feels more than kind of bad about... the awkward, awful joke they'd made to Hickey, fumbling over their words as always, and surely! This will be no different!
...
In the awkward fumbling way, of course. So Siffrin shuffles around looking for Andrew, footsteps making not a sound as they pad down the halls and peek into the various rooms with something in hand. Notably, they are not wearing the cloak they had before; it was bloodstained, after all. Gotta figure out how to clean that off before tonight.
Wherever Andrew might be, Siffrin'll clear their throat from the doorway, holding something behind their back. It's probably not a knife. ]
... Is it okay if I come in?
[ As if most of this place isn't public walking space. ]
[The clothes at the villa predate her by over a century, having a certain flair for embellishment that is rare even for nobility in her city. But she is familiar enough, so despite having no one to help her dress and never quite looking as pressed as if she did, Grace has been managing to look fairly normal, by her standards. She's dressed in completely new, clean clothes, a capelet pulled over everything, standing opposite the wall of timepieces in the clockwork atelier.]
You can come in. [As if most of this place isn't public walking space.]
[ Okay, well, so far so good. The clothes are....... fancier than Siffrin is used to, so he's also been keeping it simple as can be -- which is easier with ones more meant for "males" but honestly, the dresses are very pretty, so maybe one day -- which makes them a pair of plain normal Janes. He shuffles in quietly, staring at the clockwork for a moment (The timepieces are beautiful examples of craftmanship, and part of you wants to pick one open just to see inside) before he holds up a small, wooden sparrow. Carved wonderfully with clean, rounded edges; it almost looks like it could take flight. ]
I, um... wanted to... apologize for earlier, when I was... looking over your friend. Or-- the person you knew, if friends isn't what you were. [ ... ] I'm not really used to handling stuff like that.
[ Even if they'd seemed to do it with little issue. It's compartmentalization, baby. ]
You mean that tasteless thing you said about eating her? [Very directly; to apologize for it, Siffrin should probably also acknowledge the nature of what he said.
She hadn't expected a gift to come along with the apology. Does she even need that? It feels like an inappropriate thing - buying her favor. After a brief hesitation, she holds out her hand for the carving.]
[ It's how it's done, as... far as Siffrin can recall. Something done with effort to help show the magnitude of whatever one's feeling -- regret, appreciation, happiness, sorrow. But Andrew doesn't know that; it's a custom long forgotten, now.
He'll hand it over though, carefully setting it in her palm like it really would fly away if he wasn't gentle. ]
Yeah. I didn't want him to think of her as a meal.
[ Half testing the water on if Hickey really would, half... poking at his confession to see how he'd felt about it beyond a group of many. ]
Is that how they honor the dead where you're from...? I do feel bad about insulting her, but I'd rather apologize, um... by giving her a burial she'd like. Like being scattered off the tallest mountain. Or... being turned into a gemstone. That happens across the sea.
[ (It's pretty neat, but you think it sounds too...
...
Binding.) ]
Maybe she'd like a bird, too...
[ Before tonight, maybe... Bring it wherever the Witch tasks them to go... ]
I don't know. We have funerals. They're usually stolid and full of ceremony. [She hasn't been to many, so this most general of descriptions is the extent of what Siffrin is going to receive.]
Since you made the bird for me, I'll decide what to do with it. How does that sound?
[Society is quite stuffy and hateful all around, really. Life isn't even often celebrated by the living.]
Can you do that normally? [And she does, despite herself, what is a whole bunch of layers of interacting with others a certain way, seem charmed by the idea.] Maybe it's because nothing can fly away from here.
[It really does seem like she's the odd one out here amongst all of these people who accept magic as a given. If she had that kind of power in her hands, could she make her wish happen?
At the mention of the paper airplane, something that Siffrin thinks they might be able to get operating normally despite no one here being able to do much of anything, Andrew's curiosity is piqued.]
[ A neat fun trick. That realistically shouldn't be called a paper airplane, because there are no planes in ISAT, but I don't care. There's no colors either and they still use the turn of phrase. ]
There's some for keeping score in the billiards room.
[She doesn't seem as familiar with the workshop. After mentioning the billiards room and thinking of its location on the floor, however, Andrew pauses.]
Well, it's a palace. It'd be foolish not to be able to find paper almost anywhere.
[ (You think of the House of Change and what it's become.
...
Yeah. It would be foolish.)
So it's easy enough to find some in a drawer. There always is paper lying around in palaces for no reason. Siffrin'll start folding it carefully, the creases clean and neat, until they've got a pointed "dart" of a construction, wings even in their width; throughout the short process, they mutter something along the lines of "please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong" until it's done.
[She watches them fold up piece of paper into a neat little vehicle. It's not quite as elegant as their carved bird, but the clean lines of the wings are admirable anyway.
Andrew tilts the nose into the air, slightly, and skims the paper plane across the room. For a first attempt, it goes rather well. The paper's descent is slow, a petal coasting to the ground.]
...It's just catching the air, right?
[Then again, isn't that more than half of all that flying is?]
[ So yes, it is. Siffrin'll start to make another, this time more bird-like in its folds. Gentle bending for its wings, a second paper to form its face... ]
Just a little wind. [ ... ] People are wind, too. That's what... I heard, a long time ago. That we're the wind that can help others.
[It's a metaphor that falls a little flat for her at first, bound up as she is by thoughts of death and the very real possibility that nothing will fly from this place again.
She also doesn't go to pick up the airplane where it's fallen to the ground several feet away, though that's just because she's feeling very tired.]
By carrying them or pushing them forward? [Could she see herself as the wind helping someone fly?]
Yeah. I think it's a nice thought, at least, like having the "wind" at your back on the sea.
[ Having people you could trust... Siffrin'll finish their little ritual the same way they did before, then set the bird aside as they go to retrieve the plane and place it beside the neat animal. ]
... Helps to cool off a hot day, and push rain off a wet one... There's a lot someone can do, like that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
w1, pretrial
feels more than kind of bad about... the awkward, awful joke they'd made to Hickey, fumbling over their words as always, and surely! This will be no different!
...
In the awkward fumbling way, of course. So Siffrin shuffles around looking for Andrew, footsteps making not a sound as they pad down the halls and peek into the various rooms with something in hand. Notably, they are not wearing the cloak they had before; it was bloodstained, after all. Gotta figure out how to clean that off before tonight.
Wherever Andrew might be, Siffrin'll clear their throat from the doorway, holding something behind their back. It's probably not a knife. ]
... Is it okay if I come in?
[ As if most of this place isn't public walking space. ]
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You can come in. [As if most of this place isn't public walking space.]
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I, um... wanted to... apologize for earlier, when I was... looking over your friend. Or-- the person you knew, if friends isn't what you were. [ ... ] I'm not really used to handling stuff like that.
[ Even if they'd seemed to do it with little issue. It's compartmentalization, baby. ]
cannibalism ref
She hadn't expected a gift to come along with the apology. Does she even need that? It feels like an inappropriate thing - buying her favor. After a brief hesitation, she holds out her hand for the carving.]
It's very pretty. Let me see.
cannibalism ref
He'll hand it over though, carefully setting it in her palm like it really would fly away if he wasn't gentle. ]
Yeah. I didn't want him to think of her as a meal.
[ Half testing the water on if Hickey really would, half... poking at his confession to see how he'd felt about it beyond a group of many. ]
But it was terrible to say that.
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[She's been trying to do that more often, too. So what if it's overly blunt and rude?
She is familiar with the custom of gifts for many occasions; however, as she turns the sparrow over in her hand, she muses.]
It's been a long time since I received a gift.
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She's kind of like Odile, you guess. The same vibe.) ]
Your friends don't give you any?
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[She's squeezing the carved bird a little more tightly in her hand now.] But isn't this a gift for someone else?
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Siffrin shakes their head. Just her. Who else... would they give it to? The other lady was dead. And Hickey hadn't seemed offended. ]
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[Tia can't receive a gift, it's true. But other people - not herself, really - are always going on about respecting them.]
Maybe she'd be grateful for your apology regardless.
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Is that how they honor the dead where you're from...? I do feel bad about insulting her, but I'd rather apologize, um... by giving her a burial she'd like. Like being scattered off the tallest mountain. Or... being turned into a gemstone. That happens across the sea.
[ (It's pretty neat, but you think it sounds too...
...
Binding.) ]
Maybe she'd like a bird, too...
[ Before tonight, maybe... Bring it wherever the Witch tasks them to go... ]
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Since you made the bird for me, I'll decide what to do with it. How does that sound?
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But at that, they nod. ]
Okay. Sorry it doesn't fly. I couldn't get it to work like normal.
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Can you do that normally? [And she does, despite herself, what is a whole bunch of layers of interacting with others a certain way, seem charmed by the idea.] Maybe it's because nothing can fly away from here.
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But! Another nod! ]
Yeah. When I Craft stuff, I can make them move... sing... stuff like that. Usually. Um, it's my world's... "magic". You could say.
[ And she should, because it is. ]
... I think I could still make a paper airplane fly, though.
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At the mention of the paper airplane, something that Siffrin thinks they might be able to get operating normally despite no one here being able to do much of anything, Andrew's curiosity is piqued.]
Hmm, and what's that?
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I need a piece of paper to show you.
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[She doesn't seem as familiar with the workshop. After mentioning the billiards room and thinking of its location on the floor, however, Andrew pauses.]
Well, it's a palace. It'd be foolish not to be able to find paper almost anywhere.
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...
Yeah. It would be foolish.)
So it's easy enough to find some in a drawer. There always is paper lying around in palaces for no reason. Siffrin'll start folding it carefully, the creases clean and neat, until they've got a pointed "dart" of a construction, wings even in their width; throughout the short process, they mutter something along the lines of "please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong" until it's done.
There!
(It looks nice, just like you hoped.)
They'll hold it up to her. ]
All you do it throw it. Angle a little high.
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Andrew tilts the nose into the air, slightly, and skims the paper plane across the room. For a first attempt, it goes rather well. The paper's descent is slow, a petal coasting to the ground.]
...It's just catching the air, right?
[Then again, isn't that more than half of all that flying is?]
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[ So yes, it is. Siffrin'll start to make another, this time more bird-like in its folds. Gentle bending for its wings, a second paper to form its face... ]
Just a little wind. [ ... ] People are wind, too. That's what... I heard, a long time ago. That we're the wind that can help others.
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She also doesn't go to pick up the airplane where it's fallen to the ground several feet away, though that's just because she's feeling very tired.]
By carrying them or pushing them forward? [Could she see herself as the wind helping someone fly?]
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[ Having people you could trust... Siffrin'll finish their little ritual the same way they did before, then set the bird aside as they go to retrieve the plane and place it beside the neat animal. ]
... Helps to cool off a hot day, and push rain off a wet one... There's a lot someone can do, like that.
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[Looking down at the paper bird, Andrew can't help but wonder what it would really take to see it fly freely.]
Are you like that...to anyone?
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...)
The answer is quiet and idle, said with a smile. Like it doesn't matter when it really, really does. ]
Not really.
[ (An uplifting breeze is different than an unrelenting gale, after all.) ]
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