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. ]
[He doesn't look too pleased with the contact. At the same time he declines to push her away, because he reckons that they're both being affectionate out of the same irresistible impulse.]
I have no intention of engaging in personal conversation with anyone here, nor are you obliged to care for me in any way.
[ He's not wrong. Dorothy doesn't mind affection and will happily encourage it, but she's not one to push for it when the other party isn't offering at least faint signals.
And yet here they are, and while she knows it's all impulse, she accepts it and moves a little closer to let their shoulders touch. One hand returns to her lap, satisfied with this level of affectionate contact. Apparently.
Dorothy herself? Looks a little... exasperated. ]
And here we have another one just like her... [ It's muttered, before she shakes her head as best she can. ]
Well, that's quite kind of you to remind me that I am in no way obligated to do anything.
And so I will simply tell you that I'm aware and I'll do it because I want to and you may certainly do your best to stop me.
[Who's her? It's a fleeting question in his mind as he looks down at her. Because it's fleeting, it's gone in a flash.
Their collective position right now is oddly comfortable. Seeing as they have an understanding about why any of this is happening, he feels no need to make a bigger deal out of it.]
I have better things to do with my time. Do as you please.
[ It's something like a victory, maybe. She'll count it as one, choosing not to tack on a teasing comment like "You might not want to give me that much permission." Instead, finding this nice while it lasts, Dorothy merely hums without really thinking about it-- the same song from earlier when the wolf thing had found her. ]
[Were this any other encounter, Rufus would've left a long time ago. But the urges hold him down, keeping him beside Dorothy.
The last time someone held and sang to him like this was . . . His scowl blooms anew. Well, now he's a little irritated.
There's nothing he can do about it right now, though. Even Rupe's curled up on the forest floor next to him. The urges will pass, so he sits and listens, paradoxically annoyed yet comfortable.]
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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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[ If he's going to keep stroking her hair then she's just going to delicately do the same. It's fine. ]
Though I have to admit you've yet to ask me the questions I owe you, so that might be valid.
In the meantime, I shall just have to like you in my stead.
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I have no intention of engaging in personal conversation with anyone here, nor are you obliged to care for me in any way.
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And yet here they are, and while she knows it's all impulse, she accepts it and moves a little closer to let their shoulders touch. One hand returns to her lap, satisfied with this level of affectionate contact. Apparently.
Dorothy herself? Looks a little... exasperated. ]
And here we have another one just like her... [ It's muttered, before she shakes her head as best she can. ]
Well, that's quite kind of you to remind me that I am in no way obligated to do anything.
And so I will simply tell you that I'm aware and I'll do it because I want to and you may certainly do your best to stop me.
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Their collective position right now is oddly comfortable. Seeing as they have an understanding about why any of this is happening, he feels no need to make a bigger deal out of it.]
I have better things to do with my time. Do as you please.
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The last time someone held and sang to him like this was . . . His scowl blooms anew. Well, now he's a little irritated.
There's nothing he can do about it right now, though. Even Rupe's curled up on the forest floor next to him. The urges will pass, so he sits and listens, paradoxically annoyed yet comfortable.]
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Dorothy does eventually speak up again, finally seemingly aware that enough time has passed without a word between them. ]
Well. You're surprisingly comfortable. Has anyone ever told you that?
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It's the Realm's influence.
Do you still feel it?
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[ She admits it, a little wryly. Bye, Rufus' hand. ]
But I'd like to think I can show some restraint. You might not speak to me again if I don't, and missing out on my company would be such a shame.
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I will always speak if it's about business.
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[ For a one thousand-year-old demon, he sure doesn't know how to have fun, does he? ]
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[Moneymaking is fun.]
Work is work. I will do anything.
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Let's see how this week progresses. If it turns out it might be more beneficial than not, I could be convinced to enter into an information agreement.
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