AEDOLIS > The Rest of Aedolis

Word Gets Around [Pal!]

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Paladienne:
Valentine cracked a smile at Prox’s words, touched by his apology. It wasn’t often that someone who entered her domain apologized to her for something they’d caused. Not that she blamed Prox, of course. The public wanted to know everything, and it was her job to give them the ‘everything’ they needed to have. He was only one drop in the proverbial wave heading her way, and he was the first thing she could deal with. Her climb to the mountaintop of her workpile was only beginning, and here was as good a starting point as any.

“You say that now, but sooner or later, the Ravens will be back up and running again, and then you’ll be begging for some free time.” Valentine responded, her eyes locked on his. When his eyes dropped to the paper in front of her, she leaned back in her chair, her manner quite relaxed, a small smile playing on her lips. “You assume correctly.”

She tapped on the paper with one finger. “This is a list of questions the adoring public wants answered. I’ve picked the most relevant questions, which also happen to be the most abundant of those asked. This shouldn’t take too long. Minimal effort on your part.”

Valentine shifted her position in her seat, leaning forward as she picked up her pen. “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to, and please don’t feel pressured to do so. Nothing sensitive you tell me will leave this office without being thoroughly sanitized first, if it leaves at all. So, please rest assured that everything you divulge here will be safe.” Her eyes dropped from his face to the first question. “Let’s begin. You left sixty years ago, and practically dropped off the radar. What made you choose to accept your reassignment, as it were? What made you decide to come back?”

Marakai2.0:
Her smile complimented her face perfectly, he noticed, and he was putting his permanent poker face to the test by not letting on he'd noticed - the only slip he let go was a quick glance from her eyes to her lips and back again, with his gaze firmly locked on hers once again.

"Mmm....I have to say that I doubt that. My free time lately has simply been spent wandering the city, and when there are no more sights to see, I fear I will have very little to occupy myself other than work. And generally, I would prefer to not be idle." The corner of his mouth quirked up again into that barely-there smile, and he leaned forward a bit to rest his arms atop her desk. The way he sat, a veil of black hair obscured part of his face, allowing only one eye to peer at her.

But of course, that would be the first question asked, and he supposed there was no room to complain. After all, it only made sense, didn't it? It wasn't every day something like this happened, and Prox was fairly certain this situation was a unique one.

".....to be perfectly honest with you, I actually requested the reassignment. There was a...glaring personal issue between myself and the former Commander." And that in itself was a supreme understatement, but he wasn't going to go into the details about that now, unless she pushed for more answers. "Lets say, for now, that he had little care for the welfare of the Pilots under his command. As for coming back...well. The Ravens were always my family, from the time the squad was formed. As soon as I heard it was....I don't want to use the word 'safe' officially, as that implies it wasn't, but it is what it is...when I heard it was safe, I began working towards getting myself reinstated as a Squad member, and putting myself back in public view."

Once he finished talking, his eyes unnarrowed. Which was odd, as he hadn't even realized thinking of Nym had put him on edge so much. Slowly but surely he also came to realize his palms had begun to sting, and he released his clenched fists.

Had to stay calm; he didn't want to make a spectacle of himself so early in the continuance of his career.

Paladienne:
Valentine listened, her face set in a professional emotionless mask as her pen moved, making notes as Prox spoke. Most of what he said she had already inferred for herself, by doing her own research and listening to what others said when they thought no one was around to listen. Much of it she wouldn’t release, since she didn’t think she could sanitize it enough. There was some information that she could probably use, but it looked like she was going to be making up a story. She was good at that. No matter what she said, the populace seemed to buy it. It would be easy. Sprinkle a little bit of truth within the confines of a lie, and who could tell the difference?

But when she heard his change in tone, Valentine lifted her gaze from her paper to Prox himself. To see him sitting so close startled her. He had the clearest of ruby irises, set in a bed of ebony. His pale skin complimented his jet black hair in the way pearls complimented black velvet. The way that it fell over his face gave him a mysterious air, as if he was seeking to hide something while he also offered her his secrets. And he was offering her one, in accordance to the question she had asked. But this secret ran deep, ran far too close to a wound that hadn’t yet healed, if it could heal at all.

Valentine heard it in his voice, saw it in the way his body went from relaxed to rigid, as his one visible eye darkened as his thoughts went down memory lane. She watched his visible eye narrow as he spoke, his words saying one thing while his face and body said another. She knew enough to read between the lines that whatever he was remembering, it was something awful. A tightness formed in her stomach as she realized her question, innocent as it should have been, wasn’t. At least, not for him.

His hands were clenched in tight fists.

His shoulders were tense and rigid.

Valentine thought he would be grinding his teeth if he wasn’t already talking.

When he stopped, she realized that memories she hadn’t meant to bring up were still eating at him. Feelings she hadn’t meant to stir were still brewing. She wanted to reach out to him, tell him he was safe now, and absolutely nothing could hurt him now. But she didn’t. He seemed so wound up that even a gentle touch such as the one she might provide might break him into a thousand pieces. And she wasn’t sure if she would be able to put those pieces back together after they were shattered.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort. If you’d like, we can stop.”

Valentine could only imagine what he was remembering. After all, Prox had been with the Ravens since their inception, and as much as she’d seen and heard in the beginning of her tenure here, Prox had seen and heard - and likely experienced - so much more. She had never meant to cause him any pain. She’d never intended to dredge up something awful. She didn’t want to hurt him, even inadvertently. She put her pen down and pushed the paper aside, a clear sign that she was going to ignore those questions in favor of Prox himself. “Would you like something to drink?”

Marakai2.0:
After a moment, the old Raven had sufficiently calmed himself enough to answer. While she spoke, he found himself determined to hang onto her every word, her soft voice and the cadence of her speech an odd sort of anodyne for his stress. By the time she had finished speaking, he was completely calm again.

But....why? Anger like that would typically mean an hour or more of constant meditation to push away, to bottle inside, to pretend it didn't exist and had never existed. But for some reason, her words seemed to calm him more than anything he'd tried before. Was it the calm care with which she spoke? The tinge of regret in her voice? He did not know.

....but he liked it.

He glanced down as she swept the paper to one side, eliminating it as if it were a barrier between them. Work was on hold for the moment, it seemed, and Prox found himself embarrassed to be relieved by that. This was something he would have to get through, one way or the other, no matter his conflictions, no matter his condition. He couldn't, wouldn't let the trauma inflicted upon him get in the way of his job. It was enough it plagued his life and free time, but it couldn't impede him now. He wouldn't let it.

Almost on instinct, he shot a hand out to grasp hers, still settled upon that paper. There was work to be done, and be done it must be. However.....

"Perhaps....a break. I apologize, but the past is....painful, I suppose would be the correct word. So, a brief break, enough time for a drink, and we can continue. Have you anything on hand, or.....?"

He blinked, then, and looked down at their hands for a moment before lifting his away. He hadn't meant to make contact, but he simply wanted to get this ordeal out of the way. Get the work done, and be able to stop thinking about the past. Hopefully, the other questions wouldn't be quite as painful.

But that contact....

You need to get a hold of your composure, right this minute. This isn't you. Focus, Prox.

That thought came unbidden, and for a moment, he almost thought Sanguinar had nosed his way in for an adjustment. Quickly he realized that internal voice was his own.

Though....what would it hurt, really?

Paladienne:
She watched as the emotions in his face faded as quickly as they had appeared. She couldn’t tell if he’d simply worked through his feelings that quickly or if he’d just pushed aside what was making him angry and hurt, if he’d stuffed it somewhere into the deep recesses of his mind to be dealt with later, if it would be dealt with at all.

She didn’t know. Couldn’t know, not without asking him directly.

And damn her if she wasn’t the least bit curious because of that reaction, for who better to get the truth from than the person who’d actually lived it? She had heard stories and rumors and other things since she’d started here, but she’d never taken them seriously. She’d never expected any of those stories and rumors to have a grain of truth to them. But she had never asked for confirmation, and based upon his reaction to just this particular question, she would never ask him directly. Something that private was meant to remain private. Still, she felt terrible for being the one dragging out all the pain and misery he’d once had to endure and reminding him of it, all for the sake of the adoring public.

Then his hand came down on hers as he spoke, stopping her from brushing aside the paper, and held it for a brief heartbeat.

Valentine was shocked that he would reach out and touch her the way he had. The movement had been so quick and so natural that she hadn’t noticed it until he’d removed his hand, leaving her cold where the warmth of his skin had sunk into hers. She didn’t know how to respond for a moment, looking from her lonely hand back to Prox and back to her hand again. Judging by his expression, he clearly hadn’t meant to touch her, hadn’t meant to grab her like that. His quick release of her hand was proof.

It was just a reaction to my own movement, Valentine decided at last. Probably didn’t want me making any sudden moves, what with him being wound up like he is.

She almost believed herself, too. 

But she pushed that thought and the confusion his touch had borne in her out of her mind, instead focusing on the man, and trying to subtlety discover what it was he needed. The interview and work could wait. It wasn’t like she was on any kind of deadline, after all, and it would be there waiting, no matter how long she took.

“I don’t have anything here, but there’s a small break room just down the hall that has a few refreshments.” Valentine studied his face for a while, uncertain, then ventured, “Unless you’d prefer a walk? There’s always the option for lunch, as well, if you’d enjoy that instead. My treat.”

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