CONTACT | on the tranquility
![]() — » 003 » 005 QUARTERS | THIRD LEVEL SEAMSTRESS | FIFTH LEVEL PETYR'S LIBARY | FIFTH LEVEL DEVICE, IN-PERSON, BY RAVEN |
![]() — » 003 » 005 QUARTERS | THIRD LEVEL SEAMSTRESS | FIFTH LEVEL PETYR'S LIBARY | FIFTH LEVEL DEVICE, IN-PERSON, BY RAVEN |
action;
She stops for a moment, considering. ] Perhaps, [ she says quietly and then resumes her work. There is a delicacy to the things that she does, a sliver of Sansa that shines through whatever seams exist in Alayne's otherwise perfected facade. Her hands, pale and white, dance from task to task and all the while remain clean, avoiding this stain and that effortlessly. (She is her father's daughter.) ] I think, perhaps, we are all pretending.
In one way or another, for own sakes. For each others.
action;
While he does, she thinks more about what she said, about games he'd play with Brendan when they were kids (which were always a little too stupid for Brendan's age, maybe, but which he always went along with) and about how mom pretended everything was okay, up until she decided to stop. So maybe she has a point, even if Tommy's not sure how good he is at pretending these days. ]
That's what people want, right? They ask, "How are you?" and all you're ever supposed t'say is, "Fine."
action;
Her eyebrows are still lifted in silent inquiry when she asks: ] And how are you, Tommy?
action;
He resists the urge to frown at her question. He can't quite tell if it's meant genuinely or as a snappy retort. But either way, his answer wouldn't change much anyway. ]
I'm alive. I've got stuff to eat and somewhere to sleep. Could be worse.
action;
As he steps out of the way, she fills the space left empty with both herself and her skirts. A quick re-estimation of the coolbox's contents later, Alayne is straightening again, another unmarked container held between her hands. She looks at Tommy over the held-open door for a moment before offering it to him. ]
We are all 'fine', then, when measured by such meager estimations. Just as there are degrees between bad and worse, there those that exist between fine and good.
action;
When he takes the box from Alayne, he gives the contents a quick check and then nods his head in a half-thank you and half-acknowledgement that her choice works for him. He takes a step back to try to find something other than his fingers to eat with (and that, honestly, is just because she's there watching). ]
Yeah, well. When you've been worse, better than worse feels like fine. [ He looks down sullenly at his feet. ]
action;
It is a useless exercise, ultimately, because where Tommy is wholly readable in certain places, he is closed off and distant in others. Perhaps the answer lay in the words exchanged until now, but they over no help upon second perusal. Had it been the war that raged through Tommy's world? Or perhaps he had had a parent — a mother or a father — who'd pretended too well.
Regardless, Alayne knows that Tommy is write. Absently she wonders what this says about her, what truth that would reveal about herself upon reflection. But she abandons those thoughts before they see themselves all the way through.
Folding her hands in front of her, she waits until he has foraged himself a fork to ask: ] Are we friends, Tommy? You and I.
action;
His gut's first impulse is that he hasn't had a friend since Manny died. It's his gut's second impulse too, actually, a one-two punch that makes his jaw tighten and the food he's eating suddenly that much less appealing. His third impulse, though, is that maybe that ain't so true anymore. Tyke and Jenna and Dean and Jim. And Alayne. There are people here he doesn't mind being around so much, and maybe that's what friendship is for him these days.
He doesn't think he'd tell any of the others that, but Alayne's young, and he can't bring himself to shrug her off the way he'd shrug other people off. He stirs the cotents of his container around. ]
Sure. We're friends, [ he says. ] Why you askin'?
action;
She watches silently as he stirs his food. Alayne thinks, if she were to leave the conversation there, he may stare into that modest container indefinitely in an attempt to avoid her gaze. A moment passes, then two, then: ] Then I would never wish for you to pretend for my sake— [ I pretend enough for us both already. ] —friend.