poly_chromatic | Entry 563; Day 1239

Current Location: Xanadu

Entry tags:

godchild - cain hargreaves

Entry 563; Day 1239

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I'm glad I decided to take a walk. I rather needed it. I remember going out walking like this in my first year here, on this same day. I was under the cherry tree like this, blowing the petals off my hat. We'd been invaded by those visitors the day before, and I'd been here all of ten days.

I enjoy the gardens--the formal gardens are familiar like Holland Park's--but I'm under the cherry tree right now, no matter how strange it is to have it bloom so late.

Now don't tell the gardeners, but I thought my room could use some cheering up again, so I've been 'borrowing' some of the flowers of late: today I have foxglove and Oleander, which both seem to be more leaf than bloom; poppies again, though they're going all to seed; belladonna, of which I happened to get the roots by accident; and Monkshood, one of my favorite flowers; all wrapped up in brown paper--a slightly ragged, but still respectable, bouquet. Their lives are so short--I'll probably keep coming back and 'borrowing' more. I don't think the gardeners will notice the disappearances--

It's still rather remarkable, this cherry tree. I couldn't tell you how old it is--it must be ancient. And it is, I'm told, dangerous. But of course it is. What in this City isn't dangerous?

There's starting to be a small mountain of cherry petals on my hat next to me. I keep blowing them off the top. I'm going to be picking them out of my pockets for days after this.

I was still learning how to use my Network device then, that first time I sat under this cherry tree--with my coat, too, of course, since I was more used to London damp then. And I wondered, at the time, why it was that I'd brought the thing along. But, of course, the answer is the same now as it was then: to watch all of you go about whatever it is you're doing.

No, some things really don't change.

Well, if anyone needs me, you know where I am.

~C.

[ooc: Indulge me and my annual tradition. It's my birthday, and in celebration (call it that), I send Cain out on a walk through Xanadu. Come and say hello if you like. Action is very much welcomed.]

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You watch for bad father! No forget he be much sneak!

Yes, I know. But I doubt he'd try anything in the open, you know.

[See the rather large image of Piglet's face blinking back at you. ~~Or just from the screen if Cain's video is not enabled.~~]

I d-do?

Apparently you do, yes.

Oh! Well, that's Good!

[Have a very pleased looking Piglet. It's Good and probably very Useful to know things.]

[Cain rather wishes Merry were here. She'd certainly be enthralled by what appears to be a talking toy. And not one brought out by a curse.]

It certainly can be, if you were to need me for some reason. Or if you wanted to avoid me.

[He gulps and gives a little jump backwards, looking suddenly a bit uneasy.]

... sh-should... should I want to a-avoid you?

Do you think you should?

[Well, this is a Very big question for such a small animal. Piglet takes a nervous few steps backward, just in case.]

W-w-w... a-are you a f-fierce kind of anim- I.. I mean Ch-Christopher Robin th-that might like p-p-pouncing on small animals?

No, I'm not very much inclined towards pouncing on small animals. I'm not really inclined towards pouncing at all.

[Where there is nostalgia and reminiscing, so too there must be a Rosella--and indeed, here she comes, making her approach gradually enough that it's not hard to spot her from a fair distance off. Somewhat notably, she's got a small covered basket on one arm, hanging by its handle, and her dress today is white instead of her usual red.]

[Well, yes, of course he notices her. How can he not, having known her for quite some time now. And certainly by now he even knows her walk and her preference for the colour of her dress--so then there's one familiar part and one unexpected part. The white suits her, though.

He stays under the tree a moment longer but, as she approaches, he does--as a gentleman should--stand to greet her.]

[He makes a picturesque sight beneath the cherry tree, his hat dusted with fallen petals and the ones still attached to the branches forming a lovely contrasting backdrop to his dark hair and attire. It always makes such an odd tableau, Cain and flowers, but it's always a pleasing one, too.]

You have petals in your hair, you know.

Have I?

[An almost self-conscious glance up through the hair that forever falls in his face (it's part of his charm, surely) as though he could see them. And he almost reaches to brush them away--as though that would do any good with so many still falling.]

That's what you get for lingering under a cherry tree, I suppose. Here.

[And she does reach out to gently dust a few out of his hair, more as an excuse for the light contact than anything else.]

There, that's better.

You'll have more than a few in your hair soon enough.

[Faint smile~]

Then I suppose we'll match, won't we? Since I did come to sit with you awhile, if that's quite all right.

Did you? I wouldn't mind in the least if you did.

Mmhmm. It's a nice day for it, and I've been cooped up in the Blue Light all morning--or it feels as though I've been cooped up there, at least. Which is a bit strange, really, since I'm sure I've spent just as much time in the Library before, and I don't recall feeling the same way about that.

[She finds herself a seat, smoothing out her skirt and settling her basket at her side.]

Does it all still look the same as it did five years ago?

[He, of course, joins her there a moment after. He looks around, considering for a moment...]

I suppose it both does and doesn't. The City is similar enough, though it's not entirely the same. I mean, it could hardly stay exactly the same. People have come and gone, one building or another has changed, there are new things in the City, and I certainly know of things that have happened in those five years which rather change how I look at it all.

[Turning to her.]

I suppose I'm not looking at it with the same eyes as I had then. It was all so strange then.

It's funny, really. I certainly don't miss being so puzzled over everything, or feeling as though I was always so out of place because so many things were so new...but looking back on it now, there was something lovely about the strangeness, too. So many things seemed so full of wonder, and we hadn't said so many goodbyes.

[Because of course, it's something she never forgets--that as long as her stay has been here, his has been and will always be even longer still.]

I certainly don't miss having Princess Rue ordering my room to be stripped of anything that could be used as a weapon...

Still, it was rather full of wonder. And I was quite determined to unravel the mystery of the Carousel and the Clock.

And Fakir didn't like you, wasn't that how it went? But they came around to you eventually.

He didn't trust me, I know that much. I'm not sure he ever really liked anyone.

Oh, don't, he was perfectly nice once one got past his grumpiness. And even that was mostly an act, I think.

[It gets a soft laugh out of her, remembering.]

And Rue and her prince were married in the Opera House in the fall. She guessed I was a princess before I ever told anyone I was, you know. I remember being so nervous about telling her, and then she wasn't the least bit surprised.

She as good as knew I had a title before I said anything. I think that may have been why I was allowed to stay in the opera house at all. She had some skill for it, I suppose.

Well, it's not as though you make it very hard to guess! But you're right, I think she did rather just have a knack for it.

Considering I'm fond of introducing myself with my title, no, I suppose I don't.

Did you ever meet the Lady Lailis or was she here and gone before you arrived? She was a queen, though in exile.

I don't think I ever did, no. I'm sure I would've remembered her if she'd introduced herself as a queen, but it could be that our paths just never crossed. What was she like?

I don't think she was so inclined to introduce herself as a queen, but she very much was one. She was very quiet and rather retiring. I think she'd suffered a great deal in her world before she came here.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. But I do hope things were better here for her, at least? Especially if you were her friend.

I think she was just as glad to leave the City as she was to arrive here, really.

[Rosella, you've known him long enough to recognize that his smile is just a little pained.]

[Oh, she sees it. And that just creates a dilemma, because now she very much wants to know more, but she has a feeling she'll be asking for trouble if she presses too much further.]

She didn't like it here?

[It's a safer question, she thinks, than do you miss her.]

She longed to be with someone else in another place.

[In the Underworld or the Afterlife or Hell--but certainly with that person in death.]

And that person was waiting for her back home?

In a way, I think.

Anyway--it's a shame you never met her. Even He-Who-Kills was taken with her and declared himself her servant.

I'm sure I would've liked her. She sounds lovely, and I'm sorry I missed her.

[A moment of silence is kept.]

If you expect me to wax nostalgic about everyone I've met in all my time here, you may be here for quite some time.

I wasn't planning to ask you to, but I'm in no hurry to go, either.

[She's slightly inclined toward him by now, leaning in on instinct, and as predicted, there are petals dusting her hair.]

I like listening to stories just as much as I like telling my own.

Yes, but yours tend to have happier endings than mine.

[She really is quite close, isn't she? ... ... ... And there are petals in her hair... ... ...

So, slowly though not hesitantly, he reaches out to brush them away...]

I told you you'd have petals in your hair soon enough.

[His hand lingers a little, though.]

That doesn't mean I don't want to hear them, when you're willing to tell me.

[She doesn't mind in the least, and it shows in the way she tilts her head into his hand, very slightly.]

Did you manage to get them all?

Most all of them, I think. Not that it'll last for very long.

[But he doesn't draw his hand back just yet. Instead, carefully, hoping she'll permit him this little indiscretion, he traces the curve of her face with his fingertips.

And then, if she will permit that, he will lean in closer.

And then, if she will permit even that, he might try to kiss her. Just once. And softly.]

[Well, there are worse places for a kiss than beneath a (possibly evil) cherry tree, and at least there's very little chance of a lake monster rising up to drown him this time, so that's always uplifting.

There was a time, once, when she would've thought far too much about this, but she's come to learn that sometimes it's all the better to just close her eyes and acknowledge that it's nice, and welcomed, and she likes it when he does, tipping her head a little in response, leaning into it a little in reply.]

[Certainly, there are: under curse-grown mistletoe, for instance. Or near a certain lake wherein lives a certain creature... A rose garden might be best, but this might do well enough for the moment.

He should give a little more consideration to how and what she might think of such a gesture, this rather spontaneous but chaste (well, he's trying for that, at least) kiss. In all truth, although it may be lightly given, the intent is not quite so light. It's been a while since he kissed her last, he's quite sure. But that isn't the reason for it.

He holds to it for a few moments. But, even after, he still keeps close and he can't help another of those almost-but-not-quite pained smiles.]

I am glad that I met you too, Rosella. And I am glad you're still here, even as little as I'd wish the City on anyone.

[It's hard to look at him when he smiles like that, sometimes, because in a strange way they always seem more at home on his features than the fleeting, genuine ones he so rarely lets her see. There was a time, once, when she honestly believed the reason for her stay in the City was to change that, to break the curse that hangs over him. But in moments like this, she catches herself wondering if it isn't almost something simpler than that, and that not every story needs a broken curse and the promise of an ever after to be a happy one.]

I don't regret a minute of it. Not since it meant having the chance to know you.

[And it's purely on impulse that she follows up on his kiss with one of her own.]

[...oh--oh! Being kissed now. Yes. This is good. Surprising but good. Surprises are often good. Especially when they are...kisses. Yes.

It's fortunate that she did, really, since it kept him from saying what he meant to say next.]

[It just goes to show how far she's come, really; her seventeen-year-old self would've been scandalized at such forward behavior, more likely than not.

It doesn't last much longer than his did, her kiss, and when she does draw back at last, it's not very far. But even so, there's still that look of faint wonder in her eyes, because even with the number of times they've kissed before, it's still something she'll always find a bit thrilling.]

[What is there to say at a time like this? He's more than content to stay just where he is, looking into her eyes (blue, of course, and a little surprised)]

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Entry 563; Day 1239

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