milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[this is a sight that hasn't been seen for a while...]

[Delia, in a booth, drinking. If one is observant, you could see that she looks very pale and her eyes are red, but only the blind could not see her drinking.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(OOC: placeholder tag for massive slowtime, if you please!)

Valentine sees her. Of course he sees her - he always does. But today instead of smiling in peasure his forehead creases with worry.

"Delia? What is wrong, dear heart?"

[ooc: Sure!]

[she glances up, and blinks to try and focus her eyes]

Um. I'm...not having a good day.

He gestures to the other side of the booth. Or to her side. Her choice.

"Might I sit?"

[her side]

Please.

So he slides in next to her, and offers an arm, if she'd like to lean into it.

"Care to talk, or simply to have company?"

[she curls up next to him, ducking under the arm to have it fall on her other side]

I don't...I don't know. Exactly.

So he pulls her to him, and kisses the top of her head, and lets her be.

[and she doesn't shake, doesn't cry, just shuts her eyes and stays there in the warmth of his arms.]

He wraps his arms around her, and doesn't say anything, for a while. Then, softly, "it is beautiful, my city. Fair Verona. With her towers and plazas and gardens. Shaded alleys and soft sunny terraces. Her men are gentle and her women fair, and her courts are the envy of all Italy."

His thumb strokes her cheek softly.

"She is all about with flowers and vines, and water everywhere. Everywhere the sound of voices, and music, and singing."

[a little smile]

She sounds lovely.

"She is."

He rubs his cheek gently against her hair.

"She will suit you well."

We can't...can't stay long. Not as the dead.

[and today those words just hurt and hurt and hurt]

Valentine frowns over the top of her head. Now, there's a knotty problem, one that hadn't occurred to him. Perhaps there is some way around it. . .

"We shall see, dearest," is all he says.

[a quick glance, but she just nods. Too much time around Roger and Thom, maybe]

Okay.

He ruffles her hair, gently.

"Canst help me brainstorm perhaps."

[she nods, but doesn't curl away]

Josie and I...we are spirits. Souls, I guess, as our bodies are in Tortall.

"So," simply. "You are still you. All of import is here. If you are away too long, what then?"

We would fade, I think.

He nods, slowly.

"That we cannot have. Perhaps. . . I could bind your souls to an object, temporarily. That is simple enough."

He frowns.

"That should keep you there. Then on our return I could simply cancel the working. Or even make it only to work in my world."

[false-lightly]

Well, we aren't going back to ours.

"No. . ." Thoughtfully.

"I must speak with this Thom. . ."

His pale eyes seem even paler, dreamy. Perhaps his alchemy could work there. After all, if they have one magic, perhaps they have others.

He doesn't know about the other forms of magic on Delia's world, yet. He only knows the Gift - not Wild Magic or the desert magic of the Bazhir or the academic leanings of the university mages. . .

Short, red hair and purple eyes. Rather large ego. But...he was the youngest to achieve his rank, so he's very good.

"Aye," he nods, "Alanna said we should speak. Perhaps, if my magic worked in your world. . ."

He draws her in again.

"'Tis not a promise."

No, but...it's an idea.

"Aye, it is. We shall see, hmm?"