poly_chromatic | [accidental video] mere mortals watched them fly

Entry tags:

angel sanctuary - raphael

[accidental video] mere mortals watched them fly

[Have a look at Raphael's tiny, mostly unnecessary kitchen. It's in a slight amount of disarray, with various groceries haphazardly lining what little space exists, and liquid dripping out of the base of a blender, down the countertop and to the floor.]

[Interestingly enough there are no dirty dishes.]

[Raphael's back is to the camera as he first glances at, then leans out the window, grumbling at the view. Or views. He doesn't wave back at the bathers, slamming the window shut.]

The one time I'm really not in the mood for hot springs.

[and as he grabs a sponge, he notices the device]

Oh, fantastic.

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Nonsense. I've never met anyone too demanding for me.

[... well, if he had, they were promptly abandoned. he considers for a moment, then takes off his shoes and rolls up his pants legs before dipping his feet into the water.]

What would that take? Your interest, I mean.

Self-awareness. Self-sufficiency. Cleverness, cruelty. Or the potential to eke out all of the above.

[She lifts her drink to her mouth before offering,]

You've been interesting.

And have I been all of the above? That's not an altogether flattering list.

[but he hardly sounds as though he minds at all, tracing a finger on the glass idly.]

Even if it's appropriate. You've pegged me better than most from the start.

You've been enough of the above. I like liars.

[Not all of whom were openly cruel, but the art of it required some semblance of it. Carla had enough cruelty to spare anyway.]

Does that bother you?

Why?

[a shrug]

A little bit. But it's happened before.

[There is a pause, where she is clearly contemplating just how honest she feels like being.]

Controlling information is power, especially when done well.

[She shrugs herself. There is, if he cares to analyze that far, an underlying message to that statement. She's not overly interested in sharing what she knows about him, that would take the value out of it.]

Preaching to the... how does that expression go? Choir. Yes.

[another swallow. his drink's half-gone already.]

Or if not the choir, at least the pianist.

[but he's talking too much. and much as he'd like to say it was just to fill in her silences, he knows it's really nothing more than his own usual habit. he catches that, and it worries him.]

And what would you plan to do with that power?

Keep it for myself.

[And she has learned to value such small pleasures. She knows what it is to be completely helpless, ruled over by a god she adored only to be scorned for it, to be left rotting in a corner. These little tokens of power quite precious to her indeed.]

Come on, Carla. There's no point to it if it's just kept and not displayed.

[She looks over at him quietly.]

I don't want to predicate my pleasure on others.

[Doesn't want to, often does, and hates herself for the dependency duly.]

But what else is there?

[there's more nonchalance in his voice than he quite means to have, and he clears his throat, glancing away to stare at the water.]

I'm serious.

Self-satisfaction. Self-sufficiency. Self-respect.

[Self-sufficiency, there it is again. It was the ultimate in her worldview, the most beautiful and most powerful trait anyone could possess. She misses it in herself. She misses her self. She had suffered so much to keep her rationality, her mind, she'd given up everything else... it wasn't worth it. She isn't happy.]

What's any of that without someone else to measure it up against?

[devil's advocate, maybe. sour grapes, maybe. he hasn't felt self-respect, really felt it, in... well, far longer than he'd care to admit. he finishes off the drink as he waits, unable to resist a little-too-blithe--]

This is the longest I've engaged in straight conversation with a woman in years, you know. I'm out of my element.

[She laughs for him, a low and exhausted sound.]

Sorry. [Carla rarely apologizes in earnest, and now isn't one of those times, dry sarcasm.] I'll just offer to go down on you next time.

[Spare him the trauma. She wonders just what it is that makes him so determined to treat the women around him as inconsequential. Maybe it's to protect himself, though maybe she wouldn't suspect that at all if she hadn't eaten that little memory of his.

She tips her head back to take in the last of the fruity drink. Whatever the answer, the questioning is a welcome distraction from her own miserable thoughts. She understands why Chase does it to her.]

[the fact that he doesn't even blink at the words probably betrays him. badly. the uneven grin only cements it.]

Careful, I might hold you to it. I'll return the favor.

[now's the time for a couple more throwaway bits of flattery that he figures she'll laugh off, but he can't seem to manage. he'd tried to think it was at least partially having to talk through the device that was to blame, but it wasn't that. something about her just left him chilled. a rare feat.]

[The glass gets set back down between her knees quickly. Years old nerve damage hasn't made her the most coordinated, and she doesn't trust herself not to drop it.]

Thanks for the drink.

[And maybe when she said that she was too demanding for him, she meant that she was far too aware of his bullshit to let him wear that security blanket into a bed with her. He'd be out of his element. She's alright with that though. Sex was meaningless, entirely throwaway. He's a little more interesting than that.]

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