[She has no idea of what he'd like to do, but at least she can find his place easy enough, and they can ensure that they...well. Listen to music? Read a new book? She has no idea what Collins has in mind. But she'll knock when she gets there, and wait.]
[He took the time to send her his laugh, pleased by her assurance that she was still playing it smart. Teasing him about his insistence, really. He liked that.]
Good.
[When she arrives it's not long before he comes out of his room, greeting her with a small smile and a tip of his hat.]
[He let her have that. A better image of him than the truth.
He led her into the library and began to head deep inside through the maze-like interior. It was easy to get lost with the path he took but he seemed to feel assured where he was going like it was a well-worn path. It was quiet, isolated.]
[Some things were better not to guess about. She smiled up at him, and walked with him, as they got further and further into the library. She was reminded of the last time they were in the library together and...
her grip tightens a little on her staff. She has to wonder if they're going to revisit what happened before. But...why he would, she doesn't know.
[It was nowhere near where their last encounter in the library occurred. There were quiet rooms in the back recesses. Most of them were in groups near each other, but Collins liked the stowaways best. They were meant for study. Collins used them for peaceful solitude.
He took her down a narrow passage with books crowding close on both sides. They couldn't walk side by side then so he took her by the hand instead. At the end he had to duck beneath the oddly low ceiling. He opened the door and stepped inside.
It was much more cozy here. The room was of proper height and it was of comfortable space for two or four individuals to gather round and study or practice without stepping on each other's toes. There were chairs and a table in the middle and various instruments to play media of all types on to the side. There were scrapes of colored paper stacked on the table and a few folded pieces of art. Collins had been here before.
[She was surprised. It was a nice little place to be away from everyone else. The narrow passage, she had to be careful in getting into, careful with holding her staff just so in order for it to keep from getting stuck but- it was manageable. They were both rather small people, so it helped.
It's comfortable here. And it looked like...this was a place away from everyone else. A study room just for him. The various forms where he could watch and listen, and the paper...Hanna's influence, she thought.
She took a few moments to absorb it, before turning to Collins.]
The only thing I don't see is a place for the stoat.
[Which, she assumes, is some sort of drawer tucked away.]
[And if there was a little nest for the stoat around here somewhere it was tucked indeed away neatly for the moment. Everything was free reign though just like in his cabin room.
[She giggles softly, and moves to sit down, setting her staff across her lap. This is a lovely room but...he's never called her here before. And it was a nice little place. And...she has to wonder.]
Collins, I'm glad you've brought me here. Is there...some sort of song you want me to hear, that you didn't want to hear in your cabin?
[Ah. He would have realized something was wrong, wouldn't he? She stared back at him, looking surprised for a few moments, her lips parted.
He observed his people, his prey closely. And she was...not doing well. She was hiding it well, she thought, feeling as tired as she was from everything.
But even as he leaned forward, she offered a little smile, the expression not reaching her eyes.]
I'm okay. What makes you say something is wrong? I don't think I've been anything but normal.
[Like a wolf watching a doe fall ill and stumble upon the path- That was Collins's cold calculating gaze. He saw the prey desperately hide the illness from sight, as all prey must do lest a predator see it, but still he saw it. She could only hide so much from him.
But, he could only glean so much from afar. Now he kept her close so that he could see more.
And she was too close to full him with that smile, those sad eyes.]
I didn't say that anything was wrong. [But you did.] But then there is, isn't there. That's what has you so distracted of late.
Yer so good at bein' cheerful, petal. Especially when someone is watchin'. But lately, when ya think no one sees, you go quiet, still. Tha music stops. [He tapped his fingers on the table, a steady beat- and then it slowed, stopped. Silence.] It ain't that yer never quiet or thoughtful, lass. It's that even in those moments tha light still shines bright in you and tha joy is never far gone. There's always just...somethin' there even in tha worst of times.
[Even when facing down a murderer or supporting a fallen friend. There was just something indescribable, something that was always there that made Aerith seem so...unconquerable. Bright. Full of life.
It pained him to see that light dwindled and in pain.]
You seem sad, melancholy. It's like tha light has faded...and tha joy is just a pale imitation of what it used ta be. Something's weighing you down.
Maybe I'm wrong. I would like ta be wrong. But I also don't want ta ignore it, ignore you when it matters.
[He held out his hand in a gesture to encourage her to talk to him.]
[Ah. That was a slip up. There was something that could be used to dismiss him as simply a killer. But no. Collins was an intelligent man. Observant. Likely watching her eyes up close to see how tired they were; saw the dirt under her nails from working in the Greenhouse, not yet cleaned out from coming to see him in earnest.
She had forgotten, or missed how much he watched her on the Narrenschiff. There was no reason why he wouldn't keep an eye on her on the Barge for peace of mind.
Or to translate what he observed into her song. The one she did not know the beat to in her mind. But he did.
Her eyes closed the once, and she took a few moments to fuss over her necklace. Just making sure it laid just so against her throat.]
I still have joy. That's always there, especially with the flowers. There's so many now, and the winterizing has gone great.
[Her hand moved to rest once more against her staff, and she sighed.]
I'm a little tired lately. Maybe I need to get more sleep, or exercise more? Or maybe just ill.
Think there can be something like Barge flu?
[Usually there is a lilt in her voice an invitation to call it silly and nonsense. A normal tactic.
But it's a distraction this time. One she usually pulls off with more grace. Maybe she is coming down with something. But while he's invited her to share...well.
[He watched her reaction carefully. His eyes lingered on her throat for a moment, taking in the sight of the necklace, noting how she fidgeted with it.]
I'm sure the flowers are wonderful and distractin'. They keep you busy.
[He gently called her out on that. He had no doubt they brought her joy, but right now it was short lived. It was more of a distraction from everything else, he thought.]
I think the population of the Barge doesn't often get sick. And I also think that maybe yer prevaricatin' ta keep from sayin' anything meanin'ful. It don't quite have yer usual ring to it today, petal.
Granted, maybe you are just tired lately. It's a wonder we're not all just exceedingly tired all tha time with tha way things go here. Perhaps you ought ta get more sleep.
Hmm. Or you could talk about what's keepin' you up at night and makin' you so tired durin' tha day. [He said pointedly.]
[It was lovely in the Greenhouse. Beautiful and she worked hard there. She felt like she kept working there, and other places, and just...kept pushing. Florian was right, in her having a pressure of the Barge of being emotional support.
And it kept getting bigger and bigger.
She closed her eyes briefly, before taking in a deep breath.]
Maybe I do need to get more sleep.
[She offered him a small smile. He was trying to be gentle, trying to kind.
And she didn't know how to offer how to talk about it.]
I don't know. This...isn't something I can talk about. Not really.
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[She's teasing gently. It's funny, considering. She's spending time where it has a lot of fresh air.]
Want to meet in front of your cabin then?
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[Ahem. He had considered offering that for her sake. But perhaps it was too public. He thought a quieter, more private area would be better.]
Certainly.
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And...yes, I'll bring my staff.
[She has no idea of what he'd like to do, but at least she can find his place easy enough, and they can ensure that they...well. Listen to music? Read a new book? She has no idea what Collins has in mind. But she'll knock when she gets there, and wait.]
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Good.
[When she arrives it's not long before he comes out of his room, greeting her with a small smile and a tip of his hat.]
Good evening, petal. Thanks fer comin'.
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[She offers him a smile and a dip of her head. And as promised, she has her staff with her, held in one hand and dipped down.]
Though I think this is the first time I've been invited to the library.
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Hope it's not too borin' fer ya. Do me a favor once more... accompany me tha old fashioned way?
[He held out his arm for her to take to walk hand in arm together.]
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[She chuckles and makes to take his arm, like he wants. She doesn't mind at all.]
I just tend to use it to learn about flowers...and read Alex Casey books. Sometimes for recipes.
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You've read those books? What did you think of them?
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Or at least putting things into context. Have you read them?
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[But he kept his smile in place despite his light eye roll.]
Aye, I did. I enjoy detective novels. [Funnily enough.] I enjoy crime more.
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[She giggled quietly, and gently squeezed his arm.]
I wouldn't think of it of you reading about your profession. Or reading about crime as a way to get tips.
Guess it's a little like me and garden magazines.
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Something like that.
[He let her have that. A better image of him than the truth.
He led her into the library and began to head deep inside through the maze-like interior. It was easy to get lost with the path he took but he seemed to feel assured where he was going like it was a well-worn path. It was quiet, isolated.]
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her grip tightens a little on her staff. She has to wonder if they're going to revisit what happened before. But...why he would, she doesn't know.
They'll have to see.]
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He took her down a narrow passage with books crowding close on both sides. They couldn't walk side by side then so he took her by the hand instead. At the end he had to duck beneath the oddly low ceiling. He opened the door and stepped inside.
It was much more cozy here. The room was of proper height and it was of comfortable space for two or four individuals to gather round and study or practice without stepping on each other's toes. There were chairs and a table in the middle and various instruments to play media of all types on to the side. There were scrapes of colored paper stacked on the table and a few folded pieces of art. Collins had been here before.
It was a little private getaway.]
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It's comfortable here. And it looked like...this was a place away from everyone else. A study room just for him. The various forms where he could watch and listen, and the paper...Hanna's influence, she thought.
She took a few moments to absorb it, before turning to Collins.]
The only thing I don't see is a place for the stoat.
[Which, she assumes, is some sort of drawer tucked away.]
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He's happy anywhere so long as he's free.
[And if there was a little nest for the stoat around here somewhere it was tucked indeed away neatly for the moment. Everything was free reign though just like in his cabin room.
Collins waved a hand in the air.]
Have a seat. Get comfortable.
[He moved to do so himself.]
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[She giggles softly, and moves to sit down, setting her staff across her lap. This is a lovely room but...he's never called her here before. And it was a nice little place. And...she has to wonder.]
Collins, I'm glad you've brought me here. Is there...some sort of song you want me to hear, that you didn't want to hear in your cabin?
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Would you like me to put on a song?
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I love the music but...I wouldn't want to get distracted.
[She's sure there's a reason why she's here.]
Maybe after? Unless you just wanted a chill time without me working? Or distracted by flowers?
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Aye, something like that.
[Collins regarded her for a little bit in silence. His eyes searched deep.
Then he moved his chair closer and leaned forward over the table towards her.]
Are you doin' all right, petal?
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He observed his people, his prey closely. And she was...not doing well. She was hiding it well, she thought, feeling as tired as she was from everything.
But even as he leaned forward, she offered a little smile, the expression not reaching her eyes.]
I'm okay. What makes you say something is wrong? I don't think I've been anything but normal.
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That was Collins's cold calculating gaze. He saw the prey desperately hide the illness from sight, as all prey must do lest a predator see it, but still he saw it. She could only hide so much from him.
But, he could only glean so much from afar. Now he kept her close so that he could see more.
And she was too close to full him with that smile, those sad eyes.]
I didn't say that anything was wrong. [But you did.] But then there is, isn't there. That's what has you so distracted of late.
Yer so good at bein' cheerful, petal. Especially when someone is watchin'. But lately, when ya think no one sees, you go quiet, still. Tha music stops. [He tapped his fingers on the table, a steady beat- and then it slowed, stopped. Silence.] It ain't that yer never quiet or thoughtful, lass. It's that even in those moments tha light still shines bright in you and tha joy is never far gone. There's always just...somethin' there even in tha worst of times.
[Even when facing down a murderer or supporting a fallen friend. There was just something indescribable, something that was always there that made Aerith seem so...unconquerable. Bright. Full of life.
It pained him to see that light dwindled and in pain.]
You seem sad, melancholy. It's like tha light has faded...and tha joy is just a pale imitation of what it used ta be. Something's weighing you down.
Maybe I'm wrong. I would like ta be wrong. But I also don't want ta ignore it, ignore you when it matters.
[He held out his hand in a gesture to encourage her to talk to him.]
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She had forgotten, or missed how much he watched her on the Narrenschiff. There was no reason why he wouldn't keep an eye on her on the Barge for peace of mind.
Or to translate what he observed into her song. The one she did not know the beat to in her mind. But he did.
Her eyes closed the once, and she took a few moments to fuss over her necklace. Just making sure it laid just so against her throat.]
I still have joy. That's always there, especially with the flowers. There's so many now, and the winterizing has gone great.
[Her hand moved to rest once more against her staff, and she sighed.]
I'm a little tired lately. Maybe I need to get more sleep, or exercise more? Or maybe just ill.
Think there can be something like Barge flu?
[Usually there is a lilt in her voice an invitation to call it silly and nonsense. A normal tactic.
But it's a distraction this time. One she usually pulls off with more grace. Maybe she is coming down with something. But while he's invited her to share...well.
Aerith is a stubborn thing.]
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I'm sure the flowers are wonderful and distractin'. They keep you busy.
[He gently called her out on that. He had no doubt they brought her joy, but right now it was short lived. It was more of a distraction from everything else, he thought.]
I think the population of the Barge doesn't often get sick. And I also think that maybe yer prevaricatin' ta keep from sayin' anything meanin'ful. It don't quite have yer usual ring to it today, petal.
Granted, maybe you are just tired lately. It's a wonder we're not all just exceedingly tired all tha time with tha way things go here. Perhaps you ought ta get more sleep.
Hmm. Or you could talk about what's keepin' you up at night and makin' you so tired durin' tha day. [He said pointedly.]
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[It was lovely in the Greenhouse. Beautiful and she worked hard there. She felt like she kept working there, and other places, and just...kept pushing. Florian was right, in her having a pressure of the Barge of being emotional support.
And it kept getting bigger and bigger.
She closed her eyes briefly, before taking in a deep breath.]
Maybe I do need to get more sleep.
[She offered him a small smile. He was trying to be gentle, trying to kind.
And she didn't know how to offer how to talk about it.]
I don't know. This...isn't something I can talk about. Not really.
Not to anyone.
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last comment to wrap this thread up