It's not about my hopes bein' high. It's more that you shouldn't-a bothered.
( the same old griping izou, now with more friendship.
they're going at a steady enough pace, where he's just been walking alongside her, prepared to lean out at a moment's notice to catch her and right her balance. )
... Not that I'm gonna turn it down or nothin', what with you going to the trouble.
[ Yep, this fondness she's feeling for him right now sure is friendship. It was trepidation like ten minutes ago, and this is vastly preferable. ]
You know, for someone who's okay with being called a genius and all, you're pretty quick to put yourself down. I saw it and thought of you, so I brought it back with me--that wasn't any trouble at all.
[ It's a mild observation; for the most part, March is walking just fine, with only a few mishaps, and Izou will know, because her footsteps will falter and hesitate for a few seconds. Thankfully, he's staying close, which means there's no real risk here.
But sooner or later, they'll reach the Redemption wing, and her room is fortunately the first one. ]
Here, come in, it'll just be a second!
[ It's a fairly neat room at the moment. Disney paraphernalia exists in different corners, glass cats on her desk, a string of little lights glow softly on the walls and also on the walls--
Photographs. He'll recognize some of them, like Malkuth and Ishmael, a bunch of other Outsiders. And of course Izou's up there too, the stance he'd taken when she'd coaxed him out. Pinned to that photograph in particular is a single cherry blossom petal. March has walked over to the desk to start digging inside a drawer, humming lightly to herself. ]
( look... he doesn't consider it putting himself down, and he starts to grumble with teeth at her quip that recants how he likes to yap. )
Hold up. I'm not just okay with bein' called one—I am one. There ain't no one else on this base who can wield a sword well as I can, and two of 'em for th—
( but further declarations of how awesome he is at cutting throats die the moment march invites him into her room.
the second time a woman on base has done so, and ishmael's comment rings true—
march's room... is ridiculously adorable, and he's just a scruffy man of average height standing in the middle of all that shine and glimmer, the angles of his face sharper without the gloom of his own room to soften them. calling it entrancing would be an understatement. it was almost like stepping into another world entirely, and izou feels that usual self-preservation instinct and years of ingrained aggressively anti-social behavior tell him to book it. he doesn't belong in here.
but then he catches sight of her wall of photographs, of that little petal nestled against one, and... he swallows. that's right. she said something about preserving her experiences here and all that, and the weight of that promise is plastered all over the fiber cement. he's just gonna stand there, trying to scrutinize every one of them from a distance of near the doorway. )
[ There's a lot; Wriothesley, performing some kind of dance move, March and Winter striking a pose in front of some blue and purple flowers, Ishmael with her hair flaring out behind her, Rodion posing cutely in a cafe...
Honestly, if her arm wasn't broken, she'd want a picture of Izou now too, to commemorate, but she'll have to make up for it later. For now, she turns and then closes the distance between them in three quick steps to gently lob something over his shoulders.
It doesn't quite work with one arm, but Izou will find himself in possession of a white (ish) scarf, sporting several images of things from the Haunted Mansion. ]
I found it in the closest gift shop not long after we split up... and it was pretty dusty, so I washed it like three times. But I figured it could be kind of like a souvenir of us working together?
[ She trails off, a little uncertainly. She hadnt thought she'd be able to give it to him after they'd butted heads and maybe something cooler would have been better, but it is what it is. ]
his hands are a little shaky when accepting it, and it's a little goofy-looking, really, but... )
You really, ... picked this out for me?
( he grips at the fabric tightly, ... maybe a little too tightly, a tensely wound knot in his stomach dissolving into a weird flutter that runs up his chest. he didn't get gifts, and to be presented with one so plainly and for it to be known that someone else was thinking of him fondly... feels strange. isn't something he's used to yet. he stumbles when it comes to saying thanks, because that's also not a something he does often.
but this is where you say thanks, right? )
... Not sure how I'm gonna repay ya for it, or even what to say, but I'll ... I'll use it sometime, I guess. Keep it spotless.
[ It sure is a bit goofy, but it's fine. March notes the trembling of his hands, but opts not to mention it, merely smiles up at him.
Okay, it looks like he's willing to accept it. That's the last flutter of nervousness, dispelled. ]
You don't have to repay me, you know. I did it because I wanted to. [ As ever, that's March's M.O. She does things she wants to and deals with what happens as it happens. ]
But I'm glad you like it! I...
[ That's... everything, she thinks. They had an official friendship now, he'd walked her back to her room, and she'd given him his gift. So, having noted how uncomfortably he'd hovered near the door-- ]
... I think that's it! Sorry to keep you when you were just checking on me in the first place.
he lets march's apology settle over him, not even sure as to why she's saying it when he... it's what he wanted to do and when he didn't have much going on in the first place, but whatever. now isn't the time to raise an objection. even izou can read the room a little. )
Then...
( right. he shouldn't linger here any longer than he ought to, even if some strange part of him might want to wait around and see what else she has to say. listen to the younger echo of her voice and how she binds her existence tight around those photographs and just be there for it, even if realistically, he's not clever enough to comment on most of them or right enough to figure out the best way to comfort her, and...
it's a tense, self-conscious moment for him when he realizes exactly what he's thinking about, a familiar gloom settling on him as he sticks a foot out the door and back into his world of solitude. away from the strange thought of wanting to be there to comfort someone who's only been kind to him since her arrival, panic clutching at his thoughts and filling the vulnerable gaps in his chest. )
Later.
( he says it firmly over his shoulder, the wild pulse drumming in his body fading gradually as he leaves. )
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no subject
( the same old griping izou, now with more friendship.
they're going at a steady enough pace, where he's just been walking alongside her, prepared to lean out at a moment's notice to catch her and right her balance. )
... Not that I'm gonna turn it down or nothin', what with you going to the trouble.
no subject
You know, for someone who's okay with being called a genius and all, you're pretty quick to put yourself down. I saw it and thought of you, so I brought it back with me--that wasn't any trouble at all.
[ It's a mild observation; for the most part, March is walking just fine, with only a few mishaps, and Izou will know, because her footsteps will falter and hesitate for a few seconds. Thankfully, he's staying close, which means there's no real risk here.
But sooner or later, they'll reach the Redemption wing, and her room is fortunately the first one. ]
Here, come in, it'll just be a second!
[ It's a fairly neat room at the moment. Disney paraphernalia exists in different corners, glass cats on her desk, a string of little lights glow softly on the walls and also on the walls--
Photographs. He'll recognize some of them, like Malkuth and Ishmael, a bunch of other Outsiders. And of course Izou's up there too, the stance he'd taken when she'd coaxed him out. Pinned to that photograph in particular is a single cherry blossom petal. March has walked over to the desk to start digging inside a drawer, humming lightly to herself. ]
no subject
Hold up. I'm not just okay with bein' called one—I am one. There ain't no one else on this base who can wield a sword well as I can, and two of 'em for th—
( but further declarations of how awesome he is at cutting throats die the moment march invites him into her room.
the second time a woman on base has done so, and ishmael's comment rings true—
march's room... is ridiculously adorable, and he's just a scruffy man of average height standing in the middle of all that shine and glimmer, the angles of his face sharper without the gloom of his own room to soften them. calling it entrancing would be an understatement. it was almost like stepping into another world entirely, and izou feels that usual self-preservation instinct and years of ingrained aggressively anti-social behavior tell him to book it. he doesn't belong in here.
but then he catches sight of her wall of photographs, of that little petal nestled against one, and... he swallows. that's right. she said something about preserving her experiences here and all that, and the weight of that promise is plastered all over the fiber cement. he's just gonna stand there, trying to scrutinize every one of them from a distance of near the doorway. )
no subject
Honestly, if her arm wasn't broken, she'd want a picture of Izou now too, to commemorate, but she'll have to make up for it later. For now, she turns and then closes the distance between them in three quick steps to gently lob something over his shoulders.
It doesn't quite work with one arm, but Izou will find himself in possession of a white (ish) scarf, sporting several images of things from the Haunted Mansion. ]
I found it in the closest gift shop not long after we split up... and it was pretty dusty, so I washed it like three times. But I figured it could be kind of like a souvenir of us working together?
[ She trails off, a little uncertainly. She hadnt thought she'd be able to give it to him after they'd butted heads and maybe something cooler would have been better, but it is what it is. ]
no subject
his hands are a little shaky when accepting it, and it's a little goofy-looking, really, but... )
You really, ... picked this out for me?
( he grips at the fabric tightly, ... maybe a little too tightly, a tensely wound knot in his stomach dissolving into a weird flutter that runs up his chest. he didn't get gifts, and to be presented with one so plainly and for it to be known that someone else was thinking of him fondly... feels strange. isn't something he's used to yet. he stumbles when it comes to saying thanks, because that's also not a something he does often.
but this is where you say thanks, right? )
... Not sure how I'm gonna repay ya for it, or even what to say, but I'll ... I'll use it sometime, I guess. Keep it spotless.
no subject
Okay, it looks like he's willing to accept it. That's the last flutter of nervousness, dispelled. ]
You don't have to repay me, you know. I did it because I wanted to. [ As ever, that's March's M.O. She does things she wants to and deals with what happens as it happens. ]
But I'm glad you like it! I...
[ That's... everything, she thinks. They had an official friendship now, he'd walked her back to her room, and she'd given him his gift. So, having noted how uncomfortably he'd hovered near the door-- ]
... I think that's it! Sorry to keep you when you were just checking on me in the first place.
no subject
he lets march's apology settle over him, not even sure as to why she's saying it when he... it's what he wanted to do and when he didn't have much going on in the first place, but whatever. now isn't the time to raise an objection. even izou can read the room a little. )
Then...
( right. he shouldn't linger here any longer than he ought to, even if some strange part of him might want to wait around and see what else she has to say. listen to the younger echo of her voice and how she binds her existence tight around those photographs and just be there for it, even if realistically, he's not clever enough to comment on most of them or right enough to figure out the best way to comfort her, and...
it's a tense, self-conscious moment for him when he realizes exactly what he's thinking about, a familiar gloom settling on him as he sticks a foot out the door and back into his world of solitude. away from the strange thought of wanting to be there to comfort someone who's only been kind to him since her arrival, panic clutching at his thoughts and filling the vulnerable gaps in his chest. )
Later.
( he says it firmly over his shoulder, the wild pulse drumming in his body fading gradually as he leaves. )