we are ignoring big daddies for the serotonin. which, speaking of - rondo's eyebrows jump at the kiss, and he... sighs, a little bit. just the tiniest bit, he sighs and leans over to return it, because he just loves loves loves these little gestures of affection, and every kiss makes him melt. he could float like a cartoon character, every time.
as she pulls back, he smiles at her, and his gaze flicks to the flower crown. he perks up as he realizes what it is, and then nods, bowing down so she can put it on his head. ]
Of course, many good things come in pairs and all that.
[ insert picture of small fluffy dog making the :v: sign
she will just place it on his head with care, kind of arranging a few unruly fluffy bits (did she make them fluffier on purpose? maybe. maybe she likes that!!!!) before she holds his face a moment longer. there's a look in her eyes that says that perhaps she is very much loathe to let go, but she does anyways, lingering seconds longer than she really needs to. ]
It's perfect... and I did make a second... would you like to put it on me?
[ ehe? it's on the table, but she'll take his hand to take him over there. briefly her eyes glance over towards the water, but then flick back again quite firmly. she's starting to wonder if this was a very good spot to begin with, but it's fine, she will just steer him gently to the table, turning her eyes back to him. ]
[ speaking of fluffy dogs, he does in fact get a little fluffier. his hair sticks in the parts of the flower crown, cowlicked up in many directions because it simply refuses to cooperate, but he laughs a little when she settles it and, without even realizing it, leans into her hands when she holds his face. it's a little warm, but she can feel his smile, feel the dimple in his cheek when he grins more full force.
it's funny. the first time he ever went on a date here was being ""matchmade"", but even that was an awfully romantic setup. lavi did a good job! and he has high standards, now, but this matches it and then some. he's feeling fluttery and light and just so, so happy, practically floating as she leads him over to the tea garden.
he does briefly get distracted by the grotto, too, following her gaze with a tilt of his head, but... for now it looks okay? a little worrying, but, hopefully fine. maybe.
he'll pick up the flower crown as asked. ]
I'd be happy to. [ cute.... cute. okay! he takes it very, very carefully - trying not to crush any of the cute little flowers - and then sets it very carefully in marina's hair, brushing down anything that's sticking up carefully with his fingers. it's a little clumsy - he has big hands - but it's no less careful, for it, and the whole moment feels very, very romantic for rondo who is in fact kind of a disney princess. ]
...There. Do you want to go look? I think I did alright.
[ she can feel the very light weight of the flowers on her head, and she closes her eyes a moment, memorizing the way he's careful, even with his hands that sometimes practically take hers over. she just leans a little into it and when he's through, lets her eyes find his. ]
... Yeah. Let's look together, actually.
[ she doesn't know if she likes what she sees in the water, but she knows that if she can look at it with rondo, it's something she can parse out better. maybe it'll make her heart thrum less hard with an almost anxious feeling. she swore she saw something familiar there, the old stained glass, the feeling of someone turning to putty in her hands, the shambling in the basement (would it have been different? why is it here? why can she see it in glimpses of reflective surfaces?)
marina reaches up, tucking a little errant hair behind his ear, lingering. ]
'Kay, c'mon.
[ to be brave, she tugs him with her. to the water, to where her reflection shimmers back briefly, and the crown is at a slightly strange angle - but not bad. she likes it. ]
It looks love—
[ but then she swears she can see him now, not quite himself, but him standing by her, and as the water seems to still its ripples, she's confused again, where she sees flickers of herself covered in blood - at her heels, on her skirt again - but she isn't alone.
he's standing there, but not in a knight's regalia - this isn't the period of time for it. he stands like a soldier, but not nearly as harrowed as levi, though he is dulled, almost de-saturated, just as covered in blood, just as tired, the two of them walking back to a train that has stopped on the tracks, a train that's temporarily shelter from the rays of the moon that make the both of them ill steadily in how it beats down on them. still, he smiles in the sort of reassuring way that makes her heart hurt.
("we'll find him," the false memory of her says quietly in the reflection, staring at the dilapidated pillar of flesh with her father's face twisted in a painful look of passion. 'we'll find him' with worry in her tone, not for him, but for what they'll have to face if his fate is not unlike that of the other strange beings they've found, people moonscorched beyond sloughing skin, into nightmarish paragons of themselves.
—sazantos, missing, is going to be worse, marina feels it, almost like a tired premonition, an ache in the sluggish bleeding that comes from her arm, dribbling onto her shoe. if they hurry back, maybe it can be salvaged. if not, they'll just have to cut it off.)
termina stretches long and vast, the day to day nearly endless, and is that a good thing when time is running out? to be stuck within the confines of it? to run until you can't and until your eyes must close?
in the confines of the train car, they curl up on a seat together, and she lets him rest his head in her lap as she ponders the knife in her hands quietly, the edge clean as a whistle. she wonders if, going into tomorrow, it would be worth it to ask him if he'd like aid. if he'd let her make her mark over his eye, or down the smooth swath of his cheek. so he won't die, so they both won't die— ]
first of all, he's really happy just to lean into the little, affectionate touch, following her over towards the water, and -
and then the memory happens. or... not the memory, but rather, an alternate world, a story of what could have been. the sight of the blood has him curling his hand tightly in marina's, instinctually, protectively, but he finds himself drawn in to stare, too. this is...
this is prehevil - marina's nightmarish festival. a world where rondo and marina found themselves together under the same moonlight. he can't tear his eyes away, even if it's an uneasy, unnerving sight to watch the twisted, awful monster that must have been her father, to feel the anxiety and the implication, that it likely would have been sazantos, too, thrown back into the actual memory share of marina's misery and suffering weeks ago. ]
That's...
[ home, he doesn't say, because it's not, but -
the water ripples.
rondo holds marina's hand in one of his, curled around a knife. it's barely ten seconds long - a pair of hopeful blue eyes, trusting, and then a nod, as he pulls his hands away. the lift of a knife, touching to a cheek.
and then it ripples again.
he swallows, hard, and lets the moment settle. ]
... [ and, hand still wrapped around hers, he says, quietly: ] ... I am glad, an alternate world that it could have been, that I would have still been able to find you.
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flameguard) wrote2024-06-10 03:29 pm
no subject
we are ignoring big daddies for the serotonin. which, speaking of - rondo's eyebrows jump at the kiss, and he... sighs, a little bit. just the tiniest bit, he sighs and leans over to return it, because he just loves loves loves these little gestures of affection, and every kiss makes him melt. he could float like a cartoon character, every time.
as she pulls back, he smiles at her, and his gaze flicks to the flower crown. he perks up as he realizes what it is, and then nods, bowing down so she can put it on his head. ]
You made one for you, too? [ cute... ] Thank you.
no subject
[ insert picture of small fluffy dog making the :v: sign
she will just place it on his head with care, kind of arranging a few unruly fluffy bits (did she make them fluffier on purpose? maybe. maybe she likes that!!!!) before she holds his face a moment longer. there's a look in her eyes that says that perhaps she is very much loathe to let go, but she does anyways, lingering seconds longer than she really needs to. ]
It's perfect... and I did make a second... would you like to put it on me?
[ ehe? it's on the table, but she'll take his hand to take him over there. briefly her eyes glance over towards the water, but then flick back again quite firmly. she's starting to wonder if this was a very good spot to begin with, but it's fine, she will just steer him gently to the table, turning her eyes back to him. ]
no subject
it's funny. the first time he ever went on a date here was being ""matchmade"", but even that was an awfully romantic setup. lavi did a good job! and he has high standards, now, but this matches it and then some. he's feeling fluttery and light and just so, so happy, practically floating as she leads him over to the tea garden.
he does briefly get distracted by the grotto, too, following her gaze with a tilt of his head, but... for now it looks okay? a little worrying, but, hopefully fine. maybe.
he'll pick up the flower crown as asked. ]
I'd be happy to. [ cute.... cute. okay! he takes it very, very carefully - trying not to crush any of the cute little flowers - and then sets it very carefully in marina's hair, brushing down anything that's sticking up carefully with his fingers. it's a little clumsy - he has big hands - but it's no less careful, for it, and the whole moment feels very, very romantic for rondo who is in fact kind of a disney princess. ]
...There. Do you want to go look? I think I did alright.
[ gesturing with his head over to the water... ]
no subject
... Yeah. Let's look together, actually.
[ she doesn't know if she likes what she sees in the water, but she knows that if she can look at it with rondo, it's something she can parse out better. maybe it'll make her heart thrum less hard with an almost anxious feeling. she swore she saw something familiar there, the old stained glass, the feeling of someone turning to putty in her hands, the shambling in the basement (would it have been different? why is it here? why can she see it in glimpses of reflective surfaces?)
marina reaches up, tucking a little errant hair behind his ear, lingering. ]
'Kay, c'mon.
[ to be brave, she tugs him with her. to the water, to where her reflection shimmers back briefly, and the crown is at a slightly strange angle - but not bad. she likes it. ]
It looks love—
[ but then she swears she can see him now, not quite himself, but him standing by her, and as the water seems to still its ripples, she's confused again, where she sees flickers of herself covered in blood - at her heels, on her skirt again - but she isn't alone.
he's standing there, but not in a knight's regalia - this isn't the period of time for it. he stands like a soldier, but not nearly as harrowed as levi, though he is dulled, almost de-saturated, just as covered in blood, just as tired, the two of them walking back to a train that has stopped on the tracks, a train that's temporarily shelter from the rays of the moon that make the both of them ill steadily in how it beats down on them. still, he smiles in the sort of reassuring way that makes her heart hurt.
("we'll find him," the false memory of her says quietly in the reflection, staring at the dilapidated pillar of flesh with her father's face twisted in a painful look of passion. 'we'll find him' with worry in her tone, not for him, but for what they'll have to face if his fate is not unlike that of the other strange beings they've found, people moonscorched beyond sloughing skin, into nightmarish paragons of themselves.
—sazantos, missing, is going to be worse, marina feels it, almost like a tired premonition, an ache in the sluggish bleeding that comes from her arm, dribbling onto her shoe. if they hurry back, maybe it can be salvaged. if not, they'll just have to cut it off.)
termina stretches long and vast, the day to day nearly endless, and is that a good thing when time is running out? to be stuck within the confines of it? to run until you can't and until your eyes must close?
in the confines of the train car, they curl up on a seat together, and she lets him rest his head in her lap as she ponders the knife in her hands quietly, the edge clean as a whistle. she wonders if, going into tomorrow, it would be worth it to ask him if he'd like aid. if he'd let her make her mark over his eye, or down the smooth swath of his cheek. so he won't die, so they both won't die— ]
Oh...
no subject
first of all, he's really happy just to lean into the little, affectionate touch, following her over towards the water, and -
and then the memory happens. or... not the memory, but rather, an alternate world, a story of what could have been. the sight of the blood has him curling his hand tightly in marina's, instinctually, protectively, but he finds himself drawn in to stare, too. this is...
this is prehevil - marina's nightmarish festival. a world where rondo and marina found themselves together under the same moonlight. he can't tear his eyes away, even if it's an uneasy, unnerving sight to watch the twisted, awful monster that must have been her father, to feel the anxiety and the implication, that it likely would have been sazantos, too, thrown back into the actual memory share of marina's misery and suffering weeks ago. ]
That's...
[ home, he doesn't say, because it's not, but -
the water ripples.
rondo holds marina's hand in one of his, curled around a knife. it's barely ten seconds long - a pair of hopeful blue eyes, trusting, and then a nod, as he pulls his hands away. the lift of a knife, touching to a cheek.
and then it ripples again.
he swallows, hard, and lets the moment settle. ]
... [ and, hand still wrapped around hers, he says, quietly: ] ... I am glad, an alternate world that it could have been, that I would have still been able to find you.