That's different, and both of us know it! You had to make an executive decision, that's fine! I get that! But! Look, forget specific partners right now. Bed or grass. Come on, girl.
(She's gulping the rest of that whiskey. She needs it, okay!!! It burns!! And the face she makes is a super scrunched up one, but look. She's right. Sciel can't take that away from her.)
Neither, because I’m never going to have to choose between them in practice! A bed is comfortable, and I love to fall asleep in someone’s arms, but I’m not going to wait to get to a bedroom if the mood strikes! Sometimes the grass is where the moment is.
Look! You're rigging my game! My point is, grass sucks, not that no one would fuck on it when the feels hit! My point is, comfort is important. He is choosing to fuck on the grass. Do you see what I'm trying to say, Sciel? Do you? Girl!
(Breaking News: Girl With Semi-Public Kink Talks Shit To Her Bestie, The Lion, The Witch, and The Audacity of This Bitch.)
[Sciel sits up a little straighter, feeling the pleasant shift of the earth beneath them with it as the whiskey goes right to her head.]
I do but mon coeur, I will make love anywhere. Grass is nothing. Where I am, my lover is, and we’re together in it, and a man who will kneel on bare rock for you is a man committed to your pleasure.
Oh! Right. I said I wasn't going to tell you and that you were going to have to sniff him out, bring your findings to me, and I'll tell you if you're right or not! Right, yeah. Ugh, 'lover'. Weird. 'Bane of my existence', 'significant annoyance', or 'evidence that karma is real' is more accurate.
(Screw the mug, she's drinking from the bottle, somewhere Emma is either really devastated or really proud, and she doesn't know which. It's whatever.)
'Lover' implies, well, love, duh. I don't love him. I sorta like him. I'm happy just being around him, but love? Nope. He doesn't like me at all or trust me, which, honestly, good! He shouldn't. The way he gets when he likes someone irritates me back to my grave, and considering I've literally died to be, or while being, a bitch to him, if he did trust me, he'd be super insane. So, lover? Off the table, babe.
Implies a level of gross sentimentality we just don't have, should have, or want to have. Ugh, chills, bad chills!
It does not imply that at all! A lover admires. A lover makes love to you, they can love you but they do not have to be in love with you. It can be for a night or a week or a lifetime, even if you can’t or won’t be together. But if it’s not for you, then it’s not for you, I still understand.
[She puts her mug out. Pour, share.]
Are Americans that afraid of a word? I don’t have another word for it.
Oh, God, again, the French and their poet soul. All that you said there? Deeeeeefinitely not us.
(Too strong of an idea, for starters. Sophie is horrified by the idea of 'love'. Love feels a little like weakness, vulnerability, offered on a silver platter. She was taught always to have the upper hand, and where does that even leave her? At the whims of someone else? Horrifying. Not to mention the fact that connection is all she knows. She stood on ten feet, and her individual traits so strongly irked some of unit that it caused her death. Caused heartache. Headache.
To connect again? To give someone such power? To be 'Sophie Cuckoo, girlfriend of X or Y'? To have her own feelings and thoughts again, so impacted by another, when the ones she did have never really mattered in the first place, to anyone?
Horrifying. Gross. Nope.
At least she is pouring. Someone kept the class, good for Sciel for not ditching the mug.)
It's not the word, it's the situation. And, yes, you do, except just keep using your poet mouth for high sentimentality! I'm sure you could come up with something. I came up with several! Significant annoyance really deserves a prize, and I don't think you gave me enough credit!
I don’t think it’s all that poetic, it’s just… normal!
[It often feels like Sophie wants to push people away from her, even while seeking out their company, wanting time with them. Sciel’s happy to indulge it. But it feels, at times, a little bit like a cat that bites after being pet just a second too long. Sciel’s never felt those teeth herself, but she imagines that lover has.]
So you’re “happy just being around him” and that he’s “pretty great” but have so many harsh things to say. It’s a little… qui s'excuse s'accuse? And there’s nothing wrong with that! I’d just love to know what you enjoy about him.
No, it definitely isn't! He'd be on my side, I can bet on it!
(No, it's worse. Sophie bit him for thinking he could pet her — for imagining that perhaps he could approach. For saving her from the pound, she scratched him right on the face, and willingly sat in her cage, locking it.
Or, in plain terms, he resurrected her, she said 'ew' and willed herself back to death, because how fucking dare he? The metaphor was nicer.
He has become the cat, now. No one is blaming him.)
He called me 'Regina George', so, I think I'm well within my rights here.
(First of all.)
He makes me laugh until there's no oxygen left in the room. Anyway, what do you even like about Verso? Dick does not count.
Right, because he’s afflicted with the same illness you are! And maybe that’s for the best, as you can be on the same side together, and laugh together, and make love.
[She smiles, a little wry. She still has no idea who Regina George is, but: gist taken.]
As for Verso… [She does need to think about that for a second, not because she doesn’t know or needs to dig, but because Verso is a hot topic and more than a little secretive, and there is a particular strategy to presenting him.] I like that despite everything he’s been through, he still cares about people, and finds it in himself to seek them out. I think that’s very resilient. And he’s persistent, in the best ways. Verso doesn’t really take no for an answer when he wants to help with something. He tries again and again, and doesn’t let me off the hook.
[Her gaze drifts off to the side, and her smile grows a little different, a little nostalgic.]
(Being with Quentin is more like a conversation, to be honest. Talking isn't their strongest point, so, they just found another language. Explaining their pitfalls to a non-telepath sounds like a headache, and thankfully, it doesn't occur to Sophie.
Quentin is audacious. He pushes her to think, challenges her, irreverent, bold, and never boring. Putting that to words is, well, weird, so she just used the thing she likes the most.
Sciel though? Has a whole list right off the bat. Not struggling with emotions must be nice.)
Do you, you know. Like him? What's up with that for you?
That’s not really the point of it. It’s a for-now thing.
[She gives a little shrug. She knows her affections for others can seem intense, whole-hearted. Being a chronic flirt has never helped, either. At one point in her life, she might have felt guilty about the impression she could leave, being this way, but now there doesn’t seem to be a point. This is just the here and now. As long as she’s upfront about her intentions…]
I fall a little bit in love with a lot of people. It’s nice, having that kind of companionship. But the plan is still to die someday and be with my husband.
(So Sciel gets it. All that talk of intensity, and yet, she gets the point of things being something else first and foremost. Good.)
Everything is a for now thing, Sciel. Even you and I is a 'for now'. You could die tomorrow, and so could I. Hell, it's a miracle both of us are alive, isn't it? You with the time bomb of the Monolith, and me with sororicide, this whole being alive for longer than we thought we were going to be is just fucky. Anyway, my feelings for you aren't any less valid or existent because I understand it may pass.
That said. You are going to die someday! Like, guaranteed. Till then?
[Lighthearted:] Oh, all my feelings are real, for you and my team and Verso and everyone. I wouldn’t have this tension with Gustave and Lune if I didn’t have real affection for him, you know, I’d just end it. It’s not even about how much time I do or don’t have left to take advantage of. It’s just… a different thing than it was with Pierre. Apples and pears, you know?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2025-11-26 11:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-11-26 11:39 pm (UTC)(She's gulping the rest of that whiskey. She needs it, okay!!! It burns!! And the face she makes is a super scrunched up one, but look. She's right. Sciel can't take that away from her.)
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Date: 2025-11-27 12:09 am (UTC)Neither, because I’m never going to have to choose between them in practice! A bed is comfortable, and I love to fall asleep in someone’s arms, but I’m not going to wait to get to a bedroom if the mood strikes! Sometimes the grass is where the moment is.
[Especially with her current roommates.]
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Date: 2025-11-28 09:30 pm (UTC)(Breaking News: Girl With Semi-Public Kink Talks Shit To Her Bestie, The Lion, The Witch, and The Audacity of This Bitch.)
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Date: 2025-11-28 10:27 pm (UTC)I do but mon coeur, I will make love anywhere. Grass is nothing. Where I am, my lover is, and we’re together in it, and a man who will kneel on bare rock for you is a man committed to your pleasure.
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Date: 2025-11-28 10:30 pm (UTC)(What was it that Sciel wanted to talk to her about... Damn you, alcohol.)
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Date: 2025-11-28 10:44 pm (UTC)[She’s moved on from whatever else she wanted to talk about.]
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Date: 2025-11-28 10:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-11-28 11:13 pm (UTC)What’s wrong with “lover”?
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Date: 2025-11-28 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-11-29 12:36 am (UTC)Too sincere?
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Date: 2025-11-29 12:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-11-29 01:00 am (UTC)Too sentimental when you don’t feel like you can risk it! I can’t relate but I understand.
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Date: 2025-11-29 01:11 am (UTC)(Screw the mug, she's drinking from the bottle, somewhere Emma is either really devastated or really proud, and she doesn't know which. It's whatever.)
'Lover' implies, well, love, duh. I don't love him. I sorta like him. I'm happy just being around him, but love? Nope. He doesn't like me at all or trust me, which, honestly, good! He shouldn't. The way he gets when he likes someone irritates me back to my grave, and considering I've literally died to be, or while being, a bitch to him, if he did trust me, he'd be super insane. So, lover? Off the table, babe.
Implies a level of gross sentimentality we just don't have, should have, or want to have. Ugh, chills, bad chills!
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Date: 2025-11-29 01:36 am (UTC)It does not imply that at all! A lover admires. A lover makes love to you, they can love you but they do not have to be in love with you. It can be for a night or a week or a lifetime, even if you can’t or won’t be together. But if it’s not for you, then it’s not for you, I still understand.
[She puts her mug out. Pour, share.]
Are Americans that afraid of a word? I don’t have another word for it.
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Date: 2025-11-29 01:59 am (UTC)(Too strong of an idea, for starters. Sophie is horrified by the idea of 'love'. Love feels a little like weakness, vulnerability, offered on a silver platter. She was taught always to have the upper hand, and where does that even leave her? At the whims of someone else? Horrifying. Not to mention the fact that connection is all she knows. She stood on ten feet, and her individual traits so strongly irked some of unit that it caused her death. Caused heartache. Headache.
To connect again? To give someone such power? To be 'Sophie Cuckoo, girlfriend of X or Y'? To have her own feelings and thoughts again, so impacted by another, when the ones she did have never really mattered in the first place, to anyone?
Horrifying. Gross. Nope.
At least she is pouring. Someone kept the class, good for Sciel for not ditching the mug.)
It's not the word, it's the situation. And, yes, you do, except just keep using your poet mouth for high sentimentality! I'm sure you could come up with something. I came up with several! Significant annoyance really deserves a prize, and I don't think you gave me enough credit!
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Date: 2025-11-29 02:19 am (UTC)I don’t think it’s all that poetic, it’s just… normal!
[It often feels like Sophie wants to push people away from her, even while seeking out their company, wanting time with them. Sciel’s happy to indulge it. But it feels, at times, a little bit like a cat that bites after being pet just a second too long. Sciel’s never felt those teeth herself, but she imagines that lover has.]
So you’re “happy just being around him” and that he’s “pretty great” but have so many harsh things to say. It’s a little… qui s'excuse s'accuse? And there’s nothing wrong with that! I’d just love to know what you enjoy about him.
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Date: 2025-11-29 02:34 am (UTC)(No, it's worse. Sophie bit him for thinking he could pet her — for imagining that perhaps he could approach. For saving her from the pound, she scratched him right on the face, and willingly sat in her cage, locking it.
Or, in plain terms, he resurrected her, she said 'ew' and willed herself back to death, because how fucking dare he? The metaphor was nicer.
He has become the cat, now. No one is blaming him.)
He called me 'Regina George', so, I think I'm well within my rights here.
(First of all.)
He makes me laugh until there's no oxygen left in the room. Anyway, what do you even like about Verso? Dick does not count.
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Date: 2025-11-29 03:19 am (UTC)[She smiles, a little wry. She still has no idea who Regina George is, but: gist taken.]
As for Verso… [She does need to think about that for a second, not because she doesn’t know or needs to dig, but because Verso is a hot topic and more than a little secretive, and there is a particular strategy to presenting him.] I like that despite everything he’s been through, he still cares about people, and finds it in himself to seek them out. I think that’s very resilient. And he’s persistent, in the best ways. Verso doesn’t really take no for an answer when he wants to help with something. He tries again and again, and doesn’t let me off the hook.
[Her gaze drifts off to the side, and her smile grows a little different, a little nostalgic.]
And he makes me laugh, too. He’s a good tease.
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Date: 2025-11-29 11:07 am (UTC)(Being with Quentin is more like a conversation, to be honest. Talking isn't their strongest point, so, they just found another language. Explaining their pitfalls to a non-telepath sounds like a headache, and thankfully, it doesn't occur to Sophie.
Quentin is audacious. He pushes her to think, challenges her, irreverent, bold, and never boring. Putting that to words is, well, weird, so she just used the thing she likes the most.
Sciel though? Has a whole list right off the bat. Not struggling with emotions must be nice.)
Do you, you know. Like him? What's up with that for you?
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Date: 2025-11-29 01:22 pm (UTC)[She gives a little shrug. She knows her affections for others can seem intense, whole-hearted. Being a chronic flirt has never helped, either. At one point in her life, she might have felt guilty about the impression she could leave, being this way, but now there doesn’t seem to be a point. This is just the here and now. As long as she’s upfront about her intentions…]
I fall a little bit in love with a lot of people. It’s nice, having that kind of companionship. But the plan is still to die someday and be with my husband.
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Date: 2025-11-29 02:58 pm (UTC)Everything is a for now thing, Sciel. Even you and I is a 'for now'. You could die tomorrow, and so could I. Hell, it's a miracle both of us are alive, isn't it? You with the time bomb of the Monolith, and me with sororicide, this whole being alive for longer than we thought we were going to be is just fucky. Anyway, my feelings for you aren't any less valid or existent because I understand it may pass.
That said. You are going to die someday! Like, guaranteed. Till then?
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Date: 2025-11-29 03:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-11-29 06:12 pm (UTC)(Why think of them in the same category, for starters?)
Man, are we messes?
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Date: 2025-11-29 06:25 pm (UTC)Probably, but it’s fine. Most people are.
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