[ he turns, doesn't try to follow or lay a hand on her. he can't hide his discomfort, or he doesn't try to; is too wrapped up in a tangle of figuring out how to address this problem. ]
What happened earlier. It's—
[ he's doing this wrong. he doesn't precisely know how to proceed. ]
Historically, I haven't been accustomed to cooperation.
(it occurs to daud that he doesn't have to do any of this. that he doesn't strictly need to play nice with this woman. only it'd be foolish to make enemies here. only she's skillful could be useful could be worth knowing even worth respecting, certainly is no fool. and she didn't merit the hostility he'd given her. didn't merit any of that treatment, at all.)
'i'm aware,' he almost says. instead, there's a moment's hesitation, and then— ]
You're right.
[ he's painfully aware of her eyes on him. painfully aware of the sound of their voices and the unseen presence of others nearby, nestled in their insulae or walking the roofs or gathered around the courtyard. ]
This isn't the right place to... Can we?
[ he motions toward mercury's courtyard. if it isn't strictly private, it's a step above standing so exposed. ]
( oh, her date was definitely not going to be there when she got back and if he was he'd take convincing to get back on track. though river had a feeling that after this she'd want to be alone.
but this feels necessary, feels like if she doesn't do it now that she'll never do it. so, almost reluctantly, river nods, following where he leads )
[ he's quiet until they've reached the back corner of mercury's courtyard, nods absently to a bench, in case she wishes to sit.
he knows what's coming, vagely. hadn't gone to her intending to offer anything, but it's becoming clear that if he's to make any lasting amends, he'll need to share more than an apology.
he knows what’s coming, but can’t think too close on it or he’ll risk backing out. because this isn’t something he offers readily. because this is a secret he’s kept close from most everyone here.
when he finally speaks, his voice is soft, not likely to carry beyond the immediate area. he flexes his left hand, scans the area, looks back at river. ]
You spoke of what you lost. What you were before coming here.
I don’t care to talk about it, but. I lost something coming here, too.
( it's a conversation that they'd briefly touched on, a knowledge partly shared. she knows what he's doing, partly why, but she gives a shake of her head )
I don't need to know what it is.
( especially not now, though if he wanted to tell her she wouldn't stop him )
( even though river wasn't asking for any explanations or stories it doesn't mean that she isn't going to take advantage of the opportunity that he's giving her. hello questions )
[ it probably isn't. it absolutely isn't. but that's more than he's willing to say, and he has to keep himself from grimacing at the question, or at the thought of speaking so far to this woman.
there's one person in rome who knows the origin of his past powers. one person who'd put the pieces together for herself, surprising him the way she so often does. daud trusts cassandra with the information; he can't place such faith in river. ]
It's enough to know that I had them.
I could transverse space in the blink of an eye. Detect presences through solid walls. Bring time to a stop.
[ summon assassins to his side. turns enemies to ash. and so on, but heisn't about to share those particular abilities. ]
( river would certainly appreciate this information more if it had come at a different time. if she knew him better or wasn't angry she would care more -- would be interested by what he could do, particularly if he could still do it.
as it is it feels pointless. he's sharing it because she shared something and it doesn't comfort her or please her much in the slightest. honestly, if she had to choose, she would have preferred a simple apology and to be left to go on with her business but... this was daud )
Telling me this simply because I told you something.
( it's hard to respect even his talents when he continues to piss her off at most opportunities. she'd thought before that he had good skill but she's not about to compliment him just yet )
Then you need better timing.
( because as great as sharing is it was ineffective when it wasn't working for him. especially not when his interpretation was different to hers -- she was annoyed and he thought his truth should have been more appreciated )
he honestly doesn't know what she means - what he's said doesn't match what he's done? - and there's a frustrated pressure building in his skull, in the tension of his shoulders.
the trouble with timing he can understand, maybe; daud's sensed that when dealing with other people, his sense of timing isn't always the strongest. the rest, though, and the way she so obstinately refuses to accept what he's giving her...
when he speaks, his frustration is clear, the growl of his voice more pronounced. ]
( it wasn't a delay tactic or even river trying to avoid the point but something that was actually related. if he had enough patience to try and see it anyway )
Why are combat skills and information important to you? Why do you respect them?
( he might, this time, notice a wave of calm flowing through her words, the irritation dropping. she starting to find a little bit of patience because, rather than be snippy he does seem to be trying, even if he is apparently pretty dense )
( pay attention daud because this is a good lesson to have )
You pry, you seek information and you don't seem to care what effect it has on people. ( it had taken him a long while to realise that his needling was pissing her off ) I'm asking you something that matters to you -- to understand. Knowing information about people is useless without a context for it.
[ he doesn't much care for the feeling of being lectured to. (though it isn't only that. there's something more earnest to her speech than any lecture would imply.) does this woman think he doesn't understand the value of context? moreover, does she not understand that there are times information must be taken without context, held suspended for future investigation? ]
Discerning context is only another way of gathering information.
[ his head is aching. and he is, he's tired. tired of this talking around nothing. something's off and won't slip into place, and he can't figure out how to connect the pieces of please this void-forsaken woman. ]
I understand I went too far. That I didn't deal with you as a peer. That's what I'm trying to say.
( she got her apology, she should stop there -- it was what she wanted but she also knows that she's going to end up dealing with this man again. she'd rather have that pleasant conversation she knows is in there (she may have been drunk but she remembers some) rather than how everything had been going )
That's something for you to think on.
( but she knows when this is done, giving him a nod as she turns to go back inside. he'd learn better if this wasn't forced )
[ he watches after the woman, making no attempt to stop her. half-glad this pressured encounter's over, half-annoyed - unsettled? - to find that they'd achieved no concrete agreement, he drums his fingers against his thigh, telling himself he'd done what he could. telling himself that her words mean nothing.
as if that were possible.
'you'll do it again unless you learn something.' she can't know the depth of resonance those words carry. can't know the way they enter into his marrow, hollow out his bones until he feels only the threat of recurrence, of what he's been, of what he'll be again.
it's true that he'd dealt poorly with her earlier, slipped back into old habits of address. it's true he could do the same again. 'unless you learn' but what. he's tried, and this... that it should happen in spite of his efforts to hide himself. how many times might it happen again, with no warning.
he doesn't care for this. he doesn't like the way he feels. and rubbing a hand across his jaw, he stares off into nothing, trying to quiet the questions now crowding his skull. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
River.
[ he turns, doesn't try to follow or lay a hand on her. he can't hide his discomfort, or he doesn't try to; is too wrapped up in a tangle of figuring out how to address this problem. ]
What happened earlier. It's—
[ he's doing this wrong. he doesn't precisely know how to proceed. ]
Historically, I haven't been accustomed to cooperation.
no subject
That's an understatement.
( and she was the one who'd gotten the brunt of it. what about others, how did they fare with him or was she just that lucky? )
But you went too far.
( he'd been a prickly asshole all the time but then add in manipulation and cold )
no subject
(it occurs to daud that he doesn't have to do any of this. that he doesn't strictly need to play nice with this woman. only it'd be foolish to make enemies here. only she's skillful could be useful could be worth knowing even worth respecting, certainly is no fool. and she didn't merit the hostility he'd given her. didn't merit any of that treatment, at all.)
'i'm aware,' he almost says. instead, there's a moment's hesitation, and then— ]
You're right.
[ he's painfully aware of her eyes on him. painfully aware of the sound of their voices and the unseen presence of others nearby, nestled in their insulae or walking the roofs or gathered around the courtyard. ]
This isn't the right place to... Can we?
[ he motions toward mercury's courtyard. if it isn't strictly private, it's a step above standing so exposed. ]
no subject
but this feels necessary, feels like if she doesn't do it now that she'll never do it. so, almost reluctantly, river nods, following where he leads )
no subject
he knows what's coming, vagely. hadn't gone to her intending to offer anything, but it's becoming clear that if he's to make any lasting amends, he'll need to share more than an apology.
he knows what’s coming, but can’t think too close on it or he’ll risk backing out. because this isn’t something he offers readily. because this is a secret he’s kept close from most everyone here.
when he finally speaks, his voice is soft, not likely to carry beyond the immediate area. he flexes his left hand, scans the area, looks back at river. ]
You spoke of what you lost. What you were before coming here.
I don’t care to talk about it, but. I lost something coming here, too.
no subject
( it's a conversation that they'd briefly touched on, a knowledge partly shared. she knows what he's doing, partly why, but she gives a shake of her head )
I don't need to know what it is.
( especially not now, though if he wanted to tell her she wouldn't stop him )
no subject
his response comes almost too quickly. ]
Even so.
I'd rather you didn't share what I'm about to say.
no subject
Surprisingly I know the value of a secret.
( considering how much she keeps secrets, which he should know considering how little she tries to tell him )
no subject
he watches her for a long moment. holds back a half-heartedly snide remark, reminding himself that he can't get caught up in irritation. ]
All right.
[ again he scans the courtyard, the roofs above. ]
Where I'm from, I possessed certain abilities. Powers. Enhancements in constitution, speed.
no subject
How did you get them?
no subject
That's beside the point.
[ it probably isn't. it absolutely isn't. but that's more than he's willing to say, and he has to keep himself from grimacing at the question, or at the thought of speaking so far to this woman.
there's one person in rome who knows the origin of his past powers. one person who'd put the pieces together for herself, surprising him the way she so often does. daud trusts cassandra with the information; he can't place such faith in river. ]
It's enough to know that I had them.
I could transverse space in the blink of an eye. Detect presences through solid walls. Bring time to a stop.
[ summon assassins to his side. turns enemies to ash. and so on, but heisn't about to share those particular abilities. ]
no subject
( river would certainly appreciate this information more if it had come at a different time. if she knew him better or wasn't angry she would care more -- would be interested by what he could do, particularly if he could still do it.
as it is it feels pointless. he's sharing it because she shared something and it doesn't comfort her or please her much in the slightest. honestly, if she had to choose, she would have preferred a simple apology and to be left to go on with her business but... this was daud )
Telling me this simply because I told you something.
( prove her wrong, daud )
no subject
it isn’t so simple as that.
it isn't so simple as what she's saying, and must she be so dense? ]
Is that what I’m doing.
[ careful. he needs to be careful, especially given what he’s just said. ]
I don’t speak lightly of my history.
What I said to you earlier was uncalled for. I can’t say I appreciate your company, but I respect your talents enough to offer something in return.
no subject
Then you need better timing.
( because as great as sharing is it was ineffective when it wasn't working for him. especially not when his interpretation was different to hers -- she was annoyed and he thought his truth should have been more appreciated )
Because what you said doesn't match what you do.
( she doesn't feel respected )
no subject
he honestly doesn't know what she means - what he's said doesn't match what he's done? - and there's a frustrated pressure building in his skull, in the tension of his shoulders.
the trouble with timing he can understand, maybe; daud's sensed that when dealing with other people, his sense of timing isn't always the strongest. the rest, though, and the way she so obstinately refuses to accept what he's giving her...
when he speaks, his frustration is clear, the growl of his voice more pronounced. ]
What are you saying.
no subject
( it wasn't a delay tactic or even river trying to avoid the point but something that was actually related. if he had enough patience to try and see it anyway )
no subject
[ oh. right. what he’d said.
he stares at her for a long moment, trying to decide whether she’s serious. he thinks she might just be. ]
Your skills in combat.
Your capacity for evaluating the worth of information.
[ is that sufficient? or? ]
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( keep bearing with her, daud. she promises it'll be worth it )
no subject
or would, only it doesn't precisely make sense to him. what he almost says is 'i don't have time for this.' what she gets instead— ]
I don't know what you mean.
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( he might, this time, notice a wave of calm flowing through her words, the irritation dropping. she starting to find a little bit of patience because, rather than be snippy he does seem to be trying, even if he is apparently pretty dense )
no subject
Why does it matter.
[ and, shortly thereafter, sounding tired— ]
You want more information.
no subject
( pay attention daud because this is a good lesson to have )
You pry, you seek information and you don't seem to care what effect it has on people. ( it had taken him a long while to realise that his needling was pissing her off ) I'm asking you something that matters to you -- to understand. Knowing information about people is useless without a context for it.
no subject
Discerning context is only another way of gathering information.
[ his head is aching. and he is, he's tired. tired of this talking around nothing. something's off and won't slip into place, and he can't figure out how to connect the pieces of please this void-forsaken woman. ]
I understand I went too far. That I didn't deal with you as a peer. That's what I'm trying to say.
no subject
( she got her apology, she should stop there -- it was what she wanted but she also knows that she's going to end up dealing with this man again. she'd rather have that pleasant conversation she knows is in there (she may have been drunk but she remembers some) rather than how everything had been going )
That's something for you to think on.
( but she knows when this is done, giving him a nod as she turns to go back inside. he'd learn better if this wasn't forced )
no subject
as if that were possible.
'you'll do it again unless you learn something.' she can't know the depth of resonance those words carry. can't know the way they enter into his marrow, hollow out his bones until he feels only the threat of recurrence, of what he's been, of what he'll be again.
it's true that he'd dealt poorly with her earlier, slipped back into old habits of address. it's true he could do the same again. 'unless you learn' but what. he's tried, and this... that it should happen in spite of his efforts to hide himself. how many times might it happen again, with no warning.
he doesn't care for this. he doesn't like the way he feels. and rubbing a hand across his jaw, he stares off into nothing, trying to quiet the questions now crowding his skull. ]