[He didn't have words either, when Sturmhond gave this place to him.
He hasn't had words for awhile, for the kindness Kenzi has shown him. Her generosity in spirit, in bed, with her kisses and her stories. He still doesn't have them. He's always liked reading-- a gift that Cassidy gave him, but knowing the painful complexities of one's own heart turns in a completely different universe, for him. He looks at her now, and his heart shifts in his chest. He can feel it. It's almost painful. He closes his hands around her heart-shaped face, and wishes that he could touch her pale skin and dark hair somehow reach into the mysterious sea of her thoughts, like the so-called God's fingers of sunlight array through the latticed surface of the ocean. It would be a fine thing, wouldn't it? To know and be known completely.
But this is a close second. As close to perfect as he knows to be, just yet. He stoops down, his braid swinging against her jaw, a featherweight pendulum that's familiar to her by now. He kisses her, thoroughly, his mouth interlocking with the soft and perfect shape of her painted lips. When he grew up poor in Bristol, the ugly city and its hard winters, he thought the countryside meant rich food, live parents, and drinking from flowers. This is almost like that. The last part, anyway.
He straightens again, relaxing his fingers from around her dainty chin. Setting her hair back even around her shoulders.] Happy Valentine's Day, Kenzi. I'm glad to bewilder you. And better yet, to know you.
[ When the kiss ends, she probably looks quite comical, daze and dopey, like an exaggeration of what someone would look like after being kissed. Except that's her reality, that kiss was something else and it leaves Kenzi reeling in the best way. Drinking from flowers, basking in sunlight, affection reciprocated. He doesn't seem to want something from her and she's only just getting used to the fact that love, in its many forms, isn't just some long con.
Her fingers stay curled against his back, her fiercely blue eyes shining brightly as she looks up at him, feeling something she didn't think she'd let herself feel again after everything with Nate.
He speaks and she laughs low at what he says, lips curved in a mix of something sheepish and amused.] Congrats, you've officially wooed me. [ She places a quick kiss to his lips again.] This is me swooning. [ All teasing aside, she lets her hand move to smooth out his jacket and touch his braid, as she sorts the words on her tongue.]
I... I didn't expect to find someone like you but I'm glad I'm wrong. [ She wraps the braid around her finger for a moment, like she's done so many times in the past.] Thanks for giving me the perfect first Valentine's Day ever. [ Because let's be real, Kenzi's never had anything close to a real Valentine's Day, nor did she want one. Until now.]
whispers look at my pretty icons ... i need to rename them fff
[He did. Didn't he? There's a bizarre moment when he realizes she's right, that the glove fits. He wooed her, despite that the last woman he ever pursued in that way was one he lost forever. But he had been more cautious then as well. And considerably less wealthy, he has to say. Mind you, he doesn't think that's what's got Kenzi's attention now, of course. She obviously covets extravagant shoes and pretty dresses, but she doesn't look at the Aerie and see the promise of such profit.
No. She isn't even looking at the Aerie at all, at the moment. She's looking at him. His braid fits perfectly around her finger, a spiral as neat as Christmas candy.]
I didn't expect to find someone like you, either, [he says.] We haven't really got the words to describe you, in my time. But being faerie's got nothing to do with it. [He smiles and he means it, the way it goes all the way up to his eyes. The pirate tilts his head, a slight and painless tug of movement against the hair she's got her hold on.] You're welcome. Will you be staying for lunch?
[ For all that Kenzi can be materialistic and distracted by shiny things, Kenzi doesn't require the finer things in life to be happy. In fact, most of her life has been spent struggling to get those things but being fairly content to live in less than stellar conditions. She wasn't living in rags, oh no, but she wasn't Scrooge McDuck-ing into piles of gold coins.
Kenzi also isn't in denial, she isn't the sort to say that money can't buy you happiness, because, yes, yes it can. It just doesn't buy you all the happiness. A pair of expensive shoes or a dress that costs more than a car may always thrill her but those were only things. She may covet nice things because she lacked them for so long but they are not essential to her complete happiness. They're just like the sprinkles on top.]
I'm not a fairy yet, [ she reminds him with a gentle smile, clearly touched by his words. She gives his braid a tiny tug as he beckoned her to, it seems. She unwinds the hair from her finger and laughs a little, head rolling some in jest at his ridiculous question.] You know moi, have I ever been one to turn down a meal? [ The answer is no. For such a tiny person, the girl can eat as much as a man triple her size.] Feed me, Seymour. [ She takes a beat.] Musical reference.
[Taraaa. Now Barclay will usher to her chair, pull it out for her. Wait for her to place her petite person in said chair, and then tuck it back in under the chair. Once she's on her own feet, it's quite apparent that the floor underfoot would have gone very poorly with stilettos and most of her usually footwear. It's that gridded metal stuff, with the little holes, that would have easily caught her feet and sent her tumbling.
He'd been planning this for awhile.
He's sitting across from her in a moment, sittling on his side of the tiny table. he picks up the pitcher of red berry juice and offers to pour her some, on a little jiggle of a gesture.] I've yet to watch any musicals. Those are the shows-- the plays with loads of singing, right? Live actors and such. Which one's got Seymour?
[ She gets settled in her chair as he does the same, feeling quite smug about this whole arrangement. She'll give him his gift in a moment. For now, she's distracted by the offer of a drink, to which she accepts with a nod and then by the mention of musicals.]
Those are the ones. And Seymour is in Little Shop of Horrors. [ she pauses.] I honestly haven't seen the movie of it since I was young but it's hard to forget a giant man-eating plant. [ She smiles at him warmly, anticipating his reaction.] Musicals are weird.
[ While he pours, she reaches into her coat pocket before she sheds it and lets it hang on the back of the chair. In her hand is soon is a pouch, wrapped with a blue ribbon which hands him. And inside is something like looks like a pocket watch but is, in fact, a sundial and a compass combined with an engraved message:
To Barclay, With the deepest affection, Kenzi
Perhaps the message may make him laugh for how formal it is but that's the point, it's Kenzi being playful and somehow sweet at the same time. She wanted him to know she cares for him, a lot but at the same time have something that he could take back home. It's not like she could put something bawdy like Hells yeah, happy v-day. I love your dick. ]
[Technically, she could have. She could have put a tiny pink cat-shaped eraser in and made a pussy joke. She could have given him a gift card to a grocery store. But she didn't, and as he opens the pouch, curious, takes out the burnished metal object in a hand, weighs it, looks at her, looks at it, then opens it slowly, it's clear that he hadn't expected something like this. If he'd expected anything at all.
He can't be surprised that she's experienced and generous with gift giving, but best surprised anyway. he stares into the sun dial, glances over into the compass. turns himself, a little to watch the needle spin itself, ever pointing north.
Part of him wonders for a moment, irrationally, that if he goes home, whether it might lead him back to here. This moment, this place. Irrational. Or only in memory. It'll be good enough.] I love it very much, [he says, once he can say anything again. His voice is scratchy. Eudio has made him soft, like it made Cassidy soft. Like he'd been soft when he was a child, Cassidy thieving rolls for him from the dinner table. Gifts make you soft. And he'll kill anyone who tries to take this one from him.]
[ She watches him open the gift with anticipation, at first leaned back in her chair before she leans forward and rests her face into her hands, elbows on the table. Kenzi's manners usually and probably leave something to be desired. And she smiles at him just before he opens it, lips curling into something impish as she waits for him to figure out what it is, to read the message.]
I promise I didn't steal it, [ she says with a self-satisfied smile as she watches him test the compass out, sighing happily as he says that he loves it. ]
You're welcome. [ She gives him a little bit of herself as she speaks again--] I never got to give people gifts. Real gifts. That weren't stolen before. [ She earned the money for that, at least kind of. It wasn't the most legit job, shopping for Vex but it was a job and he paid her for it. And thus, she paid for this compass with her earnings. I
It felt good. And it felt better to make him sound that way.]
Honestly, didn't occur to me for, [a beat.] More than a second.
[He's being funny. But he didn't honestly think she would've stolen it. Partly because of law and consideration and wanting this to be true and special and lovely, both the pragmatics and the principle. But mostly, he thought, because of the place where principle and pragmatics meet one another; not wanting to risk the possibility that her gift from the heart could excusably be taken away. Honestly, he'dve thought it was funny if she'd pinched it, as surely it is nothing a shopkeeper can't spare. But he wouldn't have liked to lose it.
And now it's his. All his own. The second real gift he's received in Eudio, and it touches his heart in a way that Cassidy could have done done before. In a way that Cassidy perhaps prepared him for, starting to heal the ugly old wound of guilt and betrayal.]
Well now you seem to be an old hand at it in your new life, [he observes.] This will guide me true. And I'm always in dire need of that, you know.
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no subject
He hasn't had words for awhile, for the kindness Kenzi has shown him. Her generosity in spirit, in bed, with her kisses and her stories. He still doesn't have them. He's always liked reading-- a gift that Cassidy gave him, but knowing the painful complexities of one's own heart turns in a completely different universe, for him. He looks at her now, and his heart shifts in his chest. He can feel it. It's almost painful. He closes his hands around her heart-shaped face, and wishes that he could touch her pale skin and dark hair somehow reach into the mysterious sea of her thoughts, like the so-called God's fingers of sunlight array through the latticed surface of the ocean. It would be a fine thing, wouldn't it? To know and be known completely.
But this is a close second. As close to perfect as he knows to be, just yet. He stoops down, his braid swinging against her jaw, a featherweight pendulum that's familiar to her by now. He kisses her, thoroughly, his mouth interlocking with the soft and perfect shape of her painted lips. When he grew up poor in Bristol, the ugly city and its hard winters, he thought the countryside meant rich food, live parents, and drinking from flowers. This is almost like that. The last part, anyway.
He straightens again, relaxing his fingers from around her dainty chin. Setting her hair back even around her shoulders.] Happy Valentine's Day, Kenzi. I'm glad to bewilder you. And better yet, to know you.
no subject
Her fingers stay curled against his back, her fiercely blue eyes shining brightly as she looks up at him, feeling something she didn't think she'd let herself feel again after everything with Nate.
He speaks and she laughs low at what he says, lips curved in a mix of something sheepish and amused.] Congrats, you've officially wooed me. [ She places a quick kiss to his lips again.] This is me swooning. [ All teasing aside, she lets her hand move to smooth out his jacket and touch his braid, as she sorts the words on her tongue.]
I... I didn't expect to find someone like you but I'm glad I'm wrong. [ She wraps the braid around her finger for a moment, like she's done so many times in the past.] Thanks for giving me the perfect first Valentine's Day ever. [ Because let's be real, Kenzi's never had anything close to a real Valentine's Day, nor did she want one. Until now.]
whispers look at my pretty icons ... i need to rename them fff
No. She isn't even looking at the Aerie at all, at the moment. She's looking at him. His braid fits perfectly around her finger, a spiral as neat as Christmas candy.]
I didn't expect to find someone like you, either, [he says.] We haven't really got the words to describe you, in my time. But being faerie's got nothing to do with it. [He smiles and he means it, the way it goes all the way up to his eyes. The pirate tilts his head, a slight and painless tug of movement against the hair she's got her hold on.] You're welcome. Will you be staying for lunch?
omg yayyy
Kenzi also isn't in denial, she isn't the sort to say that money can't buy you happiness, because, yes, yes it can. It just doesn't buy you all the happiness. A pair of expensive shoes or a dress that costs more than a car may always thrill her but those were only things. She may covet nice things because she lacked them for so long but they are not essential to her complete happiness. They're just like the sprinkles on top.]
I'm not a fairy yet, [ she reminds him with a gentle smile, clearly touched by his words. She gives his braid a tiny tug as he beckoned her to, it seems. She unwinds the hair from her finger and laughs a little, head rolling some in jest at his ridiculous question.] You know moi, have I ever been one to turn down a meal? [ The answer is no. For such a tiny person, the girl can eat as much as a man triple her size.] Feed me, Seymour. [ She takes a beat.] Musical reference.
no subject
He'd been planning this for awhile.
He's sitting across from her in a moment, sittling on his side of the tiny table. he picks up the pitcher of red berry juice and offers to pour her some, on a little jiggle of a gesture.] I've yet to watch any musicals. Those are the shows-- the plays with loads of singing, right? Live actors and such. Which one's got Seymour?
no subject
Those are the ones. And Seymour is in Little Shop of Horrors. [ she pauses.] I honestly haven't seen the movie of it since I was young but it's hard to forget a giant man-eating plant. [ She smiles at him warmly, anticipating his reaction.] Musicals are weird.
[ While he pours, she reaches into her coat pocket before she sheds it and lets it hang on the back of the chair. In her hand is soon is a pouch, wrapped with a blue ribbon which hands him. And inside is something like looks like a pocket watch but is, in fact, a sundial and a compass combined with an engraved message:
To Barclay,
With the deepest affection,
Kenzi
Perhaps the message may make him laugh for how formal it is but that's the point, it's Kenzi being playful and somehow sweet at the same time. She wanted him to know she cares for him, a lot but at the same time have something that he could take back home. It's not like she could put something bawdy like Hells yeah, happy v-day. I love your dick. ]
SCREAMS I LOVE THIS
He can't be surprised that she's experienced and generous with gift giving, but best surprised anyway. he stares into the sun dial, glances over into the compass. turns himself, a little to watch the needle spin itself, ever pointing north.
Part of him wonders for a moment, irrationally, that if he goes home, whether it might lead him back to here. This moment, this place. Irrational. Or only in memory. It'll be good enough.] I love it very much, [he says, once he can say anything again. His voice is scratchy. Eudio has made him soft, like it made Cassidy soft. Like he'd been soft when he was a child, Cassidy thieving rolls for him from the dinner table. Gifts make you soft. And he'll kill anyone who tries to take this one from him.]
Thank you, Kenzi.
<3
I promise I didn't steal it, [ she says with a self-satisfied smile as she watches him test the compass out, sighing happily as he says that he loves it. ]
You're welcome. [ She gives him a little bit of herself as she speaks again--] I never got to give people gifts. Real gifts. That weren't stolen before. [ She earned the money for that, at least kind of. It wasn't the most legit job, shopping for Vex but it was a job and he paid her for it. And thus, she paid for this compass with her earnings. I
It felt good. And it felt better to make him sound that way.]
no subject
[He's being funny. But he didn't honestly think she would've stolen it. Partly because of law and consideration and wanting this to be true and special and lovely, both the pragmatics and the principle. But mostly, he thought, because of the place where principle and pragmatics meet one another; not wanting to risk the possibility that her gift from the heart could excusably be taken away. Honestly, he'dve thought it was funny if she'd pinched it, as surely it is nothing a shopkeeper can't spare. But he wouldn't have liked to lose it.
And now it's his. All his own. The second real gift he's received in Eudio, and it touches his heart in a way that Cassidy could have done done before. In a way that Cassidy perhaps prepared him for, starting to heal the ugly old wound of guilt and betrayal.]
Well now you seem to be an old hand at it in your new life, [he observes.] This will guide me true. And I'm always in dire need of that, you know.