal out of it Cygna! I just let him make his snide little comments, because I was apologizing." The flood of words stopped suddenly, as her voice broke. Biting down on her lip, she leaned forward suddenly, flipping the book open and going through the pages until she found the offending comments. "I mean, what is his problem, Cygna?" she demanded, gesturing with a great deal of frustration at the pages, "What is the POINT of reminding Murdock that we had children in the Tale? He's so infantile!"
CYGNA: Velvet's angrily jabbed fingers drew Cygna's attention to the pages, and she paused to peer out from under the curtain of a lopsided towel turban and mussed, wet hair. She glanced down at the scribbled words and skimmed them for a moment, even as a few inoffensive drops of water dripped into the book. On the one hand: sympathy anger! On the other hand, Cygna couldn't suppress a little laugh.
"Men. I think it's probably a kingly thing. You know, us being theirs and all." It was a particular brand of tale nonsense, and Cyg's tone all but said so.
VELVET: "It's not even that!" Velvet said, her own tone losing forcefulness halfway through the utterance. "'Not necessary, but pleasurable.' That's under a lock, that's not macho posturing, that's at me, le connard. And this little 'Frenchy' comment, why won't he let it go?" She rocked back in her seat, shifting the chair across the floor, arms crossing, lips pressing together again before repeated, quietly, "I. Apologized."
CYGNA: She couldn't help another little grin, before temporarily disappearing behind the towel again. A muffled voice emerged. "And I know how hard it is for you to apologise, especially when it comes to him." Towel, dry, shake, wash rinse repeat. "He said it's pleasurable. Maybe he just, um, gets a kick out of bothering you. Like a boy pulling pigtails in kindergarten."
VELVET: "Cygna," Velvet said reproachfully, glancing up at her roommate and looking quite put out. "He's never been this way! It's always been, 'Oh, other girls are idiotic vessels for my entertainment, but not you, I have to protect you'," her imitation of Alex was not particularly good, it must be said, "Which is ridiculous in itself, I mean, that's what I was protesting to begin with, and I shouldn't have lost my temper, but this isn't... this isn't fair." Her voice got very small, partly because she was so utterly perplexed by Alex's behavior, and partly because she knew her original comment wasn't particularly fair, either.
CYGNA: Cygna reappeared with a sudden jerk, and then leaned forward, elbows on the table and blue eyes surveying her roommate with intensely grave concern. Her tone was all loaded with mock-sombreness, more than a bit over-the-top but also just a bit serious: "Velvet Lyon. Does this mean you're possibly saying that you miss that special treatment?"
VELVET: "No!" Velvet said, immediately, her eyes going wide. "But it was better than this! Why does it have to be 'misogynistic jerk' or 'chivalrous jerk'? Can't there be some middle ground of decency?" Of course, once those words were out of her mouth, she immediately regretted them, and her chagrin showed. She knew, of course, through the years of their timid friendship of sorts, that Alex wasn't really utterly lacking in decency. But she made no remark to the contrary, though the pink tinge in her cheeks belied her.
CYGNA: "You're very upset," the other woman said, after a pause. It was stating the obvious, of course, but she said the fact as if she were mulling the words over, and considering their full implications. Finally, she draped the towel over the edge of her chair and trudged over to the kitchen cupboards. She was starting to feel that age-old twitch of restless energy again, and needed things to do with her hands. Velvet was looking awkward enough, with a flush of red in her cheeks.
"Um. Maybe he's actually mad at you. You know, I mean, you apologised, but maybe he's still angry about the bringing up of the tale and all."
VELVET: "Earl Grey," Velvet said, almost absently, when Cygna went on the familiar trajectory towards the cupboards.
She picked up the book again, frowning at the words. "So he has to go and make more references to the Tale? Ah, yes, very mature," she said, softly sarcastic. New text appeared, and her brow furrowed. "Oh, no, Murdock's getting involved."
CYGNA: Another laugh, dry this time. She wasn't exactly surprised -- Alex and Murdock butting heads was something they had grown used to, and in Cygna's opinion, should probably have grown to anticipate. "What's going on?"
VELVET: There was a pause; Velvet was reading the words as they appeared, her shoulders sagging. "Murdock told Alex to take it back, and now that he shouldn't make lewd comments, as I'm the Librarian, which is a very good point, thank you, and Alex is just standing by 'it's the story, it's true', etcetera..." she sighed, aggravated, and leaned down to start rummaging for a pen in her bag.
CYGNA: The kettle clattered with water as she dumped it on the stove, before flicking the switch and turning back towards the table. Cygna didn't exactly cut an imposing figure, but she did her best, standing above Velvet and the book with an expression of considerable skepticism. Unfortunately, the bathrobe probably interfered with her attempt to look matriarchal and domineering. Oh well.
"Compendium arguments can go on forever, Vel," she said pointedly. Text in the journals had a tendency to snowball and avalanche and spiral wildly out of control. She knew this. And she knew Velvet knew this; the librarians, more than others, were well-versed in the shortcomings of their magical system. Cygna was all but prepared to pounce on her roommate's pen and pry it out of her clenched fingers, if that was what it took to stymie an argument between modern-day Scheherazade and her king.
VELVET: "Exactly," Velvet replied, emerging grimly triumphant with an oft-chewed upon ballpoint. "Murdock, at least, listens to me." It wasn't her argument she was trying to stop - placing her pen after Alex's latest reply to Murdock, she wrote, with careful, Librarian-like penmanship, pressing harder on the second word, pausing, and underlining for emphasis. Cygna could plainly see what she wrote on the page. It didn't take long for Murdock's indignant cross-out and acquiescence to appear after that.
Velvet looked up at her roommate - she didn't really want to invite her wrath, comical though it might have been, and so only looked at the last thing Alex wrote one last time before sighing, putting down the pen, and closing the book. "What does he want me to do? Apologize again? Humiliate myself in public?" The solution was beyond her; she shook her head, and sighed again.
CYGNA: Cygna shrugged. If the solution was beyond Velvet's comprehension, well, a woman another degree removed stood even less of a chance -- "I think that's just another one of the mysteries of life, hon."
VELVET: "Time, I suppose," she said, almost defeatedly - that's what it always came down to, Time. Always; but, she shrugged off the memories of stories and lives before this one. They fell away, and she leaned forward again, folding her arms on the table and resting her head there, gaze focused on the teapot as though willing it to boil faster.
She was quiet, for a good while, before she made a small face and remarked, "I've got another paper to write. And about two hundred pages of reading."
CYGNA: "And I've got to get dressed, and I was planning on popping over to the Frogging Pond afterwards. They're open until midnight today." A watched pot never boils, but proverbs were made to be broken, so the kettle decided at that moment to whistle -- Cygna took charge of it and the tea-making like an ancient time-honoured ritual, her hands knowing what to do before she did it. Hot beverages ran the equivalent of emotional pillows in this apartment.
"Want to come over and join us, once you've done a bit of your reading?"
VELVET: "I might," Velvet said, not committing, for the work she left aside these days in order to deal with Atheneum stuff really had piled up, quite unfortunately. "Especially if they're open that late." When tea was delivered to the side of her elbow, she unfolded and straightened again, taking the mug into her hands and smiling up at her roommate. "Thanks, Cyg." Not just for the tea, but, well, that went unsaid.