✳ 004 ✳ [video] // [action] for Phancyhive residents.
[The view isn't from directly overhead, but it's almost there and it's steady, displaying a mahogany table top and a pair of white-gloved hands busily manipulating crochet needles. Mingled with and leading away from the needles is a line of gold wire, gleaming in the light--it's being pulled into looped stitches like regular yarn would be. Off to
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his long ears swivel back, then up slightly as he spots all the work, pink-red eyes like jewels in his white face in the candle-light. --he crosses to the dark-haired man, setting the tray down in a clear spot. he'd made cremes caramel earlier, so he's also placed one of those in a little covered dish on the tray for claude.
rabbit's not really sure what else to do for people when they're not quite being themselves, so he bakes. ]
Here. [ he's frowning as he pours for both of them, but then, that's his usual expression. ]
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With a soft click, the comb meets the table again. He sits back and waits, staring at the nearby pool table, wondering if Rabbit plays at all and if he'd fancy a game. Strategy would distract Claude for a little while, at least, before he remembers what he's lost and how he can't have it back.
His chest really, really hurts.]
... Thank you, [he says, once he has his cup of tea and crème caramel. Getting a spoonful of custard ( ... )
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Of course it's good. I made it, after all, didn't I?
[ he takes a sip of his tea, bright gaze flickering over the makeshift work-table at the jewelry, then back up to claude's face at the question. for a long moment, he just stares, gaze narrowing. claude must feel pathetic if he's going to ask something like that.
hm.
at last, though, he huffs, waving a dismissive hand. ]
You're just not being yourself. You haven't been for a while, now. [ a small tilt of his head, then, eyes opening fully again, guileless despite all his usual irritable behaviour. ] Anyway, it's fine to just want to have tea with you, after all, isn't it?
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[But Claude sets down the spoon decisively--for the first time in months, he isn't hungry. The hunger is still there, believe it or not, omnipresent per usual; he can feel it growling. It's just very distant from him--from his mind. It's very dull and distant, so far away that it might as well belong to someone else. When it bites into him, protesting, he doesn't care. He doesn't feel like eating.
This must be depression. What a mess.]
Among other things, Rabbit, I'm not sure of what "myself" entails anymore.
[He looks at Rabbit, finally, allowing only brief eye contact, and then deflects away to the jewelry. Aside from the hair comb, there is one other piece that he might've given Hannah: a bracelet of thin gold chains and tiny seashell charms. He thinks about throwing it out to sea.
Then, abruptly, he begins to tremble all over, from the tips of his hair and on down to his fingers. His teeth ache and and ache and ache from clenching them too hard.]
You are one of the few to want to share tea with me. [Without ( ... )
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That would have to be m-
[ Oh right. Hattie took it. She smiles weakly, lowering her hand, her tone muted. ]
It was a necklace my mother gave me before she passed away.
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Do you still have it, my lady? [he asks, curious, polite despite prying.]
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[And reminds Claude of his own situation.]
Is there any way to reacquire it?
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[For both, too, maybe.]
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[Claude reaches up and removes his glasses, but doesn't do anything with them.]
What is your name, sir?
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[ Dodging the more personal question, of course - material objects don't hold much worth for him. Any sort of deeper emotion in his words is lost on him, but even Neuro can tell something's weighing on the man's mind. And a most curious man he was. ]
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By now, Claude has set down Hannah's hair comb and picked up one of the barrettes. It's similar in make: crocheted gold wire, white pearls, and tiny filigree leaves. He opens and closes it with a continuous, distinctive, squeeze-clicking sound.]
Hello again, Mr. Nougami.
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[ in perfect Japanese manner - the place on Earth he was most accustomed to, even now - he bows towards the screen just slightly. ] Greetings, Mr. Faustus! It seems you have been busy. Are those all of your own make?
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My duties to my household have been particularly demanding as of late, so I haven't had as much time for trifling hobbies. [Lowering his eyes, he begins to repair the clip.] Regardless, these are my most recent creations.
Do you find any of them appealing? --One might make a worthy gift for your Sensei.
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If you ask people that, they might ask it back to you.
[His threat is thinly veiled, though he won't say it outright: I want to know first.]
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The past week and some days have been quiet in general. He spent much of his free time in a much smaller body, keeping his feelings downsized and unnoticeable. Grief doesn't amount to much when it's contained inside eight legs and eight eyes.
Tilting his head, he can hear the bird in the background--there's the distinct scrabble of its claws over flooring.]
My identity.
[It could have been his glasses, or his pocket watch, or even Alois, although that soul is indebted to him rather than wholly owned.
The sum total of all these things: Claude Faustus.]
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Who's to say that's even yours?
[And he wants to turn his NV upside down, too, so as not to see Claude, or the room Claude's in, or the lovely things his hands have been working with.]
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because You would refer to Alois Trancy's soul and eating that soul is the last thing Claude wants to do, ever, on a long list of nevers, given how the mere idea of loneliness forever makes him want to cry. And that's why the video abruptly goes dark.
His demonic hunger hasn't diminished at all, unfortunately; it's sharper and angrier after this week. He wants to greedily devour his master to the end, but he knows that he won't. Their contract is never, ever going to be completed. Such an understanding hurts much more than his grief--they'll never be made one, they're going to be apart forever. All he wants is his precious human, but Claude can't eat his cake and have it too.
He's silent for so long, it might be enraging. When he speaks, the NV's settings have changed, making this private, since he doubts he could deal with speaking to Alois in person.]That is ( ... )
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