♛ here is my muselist. ♛ post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line! ♛ can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy! ♛ feel free to make up a scenario at the start, or wait to see where things go.
[ keep talking. a relatively easy request, though the fact that he isn't looking at her concerns her. still -- inej had asked a question, and received an answer. far be it for her to argue now.
so she continues to run her thumb over his forearm, in a soothing motion, casting her mind around for something to talk about, before she settles on a story: ]
When I was with my family, I always wanted to walk the tightrope. I had to argue for weeks with my mother to allow me the opportunity. But my father taught me. And eventually, I decided I was ready for the high wire.
[ her tone sounds amused. the memory is a fond one, as she gently runs her thumb around in a circle. ]
I fell. I got distracted, and I landed in the net, but was hurt. A concussion. And after that, I refused to use the net. The net would hurt me more than the fall.
[ or so inej told herself. ]
I have not fallen since.
[ of her own accord, anyway. she does not count the fight amongst the silos, the cut highwire, the slashing of her arms. ]
[ In the silence as she thinks, he keeps his eyes trained on the motion of her hands, something to keep him grounded as his mind tries to recreate something long in the past. It's a relief, though, when she speaks up. The story didn't have to be meaningful, just had to fill the quiet space, but he appreciates the fact that she's telling him this.
About some of her past, before Ketterdam. A glimpse into what her family was like. He'd met her parents but it'd been a brief thing, wanting to give her the most time with people she thought she'd never see again.
Tension loosens in his chest, breathing going from panicked gasps to a more regular inhale, exhale, the worst of the memories fading. Finally, he meets her eyes, mouth pressing into a strained half-smile. ]
You're sure you don't have an invisible set of wings?
[ she immediately greets his gaze with a breathed laugh, shaking her head slightly as she gently squeezes his arms. ]
No wings. [ amused, sliding her hands down his arms briefly before letting go, settling her hands in her lap as she watches him. ] But when I was a girl, I wore a crown of flower petals, and would pretend to nearly lose my balance. So the petals would fall.
[ and her voice shifts from amusement into something more knowing. ]
Tourists would pay more if they thought I could fall. I think wings would have ruined the illusion.
[ When she pulls her hands away, he has a mixed reaction. Part of him misses it, the bit of warmth from her palms that he could feel bleeding through the suit coat. The other part is relieved. And then annoyed that he feels that way at all. It's not as though she'd been touching any skin. ]
Calculating.
[ But that's how they manage to get by: providing entertainment for tourists who don't know better. And a few kruge more can stack up, as they're both well aware. ]
If they were invisible, they wouldn't have needed to know. [ It does make it more exciting to know she doesn't, that every step out onto a roof or high wire is a testament to her skill. Though he can't say he'd hate it if there was an extra assurance she'd have something to catch her, just in case.
Maybe that's his own background talking, considering how well he'd landed after jumping off a bank roof. ]
I suppose, but having invisible wings would just make me lazy.
[ mildly, entertaining the silly hypothesis because it keeps him talking . . . but she tilts her head slightly, catching his gaze, her smile morphing into something a bit more soft. ]
How do you feel?
[ he sounds a little bit more like himself, and his breathing has calmed into something nearly normal. ]
[ Who knows, though? The entire theory is just that, a theory. An amusement at best.
At her question, he considers his words. Up until recently, touching anyone brought him a wave of disgust, a repulsion that kept him well away from coming in contact with a person. In the early days, immediately after stumbling out of the harbor, half drowned, he hadn't been able to handle touching anyone even with gloves on. Enough fist fights in the Barrel had cured him of that peculiarity fairly quick.
Now, he supposes, he'll need something similar: exposure. Do something enough that it becomes a habit.
Still— ]
Frustrated. [ His gaze drops to his hands momentarily, curling the fingers loosely into his palms. ] Not at you, just.
[ This. Himself. He hasn't gone through what she has and yet, she's the one holding her hand out time and again, without hesitation. ]
[ there's a soft noise of understanding, at that, before she pulls her legs up against her chest, her ankles crossed beneath her as she loops her arms around her knees, thoughtful. ]
I almost hit Nina, the first time she hugged me. And I still am getting used to Jesper.
[ it's said finally, with half a shrug. inej doesn't sound too bothered by it, because (1) nina could drop her where she stood any day of the week and twice on tuesdays and (2) nina understood, immediately, why inej's muscles had seized, why she had become so tense. and while she's never told jesper about her difficulty, inej is certain he wouldn't think twice. she can almost hear his how are you afraid of anybody, you're the scariest thing in the barrel in surprise. ]
I learned how to compartmentalize because I had to. [ she doesn't go into detail, because she doesn't necessarily have to. ] Now, I am learning how to . . . feel. And allow myself to feel it. And it is hard. It will likely never be easy.
[ all of this to say: ]
But you will learn how to exist fully, and so will I. It will just take time. And frustration, and mistakes. But it will happen; I truly do believe that.
[ they both deserve happiness, regardless of what cards the world has dealt them in the beginning. to hell with the rest. ]
no subject
so she continues to run her thumb over his forearm, in a soothing motion, casting her mind around for something to talk about, before she settles on a story: ]
When I was with my family, I always wanted to walk the tightrope. I had to argue for weeks with my mother to allow me the opportunity. But my father taught me. And eventually, I decided I was ready for the high wire.
[ her tone sounds amused. the memory is a fond one, as she gently runs her thumb around in a circle. ]
I fell. I got distracted, and I landed in the net, but was hurt. A concussion. And after that, I refused to use the net. The net would hurt me more than the fall.
[ or so inej told herself. ]
I have not fallen since.
[ of her own accord, anyway. she does not count the fight amongst the silos, the cut highwire, the slashing of her arms. ]
no subject
About some of her past, before Ketterdam. A glimpse into what her family was like. He'd met her parents but it'd been a brief thing, wanting to give her the most time with people she thought she'd never see again.
Tension loosens in his chest, breathing going from panicked gasps to a more regular inhale, exhale, the worst of the memories fading. Finally, he meets her eyes, mouth pressing into a strained half-smile. ]
You're sure you don't have an invisible set of wings?
no subject
No wings. [ amused, sliding her hands down his arms briefly before letting go, settling her hands in her lap as she watches him. ] But when I was a girl, I wore a crown of flower petals, and would pretend to nearly lose my balance. So the petals would fall.
[ and her voice shifts from amusement into something more knowing. ]
Tourists would pay more if they thought I could fall. I think wings would have ruined the illusion.
no subject
Calculating.
[ But that's how they manage to get by: providing entertainment for tourists who don't know better. And a few kruge more can stack up, as they're both well aware. ]
If they were invisible, they wouldn't have needed to know. [ It does make it more exciting to know she doesn't, that every step out onto a roof or high wire is a testament to her skill. Though he can't say he'd hate it if there was an extra assurance she'd have something to catch her, just in case.
Maybe that's his own background talking, considering how well he'd landed after jumping off a bank roof. ]
no subject
[ mildly, entertaining the silly hypothesis because it keeps him talking . . . but she tilts her head slightly, catching his gaze, her smile morphing into something a bit more soft. ]
How do you feel?
[ he sounds a little bit more like himself, and his breathing has calmed into something nearly normal. ]
no subject
[ Who knows, though? The entire theory is just that, a theory. An amusement at best.
At her question, he considers his words. Up until recently, touching anyone brought him a wave of disgust, a repulsion that kept him well away from coming in contact with a person. In the early days, immediately after stumbling out of the harbor, half drowned, he hadn't been able to handle touching anyone even with gloves on. Enough fist fights in the Barrel had cured him of that peculiarity fairly quick.
Now, he supposes, he'll need something similar: exposure. Do something enough that it becomes a habit.
Still— ]
Frustrated. [ His gaze drops to his hands momentarily, curling the fingers loosely into his palms. ] Not at you, just.
[ This. Himself. He hasn't gone through what she has and yet, she's the one holding her hand out time and again, without hesitation. ]
no subject
I almost hit Nina, the first time she hugged me. And I still am getting used to Jesper.
[ it's said finally, with half a shrug. inej doesn't sound too bothered by it, because (1) nina could drop her where she stood any day of the week and twice on tuesdays and (2) nina understood, immediately, why inej's muscles had seized, why she had become so tense. and while she's never told jesper about her difficulty, inej is certain he wouldn't think twice. she can almost hear his how are you afraid of anybody, you're the scariest thing in the barrel in surprise. ]
I learned how to compartmentalize because I had to. [ she doesn't go into detail, because she doesn't necessarily have to. ] Now, I am learning how to . . . feel. And allow myself to feel it. And it is hard. It will likely never be easy.
[ all of this to say: ]
But you will learn how to exist fully, and so will I. It will just take time. And frustration, and mistakes. But it will happen; I truly do believe that.
[ they both deserve happiness, regardless of what cards the world has dealt them in the beginning. to hell with the rest. ]