Not supposed to let it get to you

[floreatnoctem]

Characters: Chidori and Dualscar
Setting: The Library
Format: Action
Summary: HIC knows, and Dualscar thinks he's going to convince Chidori to pretend they're no longer moirails.
Warning: Dualscar's overdramatic tendencies, Chidori giving fewer fucks than usual



[It's unusual for Dualscar to actually request for her to be somewhere. Usually, she just finds him when she feels it's been far too long since she's seen him. Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't mind him a little more closely, considering what she's meant to do- but there's only so much she can do, between keeping track of him and the rest of Strega. Maybe she'll dedicate a little more time to keeping him out of trouble though- just in case he's been feeling neglected.]

Dualscar?

Comments

[orphans]

[dualscar was handling things more poorly than usual, to put it mildly.

granted he'd only just called for this, but that didn't mean he hadn't been remunerating his meeting with the empress ever since it'd transpired. and by remunerating, generally tearing apart whatever little pieces of himself the condesce had left over. and that in itself would be a dramatization, but fuck if it didn't feel that way.

thus, his pacing of the library for the past ten minutes or so. when she arrives, he'll appear a bit ... more disheveled, and as someone who likes to keep themselves prim and proper, this is noteworthy. there's also a bruise covering a side of his face, but that's less so. his tone is a bit clipped, impatient. don't take it to heart, however much he is.]

Chidori.

[floreatnoctem]

[If the pacing hadn't been enough of a clue, the tone of his voice certainly was, and Chidori gave one of her customary blinks of something approximating surprise. She paused in her approach to take him in carefully, noting the dishevelment with thinly-veiled curiosity, the tension in his frame that was almost palpable compared to how controlled he usually attempted to appear in front of her. But more than that, what caught her attention the most immediately was the bruise on the side of his face- and she knew she wasn't going to like whatever it was that he said. If he'd gotten into a fight, a feud, with one of the other trolls, she wasn't entirely sure what her role in that would be, aside from attempting to keep him from perpetuating it.

But that could wait, for a few moments at least, while she finished crossing the space between them, raising a hand to his cheek, brow furrowing slightly.]

You're hurt.

[Her instinct, of course, was to reach for her evoker with her other hand, hidden carefully in the folds of her dress.]

Let me fix that up.

[orphans]

[his hand shoots up to intercede the action, to cover her own. though he is mindful of his claws, there is a certain pressure to his hold.]

Leave it.

[his hand lingers there for a moment, before he brings them both down, to entwine his fingers with hers. then he turns away, looks away completely almost as if he's.. (oh man get a load of this) ashamed. to a keen eye, one may also be able to discern how shallow his breathing is.]

Somewhere more... private.

[floreatnoctem]

Leave it?

[The flat disbelief in her tone is almost palpable, her tone heavy and pointed. She doesn't like that, not in the slightest, and despite how careful his hand is taking hers, she doesn't like the words that follow as she's tugged elsewhere.]

More private.

[Again, flat disbelief as she surveys the empty library and then turns her gaze back to him, brows rising. She dug her heels in a little, though she knew it wouldn't do much good if he really wanted to move her, and frowned up at him.

Do you see her actually emoting here, Dualscar? You are legitimately worrying her. B| ]

...what is going on?

[orphans]

[it doesn't deter him, tightening the grip he has on her hand. he gives her a look as if to say not now, for his uncalled for paranoia is getting the best of him. or perhaps it was called for, as at this moment he felt them both in danger.

and they were, in a sense. if he can help it, he'd rather not any more harm befall... well, either of them. especially if it could easily be prevented. he stops at a door, has to let go of her to open it and step aside. it appears to be a... closet. somewhere that's certainly private enough, and fulfills any criteria he'd had for such perfectly.]

In.

[there, another red flag. when orphaner dualscar willfully compromises his own comfort, once can see something is definitely wrong.]

[floreatnoctem]

In? There?

[She goes, though not without hesitation, peering over her shoulder at him. She doesn't like this- isn't sure where this is going- but she's going with it for his sake if nothing else. It's dark, and there's not much in the way of light- but she's never been afraid of the dark, and she's never much needed much in the way of light.

She turns to face him as he enters the small space behind her, and if he looks closely, he might notice the odd, dim glow in her pale, golden eyes.]

Dualscar, what in the world is going on?

sorry smut icon uhh

[orphans]

[dualscar closes the door, causing the area to darken further. and yes, as one who has excellent night vision, the glow of her eyes won't go unnoticed for long; as that is something his countless biology books haven't told him to be exactly a usual phenomenon.

but that's after he gets over himself. marginally. once inside, he leans against the wall heavily, horns scraping against it as he slides downs to a sitting position. with his head bowed he keeps his eyes fixated upon the floor, a hand clutching at his side.]

Her Imperious Condescension... does not approve 'a our relationship.

w e l p

[floreatnoctem]

...your Empress.

[It takes some doing, but she manages to rearrange her skirts so that she can kneel in front of him, though she does wind up leaning forward over him a little. She doesn't miss the way his hand is clutching his side, and makes a note to heal that as well as his face before their conversation is over. She hesitates only momentarily before raising a hand from her skirts to settle on the uninjured side of his face, expression more somber than usual.]

So she does not.

[And if that has anything to do with the injuries on him, she will not be pleased to hear it.]

What does that matter? Whom you choose to quadrant is hardly something that affects her.

[orphans]

[dualscar meets her gaze, his rather forlorn, when she rests a hand at the side of his face. he neither tenses nor flinches at the touch, and would meet it with his own if he had one to spare. but it's only a moment held before he looks to the side-- to the minimal amount of light filtering through the door's threshold.

perhaps she wouldn't understand. perhaps she couldn't understand, as they were too different. he'd rather not think that at all, with how dismal that path would surely prove itself to be. dualscar already had his mind made up. and he planned to stick with it, no matter how selfish the means.]

It embarrasses her.

[which is more than enough of a reason for the empress to kill; a right of hers. and he'd been spared as his punishment.]

[floreatnoctem]

Why? What effect does it really have on her?

[She doesn't understand, because she's never been one much for authority to begin with, and much less for letting the opinions of others affect her. She doesn't see why the Empress is so invested in this- or why Dualscar seems to be taking her opinion so hard. Perhaps they are too different for her to understand, but that doesn't mean that wherever it is this is heading is justified.]

It really should not bother her unless she wants it to.

[After all, it's supposed to be a good thing, isn't it? This whole 'moirallegiance' thing? It's supposed to help him, keep him safe, keep him out of trouble. If she's managing, then what's the problem?]

[orphans]

She expects what a troll's blood denotes 'a them.

[and a perfectly reasonable expectation that is, he thinks. it's unfortunate how ridiculous it must sound to someone not as entrenched in their society as he is. or rather, was. the grip he has on his side increases, claws beginning to mar the fabric.

the fact that his empress isn't so far removed from him does give him a fleeting sense of hope, however; one that is perhaps cruel in itself. she does care, if only in the most selfish of ways. and that is exactly how he does, too.]

I have failed her.

[floreatnoctem]

[Her other hand moves to the wrist of the hand at his side and she squeezes gently, prompting him to let go, even as her face goes very, very still. She's already doll-like, but the way her face seems to just freeze, completely expressionless, only makes that more prominent.]

So because she does not approve, I am no longer good enough?

[If there is one thing Chidori will not do- and she is certain he's realized this by now- it's sugarcoat things. If something needs to be said, then she will say it, no matter how it comes out sounding or who it ends up hurting. Her hand on his face shifts down, fingers curling beneath his chin, and she pushes up gently so that he can meet her eyes.

She will not let him run away from this. He's going to face her if he's going to try and do this after the effort she's put into this for him.]

Or am I misunderstanding what it is you're trying to imply?

[orphans]

[he does, albeit slowly. and the last person that had wanted eye contact with him as such, had been the condesce herself. this detail is already well-ingrained into his thinkpan as he does as bid. it's then that he makes note of the faint glow of her eyes, how unnatural that appeared to be for her kind-- and in fact, was.

but he refrains from comment, as he is floored by hers.]

You are always good enough.

[if only by the earnestness in his voice, it's sincerity. she's too good for him, just as her imperious condescension is and always will be. and still, he wants them both, and then he'd rather keep what he has-- even if it means defiance.]

But I do not wish to upset her further, either.

[floreatnoctem]

So then what, Dualscar?

[Her fingers slip away from his chin, moving upward to his forehead, gently brushing his hair back. She had an inkling of where he was going- there were really only two choices- and she didn't want to believe he'd honestly try and be so selfish.]

Will you be rid of me and abide by her wishes? Or will you disobey and remain my moirail?

[She doesn't want to say it, but sometimes with Dualscar it was necessary to lay out things most people would not think to go attempt.]

You realize that you cannot have both?