maskormenacelogs | things just happen so much don't they

You have not doomed anything.

[ Frankly, he’s confused by how upset she is over this, but he won’t hold it against her. He turns to look down the street- there’s a shopping area that way, isn’t there. ]

Do you want to go?

Well, yes, but not if you don't? That's, like...practically...holding you hostage. Right? [she squints. she's right? isn't she?]

[ ...

He's just. Going to gesture in a direction down the street to her, and walk that way. ]

We can find somewhere to go.

[she follows, still stressed about this, but at least not pressing the non-issue she's trying to turn into an issue. instead, she's frowning at the back of his head and shoulders, as if staring hard enough is going to divine what his actual stance on this is -- as if she'll reveal that, yes, yes this is annoying to him and yes, if it weren't for the laws of this land he'd be launching her into oncoming traffic.

that...that's just the conclusion that makes sense alright? SHE would throw herself into oncoming traffic!

silence stretching out too long will probably kill her faster, honestly, which is why she has to pipe up before too long:]

So, um. You...you know this city fairly well, then? Navigating it and all...

[ Frankly, Fortunato's both more and less stressed about this than he comes off. This is honestly a petty situation; Cecelia shouldn't be this worried about something so minor.

On the other hand, he's got no idea why she's prone to reacting this way. He feels like he's walking on eggshells, if only in a minor sense. ]

...Yes. It is easier if I know what is around- when I cannot see.

[ His communicator has to guide him, often. But he knows some things by shape more than full sight by now. ]

So that's, like...an on and off sort of thing? Just, just one day your eyes are keen, and then maybe the next day you didn't drink enough tea and it's hazy? How does that...even work? [she squints at his back as she yammers on.] Is that, that what your power here is, now? That's not really a power, is it? More like, like some adverse side-effect of transport, I'd think. Is that common? I mean, I just wound up with some of my stuff broken, but it's not like my senses have been distorted or anything--

[if he doesn't cut in, she won't stop. it be like that sometimes: a deluge of stream-of-consciousness.]

I- it-

[ Look, Fortunato's just bad at interrupting. He tries to speak multiple times, having answers to most of what she's asking, and then she just keeps going. He'd rather not be that rude to her...

But she does keep talking...

Until he notices they're near a used items store with some books in the window. He has to speak now. ]

Cecelia.

What? [she looks a bit miffed to be interrupted in her flow, but that quickly evaporates when she realizes they've stopped. like, pointedly stopped, and not because of traffic.

she blinks.]

What's--oh. [blinkblink.] Oh! We...we're here... [blushing:] Right. Sorry. Let's...just go see what we have here, then.

[and not make eye contact while scurrying inside.]

[ Don't worry, Cecelia; he's basically unable to judge anyone too harshly. He follows her in, a bit puzzled but able to tell himself this is just how she is, at this point.

He follows her inside, then glances around. It's a fairly cozy place, although it seems kind of overstuffed, in the way this kind of shop sometimes does. Not specifically what she wanted, but... ]

Is this alright? [ He asks her, trying to keep track of where she is. ]

[it takes a minute to respond, because Cecelia is a big engrossed. the smaller scale of this place just enhances the scent of old paper and binding, and the narrow aisles of books are like...like a hug from literature!

heck, she even allows a happy note in her voice when she steps over an unsorted pile on the floor, turning and smiling up at the shelves.]

Oh, look...they even bothered to paint the genres on the tops of the shelving! Oh, how charming!

[ Did it work? Has she been calmed? Frankly, it’s a surprise to see her anxiety lessen almost immediately. But it’s good, isn’t it.

Fortunato squints at the shelves. So that’s what they say... ]

...That’s nice. [ He supposes. He’s not really here for aesthetic pleasures, although now that she mentions it, this place is quite peaceful. ] I am going to sit down.

[ He might as well just wait, if he’s here with her. ]

[he could've said "I am going to turn into a toadstool mushroom" for as much as it matters: Cecelia isn't listening. sometimes it's just too easy to get lost in a good feeling, for how little she lets herself get carried away. it kind of bubbles over! this place has next to no one in it, so it's as close to her reading room back home as she's got for now, and by gods, she'll enjoy it.

she floats around from shelf to shelf, murmuring and humming quietly to herself as she picks at things, flips through other things, and just generally wanders and wonders. imagine if she somehow chanced across the only magic tome in the entire world in here! how lucky would that be? some kind of great omen. it'd do wonders for resetting her destiny's course, that's for damn sure. she's not going to hold her breath waiting for it, but it's nice to dream.

it's some time before Fortunato is even acknowledged again, and by then she's in such a good mood that she no longer recoils in dread! instead, she drifts over with a happy sigh and a content look on her face.]

This place is so much nicer...I mean, the selection is definitely less, but! But the atmosphere? That more than makes up for it, don't you think?

[ Fortunato's been looking through a biblical studies tome almost boredly as he waits; he's only picked it up because it's large text and relevant to his interests, but...these always feel like they're missing something. A consequence of his experiences, maybe.

At least Cecelia isn't bothered. ]

Yes. [ Why not. He glances out a small window...it's getting sort of late. ] Do you need to go home?

Ugh.

[instant disgust as she, too, looks outside.]

Yes...or I risk being caught up in unsavory happenings. Honestly, this place...

[she huffs, pushing a book back into place by its spine. she's not happy to leave!!!]

...Does that happen to you often?

[ Fortunato says, as he puts the book down and stands up, moving toward the door.

He thinks Cecelia's likely harmless, compared to most people he knows of here. But he can't deny she's bizarre. ]

Well, no? But...yeah? [she makes a face, following outside.] But, it's like...I don't know. I don't know what the ratios really should be in a place like this, but getting grabbed at even once should be more than enough? I think? And that's not including the ravenous mobs demanding interviews or pictures or whatever it is, which is like, ugh don't even get me started--

[she gets started anyway. Fortunato gets to hear this the entire way to their parting. i'm sure he loves it.]

things just happen so much don't they

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(we can end it with you if you would like??)

the end