Not that I can recall... ironically. [ With a small, huffed-out laugh. ]
The fact that I can't seem to place what I've forgotten might just mean it wasn't very important. But for now, I'd like to acknowledge what I do remember... perhaps it might help later.
[He doesn't appear to share her sentiment about nostalgia, if the crease in his brow is any indication.
Still, after a moment's consideration he walks over to join her at the indicated space. Rupe settles down next to him on the side opposite of Dorothy.]
It wasn't far. We were already here when he wandered.
[ Dorothy's quiet for a moment, a more pensive hum trapped in her throat until she speaks. ]
I don't really trust these factions-- I was told they're meant to be incentive for nova gathering, but you would think just being able to return home would be more than enough motivation.
Also our importance here is apparently so great that they would all willingly give up all of their memories to guide us? I can't say I understand taking that kind of risk myself.
[ Dorothy releases a noise that's half-sigh and half... well, something along the lines of an unhappy growl, slipping a hand through her hair.
Better to keep it busy than trying to reach out for his hand, like she wants to-- but for once, she exercises restraint. It'd be a shame if he bolted so soon, merely because he doesn't seem to be fond of closeness. ]
Perhaps they consider distrust to be a powerful enough emotion that it's worth trying to stir up. Or, rather, being wary can certainly escalate into stronger emotions.
[He sits with an arm draped over a bent knee, staring down at the grass in front of his feet. It's easier, he finds, if he just doesn't put anyone in his line of sight. She sounds unhappy about something, but that's not important right now.]
Either way, the outcome is bound to be quite unsightly.
He chooses to say nothing to that, which means he's left sitting in the silence and the growing desire to reach out to the voice. It's troublesome, and needy besides. He has to fill the gap with something.]
... [ Another laugh, even quieter. ] Oh, I think most ladies would wish for a handsome gentleman to come sweep them away from the drudgery into a life of adventure and riches.
[ And she could leave it there. She's tempted. But... ]
However, wishes really aren't for me. And you? Does that interest you, having a wish granted?
He glances at her over his shoulder. (Bad move. That put her briefly in his line of sight.) The fingers of his hand that's hanging off his knee curl faintly into his palm, forming a loose fist.]
[ He doesn't seem to be the cavorting type, but... really, she wonders if anyone would believe her, if she told the young ladies she knows about having encountered a demon.
Probably not.
Her eyes flick down to his hand, a more pensive expression entering... though again, she does nothing. Not yet, anyway. Even if he's making it awfully tempting. ]
And your wish would be...? Not my business?
[ Look, she was wary. He's probably wary too. She gets that. ]
[It's not her business. Although he'd ordinarily ask for an incentive to speak, the familiar wave of quiet rage crashes against his cool exterior. He doesn't think—only feel as that loose fist tightens.]
[ Ah. Either she'd touched on a nerve or just the thought of it had pulled something out of him that she hadn't expected to see.
There's a story there, but Dorothy also knows better than most that stories don't tend to get told until they're ready to. So she doesn't ask, merely moves one hand over to lightly cover the one he's clenching.
What a time to want to be affectionate, honestly. ]
Not a very gentlemanly thing to say [ to a lady ] but I agree that it's something you ought to handle yourself.
They might have made a mistake, picking at least two people who don't have wishes to grant.
[His gaze, sharp and fierce, snaps over to Dorothy. The anger in his eyes isn't directed at her, and it churns inside him before dissipating, little by little, the longer he keeps her in his sight. She's no outlet for his wish. His fist loosens and his fingers uncurl beneath her palm.]
If the Realm wants someone with a wish, it was centuries too late.
[ There is definitely a story. And Dorothy has been angry, of course, infuriated at circumstances, but not quite at the level she can read in his eyes.
But slowly, his hand relaxes. She keeps hers there, because she can. ]
[It isn't that long. Like he told her before, he's still young. But, he supposes as he wraps his hand around the back of her head and leans in to lightly press his lips against her forehead, it's a long time for a mortal.
He's not even thinking about his actions. It's all happening amid his thoughts, so when he catches up to the present he lifts his head with a frown.]
[ Dorothy blinks at him, quite honestly caught off-guard. Thankfully, she's seasoned enough not to just press her fingers to her forehead and mull on that.
Instead, she smiles, in direct contrast to that frown of his. ]
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Definitely.]Have you forgotten much?
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The fact that I can't seem to place what I've forgotten might just mean it wasn't very important. But for now, I'd like to acknowledge what I do remember... perhaps it might help later.
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[ Dorothy gazes at him for a moment, then plunks herself down under a tree, patting the space beside her. A girl can try. ]
... And you? Looking for your friend?
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Still, after a moment's consideration he walks over to join her at the indicated space. Rupe settles down next to him on the side opposite of Dorothy.]
It wasn't far. We were already here when he wandered.
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He's rather taciturn, she thinks, but chooses not to point it out-- he's probably heard it before. ]
What is he, exactly? He's very cute.
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[Beating around the bush is inefficient. He doesn't wait.]
What team have you been assigned?
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I'm not so keen on breaking their rules just yet until I know what that might entail.
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What do you make of what we do know?
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I don't really trust these factions-- I was told they're meant to be incentive for nova gathering, but you would think just being able to return home would be more than enough motivation.
Also our importance here is apparently so great that they would all willingly give up all of their memories to guide us? I can't say I understand taking that kind of risk myself.
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Factions breed mistrust. There's most likely something else at play that gains from dividing the masses.
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Better to keep it busy than trying to reach out for his hand, like she wants to-- but for once, she exercises restraint. It'd be a shame if he bolted so soon, merely because he doesn't seem to be fond of closeness. ]
Perhaps they consider distrust to be a powerful enough emotion that it's worth trying to stir up. Or, rather, being wary can certainly escalate into stronger emotions.
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Either way, the outcome is bound to be quite unsightly.
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[ Her hand falls back to her lap after a moment, Dorothy leaning more against the tree she's selected. ]
Surely a demon ought to be used to unsightly things?
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He chooses to say nothing to that, which means he's left sitting in the silence and the growing desire to reach out to the voice. It's troublesome, and needy besides. He has to fill the gap with something.]
. . . Is there a wish you want granted?
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... [ Another laugh, even quieter. ] Oh, I think most ladies would wish for a handsome gentleman to come sweep them away from the drudgery into a life of adventure and riches.
[ And she could leave it there. She's tempted. But... ]
However, wishes really aren't for me. And you? Does that interest you, having a wish granted?
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He glances at her over his shoulder. (Bad move. That put her briefly in his line of sight.) The fingers of his hand that's hanging off his knee curl faintly into his palm, forming a loose fist.]
My wish . . . I can grant it myself.
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Probably not.
Her eyes flick down to his hand, a more pensive expression entering... though again, she does nothing. Not yet, anyway. Even if he's making it awfully tempting. ]
And your wish would be...? Not my business?
[ Look, she was wary. He's probably wary too. She gets that. ]
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[It's not her business. Although he'd ordinarily ask for an incentive to speak, the familiar wave of quiet rage crashes against his cool exterior. He doesn't think—only feel as that loose fist tightens.]
. . . I'll kill him with my own hands.
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There's a story there, but Dorothy also knows better than most that stories don't tend to get told until they're ready to. So she doesn't ask, merely moves one hand over to lightly cover the one he's clenching.
What a time to want to be affectionate, honestly. ]
Not a very gentlemanly thing to say [ to a lady ] but I agree that it's something you ought to handle yourself.
They might have made a mistake, picking at least two people who don't have wishes to grant.
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If the Realm wants someone with a wish, it was centuries too late.
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But slowly, his hand relaxes. She keeps hers there, because she can. ]
That's a long time to simmer.
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He's not even thinking about his actions. It's all happening amid his thoughts, so when he catches up to the present he lifts his head with a frown.]
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Instead, she smiles, in direct contrast to that frown of his. ]
So you do like me! I'm flattered.
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That has nothing to do with it. I have no feelings toward you.
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