reverie inbox.

[vecna]

text | voice | action | etc.

Comments

[velluminous]

[ SLAMS THE TABLE ] —Rooster!

[vecna]

[HIS MUG JOSTLES, he holds onto it to keep it steady.]

And why wouldn't I recover from "cock with wine"? [Poor, vaguely sloshed Sprezzatura.]

[velluminous]

Because it is sumptuous! So buttery on your tongue, richness you dream of after. And is it kind of dish that appeals to most, since you were so picky about my draniki.

[vecna]

Picky? I ate it, didn’t I?

[velluminous]

Did you... did you love it?

[vecna]

It was a potato pancake, Sprezzatura.

It was good.

[velluminous]

[ flushes; she hears how pitiable she sounds ]

I just want you to--

[vecna]

[A brow arching. He wonders what she's struggling so much to relay; either the drink's made her lips looser, or her tongue more liable to fumble.]

...Approve?

[velluminous]

[ approve. ]

Never mind. It is stupid.

[vecna]

[Like he's going to leave it at that.]

No, it's not. Tell me.

[velluminous]

[ it's fine if you hate me. ]

I want you to—like me.

[vecna]

Sprezzatura.

[His brows scrunch together at this.]

After everything, surely you don't think that I don't like you?

[velluminous]

...

[ mumbles half-heartedly ]

[vecna]

[He can't hear you! Or he wishes to hear the sentiment loud and clear.]

What's that?

[velluminous]

I surely am not worth my moods!

[ always fighting him, always a moment away from collapsing everything. people who liked her more have walked away from her for less, so--Mammon, how did she even start thinking about this? ]

[vecna]

[Henry doesn't respond right away, eyes searching her face. He lifts his mug to his lips, taking a sip of his own (perfectly fine) coffee.]

If your moods bothered me as much as you think they do, wouldn't I have given up long before now? I'm just as stubborn as you. I've weathered worse storms before.

[He sets his mug back down.]

...Losing your teammate must have really shaken you.

[velluminous]

[ there are a few Basilisks she hasn't seen in a few days. and more than that is the sense that something is changing, that the Warden is finally losing control of her inmates—Minato sowed that particular worry seed. it had felt vindicating in the moment, surrounded by elevator wreckage, but as always, Sprezzatura's mind has turned the thought over and chewed it to pieces, and she's realizing some downsides to that concept.

primarily, that this might all end well before she's ready. ]

Maybe I do not wish to forever be storm that one has to weather.

[vecna]

[Maybe not. But that's less in his control than it is hers, isn't it?

Instead, he can offer something else.]

How about I promise you something?

[velluminous]

[ she buries herself deep into her coffee mug ]

Hmn?

[vecna]

I promise, that if for some reason I disappear into Solitary without warning, my last day in this prison won’t be one spent hating you.

No matter how bad the storm is.

[velluminous]

[ there is a tight clench and then release around her heart. better hold onto this one, Sprezzatura, through all the good. and bad, because whatever horrors he's committed, at least he's committed to this, too.

her swallow is so thick you can nearly hear it... but something finally wrenches back into place ]

You cannot renounce on deals with devils, you know.

[vecna]

[He gives her the moment she needs to let that settle. Henry wonders if it can provide a small amount of comfort, a connection wrought with permanence, one that Solitary cannot erase, one that exists even if they are flung to opposite ends of the universe, back to where they came.

It does for Henry, in a way.]

I wouldn't dream of it, anyway.

[velluminous]

...Stupid.

[ how can she even tell what a comfort is anymore? it just feels like an ache. like her heart is throbbing up in her throat, words she doesn't understand bubbling behind her lips. when every connection she forms seems like it eventually breaks, promises don't mean much—or they shouldn't.

this one does, though.

reaching across the table for his hand. she's a touchy woman. you already know this about her. ]

You were right. I need these bonds.

[vecna]

[Yes, he does. And he can be, too — always reaching for the face, the chin. But this time, Henry merely glances down at his hand when she clasps it. His fingers flex slightly in her hold before he returns his look to Sprezzatura.

Something’s shifted in her. She’s made her decision about the bonds formed in this place. Henry, too, is on the precipice of that, though not quite far enough to have fallen past that point of no return. Not yet.]

So you’ve decided. Well… you’re one step ahead of me when it comes to most of the rest of this place.

[velluminous]

[ it only lasts for a moment. she's too into her cups to endure the feeling of reaching out to someone who doesn't reach back, and that's so often been the issue. her hand withdraws and disappears beneath the table to grip at her own knee ]

I do not feel ahead. I feel like I am chasing something moved on without me.