wont | CONTACT | on the tranquility

[....oh. Yes. Fathers. Nearly as bad as brothers. Unseen, Sirius pulls a brief face at his device-thinger.]

oh what a thing to say
thats precisely what you want to hear when you ask out a young lady you very much admire
"you make me think of my father"
tragic

quick, think of this instead:
a simple enjoyable lovely walk
perhaps not as plain as other walks
especially not with you by my side
not even your father could object to that
though hopefully you would not think too much of your father on said walk
hopefully i could manage to talk to you without making you think of your father
(which, and this is of no offense to your father, is not precisely the sort of comment people want to hear)
(not when they're asking you out)
(this isnt a critique really)
(though it has left my heart rather wounded!)

say that i dont make you think of your father please
and say yes
and i shall be as plain or as extravagant as you like

Yrs. above all else,
S. BLACK

[ Oh, Sirius. You do not know Alayne's father. Perhaps you would have curbed your words if you had.

She makes her own face at her device. It is not so much shameful as complicit. (And isn't that terrible, indeed.) Her first thought is to tell Sirius that she loves her father — very much, in fact — but that is salt upon a wound, not the honey that Alayne's heart briefly perceives it to be.

So, instead, she does not type the word 'father' at all, though it rings in her head — loud as a clambering bell. ]

You've designs, Sirius Black.

[He sort of feels as if he's done or said something wrong which is rather disconcerting. Alayne Stone, why are you such a mystery and why is he yet interested in said mystery?]

only designs of walks and covnersations
et cetera. and chiefly:
only designs of knowing you better, Lady Alayne.
which i very much mean
believe me or not you are interesting

[ She should not speak, Alayne knows that. She should leave him to the mystery and provide him no doorway to her heart.

Her answer comes at length, after having written, rewritten and then deleted several such responses. ]

You may ask me a question, then.
Just the one.

If truly your intentions are to know me better.

[There are thousands of girls--not all aboard this ship, to be sure, but there are still girls--and some of them are interesting and some are fit--and then there is Alayne Stone, who should really not be as interesting as she is. Perhaps it's because she's always nearly answering him, with yeses or nos; perhaps because she will take his presents with a regal sort of air, with a less-than-regal blush on her cheeks--

He could answer with thousands of answers, in thousands of ways, he could ask insignificant questions or joke questions or dirty questions or teasing questions--but in the end, Sirius Black opts for a question he rarely employs: a real question.

Everything seems too cheap, too trite; this business of being real is more difficult than it seems, no wonder he doesn't go in for it--but in the end, he thinks of something.]

what is the best and happiest thing that you can remember? whatever made you happiest

[Because if she answers truthfully--that will be a clue. There is some way to win Alayne Stone's heart, and Sirius is dogged enough to learn it.

....but of course, his moment of seriousness doesn't prevent him from adding:]

sorry for difficulties but i have to make it count
if i only get one

[ All things are bittersweet in the world. There is nothing that remains untouched by sadness' gaze or suffering's shadow, Alayne knows that know. All of the happiest memories that she has — Sansa's memories, of a time long ago — are now clouded by hindsight and death (a red rose at a tourney, a walk near a river with a golden lion, a dress that she'd sworn was a gift for the Tyrell, snowflakes in Robb's hair). It tempers Alayne's willingness to answer and, for a time she is tempted to say that all happiness fades with time and leaves nothing behind but the longing for what is past; but that is unfair and cheating besides. She'd granted him a single question without prompting and it would be a sign of poor faith to deny him the answer that goes with it.

And so, Alayne falls silent and thoughtful on her end of the line. The conversation stretches into silence, but eventually, the answer comes. ]

Snow.
In the trees and on the ground, freshly fallen and still soft underfoot.
Snow caught on my lashes and in others' hair.
Snow on my tongue, bright white and crisp.

Snow can make the ugliest place beautiful.
It can cover what is broken and lost.
And when it blankets the land, things seem new again and clean.

Yes, Sirius Black, my answer is snow.

[A serious answer is deserving of serious thought, even from Sirius. And he actually doesn't know Alayne Stone all that well, not really, and it's near impossible to read tone from a text. But somehow this answer comes across as really very true and very real--and a little uncommon as well, because what girl really likes snow? Especially in such a poetic way, which really lends a credibility to it.

So. A short pause, first, as he considers everything she's written.]

snow.
it's a good answer.

[And then, after just a short delay, he adds:] i'm going to remember this
not cheaply
but i will remember.

Edited 2012-06-29 16:22 (UTC)

CONTACT | on the tranquility

[text]

[text]

[text]

[text]

[text]

[text]

[text]