[ she's going to open the door to put away the sleeping bag first, then the tent, then comes back out with a small box which she hands over to him. ]
I was serious when I said I was having difficulty with getting presents for certain people, you know. I got yours last.
[ inside was a silver compass and a foldable sundial on a chain (pretend it's silver, shh). it's a little weathered at the edges -- the telltale signs of an antique that's been fixed up and ready to go.
she's silent for a moment before finding her voice. ]
You probably don't even need something like this this, so it's okay if you never have to. You always seem to know where you're going without it, anyway.
But... you never really know where the wind will take you next, so. Better safe than sorry. [ more silence, the more she thinks about it. ] I should've gotten you a new coat or something. Too late now.
[ It's a valid argument: what does a man with an impeccable sense of direction need a compass for? After all, he's the one people turn to when they're lost, the guy with the answer to every "which way now?"
At first, he's quiet. Struck with an awe he doesn't let linger too long, he reminds himself to respond—an acknowledgement owned to Ishmael. Slowly, a smile unfolds across his face, bright and unrestrained. The compass chain dangles from his fingers as he clasps his hands behind his back, leaning forward to meet her eyes from a slightly longer angle. It sways gently, a slow, rhythmic motion, as his fingers nudge it back and forth like a metronome.
Noooo hiding your face, missy. ]
But, see, I can't take a coat everywhere with me, regardless of how much I might want to. A compass, though? That I can—rain, shine, no matter the climate.
[ Pausing, as if to consider his words carefully, his voice is gentler than it is usually. ]
There's only so much confidence a person can have in themselves, even when they're at the top of their field. Just as there are highs, there are bound to be lows. Sometimes, we all need something—or someone—to steady us, to remind us of the paths we've chosen and the values we hold dear. Even if I don't need a compass for its practical function, it represents something far greater, doesn't it? The spirit of an explorer and the unwavering belief that, no matter how uncertain the journey, so long as they keep moving forward, they'll eventually find their way.
[ Reaching out with the same hand from which the compass still dangles, he gently ruffles the front of her bangs, the motion light and unhurried. ]
Heheh. Thanks, Ishmael. [ … ] It's been a tough few months, but it'll work out. The fact that we'll all be able to come together tomorrow is a sign of that.
[ stop, don't just lean down and grin like that. it's enough to make her lean back against the door a bit slightly, but she stands her ground nonetheless and stares at him head-on. there's no use hiding the slight flush from her cheeks too, but... anyway.
at least he gets where she's coming from with this gift. it's the thought that counts, at the end of the day. can't really imagine him at his very lowest with how good he is at hiding it with his bluster and easygoing smile, but she supposes that navigators will encounter a blind spot or two inevitably.
she continues to be silent as elysium ruffles her hair, frowning a bit slightly at the sudden display of affection but otherwise doesn't make a move to shove his hand away. ]
You've already met my compass, so I figured that you needed something like that as a reminder too. [ ... ] Dante once told me that we are all captains of our own hearts. And while sometimes we let others take the helm when we happen to be sailing the same path, you still have to be the captain of your own ship at the end of the day.
[ a small huff, as she takes the hand from her head by the wrist. ]
We may all come together tomorrow, but there will come a time where either of us will vanish from this world one day. We're not meant to stay here for too long [ she's not even going to verbally point out the probability that elysium will leave first. somehow she knows this. it almost always happens, and by now she's used to it. ] I just hope that you'll be able to find your way to your Elysium no matter what happens.
[ cute!! the thought crosses his mind to boop her nose, the playful urge tugging at him like a child drawn to a particularly tantalising prank. But he stops himself, the ghost of a knowing smirk playing at his lips. He's well aware of what he's doing—pushing their boundaries just enough to see her cheeks pinken, but not so far as to risk ruining the moment entirely.
A little restraint, after all, goes a long way. ]
What wise words. But if I had to make a modification, I wouldn't make it sound so solitary. Sure, we're all the captains of our own ship, but crews are never comprised of a single person; isn't that the difference between commandeering a sailboat and a full-fledged ship? Without our first officer, our navigator, our engineer, and the rest of our seamen, we'd never reach any worthwhile destination on our own. And, there's no shame about that.
[ Then, it's instinctive, more than anything, the way he reacts when she takes his hand by the wrist. His body moves almost reflexively, twisting his arm at an angle, and his fingers close around hers with a firm, steady grip. The touch is brief, but it holds a certain strength, a silent acknowledgement of her own words. After a heartbeat, he lets go, returning their hands to their sides with the same calm composure. ]
… Uh huh. I will. In ways, I already have. So, you needn't worry about me so incessantly. Crews aren't meant to consist of just two people either—so I hope you continue to cherish each of your bonds just as deeply.
[ leaning back now, ]
Don't let your arguments run for so long again, yeah? [ the burlap sack won't be there next time. ]
For the record, I wasn't thinking of a sailboat or a big ship or something like that. I was more or less describing a skiff. [ a soft laugh. ] But yeah, you're right. Wish that old hag had understood it from the beginning.
[ instead, the pequod had gone around and around in circles until its very demise thanks to its captain. ishmael was so close to ending up like her, only to be stopped just in time because of the very bonds she'd built on the bus. and it's something that she'll forever hold on to, like the ropes that had saved her life that day.
another bout of silence fills the air, which perplexes her somewhat. she's usually capable of speaking her mind, but elysium has an uncanny way of seeing right through her that she can't help but hold up her walls in self-defense anyway. regardless, she swallows her trepidation down and makes herself smile. after all, he seemed to like the gift she'd gotten him. ]
Anyway, you probably have other people to deliver gifts to, so I'm gonna leave you to it.
[ the door slides open behind her. ]
...I'll see you around?
[ yet that odd feeling of uncertainty remains. it's probably nothing. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I was serious when I said I was having difficulty with getting presents for certain people, you know. I got yours last.
[ inside was a silver compass and a foldable sundial on a chain (pretend it's silver, shh). it's a little weathered at the edges -- the telltale signs of an antique that's been fixed up and ready to go.
she's silent for a moment before finding her voice. ]
You probably don't even need something like this this, so it's okay if you never have to. You always seem to know where you're going without it, anyway.
But... you never really know where the wind will take you next, so. Better safe than sorry. [ more silence, the more she thinks about it. ] I should've gotten you a new coat or something. Too late now.
[ she tries so hard to be casual, sniffles..... ]
no subject
At first, he's quiet. Struck with an awe he doesn't let linger too long, he reminds himself to respond—an acknowledgement owned to Ishmael. Slowly, a smile unfolds across his face, bright and unrestrained. The compass chain dangles from his fingers as he clasps his hands behind his back, leaning forward to meet her eyes from a slightly longer angle. It sways gently, a slow, rhythmic motion, as his fingers nudge it back and forth like a metronome.
Noooo hiding your face, missy. ]
But, see, I can't take a coat everywhere with me, regardless of how much I might want to. A compass, though? That I can—rain, shine, no matter the climate.
[ Pausing, as if to consider his words carefully, his voice is gentler than it is usually. ]
There's only so much confidence a person can have in themselves, even when they're at the top of their field. Just as there are highs, there are bound to be lows. Sometimes, we all need something—or someone—to steady us, to remind us of the paths we've chosen and the values we hold dear. Even if I don't need a compass for its practical function, it represents something far greater, doesn't it? The spirit of an explorer and the unwavering belief that, no matter how uncertain the journey, so long as they keep moving forward, they'll eventually find their way.
[ Reaching out with the same hand from which the compass still dangles, he gently ruffles the front of her bangs, the motion light and unhurried. ]
Heheh. Thanks, Ishmael. [ … ] It's been a tough few months, but it'll work out. The fact that we'll all be able to come together tomorrow is a sign of that.
no subject
at least he gets where she's coming from with this gift. it's the thought that counts, at the end of the day. can't really imagine him at his very lowest with how good he is at hiding it with his bluster and easygoing smile, but she supposes that navigators will encounter a blind spot or two inevitably.
she continues to be silent as elysium ruffles her hair, frowning a bit slightly at the sudden display of affection but otherwise doesn't make a move to shove his hand away. ]
You've already met my compass, so I figured that you needed something like that as a reminder too. [ ... ] Dante once told me that we are all captains of our own hearts. And while sometimes we let others take the helm when we happen to be sailing the same path, you still have to be the captain of your own ship at the end of the day.
[ a small huff, as she takes the hand from her head by the wrist. ]
We may all come together tomorrow, but there will come a time where either of us will vanish from this world one day. We're not meant to stay here for too long [ she's not even going to verbally point out the probability that elysium will leave first. somehow she knows this. it almost always happens, and by now she's used to it. ] I just hope that you'll be able to find your way to your Elysium no matter what happens.
Okay?
no subject
A little restraint, after all, goes a long way. ]
What wise words. But if I had to make a modification, I wouldn't make it sound so solitary. Sure, we're all the captains of our own ship, but crews are never comprised of a single person; isn't that the difference between commandeering a sailboat and a full-fledged ship? Without our first officer, our navigator, our engineer, and the rest of our seamen, we'd never reach any worthwhile destination on our own. And, there's no shame about that.
[ Then, it's instinctive, more than anything, the way he reacts when she takes his hand by the wrist. His body moves almost reflexively, twisting his arm at an angle, and his fingers close around hers with a firm, steady grip. The touch is brief, but it holds a certain strength, a silent acknowledgement of her own words. After a heartbeat, he lets go, returning their hands to their sides with the same calm composure. ]
… Uh huh. I will. In ways, I already have. So, you needn't worry about me so incessantly. Crews aren't meant to consist of just two people either—so I hope you continue to cherish each of your bonds just as deeply.
[ leaning back now, ]
Don't let your arguments run for so long again, yeah? [ the burlap sack won't be there next time. ]
1/2
nope, she's going to reach over and pinch at his cheek hard. ]
I still have to get you back for that. Asshole.
no subject
For the record, I wasn't thinking of a sailboat or a big ship or something like that. I was more or less describing a skiff. [ a soft laugh. ] But yeah, you're right. Wish that old hag had understood it from the beginning.
[ instead, the pequod had gone around and around in circles until its very demise thanks to its captain. ishmael was so close to ending up like her, only to be stopped just in time because of the very bonds she'd built on the bus. and it's something that she'll forever hold on to, like the ropes that had saved her life that day.
another bout of silence fills the air, which perplexes her somewhat. she's usually capable of speaking her mind, but elysium has an uncanny way of seeing right through her that she can't help but hold up her walls in self-defense anyway. regardless, she swallows her trepidation down and makes herself smile. after all, he seemed to like the gift she'd gotten him. ]
Anyway, you probably have other people to deliver gifts to, so I'm gonna leave you to it.
[ the door slides open behind her. ]
...I'll see you around?
[ yet that odd feeling of uncertainty remains. it's probably nothing. ]