Ava-- as usual, it feels like-- is in a million places at once. Buffy being all judgey about her multiple-murder thing. Riley being adorable and the best thing ever. Bela agreeing to check up on her parents.
Who might be dead. It's been a fun start to the week.
At any rate, Ava hasn't noticed anybody ridiculously attractive in the immediate vicinity, but that may be because she is highly focused on achieving a latte.
Edward can hope this luck will hold out even post-latte. Well, at least with a lack of any realism to it. He's already ignoring it when his face appears, making a face at the text he's reading.
Castigating history teachers for content selection was seriously not enough.
He tossed the book at the table where it landed with a resounding thud.
And indeed, call her a paranoid psycho killer, but that noise startles her into glancing sharply in his direction.
... Ava's so blaming Riley for the resurgence of her libido. Or something. Even though this guy mmmight be a little young for her.
She wasn't kidding, though, when she told Riley she wasn't a date-ten-people-at-once kind of girl: One guy occupying the romantic portion of her brain is more than enough. These thoughts all take her roughly ten seconds to work through, after initially noticing the guy, but they do occur.
And there went his luck. With a detail, vivid studying of his features and his body, tracing down and then up again. Thought cohesion failing and then returning. At least he mastered not frowning about it decades ago? On the outside.
Edward went for staying with the annoyed reaction, pinched expression, gold eyes finally shifting his gaze to the girl in question. His eyebrows rose, and his tone was obviously rhetorical, even as nothing about his specifism screamed high school.
There is a boy walking up to the Bar, also carrying some books. His, however, have various papers stuck into them, and there's a quill pen stuck in his mouth. He is, however, smart enough not to try to carry an ink well on top of those books.
He looks quite a bit younger than Edward appears to be--maybe fourteen or so, though in reality he's nearly sixteen. Oddly delicate features are framed by dark curls--
Seriously? He's naturally a rather beautiful child.
Still, he's in a fairly rough page uniform--looks about medieval, although his face seems to be vaguely Roman--and he rather gracelessly drops the books onto the bartop and pulls himself onto a stool. "Bar, would you mind--"
An inkwell appears.
He grins and chuckles a little, green eyes dancing. "Thank you."
And he opens the top one, pulls out the pages, and starts avidly reading and making notes. He looks like he's enjoying it.
Beauty is an oddly easy thing to overlook after the circle's Edward moved in post the late 1910's. Especially when your species is known for it, and you rank out in paramount, without caring about and while having everyone else shove their thoughts about it at you.
It's actually a very, very minor detail that catches Edward's attention.
Though in honesty, it's a detail seen through someone else's eyes conveyed to his mind, while Edward is still reading. Which made him glance over his book in a completely calm fashion, as though he was only rising from whatever paragraph for a break.
There are any number of reasons that something catches Tavi's attention.
It might be instinct--and Tavi's got good ones, and learned to listen to them very young. It might be growing up with an empath who was always sure he was about to do something utterly mischievous and crazy, and growing used to having someone looking over his shoulder. (In his aunt's defense, she was usually right.)
On the other hand, it might be that while Tavi is fully paying attention--incredibly careful attention--to what he's doing... he's being trained to always be aware of his surroundings. He's being taught to analyze the slightest movements for possible motive.
He has no idea why, but he's bloody certain he's being watched.
However, he doesn't let it bother him overmuch--until someone draws steel he won't care much, in the Bar--and keeps taking notes.
...Princeps Gaius Undecimus died trying to alleviate the flooding in the Weeping Hills, leaving the infant Undecimus as the First Lord's only heir. Atticus Placus made a bid for the Crown, backed by
( ... )
The text Edward can take or leave really. Especially as he'll never be able to forget it from memory so long as he is, well, not-living. He'll have it to look over and turn over and take apart, or give a damn not a bit about later.
It's not the reason he's studying the boy, after all.
He does go to school with a plethora of children the age of young boy and others in his age range. There are ones just as focused and driven, and even as incredibly savant. None of those are the reason either.
Trudy noticed the kid when she claimed her table, of course. He's beautiful, yes, but not her type - god no, she prefers 'em older (late twenties at least, thank you) and more interesting looking than perfect. Instead, her thoughts were about stained glass, and Renassiance paintings, and snickery kind of wouldn't Michelangelo love that.
Those thoughts are in Spanish, but she shifts back to English once she gets to her table and starts stripping her rifle. Pretty the kid might be, but trying to clean a muddy rifle is a bitch, and far more important.
He's fluent; has been for a long time now. Castilian and Mexican were among the second set of ones learned, decades ago. Because of Carlisle -- and the Volturi. It's a better, and far worse, thought to have cross his mind in the middle of the paragraph he stopped reading when she was picturing churches.
Edward waits the better part of a minute and half before letting the book rest in his lap. He's restless and she can't expect not to be inviting any attention by cleaning a weapon that large.
To be honest, attention wasn't the first thing on her mind. The main thing on her mind (ignoring those little comments on him) is a wry, military-cranky bitching of thank god for milliways, I get this clean I can go check on my baby goddamn Pandora.
(the visual on 'baby' is her Samson; the visuals for Pandora are a jumbled mix of vines and jungle and a six-legged wolf-type-thing dropping as she pulls the trigger)
Still, her thoughts do calm down once she starts to clean her weapon, her movements methodical and her peace of mind restored just as deliberately.
Routine is like unto meditation when it's done often enough. Everything calms, stills, while moving. For a few passing moments, without quite focusing on it, Edward can actually focus on her (without ever losing the rest of the rabble) and it.
In the way, where if he were human it might have gravitated in a physical leaning fashion toward a center of stillness. Like he did with Esme or Jasper, at times.
He doesn't though. Lean.
He simply watches her quietly.
And maybe he's surprised when he says, quiet and calm voice, like velvet muddling the numbers of emotions trapped in it, "You are a soldier?" It's a toss up between if this is a question, or he's just stating it to her.
A boy who looks to be about fourteen is writing a paper at the next table. The process involves a quill pen, an inkwell, and a great deal of grimacing at the state of the nib.
Fakir writes a sentence, drops a blot of ink and scowls. After a moment he sets his pen in the inkwell and glances over at the older boy.
Edward shrugged, the kind of slovenly, careless movement, that should come off like it is a childish, sluggish, bruttish movement defined by years of slothful living -- but instead still it only has the kind of inherent perfect grace dancers spent decades trying to effect.
He offered a show of the books front covers. American History.
Edward is already betting it won't look familiar. He blames the boys clothes.
Comments 169
Who might be dead. It's been a fun start to the week.
At any rate, Ava hasn't noticed anybody ridiculously attractive in the immediate vicinity, but that may be because she is highly focused on achieving a latte.
Reply
Castigating history teachers for content selection was seriously not enough.
He tossed the book at the table where it landed with a resounding thud.
Reply
... Ava's so blaming Riley for the resurgence of her libido. Or something. Even though this guy mmmight be a little young for her.
She wasn't kidding, though, when she told Riley she wasn't a date-ten-people-at-once kind of girl: One guy occupying the romantic portion of her brain is more than enough. These thoughts all take her roughly ten seconds to work through, after initially noticing the guy, but they do occur.
In the meantime: book!
"Is it that bad?" she asks, blinking.
Reply
Edward went for staying with the annoyed reaction, pinched expression, gold eyes finally shifting his gaze to the girl in question. His eyebrows rose, and his tone was obviously rhetorical, even as nothing about his specifism screamed high school.
"Have you ever read a high school text book?"
Reply
He looks quite a bit younger than Edward appears to be--maybe fourteen or so, though in reality he's nearly sixteen. Oddly delicate features are framed by dark curls--
Seriously? He's naturally a rather beautiful child.
Still, he's in a fairly rough page uniform--looks about medieval, although his face seems to be vaguely Roman--and he rather gracelessly drops the books onto the bartop and pulls himself onto a stool. "Bar, would you mind--"
An inkwell appears.
He grins and chuckles a little, green eyes dancing. "Thank you."
And he opens the top one, pulls out the pages, and starts avidly reading and making notes. He looks like he's enjoying it.
Reply
It's actually a very, very minor detail that catches Edward's attention.
Though in honesty, it's a detail seen through someone else's eyes conveyed to his mind, while Edward is still reading. Which made him glance over his book in a completely calm fashion, as though he was only rising from whatever paragraph for a break.
Reply
It might be instinct--and Tavi's got good ones, and learned to listen to them very young. It might be growing up with an empath who was always sure he was about to do something utterly mischievous and crazy, and growing used to having someone looking over his shoulder. (In his aunt's defense, she was usually right.)
On the other hand, it might be that while Tavi is fully paying attention--incredibly careful attention--to what he's doing... he's being trained to always be aware of his surroundings. He's being taught to analyze the slightest movements for possible motive.
He has no idea why, but he's bloody certain he's being watched.
However, he doesn't let it bother him overmuch--until someone draws steel he won't care much, in the Bar--and keeps taking notes.
...Princeps Gaius Undecimus died trying to alleviate the flooding in the Weeping Hills, leaving the infant Undecimus as the First Lord's only heir. Atticus Placus made a bid for the Crown, backed by ( ... )
Reply
It's not the reason he's studying the boy, after all.
He does go to school with a plethora of children the age of young boy and others in his age range. There are ones just as focused and driven, and even as incredibly savant. None of those are the reason either.
Reply
Those thoughts are in Spanish, but she shifts back to English once she gets to her table and starts stripping her rifle. Pretty the kid might be, but trying to clean a muddy rifle is a bitch, and far more important.
Reply
Edward waits the better part of a minute and half before letting the book rest in his lap. He's restless and she can't expect not to be inviting any attention by cleaning a weapon that large.
Reply
(the visual on 'baby' is her Samson; the visuals for Pandora are a jumbled mix of vines and jungle and a six-legged wolf-type-thing dropping as she pulls the trigger)
Still, her thoughts do calm down once she starts to clean her weapon, her movements methodical and her peace of mind restored just as deliberately.
Reply
In the way, where if he were human it might have gravitated in a physical leaning fashion toward a center of stillness. Like he did with Esme or Jasper, at times.
He doesn't though. Lean.
He simply watches her quietly.
And maybe he's surprised when he says, quiet and calm voice, like velvet muddling the numbers of emotions trapped in it, "You are a soldier?" It's a toss up between if this is a question, or he's just stating it to her.
Reply
Fakir writes a sentence, drops a blot of ink and scowls. After a moment he sets his pen in the inkwell and glances over at the older boy.
The book looks interesting, at least.
Reply
Maybe this is a coincidence.
Those happen in stories, right?
Reply
"What are you reading?" Fakir asks. (Books are much higher on Fakir's priority list than introductions.)
Reply
Edward shrugged, the kind of slovenly, careless movement, that should come off like it is a childish, sluggish, bruttish movement defined by years of slothful living -- but instead still it only has the kind of inherent perfect grace dancers spent decades trying to effect.
He offered a show of the books front covers. American History.
Edward is already betting it won't look familiar. He blames the boys clothes.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
When everything is focused on other things.
He closed his book on a finger, holding.
He studied her consideringly.
"Edward."
Reply
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