[He has to pause. Only what? Hmm. Hmmmm. He thinks this pleasantly, and that was precisely the point of the wine: pleasant thoughts, the rest of it on pause. It's terribly irresponsible of him. It's also gotten him through a few nights he'd otherwise have trouble with, over the years.
Ahh. The rest of it on pause!]
On holiday. Just a quick holiday. Back before morning. You mustn't worry!
[But then it occurs to him that he has only ever taken his holidays alone.
...]
I could invite you along.
[A tentative suggestion. He'll let the door open up if she really wishes it. All he's doing is sitting on a rug, with a cup of wine and a spread of books lying open before him. Field guides, mostly. Some maps.]
[ She's halfway done with a response telling him that he's clearly inside the room whose door is barring her way right now, which is not, she might add, a vacation - they're still within the Crystarium, after all - when the tentative invitation comes through, stopping her in her tracks. And so the next few moments are spent erasing letters, the worried expression on her face changing into something softer, perhaps a little sadder.
The years have really changed you.
With a small sigh, she pockets the strange device once more, and this time just knocks on the door directly. ]
Let me in, G'raha.
[ It's her way of telling him that yes, she will join him on whatever strange at-home vacation he has dreamed up for himself. ]
[Among his books and maps--on his holiday--the Exarch gives his own small sigh. He looks down at his spread and then shifts around some of the books, as if to rearrange them more presentably. He looks down at himself, too. Well, no helping that. While he takes his cup to his mouth with one hand, he takes his staff with the other; he lifts it up a few ilms from the floor and gives it a shake with his watery arm. That's that.
The door unseals and opens up.
Here is the Crystal Exarch; here is his wine; here is his holiday.]
Ah, [he says. He spreads his arms slightly in welcome, then pauses to put his cup back down. His spirits don't seem to be low--he's milder, even tending toward content--but when he looks again at his maps and travelers' diaries, he purses his lips.] This must look silly. [It's not a downtrodden acknowledgment, just a simple one.]
[ Y'tajha watches the door open with a small smile, although the expression quickly becomes one of confusion when she sees him amidst all the books and maps, a cup of what smells distinctly like wine in one hand and his staff in the other. He looks a little more unkempt than normal, besides.
When he speaks, she shakes her head and crosses the floor towards him, her expression softening into a smile. ]
Not silly. But... should I be concerned?
[ After all, most would not exactly consider alone time with books and wine to be a vacation. A cry for help, perhaps. But certainly not a vacation. Especially when...
She frowns as her brain pieces it together without her: the text messages, slip ups and all, requesting she stay away; the cup in his hand; the smell of wine in the air. ]
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thank you!! captcha please
[He has to pause. Only what? Hmm. Hmmmm. He thinks this pleasantly, and that was precisely the point of the wine: pleasant thoughts, the rest of it on pause. It's terribly irresponsible of him. It's also gotten him through a few nights he'd otherwise have trouble with, over the years.
Ahh. The rest of it on pause!]
On holiday. Just a quick holiday. Back before morning. You mustn't worry!
[But then it occurs to him that he has only ever taken his holidays alone.
...]
I could invite you along.
[A tentative suggestion. He'll let the door open up if she really wishes it. All he's doing is sitting on a rug, with a cup of wine and a spread of books lying open before him. Field guides, mostly. Some maps.]
no subject
The years have really changed you.
With a small sigh, she pockets the strange device once more, and this time just knocks on the door directly. ]
Let me in, G'raha.
[ It's her way of telling him that yes, she will join him on whatever strange at-home vacation he has dreamed up for himself. ]
no subject
The door unseals and opens up.
Here is the Crystal Exarch; here is his wine; here is his holiday.]
Ah, [he says. He spreads his arms slightly in welcome, then pauses to put his cup back down. His spirits don't seem to be low--he's milder, even tending toward content--but when he looks again at his maps and travelers' diaries, he purses his lips.] This must look silly. [It's not a downtrodden acknowledgment, just a simple one.]
no subject
When he speaks, she shakes her head and crosses the floor towards him, her expression softening into a smile. ]
Not silly. But... should I be concerned?
[ After all, most would not exactly consider alone time with books and wine to be a vacation. A cry for help, perhaps. But certainly not a vacation. Especially when...
She frowns as her brain pieces it together without her: the text messages, slip ups and all, requesting she stay away; the cup in his hand; the smell of wine in the air. ]
Seven hells. Are you drunk?