paradisa | (no subject)

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zelman clock

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[Galadriel;]

If you aren't otherwise occupied, could I convince you to humor me for a while? I promise I'm in a much better mood than I was last time.

[Lucrezia;]

I was in a very poor mood the last time we spoke. I'd like to make it up to you.

Would you like to go out for coffee sometime?

[Faye;]

Yo, haven't seen you around in a while. Want to go get drinks or something?

[Public;]

[written in his ~~girly~~ neat handwriting.]

I think it's telling when the the bizarre and the absurd start to feel like any other day around here.

Perhaps soon it will feel like the powers-that-be are just trying too hard.

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I can hear it. I trust in it, and it doesn't lead me astray.

[which is a lot like faith. or like being crazy. but whatever.]

[ Whose blood, she wants to ask, but because the waitress has excellent timing, here comes their drinks. ]

Pleasures must lose their charm after so many years.

[eheeee his Coke is here.]

You find new pleasures. And some things never get old.

[he sips his drink. delicious~]

[ He seems to enjoy that coke so much that it amuses her. ]

Such as drinking?

Mm. [it's the simple things, man.] Have you tried Coke Cola before?

I have tried soda... [ Mun is sure it was Dr. Pepper. ]

Try this one. [he pushes his glass towards her.] It's the best.

[he has a huge bias. must steer her away from Pepsi at all cost.]

[ She takes the offer eagerly and takes a sip. Her own plant-milk drink tasted strange. The soda makes her laugh. ]

Delicious.

Of course. [he will just quietly slide her plant-milk drink towards himself and start sipping that.]

[ She smiles at him, fondly. ]

What other pleasures have not faded over time, Zelman?

[...ah, yes. he hums a note while he tries to think of answers that don't involve making other people miserable.]

Books, stories. Song. Wide, open spaces. The quiet of a cloudy day.

[and he thinks it's funny that she's giving him such a fond look again.]

[ She drops her gaze down to the Coke and slides it back to him. ]

Do you hear the sound of the sunlight?

Is that asked in seriousness, dove?

[he'll take his drink back with a little smirk and slide hers over again.]

[ She looks at him and considers. ]

With utmost gravity, Zelman.

Then yes.

[he folds his hands more matter-of-factly on the table in front of him.]

It's rather like tin.

That must sound terrible. Am I louder still than this tin?

No, no. You sound like an angel.

[he chuckles to himself and shakes his head--because that was bad, even for him, and he gives it a moment of proper thought.]

No. More like a tree.

[ She tries to stifle a grin, but she has heard that before. ]

Like a breeze ruffling the leaves?

The way that some tree bark feels under your fingers. [with his arm propped up on his elbow, he holds up his hand and splays his fingers for some illustration of what he means.] Smooth, but full of intricacies. Little knots and cracks. Soft, but not giving.

[he puts his hand back down.] That is what you sound like.

[ She follows his fingers with her eyes, a smile playing at the corner of her lips as she decides on whether this is a compliment. ]

Am I so intricate?

I think you're more intricate than you pretend to be.

[...but that reminds him of something, so he stops to sip his drink again.]

But I appreciate that characteristic in people.

So you've seen through my disguise.

Do we seem like riddles to solve for you?

Yes. [without hesitation, of course.] It's much more fun that way.

Ah. [ She takes the time to take another sip of her plant-milk. ] How long do you suppose I can amuse you?

I don't know. You've got an awfully charming personality.