tearmeanewone | rendez-vous + APPOINTMENT POST

[That's something Gai doesn't know the answer to either. He's been fighting for more than a year himself, and from the sound of things, other people have been here for over five. It could take years more before they finally win. Speculation is useless at this point; all they can do is face each new battle as it comes and do their best to win.]

I think I'll be able to handle it. I've fought without any ammo at all before and come out the other side.

Promise me it won't come to that, though. [She clings to the back of Gai's coat, buries her face in his chest.] I can keep you on this side, I don't doubt that, but my supplies won't be as unlimited as I'm used to either. Just promise me you'll be safe when I'm not looking.

I promise.

[He holds her, rubs her back with one hand and kisses her hair. This much, at least, is a promise he knows he can keep. If there's one thing Gai has always been good at doing, it's surviving.]

Of course. But the damage was done.

[she finishes a rather pretty, broad bow and sets to pinning the rest, leaving the moral unspoken. It's a story with several morals, anyway, and Elizabeth's very nature is to fish about in ambiguity and find precisely what will serve her best.]

[Elizabeth stays still as Rosalind finishes the bow and starts pinning the rest of her hair back, frowning as she tries to figure out what this has to do with Rosalind pinning her hair back now. She might not even be around fire very much, and ever since cutting most of her hair off she wasn't in quite as much danger of setting her hair on fire as Rosalind might have been.]

[Maybe it was more of a metaphor then...]

So... you're saying that if I become too engrossed in one thing, I won't notice my hair's caught fire? So to speak?

[As Gai rubs her back, Elizabeth sways a little-- back and forth, almost as though she's trying to dance with Gai without any music.]

How much longer until we have to be there?

Quite. Unless you don't have to remember to mind it in the first place.

[On a more pragmatic note, she highly doubts that the girl has much more than the practical essentials of managing her own hair. But she hardly would have come in on this little errand just for that.]

[Really, Gai doesn't want to leave at all-- he wants to stay here with her, just like this, and for a moment he actually entertains the notion of just not going at all. But the soldier side of him quickly squashes that thought, tempting though it may be.]

I'd say we could manage a half an hour or so.

[Elizabeth draws her eyebrows together slightly again, trying to parse this latest clue. Rosalind, Elizabeth is discovering, is just as vague as her brother when he wants to be--though Elizabeth has a feeling that this moral would have come out of Robert's mouth directly instead of through the attempt to tame Elizabeth's awkward-length hair.]

[She fidgets slightly with her hands, but keeps her head still while Rosalind works.]

I'm guessing this is about Gai, then...?

[Elizabeth automatically applies the story to a wider event, and she can see herself getting into trouble because she's too focused on Gai and taking care of him. Robert must have told her, but Elizabeth had to wonder for a moment if this meant Rosalind was... concerned?]

[Again, she nods into Gai's chest, takes a deep breath and lets it out.] And we'll probably be working the whole time, won't we? You'll be off charming everyone and I'll be cheerfully medicating pained soldiers.

[Rosalind does not truly laugh. But she comes perhaps as close as Elizabeth has ever heard her, a scoffing little tch escaping just before her words.]

If I meant to speak of one thing, I would have saved both of our time and done so. Parable is the vehicle of broader ideas.

[She finishes twisting the last lock and pinning it into place, and steps back, looking over her work with an appraising eye.]

Finished.

[Fair enough... Yes, Rosalind was far more direct by nature than Robert was when he tried to raise a subject with Elizabeth. She sighed and gently touched the ribbon tied at the back of her head.] Thank you...

[Mission aside, Elizabeth had a feeling it was going to be a very rough road discovering all of the ways Robert and Rosalind were completely unalike. She shouldn't be leaving Booker alone with them, not when she was having enough difficulty assimilating to Rosalind's presence.]

I can't think of anything else that would distract me like that, though. I've always been alert during a fight before...

And while doctoring to unfamiliar people, in an unfamiliar place?

[Rosalind is perhaps twenty-four hours in this world, but the vital information may be absorbed within the course of an hour or two, and she has a few decades' advantage over Elizabeth when it comes to thinking through new situations and facing adversity. She's learned that when racing into the unknown, one cannot afford a narrow view.]

...yes, I suppose I really don't know what I'm about to run into. I don't even know very much about wings, except that they're probably the most delicate organ any of us have right now. [So really, if someone came in missing a wing what could she even do about it? Watch them die, most likely.]

Would you run into something unfamiliar if Robert were about to?

I can't imagine why I would stop now.

[It may be a slightly coy answer, but the circumstances are so different that Rosalind frankly doesn't feel she owed them perfect gravity. She's followed Robert into uncharted territory more than once, anyway, just as he has done for her.]

Not the whole time. There's usually a fair amount of downtime on these missions.

[He rubs her back in soothing circles, just tracing mindless little patterns over the fabric of her shirt.]

The best kind of mission is the one where nothing too exciting happens.

So, you're the young man I've heard about.

[During the alternate world, mentioned briefly here and there since, muttered about by DeWitt. Robert had done no obvious prying, but he kept his ears open. In matters like this, simple observation was enough.

The turquoise eyes that sweep Gai are critical. He holds different standards than Booker does, and one look won't suffice. So, for now, he reserves judgement.]

Robert Lutece.

[The least he can do is offer a proper introduction and a proper, civil, though shallow bow before extending his hand.]

Gai Tsutsugami.

[Though he doesn't bow - he's never been much for that sort of gesture despite having lived most of his life in Japan - he does take that hand and give it a firm shake. Perhaps a slightly too firm shake, though whether that was on purpose or simply his idea of a normal greeting is impossible to tell.]

I've heard about you too, from Elizabeth. I hope she hasn't been telling you anything too terrible about me.

[Though his smile is relaxed, those grey eyes are taking everything in, studying this man the same way he would an opponent. Force of habit, he would claim if called on it.]

Well, I mean, was it difficult the first time you did? [That's a better question, though Elizabeth is starting to get the impression that looking for practical advice from Rosalind has to be accomplished by asking very specific questions.]

[But, it was better than 'You'll be fine' and 'Don't worry'. Flippant reassurances did little for her nowadays.]

[Elizabeth frowns and looks up at Gai.] How many of these have you been on, anyway?

[Now he grins.]

This'll be my fifth one. I've signed up for every one that comes up, but I guess they didn't want me around for a while.

[Robert's bow is that of an Englishman of an older time, an indication of respect, even if his eyes say something entirely different. The motions, after all, bought him time in Columbia. Not sincerity.]

She's said very little, in fact. Barely anything, actually.

[What is she trying to hide about you? is the implication. Or, perhaps, it's a little more cutting than that. Is she ashamed of you?]

Fifth? [Elizabeth gapes a little.] No wonder you signed up so quickly.

[This is something Gai is familiar with, that dance of sizing someone up beneath a veneer of hospitality and casual conversation. He feels right at home, in other words. He's used to people not trusting him-- that much, at least, comes with the territory of being labeled as a terrorist.]

Has she? Can't imagine why, unless it has something to do with what she mentioned about Booker possibly threatening me with a shotgun.

[He sees what Robert is going for, and he's not going to take the bait. Let the man make whatever assumptions he wants about him. Having a reputation is probably the last thing he's concerned about, here or anywhere else.]

[His expression darkens slightly, settles into something almost resigned.]

I told you, fighting is the only thing I know. I don't like sitting around and feeling useless even without the threat of the GHQ hanging over my head.

rendez-vous + APPOINTMENT POST

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