paradisa | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[ Her memory of last week felt like someone else had lived in her body, said and did things she would never do but leaving all the blame for her to bear. She remembers it all like a bad dream in which she holds no control of herself. It feels jarring, and for a moment she contemplated whether it would be better to keep acting like her younger self. Most preferred her thus. Sweetness itself, a rose without a thorn.

It is perhaps a good thing that she doesn't recall meeting Spike then because now it feels as if he's among the very few who wouldn't frown at seeing her this way, older and sadder. Being sad isn't so terrible if it means being stronger. If it means not letting herself be so easily hurt.

But Lucrezia doesn't want to be sad today. She even keeps a lid on her smile when she knocks on his door with a bunch of Madonna lilies that haven't yet bloomed. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For all the convenience, living in the castle isn't really a perfect choice when you got down to it. It makes for easy targets. Anyone who has suffered the amount of break-ins and misfortune in one contained area would probably have enough sense to find other living arrangements. At least after the first few times, and certainly after the first year or two.

And yet Spike is still around, tempting fate while napping on his couch with a book over his eyes, when there's a knock on his door. Ein hears it first, and if he were taller, might have been able to grab it for him. As it is, he's only worth enough to lick Spike's hand until he grumbles his annoyance and comes to his senses. Despite how these things usually go, he lazily gets up to answer it without so much as grabbing his gun first.

He can use that grogginess as an excuse as he stares in perplexed silence at Lucrezia, standing there with a bouquet in her hands.]

... Yo.

[ That may yet be the most unceremonious greeting Lucrezia has heard yet, but she was never so concerned with titles when she knows their true value (only a signature by her father, whether they be Kings or Queens). She chuckles instead, holding up that bouquet as the cost of entry. ]

Were you sleeping?

[Luckily he normally sleeps the same suit he wears the rest of the day, out of habit and practicality when he's never sure if he'll wake up in the same place he was in when he closed his eyes.

That makes it easier to claim that he was doing something more important, if he can think of it fast enough. Any moment now. Then it occurs to him that he shouldn't leave her standing out in the open like this; he takes the flowers and moves aside for her to enter.]

No, just... [He glances behind him at the book he has conveniently on the table.] Reading. Come on in.

[ Lucrezia takes pleasure in seeing others fumble in her presence, it's true, but Spike affords a different sort of joy precisely because he hides it so well. She thinks him a tempest behind an unperturbed surface and it's fascinating to see the ripples.

She gladly steps in though her eyes are fixed on him, as if to discover his lie. ]

Poetry, I hope. Tragic ones?

[He closes the door behind her, but now he's stuck with the more troubling issue of what to do with the flowers in his hand. At the moment he holds them like he expects her to take them back as soon as she gets comfortable.]

You know my tastes. [Smoother this time. And as much as she likes to pretend, she may even overlook the evidence and believe him.]

[ Lucrezia wanders slowly about the room to try and derive from it what kind of a man would create such a space for himself. She eventually takes a seat at the sofa and gestures for the little dog to come her way so she can pat its head. ]

Would you be happier had you read comedies instead?

[There isn't much to look at, unless you haven't seen a modern hotel room before. Functional but ordinary, the only way to tell someone lives in it is the full ashtray and clutter that the ghosts haven't gotten to yet.

Ein must seem starved for attention, because he trots right over instead of hiding like he did with the last guest they had over. Spike observes them as he follows, holding off on asking why she's here as he places the flowers on the table (over the book, in case she happens to glance at it.)]

I read the journal all the time.

[ Someone transient. Even inns would have more character, not that she would know, but it seems so in her imagination.

She is happy to dote on the dog, even reaching to scratch behind his ear as she has been told to do. Even his quip makes her laugh. The journal is a series of news as far as she's concerned, and there are few good news if any. She turns to the flowers then back to him. ]

Those should symbolize purity. Innocence. Do you agree?

[If he'd hoped that the flowers would be explained, that response doesn't immediately connect with him. Lucrezia always likes to keep him guessing.]

Is that why you brought them?

[ Explanations tend to be dull. Questions are more interesting than answers. The dog gets a kiss on the top of his head as she just laughs when it tries to lick her in return. ]

Hm? Because you are pure and innocent?

[Ein really knows how to ham it up. If he's not careful, Spike might suggest he move into the mansion.]

Does that need to be a question?

[ Best pet. How can you not cook his steak just right, Spike? Lucrezia just grins, patting the space beside her so he would join her on the sofa. This way it almost feels as if she's the hostess instead. ]

No. I would not dare question your innocence.

[Even if he was just sleeping on that couch, he seems confused at the concept. But that only lasts a few seconds, and he moves to sit on the far end.]

I bet. You know how temperamental I can be.

[ Ever careful, which only amuses her more. ]

I can recount many with worse temper.

[He has a bad habit of reading into things.]

I might have some unfair competition.

[ She scoots further onto the sofa and leans back. Maybe then he would relax. ]

Who? Joshua is hardly ever angry. [ Maybe never. ]

[And he thought he was doing so well at looking relaxed. He even shrugs for good measure.]

You must have had someone in mind.

[ Her former husband, but that's a thought that she has striven so hard to push back since her return. The dividing line. She tries to seem nonchalant in turn, even turning his way to smirk with mischief. ]

My brother.

[He smirks at her reply, if only because she mistook him for her brother on that occasion that won't be named.]

I'll try to stay on your good side in case he shows up then.

[ It's her turn to shrug, pretending she doesn't care, though mostly she just raises her eyebrows in reply. It doesn't matter, she can't let herself believe that he might come back lest the disappointment drive her mad. ]

You missed my good side by a handful of days.