realityshifted | ♥ feast your eyes on my display

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freakangels (d1) sirkka

♥ feast your eyes on my display

[There's a strangely attractive woman taking over your library today, Plane. Sirkka is indulging herself. On the long study table beside her, there's a setting of Earl Grey for four and some delicious chocolate-dipped cookie treats— all things she took from the community kitchen, of course. Sirkka has her long legs crossed over another chair while she sips her tea. She's enjoying her book too much to care about manners, even laughing every once in a while. Must be a comedy right?

Nah, just Twilight.]

This really is like secondary school.

[If one is as empathic as she is, they might detect a sort of dark, lingering thought beneath all of this that she's trying to distract herself from.]

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Even to the point of cold-blooded, pre-emptive murder?

[It's a question asked so calmly. No judgement, no suggestion, not even curiosity. It's like she is presenting an academic argument and he is simply querying into areas where he wants to hear how she would apply her thesis.]

[Sirkka stares at Braxiatel for a full ten seconds. She wasn't expecting that, and it's written on her face. So is her indecision.

Jack and Sirkka have had arguments like this before. Sirkka preaches one thing but then, when Whitechapel is attacked, she pulls out her big gatling gun and spears people. So really, it could go either way.

But these are people she grew up with, shared memories with, /destroyed the world with/.]

... I don't know. [She lowers her eyes.] I want to believe that I can. But saying things and doing them is another matter entirely. Whatever happens, whatever I decide at the time it happens, I just hope it's good judgment.

[Braxiatel observes her reaction with that same calm lack of judgement.]

I find that reaction interesting. I don't think most people would want to believe they would do it. Most, I think, would wonder what that would make them.

[Quietly, almost to herself more than him--] I already know what I am.

[Braxiatel laughs. It isn't unkind - on the contrary, it's out of fondness, and his smile remains when his laughter becomes quiet.] Sirkka, you are not yet done becoming what you are. I wouldn't let the judge make a decision quite yet.

[Her moment of melancholy passes when Brax's smile returns. She has an echo of one too, fond and sad and relieved all at once.]

I suppose that's true. Are we ever really done growing, Mr. Braxiatel?

We can be. If we choose to stagnate. To stay still. But the universe keeps moving, and if you do try to stay still, to crystalize - well. I've seen a lot of crystals smashed in my time.

[He picks up one of the cookies.] If it's any indication, after all my years I am changing even now, and I don't know what I will be.

That's true. [She pours them both some more tea, still smiling faintly.]

We've been making a modest living for a few years now. It's the first time we've been able to stay in one place since we were children, really. But it doesn't feel stagnate at all-- only hopeful. There's always some new challenge we have to overcome, from small things like repairing a tire on the water truck, to bigger things that involve the infrastructure of our little neighborhood as a whole.

We've made it this far. We've done so much with so little; all of us are refugees as much as the last.

I think that... whatever happens with Luke, or Mark, it'll take a lot more than that to undo what we've accomplished.

Then I think, if I had to bet on it, I'd wager on that sentiment. And on you.

[She wasn't expecting those words (not that she expects anything from Brax, ever) and it makes her pause. When her smile returns, it's steeped in relief and a faint hope. Yes, everything will be fine eventually. And she has people who can help.

She's slightly worried about if her world is leaking into other realities, but so far it hasn't hurt anyone. Hopefully it'll stay that way.]

Thank you.

[Braxiatel brushes it off smoothly, because his people don't do sentimentality, because has never understood how much kindness people need so he gives what he hopes is true and then moves on. And he likes Sirkka. She is young and he wants to see her have a future despite the shadows of her past that lurk at the edge of these conversation.] I don't remember doing anything that deserves thanks. You, on the other hand, have given me company and tea, and have not laughed too hard at me for my taste in literature.

[Someday he'll find out just what it is that she did, and then they may relate quite terribly.] Tea is expected what with all the Turkish delights you've showered me with. As far as literature goes, you have your reasons, and it's not as if I don't read the stuff and enjoy it, too. I have a lot of guilty pleasures, Mr. Braxiatel, except that I don't feel too guilty about them.

I think that's the best thing about a really good guilty pleasure: you don't really feel guilty about them. The shame actually adds an extra sort of pleasure to it, really. I wonder what that says about us all.

It seems to me that we should give into our inner hedonist more often.

Oh, I don't think you should be encouraging that in me.

You seem to encourage that in me very much. It's only proper to return it.

In a post-apocalyptic world, one needs to take one's hedonism where one can get it.

Maybe, but I was much the same way before it all happened. There's too much emphasis on schedules and working and not enough attention paid to the self, even with modern conveniences.

I can't imagine that's any better in the future.

I can't say that it is. There are some cultures that manage a fairly good balance of things, but not many, and generally they don't last for a particularly long time.

It's a personal duty, I think, rather than something that can be enforced. Though having friends drag you onto a vacation is also good for the soul.

[airily] Sometimes, people don't know what's best for them.

[And that, ladies and gentleman, is why Brax has been known to kidnap people onto vacations. Because he loves.]

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♥ feast your eyes on my display

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