[ rather conveniently, she hadn't been up to very much that day. she'd woken up feeling a little heavy-limbed, but it's nothing she's sure a simmering cup of tea won't cure. (and, failing that, her own spell of healing, though doctors are very often the worst of patients.) ]
[ not long after, blade knocks on manuela's door. it's been what feels like a long time since he was last here, although in reality it was only a couple of months ago; the doors all look the same to him, but once manuela opens hers to let him inside blade is struck by how familiar it all is.
it's not a small thing, for someone like him to feel that a place is familiar. he hadn't been entirely honest about the state of his memory, that time in the punishment room—it's far worse than he expressed to her then, so for him to have a clear memory of the last time he was in a place is noteworthy. ]
—I didn't bring anything. [ he says it like a revelation. ] This is the second time I've come to see you empty-handed.
[ she greets him with a soft rustle of delicate dolman sleeves, arms slipping up to wrap around his shoulders briefly in a warm hug. (perhaps a little too warm, too literally. her skin is almost nuclear to the touch, and yet she still smiles upon him as if nothing is amiss) ]
Empty-handed? Not at all. I was promised a story, wasn't I?
[ she slips her hand into his, drawing him further into the suite so she may close the door behind him. ]
Have a seat, get comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?
[ regardless of the time of day, her mini bar is always open. ]
[ aeons bless manuela's minibar. although it's a little tough to get blade well and truly drunk, he appreciates the ritual of it, having a glass of wine and sitting on manuela's couch and talking. the last time they'd done this feels like ages ago. ]
You'll have to decide if the story is worth the alcohol, [ blade says. he says it in the same flat affect he almost always wears, but there's something at the corners of his eyes, or maybe his mouth, that suggests he means it humorously. his is not always the easiest face to read, but blade is still working on practicing emoting. ] I'll have whatever you're having.
[ and in the meantime, he does get comfortable. his outfit is considerably less dramatic than manuela's—black slacks, a black turtleneck, his long hair pulled up into a knot—and easier to slouch in, which blade does immediately. in this body it's difficult for him to relax, but he does so better here than almost anywhere else. ]
I'll start by asking how much you care to know about my past, [ blade says, rather straightforwardly. he's not one for beating around the bush, mostly for a lack of subtlety rather than any attempt at being honest. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@blade / text
I want to ask your advice, but I will need to tell you a story first.
[ the "is that okay?" is implied... big dog with bad socialization etc. ]
no subject
I do enjoy a good story. Your place or mine?
[ did it even occur to manuela that blade might have preferred to do it all through text? not really, unfortunately. ]
no subject
[ well, it's fine for his purposes but based on everything he knows about manuela he suspects she'd prefer the comfort of her own accommodations. ]
Should I come up?
no subject
[ rather conveniently, she hadn't been up to very much that day. she'd woken up feeling a little heavy-limbed, but it's nothing she's sure a simmering cup of tea won't cure. (and, failing that, her own spell of healing, though doctors are very often the worst of patients.) ]
no subject
it's not a small thing, for someone like him to feel that a place is familiar. he hadn't been entirely honest about the state of his memory, that time in the punishment room—it's far worse than he expressed to her then, so for him to have a clear memory of the last time he was in a place is noteworthy. ]
—I didn't bring anything. [ he says it like a revelation. ] This is the second time I've come to see you empty-handed.
no subject
Empty-handed? Not at all. I was promised a story, wasn't I?
[ she slips her hand into his, drawing him further into the suite so she may close the door behind him. ]
Have a seat, get comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?
[ regardless of the time of day, her mini bar is always open. ]
no subject
You'll have to decide if the story is worth the alcohol, [ blade says. he says it in the same flat affect he almost always wears, but there's something at the corners of his eyes, or maybe his mouth, that suggests he means it humorously. his is not always the easiest face to read, but blade is still working on practicing emoting. ] I'll have whatever you're having.
[ and in the meantime, he does get comfortable. his outfit is considerably less dramatic than manuela's—black slacks, a black turtleneck, his long hair pulled up into a knot—and easier to slouch in, which blade does immediately. in this body it's difficult for him to relax, but he does so better here than almost anywhere else. ]
I'll start by asking how much you care to know about my past, [ blade says, rather straightforwardly. he's not one for beating around the bush, mostly for a lack of subtlety rather than any attempt at being honest. ]