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[ such a mess................................ it reminds her of home. the home she has here, which-- feels more like "home" than she wants to admit to anyone soberly. it puts a weird, willfully unnameable feeling in her chest, and don peers at the glass curiously as she's handed it.

... this looks too much for like, a bottom's up, but she'll give it a hearty gulps. that's where she's at. and also just who she is, though it sends a shudder through her at the taste. ]

That-- that will do. Thou hath my gratitude.

[ and now, like she lives here, she's gonna trod her way over to the couch-bed and stare at it before sitting on the floor in front of it. that's better. the taste isn't so bad if she sips at it. ]

Let me imbibe myself a little, and then I shall tell thee what ails this heart of mine, for it is not so easy to speak of -- for in truth, I have come with a weight upon my shoulders.

[ like... it wasn't obvious... okay. even as she says all that, it sounds more like she's making a mountain out of a molehill, so maybe it isn't that bad. ]

[he makes himself a drink before he joins her, which is more like straight vodka with a little juice in it... and when she sits on the floor, he just does the same, settling nearby with his glass.]

Yeah, take your time. You don't have to rush yourself, 'kay?

[taking a sip, meanwhile. it's starting to sound like he needs a drink for this too.]

[ mmm... she's going to look at his art quietly. what little guys. what creatures. what abstractness. they're very nice, and slowly she rests against the couch as she sips.

the drink is nicer the more she has it. this was her experience with daan's too, at the party, though she did like the one he'd crafted for her. this one is okay. it does what she needs it to do, and what she'd cited to some as the reason she didn't really drink -- it messes with her mind, and after a bit more she'll slump more against netzach.

quiet, a rare show of disheartment from the otherwise bright gal. ]

I understand thy feelings, in regards to that which is unrequited. Though I had known it from the start, just as thee did, I still wished to say something for... if she suddenly disappeared before I had yet to confess my admiration of her, I would regret it most ardently.

[ ... a long, long sip of her drink. almost as much a gulp as her first. ]

[he lets her slump against him easily enough, supporting her; he has a relatively good tolerance, not especially tipsy just yet, so they're not in danger of just falling over together.]

Mm... was it worth it, you think? To say something no matter what happened after?

Was it worth it?

[ a question she can freely ask herself now, maybe, and she stares at her glass. the vague, blurred reflection of herself stares back. ]

... I am someone who wishes to regret the things done, rather than... those not, if possible. Rather, I do not wish to regret at all -- but if I... had a choice, then it would be that. Yes, I do think it worth it, if only to ensure that I have nothing unsaid should one of us disappear tomorrow. Nothing has changed between us; we are the same as we were yesterday.

[ little awkward, maybe. but that'll fade with time. the reflection blurs just a bit more and she turns her face, voice wavering. ]

I... I only wonder, Netzach, why I find myself aching so, when I received the answer I had expected. Perhaps I am selfish.

...expecting it doesn't make it hurt any less. It's the same with anything that hurts, right? Even if you see it coming, the best you can do is just mitigate it a little.

[you can dampen it, maybe. soften the impact of it, or the sting. but it won't keep it from harming you at all.]

I lost my chance to say so, when it was me. I'd never regretted not saying so before... but after she was gone, sometimes I wondered. Would it have mattered, if she knew? Would it have changed anything? Not for us, I know that never would have happened, but-- I wondered if I made a mistake by not telling her she was loved. I don't know if anyone ever actually said those words to her.

There is more than one way to say so, even if one does not speak. So perhaps she knew somewhat, even if not the depth of them.

[ like learning a familiar recipe to try your hand at, even if it won't be exact. seeing something that reminds you of someone and wanting to give it to them. ]

But I do understand, of course. Mistress Gebura said she does not need admirers, but I think it is nice to hear it said anyway.

[ ... maybe she should tell netz she appreciates him... drinky thoughts. ]

...maybe she did. I don't know.

[he kind of hopes so.

(but then, on the other hand, if she knew what she meant to both him and to all of them, and still...)

netzach exhales a little sigh, moving on from that particular thought.]

Gebura's always been the type to do things herself, so that's not really surprising. But I feel like what she means is probably... she doesn't need admirers so much as people who will treat her as 'Gebura', not-

[ooh drinking is dangerous. but he catches it.]

Not as a Fixer, or as somebody to put on a pedestal.

Mrrrr. I... I do admire her as she is, not what she was before, but I suppose I may put her upon an appropriately high pedestal.

[ maybe.... a little higher...... perhaps......... okay, she does, but that's because gebura is amazing and awesome and brave and kind and ]

Do all of thee have a first life?

All of us except Roland. He came around later. Angela's situation is different, too.

[and roland is, as ever... kind of a mystery.]

It's not really my place to say anything about anybody else's first life, but-- we knew each other back then too.

Oooh, how astounding! Ehm, in our lives, we are always together as well -- my companions and I, those of is who are bound by the clock.

[ clumsily, but explained sort of. drinking is dangerous. but she's comfortable with netzach anyway, so this would have come out regardless of the glass in her hand.

but it is a nice distraction. she closes her eyes, leaning more against him. ]

Rather... they are memories, of a kind... Not unlike thee, but unlike thee as well. I am unhappy with most of them, in truth. Even if I am someone.

I think you mentioned something like that before.

[in the mall, about those other lives. he takes a sip of his own drink, listening curiously, glancing down to her where she's resting against him.]

What is it about them that you're unhappy with?

[ hmmmmmmmmmmmm. how does she put it. she'll quietly drink as she tries to gather her thoughts. it touches vaguely on things that she rallies against with all of her person, revolts her in others, and... even in the most ideal, there is a compromise made.

what is it about them she's unhappy with... ]

Different things, among them all... Though it more or less has to do with the beliefs I uphold, and the way I uphold them -- if I do at all. I wonder if thee would even recognize me in some?

[ maybe only in appearance, but what's that matter. ]

But they are, um, I said they were possibilities, yes? They are only... a kind of future I could have had, if I had turned one way or another, if I had not joined the Company I did... They feel very real, though they are not. [ ... oh... ] The-- the mall death, thine, the sort of... wiggly... feeling. That is what it is like. Except also not. No, it is... perhaps how thee have Ser Giovanni's memories, but also thine...

[ look at her babble... she's really trying her best to explain it. ]

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