{ lindwormeo and juliet }

[dreamposts]

LINDWORMEO & JULIET

It is the third dreamshift, and when everyone rouses and becomes aware of their situation, they find themselves dressed in Verona, a gothic city where night reigns everlasting and violence lurks around every corner. Not because of crime, but because of the two main families, the Montagues and the Capulets, everlasting feud. Fights break out almost every other minute and peace is hard sought after. However, peace is perhaps on the table, for the Capulets are hosting a grand masquerade in a gesture of truce. But it's difficult when one of Montague's sons is cursed as a Lindworm, one of the key reasons why there is a feud to begin with.

"But that's not really all that important," a voice echoes around them. It's a voice different from the tapirs that they've grown accustomed to, and after another moment it chimes in again. "Up here my fair little dreamwalkers."

And lo, high above in the permanent night sky is a moon so full and bright that it almost feels as if it could swallow them whole. After learning about the Story Eater's actions against Songerein's moon, the appearance of a face would certainly alarm many. But then the face seems to recede before it changes into a full person holding a quill and manuscript.

"Greetings! I am William Shakespeare and you are now within my own dream, a dreamscape I believe you call it. My works can be found in many places and in many worlds. Yet that accursed Story Eater has been devouring my masterpieces! I must now pen them all over again, but one of its minions is invading my mind and altering everything and I refuse to become a brainless puppet like Marlowe. I have isolated it within this place of my own design based off of Romeo and Juliet. However it seems after my reading of the Lindworm King, my visions have been affected a bit, but no matter. A playwright must find inspiration where he can!

But it is now up to you to see this play through completion. Doing so will help those outside draw out the fiend through the accumulated dreamotion energy, and if you could give it a few stabs that will help as well. Not all of you need to partake in my play, and I have already chosen my leading actors and actresses. You should find a brief copy of the script on your person, but you may act however you wish. However, I should warn you—this is a tragedy, so deaths are expected. But fear not, you will leave this dreamscape perhaps a bit tired, but unharmed. It's all a dream after all.

Now that should cover it. I look forward to seeing how everyone's tragic romances will play out. It may give me material for my next masterpiece!"

And just as suddenly as he had appeared, Shakespeare disappears from the moon, leaving it to loom brightly over the otherwise dark city.

I. GENERAL PROMPTS

Reminder that those cast as Romeo and Juliet can participate in most of these prompts, but the timing would be set early on before they move onto their designated scenes.

A. Family Feud. Everyone in Verona is randomly split in allegiance between the Montagues and the Capulets, and whenever they meet there is some kind of tension. It could be violent, hostile, passive, petty, or even attraction. Surely Romeo and Juliet aren't the only ones who can love across the aisle. If not pit against each other to fight or exchange snide comments, opposing parties can also work together to deal with Erasers posing as creepy looking family members/soldiers/knights/etc.

» BONUS: TO ARMS. A city-wide family feud makes for good business if you’re in the weapons-and-armor trade. Gather materials to help smithies in creating armor and weapons.

B. Masquerade. Almost as if it's the opening act, everyone, both Montagues and Capulets are to attend a masquerade held within the Capulet's ballroom. It's a momentary "truce," and though tension between the families is still rampant, everyone is welcome to wear the finest clothing they can imagine and to partake in the festivities. The masquerade itself is in the ballroom, but there are also gardens and large terraces that guests can go to if they want some fresh air.

» BONUS: PREPARATIONS. Any good party requires a lot of preparation, and all of Verona is abuzz with activity leading up to the big night. Tailors need help getting fabric, jewels, and other baubles to create the finest dresses. Caterers need quality ingredients for the food that will be prepared and served. Someone needs to step up and be the band for the night. There are plenty of ways in which Dreamwalkers can help make the masquerade a success!

C. EXTRA SCENES. There are a few specific "scenes" featuring key characters from the original play. Whether taken voluntarily or "beckoned" by Shakespeare, those who participate will have a little "essence" of the original character. No full personality change, but they might feel certain impulses or find it easier to slip into the role. Note: anyone can fill in the roles of "Romeo" and "Juliet" for the Paris scenes; it is not exclusive to those who signed up for Romeo and Juliet.

1. PARIS V. JULIET. Paris meets and dances with Juliet, taking a fancy with her. With his arrogance believing he can win over the Capulet princess, throughout the night he attempts to woo Juliet, either in the ballroom or the gardens just outside. Juliet must not be swayed! (Or maybe a little swayed, but try not go totally off-book here). Juliet can shut down Paris however they want. (This scene happens during or immediately after the "Masquerade", but before the Balcony scene.)
   
   
2. PARIS V. ROMEO. Paris bullies his younger brother about the Lindworm curse on a near-constant basis. And to add insult to injury, after meeting Juliet he’s decided that he wants Juliet for himself. Obviously, Romeo is not about to let his stupid mean brother steal the love of his life! They’re going to have to fight this one out, either with words or via fisticuffs. (This scene happens during or immediately after the "Masquerade" but before the "Balcony" scene.)
   
   
3. BENVOLIO'S ATTEMPTS. Benvolio is trying to find a cure for Romeo's curse, and after some research in the library he finds something! Good cousin that he is, he puts the theory to the test immediately. Unfortunately, his attempt backfires and he gets turned into a lindworm (fully or partially) instead. The poor guy is now out of sorts, and he needs protection so that someone doesn't mistake him for some monster and kill him. At least the transformation is only temporary.
   
   
4. TYBALT V. MERCUTIO. The infamous duel. Considering how much their families hate each other, the inciting incident can be just about anything. The original story has Tybalt goading Mercutio into a duel by calling Romeo a villain, Tybalt killing Mercutio, and Romeo killing Tybalt. But no one’s enforcing the particulars very closely here, so players are free to proceed with the fight any way they please. (If this fight does end in one or more deaths, please refer to the event details on how death works within the dreamscape.)

D. Love is a Battlefield. As if there wasn’t enough drama to deal with, a large, winged noctaere can be found throughout the dreamscape firing arrows at the residents, turning them into Erasers. It can summon smaller winged noctaere to fight for it, and if a dreamwalker gets hit by the arrows, they will slowly turn into a lindworm that is full of hate. It's difficult to combat the boss itself, but it can be weakened by defeating its minions and those hit by its arrows. Love of any form will be a powerful counter that will hit the boss as well.

» BONUS: ROSE COLLECTION. In the forests are white and red roses that are hidden under logs and stones. They will sparkle a bit to make them look different than other flowers. They must be collected before the Erasers can get to them. A white rose fed to a lindworm will return them back to normal. Eating a red rose will allow characters to turn into a pink, heart covered lindworm for ten minutes to fly up and try to combat against the winged noctaere or the Erasers.

II. ROMEO AND JULIET'S OBJECTIVES

The following objectives are locked to those who signed up for Romeo and Juliet. Please refer to the notes for all the stipulations and effects characters will experience as the tragic couple. Final reminder that the characters will be aware of the tragic ending as well as reassurance that they will awaken unharmed at the end of their final scene.

Click for objectives.

A. Love at First Sight. Time to get your party-crashing pants on, Romeo, because there is a masquerade that you are not invited to but are attending anyway. Who doesn’t love a good party? If you wear a mask, no one will know it’s you! Here Romeo and Juliet have the opportunity to meet and flirt and make goo-goo eyes at each other. And if they really want to get into the spirit of things, they can go into a laborious metaphor about how holding hands is super hot but kissing is way hotter. (Yes, really.) At this point Romeo's curse is only a partial transformation, something along the lines of scales down one side of his body.

B. Balcony Scene. The time for light flirting is over–this is where Romeo and Juliet get to declare their undying love for each other. Romeo really needs to work it as his brother, Paris, has also made moves on Juliet. There’s some strangeness in the dreamscape at this point that seems to have mistaken Shakespeare for musical theater, so the loving couple must sing their love for one another. With that spirit in mind, the moment should be suitably big and dramatic! Immediately after this scene is when Romeo and Juliet get married, so there’s no reason not to put it all out there. Shakespeare will lend a "helping hand" in giving them knowledge of the lyrics to sing, though they are free to create their own song and freestyle it. (Players can use existing songs or make it up as they go.)

C. Elope. Being the very mature and intelligent lovers that they are, Romeo and Juliet decide to get married after knowing each other for a whole day. Time to get to the chapel, meet with the Friar, and exchange vows. Shakespear will lend a helping hand by providing wedding attire fitting for those who are cast in their role. That's right, every Juliet will have their own special bridal dress, isn't he so considerate? And then it’s time to do whatever it is that newlyweds do, if that's what they are into. Otherwise, Romeo and Juliet will need to return home to prepare for their future.

D. Runaways. Juliet learns that she is being forced to marry Romeo's brother, Paris, which is a problem because she’s already married and also she doesn’t like that other guy anyway. In a major divergence from the source material, Romeo and Juliet decide to make a run for it instead of that whole poisoning-yourself business. It’s just a better idea all around. The goal is to get out of town undetected, which means that this is a stealth mission. Romeo and Juliet must follow a path and avoid getting caught. Whatever it takes to get past the guards and would-be snitches that would turn you in!

E. Find the Cure. Even after making it out so far, fate is against them. At this point Romeo's curse is advancing, so they need to look for the cure. Just outside of town they encounter a very trustworthy set of three witches who provide a list of items for them to retrieve and mix into a potion: rainbow mushroom, feather of a dove, three snails, and lavender. No one said this was going to taste good. However, while it will work temporarily, only Juliet is told that the final ingredient must be the blood of his lover. It's a cryptic message, however they do not specify how the blood is taken. Do they mean just a few drops? Or her life?

F. Tragic Ending. Upon learning of the young couple's running away, the Capulets have declared war with knights out hunting to kill Romeo and bring back Juliet. They are soon found and no matter what they do, death will await them. But how? Players can direct this however they want. Did the soldiers catch them? Did they decide that the whole double-suicide poison thing was a good idea after all? Does one tragically sacrifice themself to save the other? Does Romeo go full Lindworm and eat Juliet? The possibilities are endless. At this point Romeo is capable of turning into a full lindworm if he's taken the cure without Juliet's blood. If he drinks the cure with Juliet's blood, then he will revert to a normal human (teenager) with no extra powers.

[Mod Note: Details on this event can be found here and we request all thread submissions to be made here.]

Comments

[roseofmay]

[Then that separates him from Brahne. Even if Beatrix did not think it was her duty to die in service, she knows very well that her queen would expect that of her. It's her obligation. Her's her responsibility. It's her duty. Fewer things to Beatrix matter more than duty, it seems.

Even if there is the subtle turning of something inside of her that should think to question that.

She could think on it, speculate for hours at a time, but he pulls her right from that with his question. How ironic. Wasn't she just talking with Tifa about this? Rather, Tifa had asked about her dancing. Beatrix, a woman who usually keeps to the walls to avoid people asking her stupid questions like that.

Alexandria's general almost immediately scoffs.]

If you are asking if I am capable of it, it seems to be a necessity for members of the court to have lessons in such. [After a pause, she draws up a hand and haughtily flicks back a tress of brown hair, loose and less on the signature rose-like curl of her hair.] I am not an exception to that. I have not made it a habit to do so at these... galas, however.

[menancia]

[He cannot help but smile at her response, at her effort to appear removed from the subject at hand. He gestures openly with one hand, giving a faint shake of his head.]

It is less a question of ability, I suppose, but regarding willingness.

[That seems questionable, still, given that she'd made a point of saying she doesn't make a habit of it, but he inclines his head and reaches a hand towards her in offering, his tone and what can be glimpsed of his expression both pleasantly mild.]

Would you like to?

[roseofmay]

[Is this a joke. First Tifa. Now Dohalim. Is there something on her that implies she ought to be doing any such thing? Why does he treat her like that? 'Lady Beatrix.' Dancing. Thinking she's some kind of admirable figure back home instead of the frighteningly cold woman that she's tried to paint herself as here.

The inside turmoil is real. Zidane's voice always lingers in her head. Find herself. Find the Beatrix beneath the title. Even if she does, even if she knows of the deep kindness that runs in her, why show that to anyone else? What would be the point?

The uncertainty in her expression lasts moments before she shoves it aside. Of all the things she can let him see, that isn't one of them, and there's no shortage of things she means to hide.]

I cannot help but think you are mocking me, Dohalim.

[He isn't. She can think it all she wants, but he's not the sort to act like that. It's so much easier when she's trading blows with him than these kinds of moments where she doesn't know how to converse. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, drawing her gaze aside as she, in the most glacial pace, extends her hand warily. She's a military general. How is it that this mere man is more disconcerting than staring death in the face?]

[menancia]

[Her response does draw some confusion from him in reply; his brows knit together beneath his mask, his smile fading ever-so-slightly, though he remains largely pleasant.

Mockery? Truly, he's never been inclined towards such. He wouldn't think to start now. If anything, he has always been too serious for his own good.]

Do I seem the sort? Of course not. The question is a simple one— and genuine. I would never think to mock you, General. It would be insulting, to say the very least.

[And what's more, it is simply not in his nature— but she sees the truth of the situation quickly enough, because even before he has finished, she is extending her hand, however warily.

Smiling once more, he takes it with his own, careful, as if concerned he might spook her if he moves too quickly.]

That was not so difficult.

[roseofmay]

[...It would be easier if he were mocking her, she realises. This whole... being treated with tenderness thing. This strange understanding that he wields so effortlessly in her presence. It's not the first time she's thought it, but Dohalim's demeanour is one she's unsure of what to do with. It's no different than any time Eustace or Zidane have offered kind words, and important advice. Insight that normally she would have no interest in listening to.

Dohalim's hand touches hers and the contact itself is worthy enough of her drawing back. She doesn't touch. It's just not a thing she does. In a way, it's as if she fears he might see more of her if he gets too close. Fear. What a heavy concept. She hates it. Hates that she feels just a touch softer in his presence. She doesn't like it at all.

...Is that who she is beneath all of the obligation? Softer, perhaps. Loving of her people. Of her sovereign. Of her princess. Of those who have defined her life. Who and how she is. But only with brutality can she be taken seriously. A kind Beatrix, a Beatrix who demonstrates her compassion and understanding, one who offers more than the scowl that so frequently crosses her features—

—She's certain a woman like that would be laughed out of every conference room.

For just a moment, her hand tightens, the curl of her fingers atop his hand. The subtle heat that rises to her cheeks she... despises. Abhors. This whole thing is ridiculous.]

Speak for yourself.

[Not difficult for him. He doesn't even understand a modicum of what position he unintentionally puts her in. But because she is almost positive it's unintentional, for he's a fool and has been happy to show her his foolishness plenty of times, she can't be angry with him about it.]

[menancia]

[He can only understand the very surface of her hesitance, of how strange it must be to step outside of ones position as she has— he has stepped out of his own in the past, to be certain, but this is something that comes quite naturally to him, something he needn't think about too hard, and their differing experiences mean he has little knowledge of what races through her mind at this very moment.

He knows enough, at least, to be patient and kind. That much is certainly warranted.

He draws her forward by that one hand, reaching out to lay his free hand against her waist, though the touch is polite and careful, nothing breaching dancefloor etiquette.]

Is it perhaps made easier by the fact that there are none here to see? You needn't be concerned with prying eyes, or the judgment of others, if indeed such a thing could ever trouble you at all.

[She's such a formidable woman in her own right that he somehow doubts it.]

[roseofmay]

[Beatrix decides to focus on... Well. In this case, his neck. That seems to be a non-judgemental part of him. At least a part of him that doesn't feel quite so evaluated and assessed. He's not meaning to. And he's not doing either of those things. For her, it's simply a part ingrained in her. Alexandria has watched her, the whole of it, for over ten years. Every breath she's taken. Every action she's put forth. Every decision she's made. Every moment she's jumped at Brahne's command.

She settles on his words, choosing to turn them over as she considers how to respond. Her other hand finds the curve of his upper shoulder where she lightly drapes the curl of her fingers. Only firm enough to keep proper posture.

He's a little more on top of things than she'd like him to be. Prying eyes are a concern. She'd probably die a little on the inside if Zidane saw this kind of thing. Or anyone else who remotely knows her in the world. Her reputation is everything. Her facade, if that's even what it is, the masquerade she's just infinitely hiding herself behind, to be shattered...? Impossible. Unacceptable. Intolerable!]

It is more a lack of experience. [She begins, choosing her words very carefully, as though there is more strategy in this mere conversation than there is in most battles.] My people would not pay witness to such a sight. I never danced in Alexandria, aside from the necessary tutelage.

[menancia]

[He nods in return, and though he's certain that her reputation means a great deal to her, even here, he does not press the matter. It comes as no surprise to him that her people have never seen her engage in something that might be considered frivolous, something that might make her seem too human— her dedication to her position is unfailing, that much has been made crystal clear.]

Perhaps you are overdue, then. I can see why you might not indulge in such a thing in your own kingdom— but here, you are simply Beatrix, are you not?

[Slowly, steadily, he begins to lead, letting the music guide his steps as he gives her hand a careful tug to draw her along with him.]

Let us see how much you remember from that tutelage.

[roseofmay]

[Is she? Thinking back to Hans' assessment of his position, of her own, she isn't certain she can agree. To some degree, she is defined by her role. Has been for... some time. Perhaps always, in some way, defined by such things. When she tries to remember a life before it—

Maybe it's all personal perspective. Perhaps, despite being a lord, a former lord, he's not defined by it because he's chosen not to be. Beatrix doubts it's that easy.]

Absence of the role, in its most official form, is not equitable to the absence of it in my person.

[Her words might be tempted to be followed up by more, but there's nothing that comes in pursuit. He tugs her along and she follows. In contrast to how sharp and striking she is on the field of battle, she seems particularly softer in these moments. Not delicate. Not any less elegant than she is with a sword in hand. It's merely a different type. Light on her feet, perhaps technically perfect. Perhaps expected of someone so drawn to her professionalism.

If this is a test, she expects to pass, even if she has to play the part of lady, rather than general.]

[menancia]

[He considers her words at length, and for a few beats, he is silent, leading her through the first few steps of an easy waltz. He notes, with interest, that her edges are not quite so sharp in these moments, here in the garden with the music drifting on the breeze. Though she claims not to indulge, there is no question that she was once taught how to dance quite properly.]

I would not go so far as to call what either of our roles have offered us absent, no.

[For here, he is no Lord, even less so than when he had stepped away from the position in Menancia, but those years have still shaped him— those behaviors, those values, as surely as her time as a general defines a great deal of who she is.

Still, not all, of that he is certain.]

I have no doubt that it will always be a part of you, as my former role's impact on me will never fade entirely— but we are not defined solely by what titles we have held, or the parts we have played. You were Beatrix before you were ever General, were you not?

[roseofmay]

[Is that true, she wonders. Is she genuinely more than the mantle of responsibility she has practically drowned herself beneath? In the eyes of Zidane, of Eustace, yes. Not at all unlike Dohalim's observations of her person. The closer any of them get to the truth of that, however, the more she feels she can only afford to offer the proverbial embrace of cold and isolation.

She looses a breath, caught up in his words, in undeniable thoughts of her person. The person who exists beyond that of 'General Beatrix.' It seems like such a common topic in this place, and she suspects it is only so because she has nothing else here to follow. She has no other alternatives. This is not how she ever wanted to make this journey of self-discovery.]

I should think it rather evident that I have not always been a military general.

[Beatrix begins, dropping her gaze onto Dohalim's choice of garb for this role he seems to play, though he also seems perfectly himself.]

I became a knight when I was quite young. Young enough that I do not recall much before it. As such, I suspect my life has always been attached to a sword. To servitude. I have not made it a habit to host too great a number of personal thoughts.

[Or desires. Or dreams. Or passions, it would seem.]

[menancia]

[He gives a thoughtful nod as she responds, a soft 'hmm' escaping him as he leads her through the next steps, doing so as though it were second nature to him. He's had a great deal of practice over the years, though not so many opportunities in recent ones. Though the party inside is simply a scene in a story, it reminds him of the days before his lordship, before he'd had no choice but to turn to politics, when things were far simpler.

He prefers the person he is now, he thinks, but there is a part of him that still yearns for those days, and the company he'd kept.]

To have begun at such a young age, you must have always envisioned yourself a knight. In that, you are fortunate; I do not know of many who are so certain of their paths.

[To have that kind of confidence, even so young... it doesn't sound as though service was an inescapable path, but a choice, though if she remembers little before, it would be hard to say.]

Perhaps, then, instead of trying to discover who you were once before, this is an opportunity to explore what else you might be— in addition to a knight, rather than instead, for I believe that will ever be in your heart.

[roseofmay]

[...He is every bit of a lord that Beatrix would expect. Not that she can claim she has really met many. (Or any, most likely.) But he sounds like every lord that gets spoken of at galas and fancy to-dos that she wants very little to do with. Moves like one. Obviously knows what he's doing. He might as well be a professional. And Beatrix is just...

Beatrix is just Beatrix. How very impressive.

His words are heavier than he likely means for them to be. Or maybe it's intentional. It's not like she can tell for certain without asking and she has very little intention of doing that. But she wonders if she would consider herself 'fortunate' at all. If she hadn't been a knight, Beatrix supposes she might have like any other girl who wanted to serve the queen as a lady-in-waiting or something like that. A life of cross-stitching and diplomatic conversations where she pretended to be interested in other people when she... wasn't.

Courtly sorts can sometimes be awful. Not all of them. But enough that Beatrix evidently isn't real fond of how they handle their dealings. In the end, she decides not to address anything about her so-called good fortune. He can think what he will of it.]

You sound like other people I know here when you say nonsense like that. [Beatrix shakes her head at him.] I am not going to be here infinitely. It would be foolish to play at something I am not only to go back to a world where I have expectations to live up to. Trying to be something more in addition to a knight? There is no room for that in my responsibilities. I refuse to live my life in such a way where I am entertaining the notion of some pretend lifestyle.

[menancia]

[Her response does earn a furrowed brow in reply, though he does not miss a single beat even so, leading her effortlessly through the courtyard, finding that conversation does little to impede his ability to follow rhythm. Music moves through him as it always has, even the soft strains that reach them here; the steps come to him as easily as breathing, allowing him to focus on what it is she says.]

Are you a knight here, without your royal family to serve?

[The question is a simple one, his tone light as he offers it.]

As I said, you will ever be a knight in your heart, regardless of where you are, but here, apart from your duty, what harm is there in allowing yourself to enjoy something more? I do not suggest neglect, nor do I suggest complacency; your duty will await you just the same when the time comes to return, just as my responsibilities await me. Still, to remain closed off in this place, rigid and unwilling to experience something beyond our respective stations... it seems a wasted opportunity.

[And, to be quite frank, rather lonely, the way Beatrix has chosen to approach things. Somehow, he manages to say all that without adopting a lecturing tone; he merely muses aloud, as though these things were no more than passing thoughts, nowhere near as pointed as they might be otherwise.]

[roseofmay]

[With their conversation in mind, Beatrix can almost pretend that she isn't being led around all over the place and playing the part of a lady in a dance. Or in whatever theatrical nightmare she's currently existing in. One thing to be watching theatre. Quite another to be playing a role—even as an extra. She notes to leave this kind of thing, in the future, to the professionals.

She isn't very good at acting. At least, not in the way she thinks she is.

Alexandria's general feels a great deal of annoyance at his input. There's plenty of harm in it, really. Suppose she ever got accustomed to being more open and actually amicable? Supposed people came to believe that she is likeable to some degree? Going back to Alexandria undoes all of that. Because it has to. That's the way it has to be.

She scowls. As if you understand. As if you ever could. Presumptuous of her, but all the same entirely too much like her.]

I believe I experience plenty here. [Beatrix finally manages to argue post the pursing of her lips.] Plenty of things I would otherwise be very content not to. The noctaere, for one. Things like— [She lifts a hand from him very briefly, only long enough to gesture around them, before it settles back to him.] —this, for another. The whole concept of just being here is experience enough, I should think. I do not belong in a place like this one. I belong where I am of the most value, because you know, you are right. I am not much of a knight, of a general here, without Her Majesty or Her Highness here.

[And it's just about killing her.]

[menancia]

[And there it is, the very thing that he suspects has been weighing on her all along. If her harsh tone bothers him, it does not show, though his gaze is thoughtful where it peeks through his mask.]

That troubles you.

[Hardly a revelation to her, he imagines, but he wonders if she's said it aloud before now.]

We are all of us out of place. None of us belong— but it is more than that for you. Without your purpose, you are lost.

[Has he got that right?]

[roseofmay]

["Without your purpose, you are lost."

Beatrix has thought it many times since her arrival. She has easily arrived at that conclusion without much contemplation needed to reach it. She's aware of her stance on things. She knows that she has struggled deeply not having Brahne or Garnet to look to.

Her purpose. It's a very heavy word to describe who she is. What she does. What she's been doing for over ten years of her life. The life she's lived that has been defining in most every aspect.

It's one thing to think about. It's another to hear. Whether from herself or another. Hearing it from Dohalim. Her insides wash with cold.]

How dare you.

[Her response is telling, she suspects. As much as the rest of what she's had to say. He's a clever man. He can put the pieces together easily, despite the way she's attempted to keep him in his own lane and very much out of hers. Something she's evidently failed to do.

Her hand lifts from his shoulder and as her expression sharpens, twists and turns, she draws it on him.]

[menancia]

[It is not the response he had expected, but his reflexes do not fail him all the same.

One hand shoots upwards, gently catching against her wrist just before her hand can connect with his face, his fingers curling carefully against it as his expression softens into something apologetic behind his mask.

A step too far, it would seem.]

I apologize.

[His voice has softened as well, bearing a note of humility.]

That was presumptuous of me. Though I meant it as a friendly observation, I realize I have overstepped, and for that, I am sorry.

[It is genuine, his apology, his brow knit with worry.]

Please. Let us speak no more of this. The fault is mine.

[roseofmay]

[He catches her before she can even make contact. Aside from the few times that Garnet has hugged her, or perhaps, held her hand in times of fear, uncertainty, and doubt, Beatrix can't remember the last time anyone has ever touched her. A spar, she decides easily enough, doesn't count. In Alexandria, it's too brazen for anyone to do such a thing. Chances are, Beatrix would run through most anyone who actually made the attempt.

His hold, however, it meticulous and careful. Almost tender. Her hand tenses for so moments, the flood of uncertainty coursing along her. His words are ones that she hears plainly, as quiet as they are, resting just above the very prominent thump of her pulse.

She colours and heat spreads right over her and for those several breaths as she pieces together what exactly has happened, she can only stare at him. What is that feeling? The one that compels her to draw back so completely that she might never show herself again? Realisation, she thinks. Eustace's words in her head. Zidane's.]

Let... Let me go.

[The words almost don't drop out of her at all. She knew better all along. It was only the heated response to protect herself. From him, of all things. Just as she does with everyone else.]

[menancia]

[He gives a single nod, his expression unchanging as he releases his hold on her and allows his hand to fall to his side once more. Whether she'll take the opportunity to make another attempt, he does not know, but he cannot ignore the spread of color across her cheeks. Anger, perhaps, directed at him for his breach of her boundaries, or perhaps at herself for losing composure for even a fraction of a moment. That it might be something else entirely never occurs to him.]

Of course.

[He exhales, his shoulders dropping as his demeanor remains contrite, apologetic.]

Perhaps we ought to part ways for now.

[He is not necessarily eager to, but he can understand if she no longer wishes to speak to him. He has a scene to get to sooner rather than later, as well, but he would rather not leave this entirely unresolved.]

[roseofmay]

[She makes absolutely no move to strike him once more. On the contrary, when he releases her as carefully as he does, she draws her gaze aside, and with her other hand, she draws her touch over the place where it still feels like his touch lingers. She wonders for just a moment, if that's how all touches are. It must be. Sometimes she thinks she can always feel every moment Garnet has ever hugged her or held her hand. It's a different feeling.

Beatrix says nothing for several long moments and allows his words to permeate the silence that otherwise would sit betwixt them. Finally, she shifts, as if she means to move past him and she pauses at his side, turning her head just enough to eye his shoulder and what details of his mask she can make out.]

It is nothing personal. [She begins quietly. Carefully.] My reaction was uncalled for. Just because I do not want to hear the truth does not mean I do not need to.

[Her head tips, and after a breath, Beatrix continues.] You were not wrong in what you said. In this place, I have lost my purpose. Rather, it was never provided to me to begin with. Keep that between us. I have a reputation to maintain.

[menancia]

[For but a moment, he appears surprised by her concession— it is not an apology, which he neither is owed nor expects, but it is an admission all the same, and he already knows she is not the type to offer such easily.]

Some truths are difficult to accept— I know this well, and should have known better.

[Though it had not been meant as a barb, it's hardly the first time he's mused something aloud and not considered the consequences or his audience.]

Of course, I shall say nothing. Your business is your own, and I would not dream of repeating any of what has been said here, regardless of its import. To do so would be dishonorable.

[roseofmay]

I have called you a fool many times, though it was not as a person. Only that you believed in foolish ideals. It has occurred to me more than once that such is an important distinction to make. You are not a fool at all.

[Keeping her eye on him, she simply takes him in curiously.]

Optimistic, but not a fool.

[For some moments, she considers that he's wise enough to know not to provoke her fury. Normally, she'd threaten him. Remind him that if he spoke her secrets, of the things she kept so close to her, she'd simply cut him down. For whatever reason, this particular time, this particular moment, she decides not to.]

Now, it would seem that I must think of you as honourable as well.

[menancia]

[There is something about her tone that makes him question whether or not that is something he should be pleased to hear— Beatrix has a way of sounding put-upon in so many situations, especially those that include conceding that she might not entirely dislike the company of others.]

I believe that may well be a compliment.

[A faint smile flickers across his lips. From her, it's practically a glowing review.]

I will accept it gladly. I am heartened to know you think well of me— or have come dangerously close to doing so.

[roseofmay]

[Her initial breath is a scoff. A compliment. Although he's not necessarily wrong. She supposes, in some way, on some level, it was a compliment. She also supposes, at least to herself, that she actually has quite a few complimentary things to say about him.

How absolutely annoying.

She feels just a touch more irritated at the curve in his mouth.]

Must you say it like that? [Beatrix finally concedes with a sigh.] Take it as you will, but please try not to embarrass me. I am capable of saying things that are not... absolutely unkind. I simply decline from making a habit of it.