he will take her hand and pull her up to her feet easily, a warm smile on his face. he's a little tipsy - pink cheeked and smiley, effervescent as ever. ]
A little bit of both, maybe...? There's a really nice spot someone showed me earlier in the week where the view's incredible.
oh, being called sir definitely makes him happy, like visibly - he perks up a little bit, like a puppy trotting with its tail in the air because its got a big stick. rondo adjusts so he can hold her arm very gallantly in his, and escorts her off! they're heading for the main 'city' of roth, towards the towers. ]
I have. I confess, I really like these gatherings - our Wednesdays included. Even though they can be a bit... um, messy, sometimes, and they don't always go well, it's nice to see everyone getting along. There's a real sense of camaraderie to it.
[ especially now, after all that they've lost. ] What about you?
[ yeah im crying... what the fuck... WAHT THE FUCK!!l!!
but she will follow along, when she realizes where they're headed, her shoulders ease up a little more, fingers drumming gently on his upper arm. ]
Camaraderie... that's certainly the word for it. We've had to grow very close very quickly in the time we've spent here. It almost doesn't feel real. Time once again always feels like it's slipping through out fingers.
[ she tilts her head ]
I like them too. Even if we can only pull together meager things, I like that people can still somehow manage to laugh even when we're trapped in an awfully dark situation. I can appreciate that. Escapism - it's big part of what kept me sane back home.
[ time indeed. he makes a quiet, agreeing noise. ]
Things are so precarious, at every moment. [ anyone can die at any time, after all. from thursdays to the horror of finding ishtar dead from a monster in the middle of the week - at any moment, one of them could be possessed, and their lives could be snuffed out. there's some comfort in the semi-rigidity and predictability, but nothing here ever seems to stay that way for long. ] And it makes the better ones that we have all the more precious, too.
[ as marina talks - an awfully dark situation - rondo nods a little. his knowledge of her experience and daan's is fairly large, at this point, between memories and stories shared, and his heart hurts for the both of them, that they would be trapped in this place, where the story beats are the same. unconsciously, his arm flexes a little, like he's holding on just a little tighter. ]
Escapism. [ with a soft huff. ] Stories, and all things like it. [ him too. he'll lead her off towards a set of stairs, to start to climb up. ] I'm really glad we got a library, this week. I hope you were able to borrow a lot of books...?
The church is basically half library at this point... I think we made out like bandits, and there's still plenty of time to borrow a few more.
[ she'll keep up pace, probably at a little quicker clip to match him. ]
So long as Anisphia and Mathis are happy, we can fill the whole place with books.
[ the church is full of teens and somehow she's the eldest and they are all little nerds. she just looks to rondo with a warm smile. ]
I've never seen a place with so many from all over, not even the Vatican City had this many in their library - all with stories about different places. I used to read those kinds of travel books as a kid, dreaming of where I'd live the minute I could get away from Prehevil. I still think about that - maybe opening my own occult shop or bookstore in a town where nobody knows my name...
[ even though stealing is bad. he's very sorry ancient librarian that doesn't exist.
it's always really nice to see marina smile. and there's something heartening about that idea, too - about traveling, about her wanting to start a journey, to move far away. (something heartbreaking, when the memories of last week flicker through his mind, but he keeps it off of his face, and gives her arm a little squeeze in his.) ]
It's not a bookstore, but... maybe starting a little library counts. [ here, at least. in this awful, nightmarish little village. he matches the smile with one of his own, a little earnest, the suggestion genuine. ] Between me, and you, and... anyone else who stole books, we probably have a lot. We could make something out of it, when we're not allowed to come to this place anymore.
[ there's something in her that melts when he says all of that. it's warm, from the heart, and it's so rare that a boy is so honest. she squeezes his arm until he turns it over to her, and she pauses as she processes it all. ]
That's right. That's exactly right. It'll be something we can change to brighten up the place at least a bit.
[ she lifts her head and the smile is brighter than before. tilting her head, leaning it on his shoulder as they make their way up, there's something almost reverent about the walk, step by step. she doesn't want to stop. ]
That's all I want, sometimes. Bookstores were always where I felt the safest, where I could escape to... anywhere but home.
[ oh! he immediately offers his arm a little better so she can lean against him, and it feels... nice? it feels really nice. rondo's a stranger to these kind of things, but there's an undeniable sweetness to the gesture, and it makes his heart jump in a way that only really one thing ever has before. her smile, too - not for the first time, he finds himself thinking it. marina's really pretty.
he slows his walk so she doesn't have to speed up to match his footsteps, and they can take the stairs easily. ]
Then... we'll make sure we can make one. [ next week. they'll start up a little safe space, together. (they won't, but rondo can't know that, not right now. tonight is a peaceful evening in the city of roth.)
though, some of his smile does soften a little at that, brows pinching. ]
... I'm sorry, that home was not so welcoming. [ because rondo never had that problem - he grew up beloved and well cared for, even after the death of his parents, and he reaches over to gently cover her hand with his free one and give it a little squeeze, sympathetic. ] But I'm glad you were able to find solace, somewhere.
[ she hesitates, looking as though she's deep in thought for a few moments before her strides become stronger now. ]
... Back home my father was a prominent Dark Priest within Prehevil. He was leader of the Church of Alll-mer and performed a number of less than savory rituals and rites to try and earn favor with the gods. Tradition dictates that the first born son would inherit his mantle, his legacy, and with it the terrible traditions of old... killing parents, killing siblings, killing loved ones for the sake of blood precious enough to beckon the gods to turn their eyes upon the mortal ants below.
[ the hand covering hers... her fingers shift so she can wind them together. her palm is cold. ]
When I was born... I was in those minutes the firstborn son. However, my mother, who wanted no part in his machinations and delusions of grandeur, who didn't want me to have to bear the brunt of their violence and misanthropy... she lied... she told my father he'd had a daughter instead. And she raised me as one—grew my hair long, dressed me accordingly... and it felt right, being raised as a girl instead of a boy.
[ she looks him in the eye. ]
It never once felt like I was someone I wasn't. She never forced me... I. It was something I instinctively knew over time was to protect me. Perhaps my soul knew as well—Changeling. Swept away in the night to be replaced anew. And I wouldn't change who I am now. Not for a moment. Not even for a second.
[ finally, she squeezes with her fingers. she looks at him with a kind of quietly pleading intensity. please understand. ]
he catches on immediately that this story is going to be important - for a moment, he's on point, listening to her every word. and the first part is so unfortunately familiar, really. it's an echo of the story of pharamea, in the worst kind of ways. (sazantos had said it: why don't you ask your precious sacred flame? he's seen the ways their church can be so evil, whether it was the name of a supposed 'good', like the creation of a flameguard, or the name of nothing but pure, unadulterated evil, like father monaris.)
when she takes his hand, he gives a small, encouraging squeeze, feeling the cold texture of her palm and trying to warm it with his own. the love of a mother, and... the way she fits into herself, the way she knows herself.
and he thinks, for a moment, of the way marina so desperately forced away what was trying to take her body in her memories. their eyes lock, and rondo's expression is soft, understanding, and - serious, too, with the gravity of such an important secret. ]
... I understand. [ softly, with a little nod of his head. ] Thank you, for... for trusting me with something so precious.
[ there's a brief moment of hesitation where she isn't quite sure how it will be taken, but he squeezes her hand. and she feels something in her cut the string of tension drawn taut in her. a small sigh leaves her and she smiles, genuinely through the nervousness. ]
... I think you've earned it.
[ she squeezes his hand back with a smile broadening a bit more. ]
There's no room for the self in the church where I come from... everything is devoted to gods, to those who have become gods themselves and seek their power. But I want to live only for myself... and for the people I choose to live for.
[ there is a certain amount of assumptions to be made with the tone of her voice. he's one of them. ]
[ soft... cute - he's glad to see that smile, so genuine and warm, and he gives her hand one more little squeeze as they ascend the stairs. up, up, up, up to the starry orbs that dot the night sky. ]
I think that's a wonderful way to live. [ to live for yourself, for those who you care for. ] And it takes a lot of strength of heart to do so.
[ too bad she's going to fUCKING DIE in like three days BUT WHATEVER
there's a little pause, his voice softening. ] I... really admire that about you a lot, Marina. You're a really strong person, you know?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flameguard) wrote2024-06-10 03:29 pm
no subject
he will take her hand and pull her up to her feet easily, a warm smile on his face. he's a little tipsy - pink cheeked and smiley, effervescent as ever. ]
A little bit of both, maybe...? There's a really nice spot someone showed me earlier in the week where the view's incredible.
no subject
Then lead the way, Sir Rondo.
[ a ltitle switch up. she will get to her feet and just wind an arm around his very confidently, flicking a little bit of her hair off her shoulder. ]
Sounds exciting to me. Have you had a good time tonight?
no subject
oh, being called sir definitely makes him happy, like visibly - he perks up a little bit, like a puppy trotting with its tail in the air because its got a big stick. rondo adjusts so he can hold her arm very gallantly in his, and escorts her off! they're heading for the main 'city' of roth, towards the towers. ]
I have. I confess, I really like these gatherings - our Wednesdays included. Even though they can be a bit... um, messy, sometimes, and they don't always go well, it's nice to see everyone getting along. There's a real sense of camaraderie to it.
[ especially now, after all that they've lost. ] What about you?
no subject
but she will follow along, when she realizes where they're headed, her shoulders ease up a little more, fingers drumming gently on his upper arm. ]
Camaraderie... that's certainly the word for it. We've had to grow very close very quickly in the time we've spent here. It almost doesn't feel real. Time once again always feels like it's slipping through out fingers.
[ she tilts her head ]
I like them too. Even if we can only pull together meager things, I like that people can still somehow manage to laugh even when we're trapped in an awfully dark situation. I can appreciate that. Escapism - it's big part of what kept me sane back home.
no subject
Things are so precarious, at every moment. [ anyone can die at any time, after all. from thursdays to the horror of finding ishtar dead from a monster in the middle of the week - at any moment, one of them could be possessed, and their lives could be snuffed out. there's some comfort in the semi-rigidity and predictability, but nothing here ever seems to stay that way for long. ] And it makes the better ones that we have all the more precious, too.
[ as marina talks - an awfully dark situation - rondo nods a little. his knowledge of her experience and daan's is fairly large, at this point, between memories and stories shared, and his heart hurts for the both of them, that they would be trapped in this place, where the story beats are the same. unconsciously, his arm flexes a little, like he's holding on just a little tighter. ]
Escapism. [ with a soft huff. ] Stories, and all things like it. [ him too. he'll lead her off towards a set of stairs, to start to climb up. ] I'm really glad we got a library, this week. I hope you were able to borrow a lot of books...?
no subject
[ she'll keep up pace, probably at a little quicker clip to match him. ]
So long as Anisphia and Mathis are happy, we can fill the whole place with books.
[ the church is full of teens and somehow she's the eldest and they are all little nerds. she just looks to rondo with a warm smile. ]
I've never seen a place with so many from all over, not even the Vatican City had this many in their library - all with stories about different places. I used to read those kinds of travel books as a kid, dreaming of where I'd live the minute I could get away from Prehevil. I still think about that - maybe opening my own occult shop or bookstore in a town where nobody knows my name...
no subject
Heh. I took a few, too - I know what you mean.
[ even though stealing is bad. he's very sorry ancient librarian that doesn't exist.
it's always really nice to see marina smile. and there's something heartening about that idea, too - about traveling, about her wanting to start a journey, to move far away. (something heartbreaking, when the memories of last week flicker through his mind, but he keeps it off of his face, and gives her arm a little squeeze in his.) ]
It's not a bookstore, but... maybe starting a little library counts. [ here, at least. in this awful, nightmarish little village. he matches the smile with one of his own, a little earnest, the suggestion genuine. ] Between me, and you, and... anyone else who stole books, we probably have a lot. We could make something out of it, when we're not allowed to come to this place anymore.
Right?
no subject
That's right. That's exactly right. It'll be something we can change to brighten up the place at least a bit.
[ she lifts her head and the smile is brighter than before. tilting her head, leaning it on his shoulder as they make their way up, there's something almost reverent about the walk, step by step. she doesn't want to stop. ]
That's all I want, sometimes. Bookstores were always where I felt the safest, where I could escape to... anywhere but home.
no subject
he slows his walk so she doesn't have to speed up to match his footsteps, and they can take the stairs easily. ]
Then... we'll make sure we can make one. [ next week. they'll start up a little safe space, together. (they won't, but rondo can't know that, not right now. tonight is a peaceful evening in the city of roth.)
though, some of his smile does soften a little at that, brows pinching. ]
... I'm sorry, that home was not so welcoming. [ because rondo never had that problem - he grew up beloved and well cared for, even after the death of his parents, and he reaches over to gently cover her hand with his free one and give it a little squeeze, sympathetic. ] But I'm glad you were able to find solace, somewhere.
no subject
[ she hesitates, looking as though she's deep in thought for a few moments before her strides become stronger now. ]
... Back home my father was a prominent Dark Priest within Prehevil. He was leader of the Church of Alll-mer and performed a number of less than savory rituals and rites to try and earn favor with the gods. Tradition dictates that the first born son would inherit his mantle, his legacy, and with it the terrible traditions of old... killing parents, killing siblings, killing loved ones for the sake of blood precious enough to beckon the gods to turn their eyes upon the mortal ants below.
[ the hand covering hers... her fingers shift so she can wind them together. her palm is cold. ]
When I was born... I was in those minutes the firstborn son. However, my mother, who wanted no part in his machinations and delusions of grandeur, who didn't want me to have to bear the brunt of their violence and misanthropy... she lied... she told my father he'd had a daughter instead. And she raised me as one—grew my hair long, dressed me accordingly... and it felt right, being raised as a girl instead of a boy.
[ she looks him in the eye. ]
It never once felt like I was someone I wasn't. She never forced me... I. It was something I instinctively knew over time was to protect me. Perhaps my soul knew as well—Changeling. Swept away in the night to be replaced anew. And I wouldn't change who I am now. Not for a moment. Not even for a second.
[ finally, she squeezes with her fingers. she looks at him with a kind of quietly pleading intensity. please understand. ]
... Does this make sense, what I'm telling you?
no subject
he catches on immediately that this story is going to be important - for a moment, he's on point, listening to her every word. and the first part is so unfortunately familiar, really. it's an echo of the story of pharamea, in the worst kind of ways. (sazantos had said it: why don't you ask your precious sacred flame? he's seen the ways their church can be so evil, whether it was the name of a supposed 'good', like the creation of a flameguard, or the name of nothing but pure, unadulterated evil, like father monaris.)
when she takes his hand, he gives a small, encouraging squeeze, feeling the cold texture of her palm and trying to warm it with his own. the love of a mother, and... the way she fits into herself, the way she knows herself.
and he thinks, for a moment, of the way marina so desperately forced away what was trying to take her body in her memories. their eyes lock, and rondo's expression is soft, understanding, and - serious, too, with the gravity of such an important secret. ]
... I understand. [ softly, with a little nod of his head. ] Thank you, for... for trusting me with something so precious.
no subject
... I think you've earned it.
[ she squeezes his hand back with a smile broadening a bit more. ]
There's no room for the self in the church where I come from... everything is devoted to gods, to those who have become gods themselves and seek their power. But I want to live only for myself... and for the people I choose to live for.
[ there is a certain amount of assumptions to be made with the tone of her voice. he's one of them. ]
no subject
I think that's a wonderful way to live. [ to live for yourself, for those who you care for. ] And it takes a lot of strength of heart to do so.
[ too bad she's going to fUCKING DIE in like three days BUT WHATEVER
there's a little pause, his voice softening. ] I... really admire that about you a lot, Marina. You're a really strong person, you know?