epidemiology | PLAYER EVENT ★ HELIOLOGY

PLAYER EVENT ★ HELIOLOGY

INTRODUCTION.

It's difficult to tell time without the presence of a sun or moon. There are no stars. The world is in constant blackness, the heavens barely visible from below and the only light artificial. It's been like this for months.

Suddenly, those who expressed interest in observing the sun (or lack thereof) will all at once receive a text message on their ALASTAIR jewellery from 82736775:

Get your shit and go look at the sky. Now's the time. If you need me, I'm around.

It's time to get to work.

OBSERVATION.

Find the highest point you can and point the telescopes at the sky. Should be easy, right?

Be mindful that there are still guards patrolling the city, looking for escaped prisoners, and some citizens would be very happy to tip them off to your presence. There are still animals in the forests to contend with, and there are still nosey citizens who may ask you too many questions. There are also your fellow ALASTAIR agents, who may not be very willing to share the spot they already staked out before you just showed up.

People and animals aren't all you need to look out for, either. Seven hours after the observation starts, there is a lightning storm. It lasts for 30 minutes, bolts of electricity arcing across the sky. It might be a good idea to scurry down someplace lower when this happens -- you know what they say about lightning and height.

82736775 doesn't contact anyone after the initial text, so observers are free to give up whenever they decide they've been sitting out in the freezing dark for long enough.

[ note: even if you didn't sign up, feel free to tag in! your character won't have a telescope but that doesn't mean they can't mingle. ]

[ previously: ic info | ooc info ]
[ direct questions here! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Interestingly enough, Alice doesn't see him out of the corner of her eye, not beyond the dark tendrils of her hallucination obscuring her vision. By this time, she's gotten so used to bits of shadows and other frightening visions that she doesn't bat an eye at it.

She flinches, turning herself to him as she pulls strands of her hair out of her face and turns to him. ]

I'm not ready to go back inside quite yet.

[ As much as a good, warm bed sounded so very tempting, Alice stubbornness would likely multiply with him around. ]

I'm fine the way I am.

Then I am fine as well. [ —his answer is a seamless thing, coupled with a too-elegant shrug of his shoulders. For once, he'll not contest her: he'll merely smile and obey her wishes, the little light of karasagi hovering overhead. Though the spell of brilliance is enough to provide ample illumination for the area surrounding, it is not nearly so bright as to drown out the lightning storm which has seized the landscape of the sky, nor its accompaniment of thunder. ]

If not inside, where shall we be off to? Is it your wish, then, to better survey the storm?

You're an odd one, you know, you're almost glowing each time I see you.

[ She can attempt to tease, looking at the hovering light above him and looks down to him with an awkward, forced smile. ]

Lower grounds, no doubt, I'm not climbing up any further.

[ And withe some natives taking this less than gracious than her, as calm as she is, she prefers to be away from others, so Alice to proceed to turn away and to a part of the Chantes she knows isn't frequented too much by people and where she tells the native children stories during the "daytime". She's ill tonight and does what she can to hide it, turning back to add to him. ]

I'm happy to see you again.

And I you, my friend. [ My friend, it has a different ring than Lady Alice, doesn't it? But for all that it is different, there is no less sentiment to the endearment—for it is true, isn't it? They're friends. ] Which is why we'll go into recluse together, for along the way, you're certain to need a light, and admittedly...!

[ Unabashed, he teases back: ] As someone born to be King, my shine is different.

[ And he, the Hero King of his country, is so often compared to a beacon of light that he has become one, shrouded by a golden aura upon the battlefield, known for his fiercely determined golden eyes, and here in the persistent dark of Chantes, he is never without karasagi to mark his path.

Or rather, Alice's path, because she seems quite keen upon leading the way once again, leaving Sion to follow and to wonder at her small frame.

(Better than anyone else, Sion knows the look of a smile made for the sake of appearances alone.) ]

You are not unwell, are you? [ —he asks no sooner than they've reached a more peaceable place, the only sound stemming from storm itself and not those fearful of it. ] The change in the atmosphere, I hope it hasn't worsened your fatigue.

Edited 2016-01-10 05:55 (UTC)

[ "My friend."

Being the humble person she is, she says nothing, dropping her gaze as she walks beside him to the ground beneath her. A moment later, Alice draws a bit of an exasperated sigh to hide the small burst of happiness after her refers her to a friend. She doesn't want to show him too much leniency, after all. ]

Oh, I'm plenty sure such a thing must be a guideline for a king like you.

[ Alice is nearly sarcastic to his teasing, pulling the blanket around her shoulders more firmly. He's odd in the fact he lets her take the lead, too, never allowing himself to pick a sense of direction. Come to think of it, did he? Was he really that much of a doormat? She didn't mind taking the lead, she was used to it and even felt like she had to sometimes to make up for being small and slender, otherwise, others would walk all over her. No one would mess with an attitude like hers.

And here, Alice pauses, still hesitant to let him into a few things. But she's certain that her fatigue will make her look ill. He was kind, but there was only so much she was comfortable with disclosing. ]

I'm used to cold when I'm not well; where I come from, it's very cold, most times. And rainy.

[ London could be terrible, it was a dreadful place to live. ]

I'm only a little ill, but I'll be fine. I won't be able to sleep with this fuss, anyway.

Edited 2016-01-10 06:18 (UTC)

A little ill is still ill. [ —he half teases, half chides, golden eyes softening as he regards her with a look, thoroughly unwilling to veil his concern. Now that they've stopped, he sets about clearing a space so they might be able to sit comfortably, in full view of the storm and all its ruckus. And though he is uncertain if she'll take it, he extends his hand to her for it is a gesture which he wishes to make. ] Please, take a seat, lest you take the great and terrible risk of collapsing were you stand.

[ His voice is playfully hushed, then: ] You realize I would have to catch you, after that.

[ And she would wake in the safety of his arms, her rescuer the Hero King...! Truly, that would be the most foolish path to take (if only because Sion would do it, to laugh, to smile, and hopefully bring some measure of ease to Alice in turn!). For a King, he really is much too gentle; too kind when he is absent of a country to rule. And here, in Chantes, he is obliging, curious as he is to know the hopes and dreams of those who surround him. ]

It isn't too late, you know. To grow used to something other than the dreary cold of your home.

I am not that ill to where I will collapse.

[ Possibly, in a few more hours if her hallucinations persist enough to where she'll have a blinding headache. But Alice isn't too far from the inn that it's a worry of hers. She does sit, at least, because standing seems to make her even more tired. As tired as she is, Alice looks up at him, with a frown. Oh, he is not catching her. She will sit there firmly and as still as possible, even more determined to stick it out than before. ]

I haven't had a home in a long time.

[ There's a bit of irritation crawling up in her voice. She never once considered London her home -- she had no home. Her home had burned down eleven years ago, along with her beloved family. London was a pit and she despised it. After leaving it, Alice's hatred of it has seem to multiply. She glances around and adds- ]

The Chantes are not that dissimilar in some ways to where I come from. It's almost just as terrible, just as littered and disheveled.

[ The bigger difference, thankfully, was the lack of murders and prostitution. Settling herself with a little sigh, Alice went back to watching the thunder and lightning. The more she thought about it, the more content she was with being here. Her past wasn't an affliction and a problem for her in the Chantes; no one called her mad or knew of her past. It was a clean slate for her. ]

But I can grow used to it, it's not my home, but at least it isn't as terrible as Whitechapel.

Whitechapel?

[ It's as apparent as ever, then, how little he knows about her. True, he is able to say that she'd rise to the defense of almost anyone in need, that she cares deeply for the welfare of children above all else; her temper is quick, and it is by far easier to incur her wrath than it is to garner a smile, but... Aside from what she's told him of her family, he cannot claim to be acquainted with her past. And while it's likely that she's neglected to speak of it with due reason, he finds he cannot help but be curious.

(What reason is there, for Alice to call herself mad?) ]

I'd like to fancy you a vagabond, wandering from place to place while helping children in need. [ He'll not take his seat beside her, not just yet, if only because it is far easier to survey Alice while standing—though she's claimed otherwise, he's very much searching for any signs of worsening ailment and fatigue. ] What became of your home, then, and what is it that lead you to this Whitechapel?

Whitechapel is a district of a city known as London in my country, England.

[ A wandering vagabond helping children would have been a better life than the life she had back there. To her surprise, it's not as painful to talk about the past as it did before. Sion isn't a doctor or a nurse, prodding her with questions or belittling her. The fact he hasn't sat down yet has Alice looking directly up at him, watching him with cautious eyes. Just from the matter of her speech and the way she carries herself, it's easy to tell Alice, at one point, lived with a very well off family; what she says next clashes with that. ]

It's a rather impoverished place, much like the Chantes. It's not an uncommon sight to find orphaned children wandering the streets, prostitutes standing at the corners, or an unfortunate soul dead of illness or by another man's hands. Where I come from, unmarried women have few options as means to live. Either you marry a man for financial security, become a caregiver to children, or you're on the streets. I would have loved to be a vagabond. [ Really and truly. ] You're only half right; I was a matron and maid to children, at an orphanage.

[ A few other people here knew of that, though, not that many. Alice only told a few who she was comfortable with and as an explanation as to why she was so adamant on social equality and the safety of children. She lived in possibly one of the worst parts of London imaginable. Sitting on that ledge, Alice's feet began to lightly swing.

How she ended up in Whitechapel was through a multitude of reasons. She was sure that her inheritance was gone, no thanks to her family's greedy lawyer, so the chance of finding a new place to live was unlikely. Wincing, Alice looked to the ground. ]

It was burned to the ground. I was the only survivor.

[ As she speaks, he holds her gaze, choosing to lower himself to his knees before her rather than to take a seat at her side. He's still very much worried, he'll not deny, that she may be concealing something from him, and if she'll not look after herself, then it's best that he can see her eyes; her face. She might still look away, turning from him, but at least he'd not misconstrue it as a simple pause in her story. No, her history as she tells him of Whitechapel, his attention rapt because...

Because it sounds so very much like his country before he'd been able to raise it from ruin.

(Just by walking the streets, Sion, it's clear that everyone is comfortable. Everyone is wearing a smile. You know what they say, don't you? That because they are able to live in this country you created, they are able to gain happiness. They have hope.) ]

A fire. [ So that is it, then—why Alice has nothing of her family, save for memory, and why her father lives on in a book of his namesake. It is a tragedy true, and there is perhaps nothing which can ever be said to remedy it, so while Alice hadn't taken his hand before, he reaches again, this time to gently rest his palm atop her knee. ...or, at the very least, the approximation of her knee, most of her so happens to be buried well beneath her blanket! And though she should know that his sympathies are with her, I'm sorry are the two words he doesn't say, but rather: ] I am glad that you've escaped that place.

Even if Chantes is not so dissimilar, we are here to help. [ As if on cue, lightning crackles throughout the sky, the bellows of thunder upon its heels. ] And you've done as much tonight; there is no need to wait out this storm.

Edited 2016-01-10 23:59 (UTC)

[ Sion seemed like a kind man and, in Alice's opinion, could stand to assert himself in some fashion. She didn't feel too uneasy with him, not in the same way as Ban or Giglamesh. It didn't matter, touch was touch and Alice was not accustomed to it, especially touch that didn't involve abuse in some fashion. She can't help but flinch at the gesture, her body tensing up and passing him an unsure glance. She knew it was a gesture meant to comfort her.

Still, no one has ever really bothered to offer her consolation of any sort, only idly commenting of her condition, both medically and physically. She was watching him, just in case -- Alice would always say one could never be too careful. After tonight, she hopes that's sincere; at least her reaction isn't as volatile as it had been with Gilgamesh. Balling up her fists on her lap, Alice draws a deep breath. ]

There are many intelligent and strong individuals here.

[ She couldn't take that credit, she just couldn't. She upset Sieglinde and couldn't keep a grip on reality. ]

I'm sure that they'll find a way to help them.

[ For the first time, the crackle of the storm startles Alice. ]

I'm fine. Really. I won't be able to sleep with this loud of a storm.

[ He hopes...

He hopes that one day, she'll not flinch from his touch; that her eyes will not look so very haunted when they meet with his own. There's more to be said about her past, some darkness which Alice hasn't (and may never touch upon), but as always Sion will keep his suspicions his own. Just as he'd extended his hand to the adoptive daughter of Duke Callaud, and had come to call the second and third children of House Eris his close companions, he would care for Alice.

That would be how he asserted himself (and truth be told, how he always has, in looking after others). ]

Forgive me, for I've brought you discomfort, but... [ His hand still sits lightly atop her knee, his touch featherweight and delicate. ] ...I would never wish you harm, and truly I am as glad as I am sorry for the events which have brought you here.

[ Retracting his hand, he settles back into kneeling, lips twitching up into the beginnings of a grin: ] And it is true, there is no shortage of talent among our fellow recruits, though I can recall only one who gave pause to aid me, as I attempted to aid her during battle.

[ One, really, is all it will ever take. ]

You're staying at the Abel Inn, are you not? By the time we make our way there, the storm may have very well have passed through. [ While they've tarried outside, the lightning has only grown more fierce, the sky hectic with color and sound as though working steadily to a crescendo. ] And if it has not, it is within my ability to take the sound away from an enclosure of my choosing. I would happily weave such a spell for you.

I suppose so, if I remembered some of it.

[ She says it in the way where she means for it to be a joke, aside from a confession that she blocked some of it out. Some of it remained vivid in her mind, as she looks at him. Aside from the bright, vivid gold of his eyes, she could have sworn she seen it bleeding out of him. But her mind is cruel, it plays jokes on her, and it twists her sight. Such a thing couldn't be, so her conclusion is that it's still a vision. It's supposed to be hilarious, it is hilarious.

It's another day for Alice, thankfully, nowhere near as bad as waking up in strange spots in London. With his hand off of her, she can relax, ignoring the slew of feelings circulating through her. Alice still can't accept praise. ]

Please, I'm just a lowly servant, I'm not particularly skilled in anything.

[ Then maybe, she would take him up on that, if silence was the only thing to help her sleep. She shifts, looking around herself and then back to him. Why was there kneeling? She did what she could not to become flustered again. Before he has the chance to say anything about her again, Alice hurries along. ]

I am, indeed, stay there for now. Though, I don't think you'll be able to help me, sadly.

Edited (sorry, some words were off when i re-read it) 2016-01-11 04:44 (UTC)

Don't say that. [ Some of it. Lowly servant. Sadly. Have they truly been set back so very far? He'd at least thought she might acknowledge her own battle prowess—the way she'd wielded her knife, it is impressive to him still—and yet... yet, she would draw a line between them. Where she cannot hurry along (toward a jailhouse, or toward the toy collection for Christmas), she breezes through their conversation instead, and Sion will not stand for it. Or kneel for it, as it were. ] Do not think that you are beyond my, or anyone's, help. You are not so far out of reach, Lady Alice.

[ His reach, especially, now that she's said something curious—a joke that is far from one—perhaps due to her fatigue. ]

You do not recall how we carved a path together? How you gave pause when I was injured, and how you stood in front of me as though you, yourself, could be a bulwark against the guards?

[ And oh, how she had been, biding Sion himself enough time to cast a spell with strength enough to rid them of all their foes. Where is that Alice now? ]

At the very least, this humble King is still in your debt.

[ She has been having the best luck lately with her words, hasn't she? She gives him a startled expression, hoping that, he too, isn't going to become angry with her. The hands on her lap freely flex, grabbing the blanket on her knees. She hadn't considered the severity of what she said her fatigue and let something slipped that shouldn't have. Truly, she did try to joke at it her expense that all of it could have been a blur, like some sort of hangover that other adults talk about after drinking.

The injury he incurred was actually something Alice was doubtful of to begin with. As she recalls, she looks to his arm. No, she was just imagining gold, that was it, that had to be it. But now a slow crawl of panic was seeping in her mind, worried that he, too, would possibly call her thought process insane. Or that she was insane. ]

My apologies.

[ It's a knee jerk reaction to what he asks of her, worried that she has said something wrong and he'll have a similar reaction to Sieglinde. Brushing her hair out of her face, she felt a sudden pinch of nerves in head, trying to recall the incidents there at the jailhouse -- or rather, what she forgot. ]

No, I... I do remember. [ Whenever she was stressed, sometimes those things seeped into her vision- ] Well, I couldn't leave you there, it wouldn't be right and I would do it again.

[ She was sure that he could weave a spell to eliminate noises, but he couldn't do anything with her nightmares, both walking and dreaming. ]

I am just-

[ I am just imagining things! She really does want to tell him and yet is worried about his reaction in the process. She masks it well enough, the small headache forming and the blinding light of the lightening wasn't any help. Her vision nearly blurs from the intense light and Alice can only really manage a forced laugh. Not so far out of reach, he says; would he say the same thing if he knew Alice was capable of slipping in and out of her mind? ]

I have an over-active imagination and it keeps me up at night. I'd rather stay out here than sleep, you see, at least I won't let my imagination get the better of me. Ah, how I've had the worst luck lately -- or rather, how cruel I am with my words. I didn't mean to upset you, Sion.

[ For once, Alice drops the formalities, almost if she was pleading with him not to worry or grow even more upset with her. ]

I am grateful, truly, I am. But please, let me stay out here a bit longer? If you're not too angered with me, you can sit beside me.

You owe no apology to me, and I am the furthest from angered.

[ He rises, then, to take place beside her on the ledge, careful to keep a comfortable distance between them for Alice's sake. Where she is very much under the impression that she's managed to upset him, Sion is only all too certain that he is the source of her present agitation—he is the only one at fault here (she is not him, she doesn't deserve to be pushed, and any hand you extend you will retract yourself; you destroy whomever you reach out to, Sion Astal), he is to blame. And still... still he wears a smile, though his golden eyes are oddly solemn as he divests himself of his gloves, placing them neatly atop his lap. ]

You are my friend, Alice, and I wish only to understand; to grant you peace of mind, if I am able.

[ And from the start, he hadn't been able to manage it. For while he'd sought to protect her from his darkness, doing as much had only caused her to doubt herself. He'd been dismissive of it, then, the misunderstanding between them upon the battlefield, but the way Alice had behaved after he'd been injured, and how distraught she is now, it could have been avoided, couldn't it? If only he'd done something, shown her, offered some means of explanation. ]

I've done nothing, I'm afraid, to earn your gratitude, but— [ A dagger. It is a dagger which he draws from the sash at his side. Though he hadn't found a sword to his liking in the goblin markets, he'd not left entirely empty-handed, and for that he is grateful: with no measure of hesitance and no flinch of pain, he takes the blade to the palm of his hand, cutting it open. ] —at the very least, I can show you this.

[ Blood, as golden and bright as his eyes as it drips down his palm, running in rivulets to his wrist as he raises his hand. ]

You imagined nothing, on that night. [ Not when she'd fought beside him. ] The color is wrong; it will never return to red.

...

[ That is... something that she wasn't expecting. While he doesn't seem to flinch at drawing a dagger to himself, Alice is about ready to jump from her seat and tell him not to. That was until she saw the slow flow of his blood, how wasn't the bright red color that that flowed through anyone else. It was odd that this was a confirmation that she saw what she did; she was so thoroughly convinced she was hallucinating. What was worse that admitting to an over-active imagination-

Alice was used to odd things, she had seen plenty of horrors for too young of an age. A man who bleeds gold isn't something she's repulsed with. In the end, maybe she preferred people just as strange as her or on their own tier of strange. Giving her piece of mind at the cost of hurting himself isn't anything to make her feel better. ]

I have seen many strange and horrible things, this is hardly something that frightens me.

[ It's awkward, isn't it? Alice isn't sure if she wants to explain too much. Without hesitation, Alice pulls out a handkerchief, holding it in her hands. She remembers helping him, she barely remembers the fight between Ban and Gin, she doesn't recall how she got out of the jailhouse, or how she got into it. Only bits and pieces, diluted with hallucinations. Or one she thought was a hallucination.]

Regardless, I don't need you to hurt yourself on the account of me, especially to reassure me. Here-

[ Despite her dislike of touch, Alice leans in and covers his hand with her folded handkerchief while holding his hand. And yet, Alice is scoffing at herself. Just how insane did she look now? ]

And I'm still not frightened of you. You don't need to do that, please, don't do that again.

[ And how mad must he seem, having taken a blade to himself? Even now, he holds the dagger in his free hand. ]

I do not mind it, being the one to get hurt. [ —he says the words on automatic, for he's been reciting them since childhood. If others had battles to fight, he would take them upon himself. If a wall had to be brought down for the sake of change, he would break it. And if there were a void, a great chasm which required a sacrifice for it to be filled, then...

Without a doubt, he would be the one to plummet into its depths. ]

And I would do it again in a heartbeat, if it meant proving that your eyes are trustworthy. That you can have faith in yourself. [ What's more, the wound is nothing but a scratch, something hardly worthy of Alice's attentions. Yet, she would give them all the same, and where she'd once flinched away from him, she'd covered the gash with a square of cloth, applying pressure to staunch the flow of blood as she holds his hand. ] Your handkerchief...

[ It'll not cover up the fact that his inhumanity is ugly, altering his body in ways which would frighten anyone. But not her, she's said, and her response is no different than it had been before (why would I fear you, sir?), and Sion can only shake his head with a flash of a self-loathing smile, relenting as he finally sets the dagger down, upon the surface of the ledge. ]

You'll ruin it, your handkerchief. You should not have wasted it upon so small a thing. [ Sighing with a gentle slope of his shoulder, he turns his eyes skyward, noticing how the storm's activity has lessened in so short a period of time. ] You should not worry about your imagination besting you, either.

If you are so stubborn that you'd ward away even sleep itself, you'd not lose the fight.

Then I'll ruin my handkerchief, I don't care.

[ It doesn't matter if it's a small cut or not, it's the gesture more than anything else at this rate. Alice keeps a firm but gentle hand over it to stop the bleeding from progressing. There are plenty of questions in her head, most of all"what are you?" is the top of that list. It should take a few moments, she hopes, if he's healthy enough from bleeding profusely from a small cut.

"And I would do it again in a heartbeat, if it meant proving that your eyes are trustworthy. That you can have faith in yourself."

Alice, on the other hand, bites her lip and keeps her thoughts to herself. She disagrees, of course, and still will insist that she's well beyond a cure to alleviate her from her visions. Just as well, Alice felt the same way, she would risk being hurt to protect another, especially a friend. It may not do anything to soothe whatever worries or fears he has, but it's the thought that counts to Alice, who finds herself quietly holding his hand in hers. Another person is telling her to have faith in herself. ]

I'm certain if I tell you anymore, you'll think of me mad. But-

[ Two times through Wonderland and the looking glass and Alice was able to trudge through her worst hallucinations. Those times, she never lost, not even when things seemed like it was impossible to escape. Yet, it may never be completely gone, for Alice. All she ever wanted was to be normal and a full-functioning adult. ]

There have been worse things, I suppose it may take longer to work through. [ Telling him not to worry seemed like it wouldn't work whatsoever -- if anything, Sion wold have worried over her, regardless. Exhausted, Alice heaves a sigh, gently pulling her hand away with her handkerchief. ]

You can have it, as a reminder you shouldn't do that again, You Majesty. For now, I'm still going to try and enjoy the company of my friend, no matter what color his blood is and no matter what he thinks of me or himself. Maybe I'll sleep better when I do that way.

[ She sways, just a little, turning back to throw up the hood of her cloak and nestles herself back in her blue bundle, stubborn as ever. Alice regains her bravado in her voice, canting her head to the side as she shrugs. Even then, it's tempting for her just to rest her eyes at that moment, if only to drive out whatever has been crawling into her vision. ]

I'll be in just as much gratitude as you, for not turning away from me.

[ He deserves the sentiment no more than he had Fiole's worry or Eslina's care—they'd been gentle and they'd been kind, and where Fiole had perished because of it, Eslina had taken up the mantle of her brother, scolding him with please, your Majesty, take you rest, for my brother in heaven wouldn't be able to bear seeing you as you are now. Alice's touch is... warm, her small, slender fingers holding holding his hand in her own, and Sion cannot remember the last time when someone reached out to him; always, he'd been the one to take hold of others and lead them through the dark.

There's no doubt in his mind that she'd recoil from him, if he were to reciprocate the gesture, and so he doesn't—instead, he merely hovers his free hand over her own (it's the thought which counts, isn't that right?), his eyes falling shut for a moment, perhaps two, as he listens to the sound of her voice. ]

Then that gratitude will be the end of you. [ And with a shake of his head, he opens his eyes, considering her with a veiled glance, a bewitching smile. ] Do you not realize it, what you've done? With a gift of a handkerchief...

[ The laugh which spills from his lips is cathartic and yet so very light of heart as he leans back, shifting his eyes once more toward the stars. ]

You've given me your favor, Lady Alice. [ Is he blushing? Perhaps, because he's happy, and there's just a small part of him which is unable to bear it. ] You've returned my kiss.

I'll not harm myself again, I promise you, and I'll not ask that you tell me more than what you are at ease with, but you are not mad, Alice, no more than I am. To turn away from you would be unthinkable.

[ Because they are more alike than she knows; her penchant for forgetting is so too his own, though where he suspects that she hadn't asked for the hole in her memory, he'd accepted power knowing full well that its accompaniment would be a curse. ]

Besides, you've yet to read to me, after all. And however much you may disagree, someone needs to look after you.

[ At this point, Alice was half-listening to him, huddled up in her blanket, sleepier than before. She was nodding at what he said, in an effort to make it look like she was being polite. Of course, of course, she's even muttered in between, settling herself with a bit of a sigh. It's only about a minute later Alice opens her eyes and fully understands what he says. Sion should be given some credit, Alice doesn't bother to correct him on the fact that she still thinks she's beyond a cure for sanity.

No, what she says has her recalling each and every flowery story her older sister would prattle on about fluffy gestures of affection and at her age, she remembered ribbons and handkerchiefs were apart of that.

That was not her intention. Blink her eyes open, it took quite a bit for Alice not to turn around and shove him off the ledge. There was blood on it, for goodness sake, what was she going to do with it after that, especially after he declared he ruined it? She puffs up, now more than accustomed to the warm feeling in her cheeks. Yes, yes, he's said he will not hurt himself, she's got that.

But, for once, Alice is acting like any other nineteen year old girl, turning back to him and pulling up her blanket. ]

Don't misconstrue, it wasn't my intention.

[ Calmly and coolly as ever. He seems kind, intelligent, and polite, but no, the thought is stuffed down and Alice's inward response a kiss of a hand doesn't count. ]

I wasn't going to keep it if there's blood on it, of any color. [ He's blushing? She's blushing. Alice promptly turns her gaze away from him. Did he say something about looking after her? What is that supposed to mean? ]

I was simply trying to be nice, I wouldn't ever think of it. [ That sounds a tad too mean, and Alice promptly corrects herself- ] That is to say, not because of you, it's not like that, I was just trying to be cordial.

[ Even in her culture, it's the same equivalent. Poor Alice, she was far too tired to realize or even consider it, and drops her head in her face and groans at herself. She'll just... pull the blanket over her head even more. ]

Aah, aah, you were being cordial, Lady Alice? [ Sion twitters and he laughs and oh, oh, he really can't—though her demeanor hasn't changed in the slightest (truly, the Lady is unflappable! she is the winter's frost which has settled across the land in the absence of the sun, unwilling and unable to be melted without the tender warmth of many someones!), she betrays herself. Not only has she returned his kiss, but so too has she returned his blush, and where she'd been quick to tell him not to misconstrue, she's swifter to amend the sentiment not once, but twice, and Sion must be terribly mean, because he's flustered her so, so many times and...!

He is entirely unwilling to cease and desist, not now, not on this night. ]

Could you be letting me down gently, then?

[ That isn't to say he's invested—he's having fun!—and yet he can't help but imagine a scenario where it were different. Where he could entertain the thought. Taking a Queen, as his attendants asked and his advisors implored, had always (and will always) be too unthinkable a thing. There is too much work to be done, a war which would span the whole of the Menoris continent to be waged, and a curse to be broken; these things were no one's burden but his own. To take another's hand, and lead them into the dark... Sion quite simply refused to do such a thing.

And yet, despite all his reservations, it's rather nice to imagine, isn't it? To pretend? ]

There is scarcely a Lady who might so boldly refuse the opportunity to become Queen of any country, much less my Empire, and so you, Alice...

[ With a shake of his head, he leans toward the neatly bundled blanket which is his friend, his hand (bloodied, still bound by Alice's handkerchief) pressed over his heart. ]

You may very well be the most astounding woman I've ever met.

Edited 2016-01-14 16:53 (UTC)

You're not serious, you're only teasing me.

[ He's worked up Alice enough to where she's waken up a little more. How can she rest her eyes when he's saying things like that? He's not serious, there's no way anyone would think of her like that. Fluster aside, Alice sharply turns to him with her blanket sliding off her shoulders. Letting him gently down...? ]

But I wasn't trying to--!

[ Compliments like this from Sion are a bit more bearable than they are from Gilgamesh, if only a little. Glancing at Sion's display, Alice can't help but let her fluster, frustration, and confusion overtake her. Alice promptly raises a hand to hit him against his arm, but not hard enough to actually hurt him, only to get her point across she didn't appreciate being teased. Besides, no one would really even entertain the idea of her in such a way.

He should be grateful he isn't standing, Alice wouldn't have hesitated kicking him in his shin. Teasing aside, Sion is relatively harmless and hasn't made any attempts to force himself on her and is far from lecherous to where he could earn a much more serious and painful outburst from Alice. Only Alice smacking his arm, muttering indignantly to herself and turning her gaze away. It's shame the thunder has stopped; there goes her excuse to stay out longer. ]

[ She's hit him. She's gone well and far enough as to take her hand against his arm, and though she could never truly hope to hurt him, he finds himself playing the part of wounded accordingly with a wince, pout, and widening of golden eyes all. It's all theatrics, really—he hadn't so much as flinched when he sliced his palm clean and open, and surely that must sting worse than any blow—but Sion sells it well, up until the point when he...!

Rolls his shoulders, first the right and then the left, arches his back, then pays mind to his hand, fashioning Alice's handkerchief into a bandage by way of a careful knot before dismounting the ledge with a soft, airy sigh. ]

I know. [ That she hadn't been trying to. That she meant him no sleight. That she would never believe in the title which he'd bestowed upon her, regardless of how, in that moment, his words had been earnest, guileless, and true.] I must confess, I was only biding time until the storm passed us by.

[ And now that it has, they can make their way to the Abel Inn, and perhaps Sion himself will for once take the lead...? ]

Now then, will you follow, or will I have to sweep you clean off your feet, and carry you over the threshold of the inn?

[ He'd do it, too, given proper opportunity and chance. But that is the extent of how much he'd force himself upon her—Sion is chaste, as pure as the driven snow and the color of his hair.

C o m p l e t e l y innocent. ]

Edited 2016-01-16 02:40 (UTC)

[ She knew it, he was teasing her. The way she crosses her arms exudes the words of "I thought so". Sion reacts in such a way that Alice snaps her gaze back to him, already to gear up protesting his reaction that she didn't hit that hard and she very well could have. It doesn't stop Alice from heaving out an exasperated sigh- ]

Honestly, if you're that insistent to be that theatrical, perhaps you should consider the theater.

[ Alice in her stubbornness was insistent on not budging from her spot. She wanted to drive home the point she could, again, handle herself, but also it was a way to spite him for flustering her so much. She sat there, looking up at him while lightly swinging her feet. Because he's teased her so much already, Alice actually doubts his words. Surely he wouldn't dare think of it.

But regardless of her spite and stubbornness, Alice's reasons to resist sleep were still the same in the end: she didn't want to deal with the nightmares. Of course her response would be to shake her head, her dark hair falling on her face. ]

I'm sorry, it's still too early; I didn't have plans to go back inside after the storm let up.

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