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provost's dog (d1) aniki forfrysning

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[Aniki is sitting in her enclave in the woods, quite human, inspecting every inch of her beloved sword, cleaning it, honing it it, polishing it until it practically glows in the light from the lampflowers. She sings softly, turning the weapon over and over, reacquainting herself both with it and her hands.]

[It's good to be human again.]

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[She makes a face.] Find first mage, after change.

[A pause, and then an innocent face.] Already dead. Trampled in stables, own horse. Gods will balance.

[He gives her a Look.] He was found dead? Killed by a horse, even. Fancy that.

[She slides her sword out of its sheath, turning it over in her hands so he can see the light play off the tempering of the blade.] Anjel Armory. Told you before. Best in Tortall, reputation, power. Knights favor.

[She tugs a polishing cloth from her pocket and runs it over the blade, cleaning her fingerprints away.] One breaks in battle, gets a knight killed, reputation breaks too.

[A pause, and she gives him a thin, bladed smile, completely unapologetic. A moment of struggle, then,] I am the Rogue’s sword.

[He raises an eyebrow.] Just curious but you weren't the horse that did it, were you?

[Innocent face is back.]

Aniki. Oh, honestly. [He mostly sounds exasperated.]

[Headtilt. There's a part of her that wants to make it up to him, really REALLY wants to, but she does her best smother it down. Each word is slow, like she doesn't say it until she's sure it will come out right.] What would you have had me do?

Edited 2009-01-30 09:30 (UTC)

[He leans back, exhaling as he does.] To be perfectly honest, I really don't know. [He tilts his head.] Do you think he ever would get better? Use his abilities for good, that sort of thing. Cliché as it sounds, I know, but I have this terrible problem of having faith in the good of everyone. [a pause.] Usually.

[Her eyes are amused and a little sad.] Maybe that's why I like you lot. Thousand-year-old children, you are.

[He smiles a bit back.] I suppose...when you live as long as we do and see some of the things we see, you have to have some hope. Hope for the universe, the good, wonderful things. [A little softer.] I've lost hope before. Plenty of times. I wouldn't blame you if you have, too.

'Lost'? [A quiet laugh.] That's a bit strong, I'd say.

There's a lovely Portuguese word I like: 'Saudade.' It's like nostalgia except you realise what you miss may never return but you always carry the hope that just maybe, just one day, it will. Always trying to have hope, even knowing how very fruitless it might be. Something lost can always be found again.

[She leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek, pausing a moment, shaking her head, drawing away. She lays back on the grass. Enjoys the lingering attention to smell, intense enough that she can almost taste the fragrance in the back of her throat. She's still speaking with that measured delicacy.] It doesn't bother you? What I am, what I do? I'm a killer. Dress it up as you will, but that's me at the heart. I love my weapon and I love to use it.

Edited 2009-01-30 10:41 (UTC)

[He pauses. Then, speaking very honestly.]

It does. Bother me, I mean. I don't like killers. I don't like needless death and bloodshed. It just isn't my way. [More hesitation.] But I...- I try to do what's right but sometimes there isn't another way.

[He shifts to sit closer to her.] You, Aniki, are more than just a killer. The universe isn't black and white. It isn't easy. I do know that.

[She closes her eyes, a slight smile on her face.] You'd like Beka.

[The smile fades when she looks at him. She doesn't like the idea of him being forced to kill, any more than she likes the idea of Beka in the same situation. That's what she's for. A weapon for the ones that need to--that should be able to--keep their hands clean. And yet he's lived longer and probably killed more than she's bumped into on the street. She wants to protect him, and she's sure that it's her own desire, not some residual fondness from... the animal experiment.]

[Blah. Why does she always get attached to the troublemakers?]

[The Doctor is rather oblivious to these thoughts. He tries not to dwell on killing and death. And he's rather good at convenient ADD. So he just smiles at her.]

Beka must be a friend of yours.

[Oh right. Because life would be boring otherwise. She shifts so she can rest her back against him.] A Dog. Police is what you lot call them, I guess. Lives with me'n Kora'n Rosto, same lodging house. [Snerk.] Poor lass.

[He laughs.] That sounds like a sitcom. The Odd Couple sort of feel, could involve lots of slapstick and misunderstandings and hilarious but occasionally touching hijinks.

[Tilts her head back to look at him.] I've no idea what you just said. And except for Kora setting my pants on fire when I broke down her door once, we get on well enough.

[Raises an eyebrow. Pants on fire, oh my.] Oh, well. That's certainly exciting.

[She rolls her eyes.] I was in a hurry. No time to knock.

It seems a bit harsh for not knocking.

[She grins] To be fair, she had a guest.

[And she shifts again, giving up on that whole resisting-the-urge-to-cuddle business.]

[He has a moment of 'oh, huh' but doesn't seem to mind at all.] Oh, well then. I suppose that's a strange version of 'eye for an eye.'

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