WHO: Fitcher + Wysteria + Flint & You WHAT: Catch-all WHEN: Firstfall-ish WHERE: Kirkwall and stuff. NOTES: Will update if necessary. Feel free to grab me if you want a specific starter/wildcard me, baby.
She is halfway to her feet, having risen just high enough from her seat that her intention of leaving is undeniable, but she pauses the moment the little marble covered booklet is produced. Her hands tighten on her cup and plate. Her face somehow flushes a more severe shade of red.
The cup is returned to where it was snatched from and Wysteria eases back down onto the bench at half speed.
Her mouth thins and her jaw sets. For a moment, Wysterja says nothing at all which - were they more familiar - might successfully communicate rather exactly how furious she is.
It is only after this very prolonged beat of steely quiet that she unlocks her jaw to coolly remark, "It is unkind to pry into one's personal life without invitation."
This entire conversation is a little like balancing on the edge of some very high drop. Aleksei wonders if she'd punch him, were this to carry on long enough. It's hard to make out if she's the type for it or not.
"Will you tell me where you bought the bears?"
No one has ever in his life accused him of being kind. No need to weep over the idea of being thought unkind in this instance.
Because he just can't suppress the urge, Aleksei taps her palm with the book and pulls it away before she can grasp it. Peak shitty big brother stunts, directed at someone he is reasonably certain won't stab him in retaliation.
As an only child, Wysteria Poppell is woefully unprepared for this brand of nonsense. Her hand closes around thin air and her frown flashes hot in her reddened face.
"What reason could I possibly have to continue hostilities with you, sir? Return the book, and I will give you the location, and then we may go forward as if none of this had ever happened."
"Perhaps you are given to revenge. I do not know."
Wonder why Wysteria might feel a little vengeful after all this harmless teasing.
"What if you whisper to me the name of the merchant and then I give you back your little book?"
He taps her palm with the book again. Yevdokiya stabbed him for this when they were small, but all Wysteria has is a butter knife on hand. It likely won't leave too much of a wound.
"What if you come with me to the merchant, so I can be sure it is really him?"
Her mouth grows very thin at the second tap of the book in her palm as her fingers once more close around air. With monumental effort, as if fighting against an invisible force, she withdraws her hand and sets it very deliberately in her lap.
"No." And then, more firmly: "No, I will not be doing either of those things. You may either return my things and be satisfied with being told after, or you will get nothing and I will report you. The choice is entirely yours, sir. It guarantee you that it makes little difference to me."
A considering pause. Aleksei watches her face, seemingly searching for something. It's a little unnecessary. Wysteria's expression is shockingly clear about her present emotional state.
The book is lifted, Aleksei's elbow set on the table as he waggles it a little in the air before setting it directly down on the tabletop in front of her with a deeply expectant expression on his face.
Her hands don't move to take it. They remain, as far as anyone might detect, carefully folded in her lap. That she has a furious vice grip on her skirts is no one's business but her own.
With a slightly rising tip of the chin, she says, "The merchant in question is in Lowtown, based in a large shared mercantile house. You know where the Black Lion is, yes? From there, go two streets north and take a right. The house is the largest one in the square there. I don't recall his name, but I'm certain if you carried the piece with you that someone could direct you to the right man."
He is not wrong to suspect foul play. For indeed these are not directions to a mercantile house or even to the businessman in question, but they are certainly directions to a particular shared place of business which, should he get that far, might subtly communicate Wysteria's assessment of this hostage exchange.
(It's a brothel. The message is 'Get fornicated with.')
Regrettably, this trick will only endear him to her. Sorry, Wysteria.
But as Aleksei does not yet know that a prank has been played on him, he eyes her plate, clearly thinks better of making off with her hard-boiled egg, and rises from the table instead.
"This was a pleasure," he tells her, affecting a turn of phrase potentially picked up from having heard Bastien on the crystal. "I hope to do it again sometime soon."
"The pleasure was mine entirely, sir. And I wish you all the best on your hunt."
She has a great skill for affecting a sweetness both saccharine and poisonous when she cares to, and this instance is perfectly suited for it. Her smile is very pin neat, and very cold. With the security of her egg more or less guaranteed, Wysteria finally snatches back the diary.
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The cup is returned to where it was snatched from and Wysteria eases back down onto the bench at half speed.
"It's perfectly competent."
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Is this a hostage situation now?
"Anyway," he continues, tapping the spine of the book against his palm. "I did mean to give it back. You are not very angry about it, are you?"
This question somehow manages to sound very sincere, in spite of the vibrant shade of red Wysteria's turned over the course of this conversation.
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It is only after this very prolonged beat of steely quiet that she unlocks her jaw to coolly remark, "It is unkind to pry into one's personal life without invitation."
She thrusts her hand out expectedly.
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"Will you tell me where you bought the bears?"
No one has ever in his life accused him of being kind. No need to weep over the idea of being thought unkind in this instance.
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"Once you have returned my things, I would be most happy to share the location with you."
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"How do I know you will not lie to me?"
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"What reason could I possibly have to continue hostilities with you, sir? Return the book, and I will give you the location, and then we may go forward as if none of this had ever happened."
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Wonder why Wysteria might feel a little vengeful after all this harmless teasing.
"What if you whisper to me the name of the merchant and then I give you back your little book?"
He taps her palm with the book again. Yevdokiya stabbed him for this when they were small, but all Wysteria has is a butter knife on hand. It likely won't leave too much of a wound.
"What if you come with me to the merchant, so I can be sure it is really him?"
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"No." And then, more firmly: "No, I will not be doing either of those things. You may either return my things and be satisfied with being told after, or you will get nothing and I will report you. The choice is entirely yours, sir. It guarantee you that it makes little difference to me."
no subject
The book is lifted, Aleksei's elbow set on the table as he waggles it a little in the air before setting it directly down on the tabletop in front of her with a deeply expectant expression on his face.
no subject
With a slightly rising tip of the chin, she says, "The merchant in question is in Lowtown, based in a large shared mercantile house. You know where the Black Lion is, yes? From there, go two streets north and take a right. The house is the largest one in the square there. I don't recall his name, but I'm certain if you carried the piece with you that someone could direct you to the right man."
He is not wrong to suspect foul play. For indeed these are not directions to a mercantile house or even to the businessman in question, but they are certainly directions to a particular shared place of business which, should he get that far, might subtly communicate Wysteria's assessment of this hostage exchange.
(It's a brothel. The message is 'Get fornicated with.')
no subject
But as Aleksei does not yet know that a prank has been played on him, he eyes her plate, clearly thinks better of making off with her hard-boiled egg, and rises from the table instead.
"This was a pleasure," he tells her, affecting a turn of phrase potentially picked up from having heard Bastien on the crystal. "I hope to do it again sometime soon."
:>
no subject
She has a great skill for affecting a sweetness both saccharine and poisonous when she cares to, and this instance is perfectly suited for it. Her smile is very pin neat, and very cold. With the security of her egg more or less guaranteed, Wysteria finally snatches back the diary.
How dreadful a fate, to be found endearing.