strangetrip | [EP/GP] Today is Check-In Day

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[EP/GP] Today is Check-In Day

When the fifteenth of the month came and went without any new arrivals, most people logically supposed that there would be no new arrivals that week, or that the pattern they believed they'd found was false after all.

Kitty Pryde, Caroline Forbes, and Phryne Fisher were decidedly not most people.

Between them, they agreed it would be best to keep a watch for a few days following the fifteenth, on the grounds that, often enough, holidays interrupted regular schedules, which would reassert themselves again at the next instance. If "keeping a watch" had required them to do anything out of the ordinary, they might have been somewhat less sanguine about it. Might have, as they were not, after all, most people. Yet since their routines, almost invariably, had them in public places, working and people-watching, it required no special effort on their part to be alert for new arrivals.

So it was that Phryne had taken up a table in the lobby cafe to read and hold court, while Kitty took an extra shift tending bar, and Caroline tidied up and labeled the boxes of decorations from Valentine's day "for next year's residents" on the morning of the sixteenth and again on the seventeenth--and not one of them were surprised when, in early afternoon, newcomers began to arrive.

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"That, I definitely don't know." Ignis turned to fetch a plate and fork. Years of practice kept his tone even instead of bitter - he missed reading, yes, but it wasn't strictly required to be functional. "I'm nearly certain there isn't a library sort of area, but beyond that... I apologize."

Alcuin winced. "I'm sorry, that was rather insensitive." He bit his lip, and then added after a pause, "If it turns out there are books... I'd be happy to read to you in exchange for cooking lessons." Well, he'd be happy to read to him anyway. He couldn't imagine anything worse than not being able to read.

"Not at all." The dismissal of the apology was immediate and genuine. "I rather enjoy those sorts of slips. It's people talking to me, rather than my handicap, you see."

The omelet slid neatly out of the pan and onto the plate, which Ignis then offered to Alcuin along with the fork. The phrase that's a kind offer but almost escaped before he thought again. Alcuin had a lovely voice indeed, and listening to him read would give Ignis an entirely innocent excuse to enjoy it. As well, his immediate desire to be of help and of use... likely he'd enjoy the reading as much as Ignis enjoyed the cooking lessons. Hardly an unfair trade on either side. "I'd be happy to give you cooking lessons regardless, but if you're willing and it's possible, the reading would be quite pleasant."

It was such a small thing, and yet Alcuin felt so good about it. He really did like making other people happy.

"Good," he said, sounding pleased.

And then, after taking the plate of food - "Thank you," and brushed his lips to Ignis' cheek, before settling back onto one of the stools. D'Angelines were tactile, warm, and wouldn't occur to him that such casual touch might not have been well received.

...what? Ignis froze in something like shock for a second or two after those lips touched his cheek. It wasn't exactly intimate, nothing that should have thrown him, but... in general, people didn't touch him much. (Barring, of course, magic forcing them into it.) Touches to his arm or hand to guide him, whether or not he needed it, was the usual limit. Even before, he'd largely been excepted from the rough-housing affection-in-passing among his friends. His personality, he'd come to understand, simply didn't invite affection.

So a kiss without magical force behind it, even a brief and chaste one, was pure surprise. Pleasant, yes, but that didn't negate the seconds of confusion. He recovered, he thought, rather nicely. All things considered. "Ah... you're welcome. Any time."

Alcuin had not been looking at him while moving to sit again, and so did not notice his initial reaction.

"Will you join me?" he asked, looking up then. Hoping that Ignis didn't intend to simply leave him to his meal now. He wanted the company.

"I... certainly." Very well, perhaps Ignis was still somewhat unbalanced, but the casual request helped more than he expected. Apparently it was simply Alcuin's way, no doubt in time he would become less... demonstrative, as he met more people.

Until then, he was very pleasant company indeed. Ignis took a seat in what he judged was the seat next to Alcuin. "I've no other claims on my time."

Alcuin took a bite of the food in front of him, which was somewhat familiar and yet new at the same time. He immediately felt better, and even made a little "mmm" sound after he swallowed. "Merciful Elua I'm not even sure I realized how hungry I was. Thank you, Ignis."

"You're quite welcome." A significant part of why he enjoyed cooking was the enjoyment of others, after all. Ignis did not, however, miss the reference to 'Elua' - not a deity he knew, but it stood to reason that other worlds would have other gods, didn't it? "If you're still hungry once you've finished, let me know."

Alcuin ate for a moment, assuming that Ignis wouldn't mind the temporary silence. He realized that he'd been feeling low grade nausea ever since he'd arrived, and that perhaps it wasn't all emotional. He felt instantly slightly better.

"You're only the second person I've met here," he finally said, his voice quiet. "I appreciate the distraction as well as the food. Every moment I have where my thoughts can wander, they... wander to bad places."

"That, I certainly understand." He'd been doing much the same thing, for longer. Anything that kept him from dwelling on things which he could not have helped in any case, but stung harder because he was not there. "Where I came from was... not pleasant." And if that was the same as describing a tornado as 'rather breezy', he felt Alcuin might hear it.

Alcuin was almost relieved to hear that, that he wasn't the only one who might be... completely messed up.

"Do you think this is an afterlife?" he asked after a moment. "I had a hole from a sword through my stomach when I arrived."

"I... it's possible." A second of thought turned I don't think so into it's possible between one word and the next. Given how many powerful daemons had been converging on the Palace to stop Noctis... could he be sure that he hadn't simply been swarmed too quickly to know it? "A cruel one, if so, considering I know for a fact that one of my companions would have died just before or just after me, and he's not here. On the whole, I would rather think not."

Alcuin hesitated, partly because even thinking of Anafiel made him feel on the edge of breaking down into sobs. But he managed to say, his voice a bit shaky, "Same. I... someone died with me. I mean, if I... well. You see. I asked. He's not here."

"My condolences." Most people had left someone behind, but very few were dealing with leaving someone behind immediately before or after their deaths. After a bare second to consider, Ignis reached out a hand to - he hoped - rest briefly on the other man's arm. Sympathy via light physical contact.

If it was a bad idea, no doubt he'd find out in short order. "I never asked about mine. If he was here, I'd know. If any of them were."

Physical contact was second nature to Alcuin. D'Angelines were, as he'd heard someone put it in a derogatory manner once, all about touching. He appreciated the gesture. In fact, he reached over and laid his hand on top of Ignis'. "Thank you," he said. "You asked me if I was lost earlier. I don't think I've ever felt so lost in my entire life."

How odd, not to be making obvious missteps or repelling someone. Generally, the other person in conversations like this had already attempted escape once. Alcuin took steps to keep him in place. "I imagine not. Any change as substantial as this one is... difficult." Shattering, he wanted to say.

Though it didn't compare to actively dying before arriving, Ignis offered (complete with a gesture of his free hand to the dark glasses and not-quite-hidden scars), "When this happened, I... froze, I suppose. Everything seemed impossible, for a while."

Alcuin had not wanted to ask him anything about his eyes, but with this opening, he said gently, "How long ago?" Then, intending it as a compliment to Ignis rather than a boast, "I did not even notice straight away, and I'm... unusually observant."

"Ten years, give or take. More than enough time to adjust." More than enough time, as well, to accept and even take advantage of his new reality. "It was to my benefit, during that time, that I make my deficiency as unobtrusive as possible." At first, he simply hadn't known where Gladio would draw the line between 'pulling his weight' and 'liability to be discarded', and later... it was rather satisfying.

Alcuin could not help but think how impressed Anafiel would be, and even moreso, the use he could have put Ignis to. Alcuin had always been useful because people underestimated him because of his beauty. He was decoration. No one suspected he understood five languages and could read lips. He inspired loose tongues. Imagine how they might overlook a blind man.

"Perhaps it is not so much a deficiency then," Alcuin said.

"At this point, for all practical purposes, it's a very small one," he agreed. Certainly far less than anyone, including Ignis himself, had thought in the early days. And for impractical purposes... he'd had greater deficiencies for longer, so disabled and disfigured were simply drops in the bucket.

Considering that, Ignis was tempted to retrieve his hand from underneath Alcuin's, but ultimately decided to leave it. If the other man wanted his hand back, all he had to do was move it.

The touch was welcome, and so he did not move his hand yet either.

And suddenly, something occurred to him... "You... don't know what I look like," he said, blinking. "My apologies, that's obvious. I'm just accustomed to that um, mediating my interactions quite a bit."

If Alcuin's appearance was such that it affected every interaction he had... he was at one extreme end or the other of beauty versus ugliness. His tendency towards casual unthinking touch was certainly a habit of beauty - with that, a touch to the hand or a kiss on the cheek would carry more weight than otherwise. A clever person would use that, get used to it, account for it in all their dealings.

Even if reason hadn't backed it, just by his voice Ignis would have been willing to believe that Alcuin was very beautiful indeed. But saying so was unlikely to go over particularly well. "I understand. I apologize for throwing you off, however unintentionally."

"Oh no, please don't apologize," Alcuin said hurriedly. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. Not at all." It was kind of nice, actually. He'd learned long ago that even D'Angelines, who were accustomed to beauty, treated him differently. It was a great asset to his role as a spy.

"Too late, I already have. But I shan't repeat it." Good enough, hopefully, because the last thing someone as lost as he'd ever been in his life needed was one more thing throwing off his balance and that much deserved some apology.

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