dishearten | futurology ic inbox

[ she's grateful for the shift in subject (though a part of her also flares up in guilt over so eagerly accepting the wolf as a distraction), for it saves her from finding more amusement over his poor attempt at righting his hair. turning to the animal at her side, she plucks up a plate that she'd set off to the side, filled considerably with a combination of old and new meat, made wet and juicy with some leftover stew. this she sets down at he feet, crouching briefly to ruffle her hands over the wolf's soft fur. ]

Never, [ she insists, though the word is punctuated with a meaningful glance that she reserves for graham as well. neither of you are.

she gestures to the two other plates left along the counter, both of which she'd just been settling some fresh fruit into to mingle with the bread and cheese she'd cut up for breakfast. ]

Hungry?

Edited 2015-12-30 21:35 (UTC)

( see, this is why the wolf is so delighted to see her in the kitchen. he's a spoiled monster when only graham is about to look after him, but the huntsman had never made him a nice gravy to go with his breakfast. the kindness toward his closest friend earns her a smile. they're always small but some things make them a little brighter. there's little that manages to reach his absent heart like kindness toward an animal, especially the one that matters most to him.

the wolf seems ravenous, waiting only long enough for olivia to go back to her work before messily starting at his plate. wolves are not made for neat table manners. as for Graham himself, well, he hasn't felt hungry in thirty years. he can't rightly say that, though; he supposes he should eat, since it's morning. )

Yes. One of these days I ought to make you a meal.

( it seemed fair to return the favor. he may be a bachelor that is used to microwaving over actually cooking, but he does know how. and he'd like to, to return the smallest bit of her hospitality. )

Should I set the table?

[ if olivia had known he hadn't needed the meal, she might have fallen into a flustered mess of apologies... before insisting on it anyway. the routine of it, she thinks, certainly can't hurt.

still, she is blissfully ignorant at the moment, and so happily takes him up on his kind offer. ]

Please, [ she says, gesturing towards the dishes, though he's bound to know where they are by now. she's only a little more familiar with the space than he is, after all; it hasn't been that long since she's found herself in alastair's care.

..."care."

but while he busies with that, she'll go ahead and bring their food over to the table — today's breakfast are an egg for each of them, and some fried strips of bacon she'd managed to get for a fairly decent price. those, along with the fruits from the other day that she'd cut up and set in bowls should be filling enough. ]

( she is not the only one that doesn't know about his condition. in fact, only the person that knew him from before his arrival here in Chantes knows about his heartlessness. sometimes he thinks it shows, whether he wants it to or not — there's gaps in his behavior, places he can't feel or react the way he's meant to and people slowly are likely to notice those absences. there's nothing he can do about them, and perhaps it would be better to explain.

yet he holds it back, for no good reason other than not wanting to explain how he lost it. why it had been taken, the things he'd been forced to do. he's not ready to talk about that, not even with Emma, who at least knows a shadow of what his life had been before the curse. he doesn't know that he'll ever want to talk about it, which leaves his heartlessness a secret he keeps to himself.

it doesn't stop him from living, as bizarre as that sounds. he sets the table quietly, and neatly — and stop to get some water he'd collected the night before. it's a perfectly respectable breakfast, and he tugs a chair out for his companion before he sits himself. )

Have you any plans today?

( as far as his go, they're probably to go out to town for a bit. try and see if there was any word out on the Order. it isn't much of a lead but hopefully the more information they find, the more they'll know about how to help Chantes. )

( ooc; so sorry for the wait! i'd somehow lost this notification in the mess that is my inbox... feel free to handwave this with me! )

[ it isn't her business, of course. her offer to help extends as far as the other party wants it to, whether that be just the tangible things like food and shelter, or something more like an ear for listening. she doesn't ever mean to pry, but there are times her curiosity simply gets the better of her. times like today, after weeks of co-habitation. it explains why she perks up when he initiates, even if his inquiry is spurred by polite chatter. ]

Oh, I'll probably go into the trade district again. There's a vendor I've been eyeing for some time, [ she admits, as if it were some sort of exciting secret, ] and I think I'm getting close to wearing him down. If we wind up with some fruit tarts tomorrow, you'll know I succeeded! Then maybe I'll try to find an open space where I can practice my dancing... it's been a while.

[ she pokes around her plate for a few moments, letting her words settle for an acceptable amount of time before turning towards him. it's hard to hide her excitement here. ]

What about you...? What do you like to do?

( he's slow to warm to people, but that's only partly his fault. without a heart simple things such as connecting to another human being grows quite difficult. he does his best yet he knows there are places he falters. he never means to make others feel as if he prefers distance, he never does. it's just harder to show how much simple conversation means to him when his heart is absent. when he can't connect in the way he's supposed to.

still, he's trying. he appreciates what Olivia has given him and he wants to show her he appreciates it. he has to do it in little ways, yet he hopes with time they can come to understand each other better. )

What sort of place do you need? ( he's not a dancer, he's not sure he's ever danced. he doesn't know what the specifics might be. ) There's a clearing... out in the woods. If just a flat place is what you need. ( hard floors he can't quite help her with. a clear and peaceful place... well, maybe.

he's still not used to people asking about him. in Storybrooke people would politely ask about his day or if he needed a refill on his coffee but in a way there had never been any depth. perhaps no distinct intent to know him, either, just social niceties that weren't really thought about. ) Ah... we'll probably go to the woods, for a bit. The hunting is good here.

[ olivia has spent all her life traveling from region to region, crossing borders and mountains and rivers. hard floors have only ever been a luxury for her, so she brightens considerably when he makes mention of the clearing. ]

Oh... that sounds perfect. [ she smiles warmly, looking quite eager for the chance to move as she loves to again.

—but this breakfast hadn't meant to be about her, so when he speaks about himself (tentatively, uncertainly, as if he weren't used to having to answer such things, let alone think about them), she turns her attention back towards him, head canting a bit. ]

Are you a hunter, where you're from?

I'll show you whenever you like. It's a calm place, I like to go there myself.

( he can't always take quiet moments for very long, thoughts tend to creep in and he keeps better when his hands and head are busy. still if he ever does need a quiet moment, delving into nature is what does him best. if it can help her practice a skill she misses, he's happy to show it to her.

it's true that he's not used to sharing details. everyone knew everyone in Storybrooke, there was no need to ask the sheriff what he did when everyone knew without asking. he doesn't have that familiarity in Chantes and he thinks he prefers making his own name, instead of living on an assumption. )

No. Though I was a hunter a long time ago. I worked as a sheriff in the place I was before here. ( which is not at all where he's from, yet with thirty years between him and Misthaven, it's not as easy to feel a belonging to a place that he hasn't seen in so long. realizing he's spent more time talking than eating, he pecks a bit more at his breakfast, whereas the wolf has already finished and flopped down under their table like a furry rug. )

Would you care to go today? After your engagement with the shopkeep, that is. I would never stand in the way of pastry acquisition. ( he doesn't tease often and when he does it seems a little off-kilter, but at least it's obvious he's trying. )

[ he doesn't tease often, though olivia is quite aware she still has no idea what kind of person graham is, but the slight shift in his tone causes her to pause and glance up for a moment. to stare, actually, expression caught somewhere between polite curiosity and general bafflement.

when it occurs to her that he is, in fact, trying to tease her, she finds herself suddenly bubbling in laughter, soft and surprised. a hand comes up to cover her mouth in a rather demure gesture, but she seems quite delighted despite. ]

I would love that, [ she finally responds, feeling warm. as if she'd somehow managed to accomplish something grand. ] Maybe you could join me in a dance, too.

( it's fair not to quite understand his intention, all things considered. humor was not an easy mark to hit without a heart, he finds, and even without it he doesn't know he was particularly humorous. more sarcastic. there's a sense of relief that she understands what he's trying to relate, because he knows how difficult it is to read a man that can't actually properly relate how he feels.

he manages a smile in return, though it might be a little hidden as he ducks his head toward his breakfast. it does feel... nice. to start to connect to someone. it feels as if it's been a long time since he's done that. )

We'll have to see. I can't claim to be much of a dancer, I'd hate to slow you down. ( still, the idea of helping her find a place to practice her talent makes him feel good. as good as he can feel. ) Today, then.

[ she just laughs lightly, lifting a hand to wave away his concerns. ]

Don't worry about that, [ she assures him. ] I'm not that good of a dancer, anyway. [ it's a bit of a lie, but not one she's all that conscious of. as perceptive as olivia can be, she is rather woefully dense about herself and her skills. ]

But I haven't danced with a partner in some time, either... it'll just be nice to move like that again, and share that experience.

( he doesn't believe that. he's not sure that Olivia would admit to being good at anything, not even under duress. he has a feeling if it's something that matters so much to her, she could teach him a great deal. )

Then I'd be happy to.

( it's a way for them to get closer, and even though they've been roommates for a few weeks now, there are still some nerves between them. each day it'll get a little easier. it's not an ideal situation, but the fact she offered her space to him means a lot. )

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that's ok! we can handwave if you want but we can maybe wrap in the next tag or two :)

sounds good to me! C:

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