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controlledvariable) wrote2014-02-02 07:59 pm
controlledvariable) wrote2014-02-02 07:59 pm
exsilium; ic inbox
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[She sets her jaw, forces herself not to flinch at the sharpness in his tone. It's stupid, and she knows it, but some reactions are hard to ignore.]
He'll stay away from me. [Somehow she manages to sound steady, and manages not to laugh at the thought of Saul dealing with Nikolai on her behalf (it would've been a hysterical laugh, anyway).] I told him I'd take his hands if he touched me again, and he knows I meant it.
[Becase she would, she wouldn't even think about.]
He'll stay away from me. [Somehow she manages to sound steady, and manages not to laugh at the thought of Saul dealing with Nikolai on her behalf (it would've been a hysterical laugh, anyway).] I told him I'd take his hands if he touched me again, and he knows I meant it.
[Becase she would, she wouldn't even think about.]
[It's not that he doesn't think Steph can't take care of herself — he's just learned, lately, that this is a place where the gap between talk and action is huge, and one doesn't lead to the other like it did back home. Maybe he's trying to learn to do a little more of the latter.
He drops his gaze to the floor, frowning. When he looks back up, the anger's vanished, and he almost looks... sad, maybe.]
I'm sorry.
He drops his gaze to the floor, frowning. When he looks back up, the anger's vanished, and he almost looks... sad, maybe.]
I'm sorry.
Yeah. [She's sorry, too, even if she feels like she should say something more like you didn't do anything wrong or it's not your fault. She just can't.
She wishes she had another drink, but asking for that seems like something beyond her right now, too.]
There was-- [God, she hasn't really talked about this since telling Tim and she just has to remind herself to breathe for a second.] I was eleven.
[Looking at Saul right now is entirely out of the question, Steph just runs a hand through her hair, like that might help with any of this.] Nothing-- It's not-- [Come on, Brown, talk.] It doesn't matter, this is just... complicated.
[Complicated doesn't really seem like a strong enough word.]
I should go.
[She should really go, but she's not actually sure how to manage it.]
She wishes she had another drink, but asking for that seems like something beyond her right now, too.]
There was-- [God, she hasn't really talked about this since telling Tim and she just has to remind herself to breathe for a second.] I was eleven.
[Looking at Saul right now is entirely out of the question, Steph just runs a hand through her hair, like that might help with any of this.] Nothing-- It's not-- [Come on, Brown, talk.] It doesn't matter, this is just... complicated.
[Complicated doesn't really seem like a strong enough word.]
I should go.
[She should really go, but she's not actually sure how to manage it.]
[Dealing with clients is one thing. Dealing with friends is another. Dealing with this? He doesn't even know where to start. He can't — touch her, pat her shoulder or anything. None of that. Not now.]
You don't have to talk about it. You can, uh —
[He gestures vaguely toward the bed, then out toward the hall. What is he trying to say?]
If you want. I mean — if you'd rather not go. No one'll bother you. I'll take the couch. You can have the liquor, too.
[problem solving with saul goodman
At least his intent is genuine. He's concerned. Worried, even. And he has no idea what else to do about it.]
You don't have to talk about it. You can, uh —
[He gestures vaguely toward the bed, then out toward the hall. What is he trying to say?]
If you want. I mean — if you'd rather not go. No one'll bother you. I'll take the couch. You can have the liquor, too.
[problem solving with saul goodman
At least his intent is genuine. He's concerned. Worried, even. And he has no idea what else to do about it.]
[It's kind of mean, but she just - laughs, shaky and maybe just bordering on bitter and hysterical, because it's not actually funny, that he's struggling to figure out how to deal with this mess she's just thrown at him.]
Sorry. [She drags her thumb along the rim of the glass, letting it dig into her skin a little.] I just wanted to explain. I probably should've... done it better.
[Is there any good way to explain all that?]
Sorry. [She drags her thumb along the rim of the glass, letting it dig into her skin a little.] I just wanted to explain. I probably should've... done it better.
[Is there any good way to explain all that?]
No, I'm —
[Well, no. "Glad" isn't the right word. He nudges the bottle toward her.]
I appreciate that you told me. It's just —
[Maybe this'll be easier, if he keeps it businesslike. Or it'll make him want to laugh in a not-amused way. Or both?]
How should we proceed from here?
[...no, just the latter. Really, Saul?]
[Well, no. "Glad" isn't the right word. He nudges the bottle toward her.]
I appreciate that you told me. It's just —
[Maybe this'll be easier, if he keeps it businesslike. Or it'll make him want to laugh in a not-amused way. Or both?]
How should we proceed from here?
[...no, just the latter. Really, Saul?]
[The bottle is accepted gratefully, and she tries to poor herself a glass, she really does, but her hands aren't steady enough that she'll be able to manage it without spilling scotch everywhere. So she just takes a drink straight from the bottle, but at least when she's moving the bottle back down, she manages to finally look at him, if only because she's so incredulous at what he just said.]
Really?
[Just - really.]
Really?
[Just - really.]
[If he looked any more sheepish, he'd be covered in wool.
But there's a trace of something else in his expression now, too, aside from the faint embarrassment. Curiosity?]
What's that on your jaw?
But there's a trace of something else in his expression now, too, aside from the faint embarrassment. Curiosity?]
What's that on your jaw?
[Shit.]
Um.
[What's on her jaw is the bruise from where Helena punched her, and she'd done a half-decent job of covering it up, but apparently she missed the spot where the bruise stretches under her chin.
She really hadn't wanted Saul to see that.]
That'd be a bruise. [Briefly, she considers lying, but even if he'd buy it, she feels like she owes him better than that.] Someone from back home thought I wasn't me. [No, that doesn't make sense.] Or - thought I was pretending to be me. They didn't think I was Steph, basically. I let them hit me 'cause I knew it'd make them feel better.
[Oh boy.
At least this is easier than talking about Murray or Nikolai.]
Um.
[What's on her jaw is the bruise from where Helena punched her, and she'd done a half-decent job of covering it up, but apparently she missed the spot where the bruise stretches under her chin.
She really hadn't wanted Saul to see that.]
That'd be a bruise. [Briefly, she considers lying, but even if he'd buy it, she feels like she owes him better than that.] Someone from back home thought I wasn't me. [No, that doesn't make sense.] Or - thought I was pretending to be me. They didn't think I was Steph, basically. I let them hit me 'cause I knew it'd make them feel better.
[Oh boy.
At least this is easier than talking about Murray or Nikolai.]
so I knew this tag was coming and had to get it out before dozing off
5055034455
2013-06-10 04:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[Considering the conversation that happened not five minutes ago, Saul's knee-jerk reaction should not be to want to kiss it.
Good god, man.
Instead, he frowns, expression critical and a little disappointed.]
'cause you knew it'd make them feel better. That's great, Steph.
Good god, man.
Instead, he frowns, expression critical and a little disappointed.]
'cause you knew it'd make them feel better. That's great, Steph.
[That expression she makes her shrink in on herself a little, grip tightening around the neck of the bottle.]
She thought I was dead. My funeral would've only been a few months ago, for her.
[As if that even remotely explains the situation.
She's a bit too wrapped up in her own thoughts to realize how bad that all sounds.]
She thought I was dead. My funeral would've only been a few months ago, for her.
[As if that even remotely explains the situation.
She's a bit too wrapped up in her own thoughts to realize how bad that all sounds.]
i know
[Get it because she's--
No it's okay she'll show herself out.]
no you wouldn't
[Get it because she's--
No it's okay she'll show herself out.]
no you wouldn't
Stephanie?
( Sicily, today, not Gotham. Well, still Gotham. Just not Huntress. )
( Sicily, today, not Gotham. Well, still Gotham. Just not Huntress. )
Yes...?
[DID SHE DO SOMETHING WRONG OH GOD WHY IS THAT HER INSTANT REACTION TO BAT-AUTHORITY FIGURES.]
[DID SHE DO SOMETHING WRONG OH GOD WHY IS THAT HER INSTANT REACTION TO BAT-AUTHORITY FIGURES.]
( She knows that sound, little Bat. )
Are you free for dinner?
( Also, how is your jaw? )
Are you free for dinner?
( Also, how is your jaw? )
[Play it cool, Brown. Deep breaths.]
For you? Always.
[Because flirting with people certainly hasn't gotten her into any trouble lately.]
For you? Always.
[Because flirting with people certainly hasn't gotten her into any trouble lately.]
( Dinah, she is stuck with a younger Dinah. The silence that hangs on this end indicates that she is judging Stephanie harshly, before she speaks. )
Don't make me revoke the invitation.
( Not that she'd actually invited her yet. )
Don't make me revoke the invitation.
( Not that she'd actually invited her yet. )
You haven't even given me one, yet.
[welp]
[welp]
Because I'm beginning to have second thoughts.
( No she's kidding. )
Have you ever had Italian? Real Italian?
( No she's kidding. )
Have you ever had Italian? Real Italian?
I'm just letting you know what you're in for.
[Which is "Everything Steph chooses to be"]
Uh, probably not? Does Alfred's cooking count?
[Which is "Everything Steph chooses to be"]
Uh, probably not? Does Alfred's cooking count?
you're a shocker
you know, i'm starting to think that's a compliment
I can imagine.
( Dinah Lance. Just... Dinah Lance.
And never did you think such withering disdain could be communicated in one syllable: ) No.
Come over at six. ( It's not an order. But it could be. )
( Dinah Lance. Just... Dinah Lance.
And never did you think such withering disdain could be communicated in one syllable: ) No.
Come over at six. ( It's not an order. But it could be. )
I'm telling him you said that.
[Man don't even insult Alfred or his cooking she will fight you.]
Should I bring wine?
[... Actually a genuine question.]
[Man don't even insult Alfred or his cooking she will fight you.]
Should I bring wine?
[... Actually a genuine question.]
you would
( there's a moment, where she's gnawing at her lip instead of typing. )
hey, there's a lot of people who are heaps sick, here, and I don't know how infectious they are
you don't have to come in, I know you need to be on your best game all the time
( there's a moment, where she's gnawing at her lip instead of typing. )
hey, there's a lot of people who are heaps sick, here, and I don't know how infectious they are
you don't have to come in, I know you need to be on your best game all the time
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