[Oh, BOY, one of his favorite places in Superhell overlapping with one of his other favorite places in Superhell: the indoor beach and wherever Ryn happens to be at any given moment.
Anyway, he picks his way carefully through the sand on his way over to Ryn; it's clear he's walking better, and also, y'know. He's walking, to begin with.
As he makes his way closer, a few things become apparent: one, he's got some kind of stringed instrument strapped across his back, and two, he's carrying one of the to-go cups from the bars in his hand.]
Impressively restored, courtesy of some timely medicinal intervention. Care for some company?
[if it's thancred's? of course. he seems maybe slightly distracted, at first, but puts whatever he's thinking about out of mind as he gestures for him to come sit.]
The mandolin? Pilfered from the music store. It kept me good company, while I was laid up.
[He comes over to Ryn's side and sits down carefully, digging his to-go cup into the sand far enough that it makes a neat little cupholder before drawing the instrument around and into his lap.]
I taught Nav a few Limsan ditties. Apparently she's been harassing Harrow with them all week.
[oh, he's overheard gideon singing that thanks to mingle threads, probably-- he laughs again, quieter, and settles in more comfortably with his hands braced behind him.]
A little contemplative, maybe. Just- felt like a bit of peace and quiet after all the activity earlier.
[He's like 99% joking about that and 1% It's Insecurity Week™ about it, so. He falls silent after a minute, watching the waves, kicking his slippers aside to dig his toes comfortably into the sand.]
I'll refrain from any more song, then. Most of the ones I know are bawdy and rollicking.
[He thinks that one over a minute, casting a look askance at that to-go cup and seeming to consider.]
I can think of something, yes, but — I'm not certain you'd want it for a serenade. Or...about you at all, really. Does that change your opinion at all?
[And look at how fast he finds something far off in the distance out over the water exceptionally interesting.]
...Under normal circumstances, I would've cleared my head with a workout in the gym, but as that wasn't quite in the cards...
[It all sort of starts to add up, doesn't it. Captain Limerick from a few weeks ago, now armed with an instrument and a voice that can carry a tune in a bucket...]
[He sits there another minute, watching the waves, thinking of the upwelling of irrepressible emotions that had convinced him earlier in the week to Beek something like do you think no one's come for us because they're happier we're gone, the lingering memories of the week before, the ache of wanting things he can't have and can only abbreviate in snippets and games and whimsy —
And before he can think better of it, he snatches up the to-go cup he'd brought with him and takes a deep, profound gulp.
Refreshing and sparkling, with a lemony zing.]
I wrote it for a girl. About a girl. You've seen her — she was in that memory of mine you witnessed in days past. It's not just that I miss her. It's that for some reason, for days upon days now, I can't get her off my mind. I know precisely the jests she would laugh at if she were here to hear them and the rejoinders she would offer in return and no one here comes close to comparing to it. She's a devil for impressions — does a picture-perfect one of me, for all that she looks and sounds nothing like me. And it's not as though I've never gone long lengths of time without her or even that I've any sort of claim to her outside of our friendship but for some reason I just can't...I can't stop...
[Three guess what he just drank. And what he's drinking more of, for good measure.]
I wrote it with her in mind because she would like that. She likes to keep things, to consider them hers. And I would frankly prefer to die again before she ever heard a note of it, and I said you wouldn't want it to be about you because I know you, and once you hear it you'll think so too. You'll be glad it's not.
[there's a bit of an ache, maybe, sympathetic, at the way he speaks about her. in how he goes on about how no one here compares, how he deflects and says he has no claim outside friendship, and if rynlan would be glad it's not about him after all, then... it must be one.
he also knows very well what that particular drink must be-- he tested it earlier this week-- so he just sort of... takes this all in, quiet for a few more moments.]
You're sure that you wouldn't ever want her to hear it instead?
Very. I'm far from the prince waiting at the end of that particular fairy tale. And it's not a love song; just a thorny mess of feelings that we'd all be better off for if they remained firmly unsaid.
[And yet he starts playing his tune anyway, and it's not so much a proper rendition of an actual song so much as it is he's picking through a melody, humming in places, supplying snippets of verses in others. A work in progress, all but for the one verse that seems to have inspired the whole thing:
Oh, I could say I need you / but then you'd realize that I want you / in ways I'm desperate to disguise behind "I love you"s / and all the rest of my lies / that all I wanted was to touch your face, your hands, and gaze into your eyes.
Thanks, insecurity week.
But when he's done, he sort of gives Ryn a look, as if seeking confirmation that yes, this really isn't the sort of song you want to be the subject of, now is it.]
[a work in progress, yes, but one he listens intently to nevertheless, his eyes closed so that he can take it in-- and, perhaps, so that thancred can have that little measure of privacy. of not being so exposed, just as rynlan prefers it himself, as he plays something so personal to him.
especially with that verse, the one that's clearly the most solid. it's-- thancred is right, he wouldn't want to be the subject of it because it would mean facing that, actually, he does. it's the exact kind of gesture he would be utterly charmed by, and if he's being honest, he's still charmed by it now. at the openness of this being shared, played just for him on a quiet beach even if it was made for someone else, and he's grateful thancred can't hear the way his heartbeat quickens.
he gives ryn that look, at the end, and rynlan finally opens his eyes to glance back at him, with a sympathetic smile.]
...I understand why you wouldn't want to play it for her, but- it is beautiful, you know.
'Tis strange how that one bit just...fell into place, I suppose. It's true. We did that for a time, early on in our acquaintance — played games of romance neither of us meant, for the sake of filling one void or another. It does do the trick, in small measures.
[His brain to mouth filter really is completely gone at this point, and self-inflicted while he's at it. He wiggles his toes where they're buried in the sand, letting the grains get between them.]
They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Hard to say whether all this yearning carries much weight to begin with, or if it's just a way of coping with being dead. Not just dead, either; dead and lonely and jealous. I wouldn't wish this place on anyone but sometimes watching Nav and Harrow, and Lu Bixing and his lover — what I wouldn't do for a familiar face, myself.
...suppose I know what you mean. Haven't had anything like that since Aren, myself-- haven't wanted to. But seeing them is still-
It's good that they have each other the way they do, it really is, but I'd be lying if I said I weren't jealous of Lin and Bixing especially.
[to have someone like that even in death, to keep them close-- it stings, at times, when death separated him from his own other half and sent him somewhere he's certain aren would never be. if they had to be here at all... they're lucky for it.]
I know. And I shouldn't impose on you as much as I do. I know full well I do it, and that it's hardly fair to you.
[He sets the mandolin carefully aside at last, leaning back in the sand until he can feel the grains between strands of his hair, familiar-soft against the nape of his neck. If he pretends, he can almost imagine the stars in the Eorzean sky (Urianger's constellations, the Bole and Spear and all that, which he always pretended to never pay attention to and really did) overhead instead of just the artificial atmosphere.]
I offered you my star because I thought you were unhappy on yours. What you'd said about most of your friends really being more his than yours — I thought you were lonely, and how I could imagine a good dozen people you would get along with on Eitherys. 'Twas just because I don't like the thought of you being lonely. And because I know that's not something I can remedy on my own, other than to offer you that.
I've- tended to keep my distance, since then. Better that way. I'm used to it.
[easier that way. if he just doesn't get close to people, it won't hurt. if he has a safe amount of emotional distance from them, then they can leave or die, and it won't ruin his life again.
it is lonely. he's lonely. but... it was better not to risk that.
for several long moments, rynlan stays silent.]
...you know how much longer my lifespan is than yours.
Mm. Significantly, if your theories about my heart bear out. But surely losing me wouldn't hurt that badly...? I'd assumed you would come to like Eitherys on its own merits, whether I was there or not.
[He opens one eye, frowning. That fucking blue and yellow drink. Gods, maybe bringing that with him was hasty and stupid, but. Well, here we are.]
If we parted ways at the end of this, and you went back to your own star. Would you forget about me, to make it easier on yourself?
[he admits that quietly, with a little shake of his head.]
I thought about-- just cutting things off. Telling you we shouldn't share a bed, or keep spending time like this, I've done... a terrible job of keeping much distance, honestly. But at this point I'm a little afraid I'm not going to be able to.
I've hardly made it easy on you. I've wanted companionship, too, and you've been willing. To say nothing of the fact that you're lovely but don't see it in yourself, and I know why that is and it's not that I think I can change your mind, but you're too hard on yourself about it sometimes.
[FUCKING BLUE AND YELLOW DRINK]
I would regret losing this if you sought to end it, but I would do it if it was what you wanted. I'd be jealous, mayhap, of the ones you chose to give your time to in my place, but I would understand why. 'Tis your right to keep your own life uncomplicated.
[it's part of what makes it difficult. he's just-- he's a good person. better than ryn is, at least. reminds him entirely too much of aren.
there's another period of silence before he exhales a frustrated breath and reaches for thancred's cup, taking it and draining what's left of his drink. fair is fair.]
[Oh. Oh, dear, now this has the makings of a bad situation. One of them with no filter is a refreshing exercise in candor. Both of them at it has the makings of...well, not disaster, necessarily, but certainly something.]
...I know you don't.
[He lets that hang between them, and it's a long interval before he speaks again, much more quietly.]
I wish you didn't have to be afraid. I wish I didn't frighten you so.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Anyway, he picks his way carefully through the sand on his way over to Ryn; it's clear he's walking better, and also, y'know. He's walking, to begin with.
As he makes his way closer, a few things become apparent: one, he's got some kind of stringed instrument strapped across his back, and two, he's carrying one of the to-go cups from the bars in his hand.]
Impressively restored, courtesy of some timely medicinal intervention. Care for some company?
no subject
[if it's thancred's? of course. he seems maybe slightly distracted, at first, but puts whatever he's thinking about out of mind as he gestures for him to come sit.]
Where did you get that?
no subject
[He comes over to Ryn's side and sits down carefully, digging his to-go cup into the sand far enough that it makes a neat little cupholder before drawing the instrument around and into his lap.]
I taught Nav a few Limsan ditties. Apparently she's been harassing Harrow with them all week.
no subject
I don't know whether to say good for her, or feel bad for Harrow, honestly.
[both? can it be both. it's both.]
no subject
And I loved that girl with all my heart
But I only liked the upper part —
I did not like the tail! ♪
[Luckily, it's a simple enough melody that carrying it on vocals alone isn't difficult.]
What brings you out here this time of the evening? You seem contemplative.
no subject
A little contemplative, maybe. Just- felt like a bit of peace and quiet after all the activity earlier.
no subject
[He's like 99% joking about that and 1% It's Insecurity Week™ about it, so. He falls silent after a minute, watching the waves, kicking his slippers aside to dig his toes comfortably into the sand.]
I'll refrain from any more song, then. Most of the ones I know are bawdy and rollicking.
no subject
[as if he could ever turn down something like that-- and besides, he wants to listen. he hasn't really heard thancred sing, before.]
no subject
[He thinks that one over a minute, casting a look askance at that to-go cup and seeming to consider.]
I can think of something, yes, but — I'm not certain you'd want it for a serenade. Or...about you at all, really. Does that change your opinion at all?
no subject
[it takes a second for him to cotton on, but:]
Wait-- about me? Have you been writing?
no subject
...Under normal circumstances, I would've cleared my head with a workout in the gym, but as that wasn't quite in the cards...
[It all sort of starts to add up, doesn't it. Captain Limerick from a few weeks ago, now armed with an instrument and a voice that can carry a tune in a bucket...]
no subject
[yeah, he's putting those pieces together, watching him and looking-- a little stunned, maybe, ears flicking uncertainly.]
...just what have you been writing, then, that you think I won't like.
[he has an idea of it.]
no subject
And before he can think better of it, he snatches up the to-go cup he'd brought with him and takes a deep, profound gulp.
Refreshing and sparkling, with a lemony zing.]
I wrote it for a girl. About a girl. You've seen her — she was in that memory of mine you witnessed in days past. It's not just that I miss her. It's that for some reason, for days upon days now, I can't get her off my mind. I know precisely the jests she would laugh at if she were here to hear them and the rejoinders she would offer in return and no one here comes close to comparing to it. She's a devil for impressions — does a picture-perfect one of me, for all that she looks and sounds nothing like me. And it's not as though I've never gone long lengths of time without her or even that I've any sort of claim to her outside of our friendship but for some reason I just can't...I can't stop...
[Three guess what he just drank. And what he's drinking more of, for good measure.]
I wrote it with her in mind because she would like that. She likes to keep things, to consider them hers. And I would frankly prefer to die again before she ever heard a note of it, and I said you wouldn't want it to be about you because I know you, and once you hear it you'll think so too. You'll be glad it's not.
[He says, even as he picks up the mandolin.]
no subject
[there's a bit of an ache, maybe, sympathetic, at the way he speaks about her. in how he goes on about how no one here compares, how he deflects and says he has no claim outside friendship, and if rynlan would be glad it's not about him after all, then... it must be one.
he also knows very well what that particular drink must be-- he tested it earlier this week-- so he just sort of... takes this all in, quiet for a few more moments.]
You're sure that you wouldn't ever want her to hear it instead?
no subject
[And yet he starts playing his tune anyway, and it's not so much a proper rendition of an actual song so much as it is he's picking through a melody, humming in places, supplying snippets of verses in others. A work in progress, all but for the one verse that seems to have inspired the whole thing:
Oh, I could say I need you / but then you'd realize that I want you / in ways I'm desperate to disguise behind "I love you"s / and all the rest of my lies / that all I wanted was to touch your face, your hands, and gaze into your eyes.
Thanks, insecurity week.
But when he's done, he sort of gives Ryn a look, as if seeking confirmation that yes, this really isn't the sort of song you want to be the subject of, now is it.]
no subject
especially with that verse, the one that's clearly the most solid. it's-- thancred is right, he wouldn't want to be the subject of it because it would mean facing that, actually, he does. it's the exact kind of gesture he would be utterly charmed by, and if he's being honest, he's still charmed by it now. at the openness of this being shared, played just for him on a quiet beach even if it was made for someone else, and he's grateful thancred can't hear the way his heartbeat quickens.
he gives ryn that look, at the end, and rynlan finally opens his eyes to glance back at him, with a sympathetic smile.]
...I understand why you wouldn't want to play it for her, but- it is beautiful, you know.
no subject
[His brain to mouth filter really is completely gone at this point, and self-inflicted while he's at it. He wiggles his toes where they're buried in the sand, letting the grains get between them.]
They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Hard to say whether all this yearning carries much weight to begin with, or if it's just a way of coping with being dead. Not just dead, either; dead and lonely and jealous. I wouldn't wish this place on anyone but sometimes watching Nav and Harrow, and Lu Bixing and his lover — what I wouldn't do for a familiar face, myself.
no subject
It's good that they have each other the way they do, it really is, but I'd be lying if I said I weren't jealous of Lin and Bixing especially.
[to have someone like that even in death, to keep them close-- it stings, at times, when death separated him from his own other half and sent him somewhere he's certain aren would never be. if they had to be here at all... they're lucky for it.]
no subject
[He sets the mandolin carefully aside at last, leaning back in the sand until he can feel the grains between strands of his hair, familiar-soft against the nape of his neck. If he pretends, he can almost imagine the stars in the Eorzean sky (Urianger's constellations, the Bole and Spear and all that, which he always pretended to never pay attention to and really did) overhead instead of just the artificial atmosphere.]
I offered you my star because I thought you were unhappy on yours. What you'd said about most of your friends really being more his than yours — I thought you were lonely, and how I could imagine a good dozen people you would get along with on Eitherys. 'Twas just because I don't like the thought of you being lonely. And because I know that's not something I can remedy on my own, other than to offer you that.
no subject
[easier that way. if he just doesn't get close to people, it won't hurt. if he has a safe amount of emotional distance from them, then they can leave or die, and it won't ruin his life again.
it is lonely. he's lonely. but... it was better not to risk that.
for several long moments, rynlan stays silent.]
...you know how much longer my lifespan is than yours.
no subject
[He opens one eye, frowning. That fucking blue and yellow drink. Gods, maybe bringing that with him was hasty and stupid, but. Well, here we are.]
If we parted ways at the end of this, and you went back to your own star. Would you forget about me, to make it easier on yourself?
no subject
[he admits that quietly, with a little shake of his head.]
I thought about-- just cutting things off. Telling you we shouldn't share a bed, or keep spending time like this, I've done... a terrible job of keeping much distance, honestly. But at this point I'm a little afraid I'm not going to be able to.
no subject
[FUCKING BLUE AND YELLOW DRINK]
I would regret losing this if you sought to end it, but I would do it if it was what you wanted. I'd be jealous, mayhap, of the ones you chose to give your time to in my place, but I would understand why. 'Tis your right to keep your own life uncomplicated.
no subject
[it's part of what makes it difficult. he's just-- he's a good person. better than ryn is, at least. reminds him entirely too much of aren.
there's another period of silence before he exhales a frustrated breath and reaches for thancred's cup, taking it and draining what's left of his drink. fair is fair.]
I don't want to.
[this isn't something he wants to just-- end.]
no subject
[Oh. Oh, dear, now this has the makings of a bad situation. One of them with no filter is a refreshing exercise in candor. Both of them at it has the makings of...well, not disaster, necessarily, but certainly something.]
...I know you don't.
[He lets that hang between them, and it's a long interval before he speaks again, much more quietly.]
I wish you didn't have to be afraid. I wish I didn't frighten you so.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)