Rosalind Lutece (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
originallutece) wrote2017-09-22 05:41 pm
originallutece) wrote2017-09-22 05:41 pm
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[One eyebrow ticks up, suggesting that little bit of unintended innuendo wasn't lost on her, but she doesn't take offense. But that hesitance and flush is sweet, and she keeps her fingers where they are, the tips lightly tracing over the line of shoulder.]
I don't take well to crowds.
[Sad but true: she's simply not a people person. Rosalind hums softly as her fingers keep tracing him: closer towards his neck, towards the jutting bone of his clavicle, her touch more exploratory than anything else. There's a very small part of her staring in horror at the rest of her, because what is she doing, what the hell is she doing, this is a boy she barely knows (one night of curling up close aside) and she's feeling him up like she's a right to it--
But that's a very small part, emphatic but quiet, drowned out by this cove.]
. . . truthfully, Eggsy, I don't know. W-- I hadn't really thought that far, frankly, and most of the vague thoughts I had involved doing things now utterly inaccessible.
[It's a bit hard to visit New York in 1922 or Japan in the 80's when the whole world is destroyed.]
So I suppose for the first time in nearly two decades, I'm simply winging it.
I don't take well to crowds.
[Sad but true: she's simply not a people person. Rosalind hums softly as her fingers keep tracing him: closer towards his neck, towards the jutting bone of his clavicle, her touch more exploratory than anything else. There's a very small part of her staring in horror at the rest of her, because what is she doing, what the hell is she doing, this is a boy she barely knows (one night of curling up close aside) and she's feeling him up like she's a right to it--
But that's a very small part, emphatic but quiet, drowned out by this cove.]
. . . truthfully, Eggsy, I don't know. W-- I hadn't really thought that far, frankly, and most of the vague thoughts I had involved doing things now utterly inaccessible.
[It's a bit hard to visit New York in 1922 or Japan in the 80's when the whole world is destroyed.]
So I suppose for the first time in nearly two decades, I'm simply winging it.
[ No, the touch isn't comforting or reassuring — Eggsy doesn't know what it is, exactly, but he finds it difficult to keep his flush from spreading down his throat in reaction to her, ah, exploration. Again, he considers how divergent her behaviour is from the VR, especially when he's hardly clothed. Hard not to think, then, of how close they were in the cave and of how pleasant it might feel to touch her like that again. With his thoughts scattering, and her fingers inching near his neck, he ought to shake her off.
Yet pulling away seems impossible, especially when her answer proves more vulnerable than he expected. Perhaps she is from another time, making her transition to this world uniquely difficult. Regardless, he recognises the feeling of uncertainty. ]
That ain't easy. [ It's his way of saying I'm sorry without invoking pity. He closes his hand over hers, flattening her palm against his chest. After a moment, he tugs her hand away from his skin, holding it captive to brush his fingers over her knuckles. ] Even though I get the feeling you'll figure something out. [ Clever and intrepid as she is. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth tick up over a delightfully bold idea. ]
[ in a drawl: ] 'Course I'm around, if you ever want a wingman. [ He lifts her hand to his lips, smiling into the chaste kiss. ] Madam Lutece.
[ It's witty 'cause he's acting posh around someone who unironically introduced herself as Madam. He doesn't know whether he hopes she laughs or blushes. Any reaction would be thrilling, when she appears so composed. ]
Yet pulling away seems impossible, especially when her answer proves more vulnerable than he expected. Perhaps she is from another time, making her transition to this world uniquely difficult. Regardless, he recognises the feeling of uncertainty. ]
That ain't easy. [ It's his way of saying I'm sorry without invoking pity. He closes his hand over hers, flattening her palm against his chest. After a moment, he tugs her hand away from his skin, holding it captive to brush his fingers over her knuckles. ] Even though I get the feeling you'll figure something out. [ Clever and intrepid as she is. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth tick up over a delightfully bold idea. ]
[ in a drawl: ] 'Course I'm around, if you ever want a wingman. [ He lifts her hand to his lips, smiling into the chaste kiss. ] Madam Lutece.
[ It's witty 'cause he's acting posh around someone who unironically introduced herself as Madam. He doesn't know whether he hopes she laughs or blushes. Any reaction would be thrilling, when she appears so composed. ]
[It startles her, that's for sure, and for an entirely stupid reason. From the moment she woke up, she's gotten used to brisk handshakes and loose formalities-- a brief exchange of names, a curt nod or two, as casual as a swap of currency. Introductions lack the grandiose manners and formalities she'd grown up with, and while that isn't a bad thing, it is different.
And so to suddenly have something even remotely resembling something from home-- something from someone charming, someone she's even a little endeared to, sets her heart racing.
(Robert, her heart sings miserably, Robert Robert Robert, but he isn't here and it's unfair to compare someone to him; it's unfair that such a charming little action reminds her of him, but he was the only one to ever manage to straddle the line between genuine graciousness and impudent charm, how can she help but think of him?)
So she laughs, startled and amused and endeared. It only lasts a moment; soon she's pressing her lips together, biting it back.]
What a charming offer.
[She has absolutely no idea what wingman means, but that's all right, she can fake it.]
And what does that entail, dare I ask?
And so to suddenly have something even remotely resembling something from home-- something from someone charming, someone she's even a little endeared to, sets her heart racing.
(Robert, her heart sings miserably, Robert Robert Robert, but he isn't here and it's unfair to compare someone to him; it's unfair that such a charming little action reminds her of him, but he was the only one to ever manage to straddle the line between genuine graciousness and impudent charm, how can she help but think of him?)
So she laughs, startled and amused and endeared. It only lasts a moment; soon she's pressing her lips together, biting it back.]
What a charming offer.
[She has absolutely no idea what wingman means, but that's all right, she can fake it.]
And what does that entail, dare I ask?
[Good lord. Advanced but not uncommon . . . she can't imagine the levels of technology that would be required for such a thing.]
And can you access this network though them now?
And can you access this network though them now?
[ Finally she brings her hand down from her head, settling it back at her side. ]
No. For better or for worse, there are no compatible cables, as far as I'm aware. And even if there were, I don't know how well they would interact with the Orbiter's technology.
No. For better or for worse, there are no compatible cables, as far as I'm aware. And even if there were, I don't know how well they would interact with the Orbiter's technology.
[It seems an experiment worth testing, to be honest, or at least an avenue pursuing, but Rosalind bites her tongue.]
When were they installed?
When were they installed?
[ Idle curiosity is one thing, but this is getting to be too many questions. Ones Angel is not willing to answer freely, especially not without getting some answers herself. ]
Why don't you tell me how you were brought back from the dead?
Why don't you tell me how you were brought back from the dead?
Well I already had most of the wiring and stuff set up inside? It was mostly, uhh...mostly just. Just reattaching some stuff after I, you know, yanked it all out.
[ But that part isn't important okay pay no mind so that ]
Mirrors played a pretty big part in it.
[ But that part isn't important okay pay no mind so that ]
Mirrors played a pretty big part in it.
[guess what we're gonna pay mind to]
Why on earth did you yank it out?
Why on earth did you yank it out?
[That's fair enough. Rosalind would prefer to simply receive answers, but she's aware that's not how the world works.]
The machine used to kill me was a machine of my own invention, one that could tear apart time and space. It was sabotaged, and overloaded, exploding me and killing u-- killing me in an instant. But I woke, and found that I hadn't been killed-- and then again, I had. I was alive and dead, my cells scattered among all the universes.
Schrodinger's physicist, you might call me.
The machine used to kill me was a machine of my own invention, one that could tear apart time and space. It was sabotaged, and overloaded, exploding me and killing u-- killing me in an instant. But I woke, and found that I hadn't been killed-- and then again, I had. I was alive and dead, my cells scattered among all the universes.
Schrodinger's physicist, you might call me.
[ Having won a laugh and a compliment, he beams up at her. Although his actions achieved their desired effect, he doesn't release her hand just yet. ]
Means I'll be your back-up, if you want, while you're winging it 'round here.
[ A play on words and a genuine offer, if she ever wants someone around in this new world. He can't imagine navigating Kingsman without Roxy or exploring Olympia without Harry. Knowing someone's in your corner, even in small ways, makes all the difference. ]
Means I'll be your back-up, if you want, while you're winging it 'round here.
[ A play on words and a genuine offer, if she ever wants someone around in this new world. He can't imagine navigating Kingsman without Roxy or exploring Olympia without Harry. Knowing someone's in your corner, even in small ways, makes all the difference. ]
[He hasn't let go of her hand, but to her surprise, she doesn't tug it back. She has before. She's loathed when men took too many liberties, who held on just to say they had, who take and take and take simply because they can.
But this isn't that. Rosalind feels no sense of entrapment; she's certain he'd let go if she gave the slightest inclination she wanted him to. But no: he's holding on, and it's lovely to have those rough fingers sliding over her own slender ones, just as it was nice to feel his cool skin and the lines of his body.]
That had best not be a prelude to you leaving me now.
[But that's a very kind offer, and good god, she's still smiling. It's faint, but it's there.]
Come up here. I'm going to get a crick in my neck if I keep looking down.
[Or I mean, she could go into the water, that would be fair too, but fat chance of that.]
But this isn't that. Rosalind feels no sense of entrapment; she's certain he'd let go if she gave the slightest inclination she wanted him to. But no: he's holding on, and it's lovely to have those rough fingers sliding over her own slender ones, just as it was nice to feel his cool skin and the lines of his body.]
That had best not be a prelude to you leaving me now.
[But that's a very kind offer, and good god, she's still smiling. It's faint, but it's there.]
Come up here. I'm going to get a crick in my neck if I keep looking down.
[Or I mean, she could go into the water, that would be fair too, but fat chance of that.]
[ He almost says as much. Why not join me? (Or even I've heard I look best from this angle.) But she remains over-dressed, and he doesn't want to press her, lest she lose interest in being near him entirely. He sighs, making a show of being put-upon, squeezing her hand and guiding it back to rest on her knee. Not touching her there, mind, merely avoiding dropping her hand into the water. ]
Wouldn't dream of it. [ of leaving now, though he sounds amused by the implicated she'd like him to stay. ]
[ Dropping beneath the water, he enjoys a last refresher before planting his hands on the side of the pool and easily lifting himself up beside her ]
'Course you might still get wet. [ — from the water running rivulets down his skin, pooling beneath the damp fabric of his shorts and where his hands meet the ground, centimeters from her. Intentionally or unintentionally, following her orders has nearly pressed them side-by-side. He cants his head to give her a sideways glance, the curve of his mouth evident even from her intimate vantage point. ] Better for you?
Wouldn't dream of it. [ of leaving now, though he sounds amused by the implicated she'd like him to stay. ]
[ Dropping beneath the water, he enjoys a last refresher before planting his hands on the side of the pool and easily lifting himself up beside her ]
'Course you might still get wet. [ — from the water running rivulets down his skin, pooling beneath the damp fabric of his shorts and where his hands meet the ground, centimeters from her. Intentionally or unintentionally, following her orders has nearly pressed them side-by-side. He cants his head to give her a sideways glance, the curve of his mouth evident even from her intimate vantage point. ] Better for you?
Much.
[It certainly is a nicer view, she has to admit. Her eyes flick up and down his form, lingering on the curve of his hip and the leanness of his torso, and she really doesn't mean to give him a once-over, but it's hard not to stare at all that. He's a sight, and he is getting her wet, her shirt is getting damp by proximity and that ought to annoy her, but she can't be bothered to pay it mind.]
. . . you'd be a scandal where I come from, you know. This would be a scandal for about twenty different reasons, but you alone might just do it, Eggsy.
Which isn't to say I mind the sight.
[It certainly is a nicer view, she has to admit. Her eyes flick up and down his form, lingering on the curve of his hip and the leanness of his torso, and she really doesn't mean to give him a once-over, but it's hard not to stare at all that. He's a sight, and he is getting her wet, her shirt is getting damp by proximity and that ought to annoy her, but she can't be bothered to pay it mind.]
. . . you'd be a scandal where I come from, you know. This would be a scandal for about twenty different reasons, but you alone might just do it, Eggsy.
Which isn't to say I mind the sight.
[ Oh, well then. It all sounds posh and a little roundaboutly phrased, but surely that's a chat-up line. Chatting of some kind is happening, alright. If she's looking at him (and seeing far more than he can), he's allowed to peak at her, isn't he? To flick his eyes over her wet shirt for a moment and then refocus on her sharp features, particularly her pink mouth. No. Back to the eyes.
Regardless of her intentions, the thought of being a scandal is delightful. It sends mischief sparking across his eyes and a grin blooming wide enough to reveal the little gap on the left side of his teeth. ]
View ain't bad from here, either. [ said in low tone as he leans toward her, sending more water droplets to dot her clothes. ] But would you mind a scandal?
[ because kissing her, like he's consiodering doing right now, would be scandalous. ]
Regardless of her intentions, the thought of being a scandal is delightful. It sends mischief sparking across his eyes and a grin blooming wide enough to reveal the little gap on the left side of his teeth. ]
View ain't bad from here, either. [ said in low tone as he leans toward her, sending more water droplets to dot her clothes. ] But would you mind a scandal?
[ because kissing her, like he's consiodering doing right now, would be scandalous. ]
[Well then indeed, and for just a moment, Rosalind pauses. It isn't a hesitation, but rather a moment in which she allows herself the room to think.
So. So there's a man leaning in, clearly eager to kiss her. What does she want to do about that? No, wait-- there's only two real decisions she can make, so rather the question becomes: what are the factors that contribute to each one?
Emotional, that's the first thing that comes to mind, but ah, there's nothing here to worry about there. Flings, kissing and flirting and all that, have never been a problem when it comes to she and Robert. Love, that's another thing entirely, but Ros very much doubts Eggsy is the sort to take a kiss or two as an indication of love. No, if they do this (whatever this is), it's going to be something purely self-indulgent. It might be more on the sweet side (because he seems very sweet beneath that pride), but it won't be anything approaching romantic.
Is that selfish? Perhaps. But she hasn't gotten to be selfish since before her death, frankly. A hundred and twenty-two trials, god, watching the same man fail over and over, a hundred and twenty-two exercises in futility and then when it had finally all gone right, she and Robert had been denied their reward. So isn't she owed a bit of selfishness?
It's scandalous, too, but honestly, that's barely a thought. She's never much cared about the standards of others beyond what she needed to know to get ahead. And anyway, even if this was forbidden at home, they're hardly in Columbia, are they? The whole beach would be considered a scandal at home; a bit of kissing on top of it isn't worth much.
And he's quite appealing. And she's very warm, and her shirt is starting to stick to her skin, and while the logical little core at the center of her mind is impatiently listing out all the reasons she oughtn't do this (she doesn't know him, she doesn't know the repercussions, simply because he seems sweet doesn't mean he is, she's still establishing herself and what if he goes off to tell stories, what if this damages her reputation in some way, what if she can't find a job because of this, this is stupid, this is silly, she doesn't need this, she ought to just get up and go and dive into her work), she doesn't seem to really be able to hear them all that well.
All of that flashes by in a moment, and then her smile turns decidedly sharper.]
Would you? I'm at least a decade older than you, Mr. Unwin.
So. So there's a man leaning in, clearly eager to kiss her. What does she want to do about that? No, wait-- there's only two real decisions she can make, so rather the question becomes: what are the factors that contribute to each one?
Emotional, that's the first thing that comes to mind, but ah, there's nothing here to worry about there. Flings, kissing and flirting and all that, have never been a problem when it comes to she and Robert. Love, that's another thing entirely, but Ros very much doubts Eggsy is the sort to take a kiss or two as an indication of love. No, if they do this (whatever this is), it's going to be something purely self-indulgent. It might be more on the sweet side (because he seems very sweet beneath that pride), but it won't be anything approaching romantic.
Is that selfish? Perhaps. But she hasn't gotten to be selfish since before her death, frankly. A hundred and twenty-two trials, god, watching the same man fail over and over, a hundred and twenty-two exercises in futility and then when it had finally all gone right, she and Robert had been denied their reward. So isn't she owed a bit of selfishness?
It's scandalous, too, but honestly, that's barely a thought. She's never much cared about the standards of others beyond what she needed to know to get ahead. And anyway, even if this was forbidden at home, they're hardly in Columbia, are they? The whole beach would be considered a scandal at home; a bit of kissing on top of it isn't worth much.
And he's quite appealing. And she's very warm, and her shirt is starting to stick to her skin, and while the logical little core at the center of her mind is impatiently listing out all the reasons she oughtn't do this (she doesn't know him, she doesn't know the repercussions, simply because he seems sweet doesn't mean he is, she's still establishing herself and what if he goes off to tell stories, what if this damages her reputation in some way, what if she can't find a job because of this, this is stupid, this is silly, she doesn't need this, she ought to just get up and go and dive into her work), she doesn't seem to really be able to hear them all that well.
All of that flashes by in a moment, and then her smile turns decidedly sharper.]
Would you? I'm at least a decade older than you, Mr. Unwin.
If you're going to lie to me, Rhys, at least have the decency to lie well.
[Which gives her another little detail in his life: namely, that at some point somebody held him at gunpoint and made him tell them his life story.]
I'll keep that in mind for when I really need the information, shall I?
I'll keep that in mind for when I really need the information, shall I?
You never know.
[No, she's just being menacing on purpose. She's tired and a little afraid and she misses her Robert, and this is how it comes out: by her menacing others.]
But fine. Tell me more about how it's built, if you're going to be stubborn.
[oh my god ros he's not being unreasonable here]
[No, she's just being menacing on purpose. She's tired and a little afraid and she misses her Robert, and this is how it comes out: by her menacing others.]
But fine. Tell me more about how it's built, if you're going to be stubborn.
[oh my god ros he's not being unreasonable here]
[ Right??? Gosh. Rhys is doing a great job so far of not being an asshole in general if he does say so himself. ]
Wow, yeah I definitely want to tell you when you ask like that. Is that how you get people to do stuff for you back home?
[ ...until now anyway ]
Wow, yeah I definitely want to tell you when you ask like that. Is that how you get people to do stuff for you back home?
[ ...until now anyway ]
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