(Untitled)

[reallyaduck]

Duck's been snoring slightly on a table in the middle of the room, head pillowed on a piece of paper, when -

do you have the resolve, little duck?- she wakes up with a start, shaking her head to get the last wisps of weird half-memory out of her head

Comments

[fairytaleknight]

"A really great ballet," says the danseur looking over Duck's shoulder. "What creative commentary. I'm sure Neko-sensei will be impressed."

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir's pen blots on the paper, and he slams it down, staining the page.

"You think Kraehe is sad? She's evil and insane. Don't waste your pity."

[reallyaduck]

Duck used to think Fakir was evil and insane. Now she knows better!

She doesn't say that, though. Instead, she fidgets with the edge of the page, folding it up and then down again.

"You can be scary, and still be sad," she mutters.

[fairytaleknight]

"Why do you even care?"

Fakir leans forward, into Duck's space, as angry as she's ever seen him.

"Stay out of her way, and out of mine, and then maybe you'll live long enough to talk to people who are sad and not scary."

[reallyaduck]

. . . okay, so sometimes Fakir still acts kind of insane.

Duck shrinks backwards against her seat, and then rallies, squaring her shoulders and jutting her head forward. "Why - why do you have to be so mean like that?" she bursts out.

Why does he have to act that way when she just wants to help? That's not a bad thing!

- and anyway, he's the one who came over to talk to her so it's not like it's even fair!

[fairytaleknight]

"I'm not."

Fakir sits back down in his seat. He's still grim, although some of the edge is gone from his voice, and his face is relaxing into its usual scowl.

"But if you want to think so, I don't care."

[reallyaduck]

"I don't wanna think so!" Duck shouts, pushing herself to her feet. "I want us to work together! But you're always like, 'go away', 'don't talk to me', 'don't talk to Mytho!' I don't understand why you want to be alone!"

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir holds his ground. He is not afraid of a twelve-year-old girl, however righteous her rage may be!

"I want to cut down on the collateral damage."

(Fakir bets Duck doesn't know what collateral damage means, but it's too late. He's said it already.)

"I don't think you understand how dangerous Kraehe is, and you should get out of the whole business before you hurt yourself."

[reallyaduck]

(Possibly thirteen, Fakir!

Or possibly six months, depending on how you count.)

It will dawn on Duck in a few moments that Fakir might have just said he was worried about her. For right now . . . she's just mad. "I know that Kraehe's dangerous! But Pr-"

She has enough presence of mind to lower her voice hastily.

"Princess Tutu can deal with that, and - and if I didn't help, that would just make being Princess Tutu meaningless!"

And anyway - anyway, if Duck thinks about being scared . . . she's way more scared of what could happen to her from being Princess Tutu than of anything Kraehe can do.

Not that she's thinking about that. Because she's definitely not.

[fairytaleknight]

"That's not a good reason."

Fakir bends his head over the page, dips his pen back into his inkwell and scribbles a few more lines, scowling at the state of his quill.

Without looking up, or ceasing to write, or displaying any expression at all, Fakir says, "If Princess Tutu were injured by the raven princess, she would no longer be able to return the prince's heartshards."

[reallyaduck]

"What d'you care about that, you don't even want Mytho to have a heart," Duck mutters.

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir appears to be too engrossed in contrasting Odette with Odile to respond to this claim.

Presently he wipes the quill on a napkin, pulls out a pocketknife and begins to sharpen the point of the quill.

[reallyaduck]

"Well," Duck tells Fakir's fluffy bangs, "I don't care what you say - I'm not gonna give up! So you don't have to work with me if you don't want, but - but -"

Talking to Fakir's bangs is oddly unsatisfying.

[fairytaleknight]

"Good," Fakir says, blowing on his page to dry it, capping the inkwell and sliding all of his materials into his knapsack. "Because I'm not going to work with you."

When Fakir stands up, his fluffy bangs are no longer blocking his face. Duck has one last opening...

[reallyaduck]

"- but even if you don't work with me, that - that doesn't mean I can't work with you!"

Duck is, alas, not known for her snappy retorts.

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir snorts.

"Practice your logic sometime. If you have any." With that, and a finely-turned pivot, Fakir walks away from Duck and out of the bar.

She's still idiotically (and suicidally) brave, Fakir decides. (He ignores the fact that he has no room to talk.)