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[takeroot]

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	» Age: 26 » Species: human » A5 Card: Open » Seeking: hobbies » Preferences: don't be weird » Interests: plants » Bio: more plants would be nice
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	CONSTANTIN D'ORSAY
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Late September Dance Date~

[silky_bearing]

[It's been over a week, a very eventful week, a week he'd very much like to forget. But he's largely out of things to do other than go back up into the mountains to collect more herbs. He's very much not prepared to go back into the wilderness. Not after what happened with Claude. Who he doesn't want to think about! SO!!

He gets in touch with Constantin eventually, bored and honestly anything is better than sitting around in his apartment just down the hall from Claude and Hilda. They'd talked about dancing, why not, right? It was something to do and at least he'd had fun with Constantin.

It takes a little bit for him to find the place they agreed to meet but before too long he slips inside the building, looking around the space curiously while he waits for Constantin to join him.]

[takeroot]

[Constantin has an interesting enough week of his own— not so dramatic that it's a relief when Lorenz contacts him, but it is a pleasant surprise. Of course he remembers the plan to go dancing, as much as "going dancing" in this place is going to an empty room and dancing alone. The bar might have been a more lively choice than the recreation center, but then... robots would be there...

So, the rec center it is. He shows up a few minutes after Lorenz, giving him a nod of greeting as he comes into the building and approaches. Hellooo—]

I had a feeling you would get here before me! [cuz he's fussier, see,] How have you been?

[silky_bearing]

Oh did you?

[Lorenz hums softly, curious about why that would be but not enough to really pursue the topic.]

Finding new reasons to despise this place every day~ [A forced, courtly smile, tone perfectly polite despite the words he says. Thank you for not suggesting going to the bar he probably wouldn't be able to take it. His poor heart.

He does sigh after a moment, letting some of the ceaseless irritation ease out of him, offering a light touch to Constantin's arm by way of greeting.]

I am, admittedly, glad to have some company that is not tied to... everything. How has this place been treating you, my friend?

[takeroot]

[That first comment gets him to laugh, patting Lorenz's hand on his arm with mostly sympathy, but just a pinch of facetiousness. He hardly knows Lorenz that well, but after their first meeting, he can only assume it's the island's... habits that are making his list of terrible things. So, like, lighten up? But he sympathizes, anyway.]

Am I your refuge in obscurity already? You flatter me.

[Earnest! Lorenz did ask him to come and dance, and that's... nice. It is a very simple, very honest nice feeling to be thought of and invited places. Hmm!]

I've been quite alright, in any case. Loitering, socializing... not exactly the spice of life, but decent!

[silky_bearing]

[Lorenz has to laugh at himself a little. Needing a refuge after so little time. He can certainly escape the more dramatic aspects of the haphazard collection of Fodlish folk here but he is not a creature meant to hide himself away from others. He thrives with attention and, however flustered he might have been, Constantin was certainly charmingly eager to offer that much at least.]

Perhaps you are. [A dismissive shrug, smile wavering on that line between genuinely shy and just a little coy.] Is that really so bad?

Especially if you are, apparently, missing the hm- ... spice of life.

[takeroot]

I did come all the way here.

[So, it's not bad at all— he could be worse things than a relief from, if Lorenz's ceaseless namedropping is any indication, a whole lot of home-based relationship intricacies Constantin has nothing to do with. He doesn't have the same luxury as so many people here- to choose between familiar faces and otherwise- but meeting new people has been a good enough time, anyway.

He pivots then and does a sort of half-spin away from Lorenz, looking around the room. It's... a serviceable empty room with a suitable hard floor for dancing and not a rubbery phallus in sight— lucky. It's all up to Lorenz to provide the spice of life (tm), and, hmm-]

Music? [Obviously, there's no live band in here, but...] Am I going to have to hum an entire waltz?

[silky_bearing]

[Clearly that just means Constantin needs to make some of the faces here more familiar. How convenient that Lorenz has offered. (And is such a pretty face to get familiar with).

Empty room, hard floor... that's really the only necessity-oh]

Oh no... I hadn't thought of... hold on...

[If these stupid bracelets can replicate voices then they should be able to replicate sounds, right? RIGHT? okay the idea of playing music is beyond him but if they can just... get it to repeat a basic four count beat it should be fine, right?]

Surely there must be a way....?

[takeroot]

[Constantin has no idea what to do with the bracelet - he can send Text Messages and look at his filthy card and nothing else, because why should he. So, hmm, what...]

Well, I could hum. I don't mind.

[He can keep a beat and handle footwork at the same time! It's not that hard! If he must, anyway.]

[silky_bearing]

[Lorenz sighs, a frustrated little huff of breath before he looks back up at Constantin.]

Perhaps I should have asked someone more knowledgeable about technology. Pity... too late now, I suppose.

[A brief apologetic look. If he'd thought of it before now he could have asked Garma, maybe? He would surely know.]

If you think you're up to the challenge, be my guest. Though if it's a waltz you have to show me I do know that one already.

[takeroot]

You aren't canceling on account of the music?

[Hmm. Gracious of him. He chuckles lightly, backing up a few steps further into the center of the room, gesturing for Lorenz to come with him. Sure, he can hum a few bars of a waltz, that's nothing—

But actually, perhaps...]

Why don't you lead, then, and I'll hum? Think carefully— I might not feel like making the offer again.

[So, come here and waltz with him, stretch. It's one less thing to focus on while providing the music himself, anyway, so he holds his hand out expectantly and waits.]

[silky_bearing]

Nonsense.

[Cancelling? Not hardly. So Lorenz follows Constantin out into the middle of the room, surprised by the offer to lead but not about to argue it. Which is made clear enough by the fact that he immediately guides the other man's hand up to his shoulder. Besides. Their heights make it a bit more natural this way, obviously.]

I'm afraid I'll be of little assistance on the music front.

[Don't let him even hum. It's not great. But he smiles, settles into the stance and murmurs a quiet count under his breath and sweeps Constantin up into the familiar and... painfully basic steps of a waltz. Nothing fancy and as fluid as his steps are there's still a measure of rigidity, even in this. It's clear his focus is on executing the steps, simple as they are, perfectly more than on the person he is actually dancing with.

No wonder no one wanted to dance with him back in his school days. Not that there's been room for any such thing since then.]

[takeroot]

Fortuitous for us both that I happen to like my music, then.

[His mental library of music has a great deal more drinking songs than formal waltz pieces in it, in fairness, but that doesn't mean it's hard to remember the melody of one. He isn't sure what he's expecting from Lorenz's leading— well, no. This is pretty close, but it's still almost jarring just how precise he is about it.

Constantin makes a face, briefly, eyebrows raised - the look of can you believe this guy? he has no one to share with but a spot on the floor before he looks up again. He bobs his head a few times in time with these world's stiffest steps before he starts to hum the much-oversimplified waltz melody, eyes closed. It's just humming and he's far from the greatest singer, anyway, but credit him this: he likes the music enough to give it flair, for humming.

....And then when the stiff steps finally get to him he hums a little faster, just to see if the need to keep tempo can snap Lorenz out of his rigidity even a little.]

[silky_bearing]

[In his defense he hasn't done this since he was a teenager. Give him a little credit? Maybe?

No, definitely not. Still Constantin shifts the tempo and Lorenz blinks down at him, clearly surprised. But... okay...? He can work with that? The faster beat forces him to loosen the tight control on their movements at least a little, not enough time for that kind of precision.

Which he can do, and does admirably... but it leaves him looking caught between embarrassed and apologetic, that familiar pink blush coming to his cheeks already. Clearly if it's not perfect he... should be apologizing for something, right?]

Do... Do you always use this pace? [Not to interrupt him or anything but this is very much not how a Fodlish waltz goes.]

audio, UN: [not available]

[vegalthon]

[It's a couple of days after Oran had tossed Constantin in the pool when he works up the nerve to message him. Or rather, when his terror over possibly having gotten the man killed outweighs his mortification for having put him in that situation to begin with.

So he figures out how to mask his identity and attempts to ping the man. If he doesn't answer, well, Oran may have a panic attack, but if he does, at least he knows he's alive.]

audio;

[takeroot]

[Well, good news: he's not dead! Better news: he even answers, after a brief period of the obligatory ye olde fumbling, as he is pinged on these devices so very rarely it still takes him a moment to be sure he's done it properly.

So there is first... only the silence after he accepts the call, before he speaks up properly:]

Oh, ha— Yes? Hello?

[vegalthon]

[Back at the hotspring, Oran hadn't heard him splutter up for air; he'd been in his own head, or rather, in the head of a gorgon, and he'd been flinging some choice words of his own as he'd stalked away.

Therefore, hearing Constantin's voice now is a relief that goes bone deep. Oran sags in his chair and sighs, but then a secondary fear grips him. He still has a bruise from the slap fight, regardless of how effective they'd been in the moment. That's the least of his worries, however. The words he'd casually hurled and Constantin's mounting anger... there really isn't a way to reconcile that, is there?

So he claps a hand over his mouth as an apology makes ready to burst from his lips, mind blanking on what, exactly to say.]

[takeroot]

[On his end, Constantin hears the sudden utterance of a sigh and then, seemingly, nothing at all. He wonders for a moment if his bracelet has stopped working - there's a shuffling noise as he turns it over in his hands, but no, it seems to still be connected, or whatever one calls it - so, what now?

He waits a polite ten seconds or so before he taps the side of the bracelet meaningfully, which has the auditory effect of tapping on a window, more or less. Helloooo??]

Are you there, mystery contact? Perhaps you meant to reach someone else, in which case I've no idea why you'd prefer to linger here listening to me any longer...

[Is this a Prank Call... he isn't even really sure what a prank call is.]

[vegalthon]

[Oran is ever so close to hanging up on the man, and in fact he's next to pressing the button, but...

An yet.]

Constantin.

[He adopts the same kind of aloof tone that he's heard better-practiced assholes use, if just to mask the deep-seated fear that won't let him speak more freely.]

Can we meet?

[This is stupid. He's being stupid. He should have hung up when he had the chance.]

[takeroot]

Oh.

[Well, so much for mystery caller. Oh, Constantin says, and that single syllable drops the temperature of this little call by a few degrees all on its own. He ought to have expected something— after all, when has anyone ever wanted to threaten him only once— but he was enjoying, mm, not thinking about it.

But, alright. He's quiet a long moment before flatly offering:]

The beach, I suppose. In about ten minutes.

[The ocean may very well be a huge body of water to throw a person in, but he figures it's harder to drown a person in low tide, so. The beach. He'll be there.]

Notif Dickery!

[vegalthon]

[After that initial 'oh', Oran had expected to be shut out. But no, Constantin is actually willing to talk.

Now the panic really sets in.

Oran has no idea how to deal with this kind of betrayal, so when he reaches the beach he is too busy stiffly sitting on a piece of driftwood, picking at a loose splinter to occupy his stupid, racing brain.]

oh nooo

[takeroot]

[At least once on his walk to the beach Constantin considers going back to his apartment and not doing this, actually. Saving himself the headache if nothing else. But no - soon enough he's there, standing some handful of yards away, arms crossed and frowning out at the sea.

He'd look very serious and stern if his frown wasn't more petulant than anything else. It's an extended moment that he stares at the waves before, finally:]

Now, you did attempt to drown me, and believe me when I say it is as shocking to me as it must be to you that I would get to that second, but I am still attempting to figure out if you've been harboring some terrible, violent resentment against me this entire time. I daresay we should start there.

[vegalthon]

[He hears Constantin's steps before he sees him, and then when he spots the man looking to sea, Oran, too, diverts his gaze.

He feels genuinely nauseous, thinking back over their fight yet again. Yet, forcing his fears down, the tiefling says only,]

Nothing I said... like that...

[the snake hair, yes, but what was going on under the dome, more importantly]

None of it was real.

[There is a faint tint of bullshit to that, considering earlier insecurities, but Oran is having a hard time choking out a full sentence, let alone an eloquent response. Is it hot out here? Just him? Freezing sweat for anyone else??]

[takeroot]

[Constantin's frown deepens-- despite himself, part of him wants to take Oran at his word - just that word, like that's enough. But a greater part of him is still angry, and an even greater part is confused, and so-

Well, so.]

How do you expect— [Mm, no.] It was fairly specific!

[vegalthon]

[And that's just it. Oran can't take what he dishes out, because his facade crumples and he droops like a wilting flower.]

It pulled things out of me. Little... seeds of things I was afraid of, or... or things it knew could hurt. And then it made up the rest to get a rise.

[Placing his face in his hands conveniently hides the way that his vision is blurring up and all the consequences thereof.]

Half those thoughts yelling, 'love me!' and the other half yelling, 'I hate you!' and... there was nothing I could do but watch!

[He swallows a lump in his throat and takes a deep breath, trying to salvage his meltdown, knowing it's an excuse, it's nothing. When he forces himself to look at Constantin again, his lips are pressed in a thin line and he's maintaining a blotchy but otherwise fairly poker-face expression.]

I considered you a very good friend and... and I'm sorry it ended that way.

[takeroot]

[Constantin stiffens, all of his discomfort tightening to a single point. Get a rise, Oran says, like whatever influence had spat that vitriol at him had only been a little bothersome and not— well, what it was. He can live with being called weak and petty and violent, or whatever, he did start a stupid slapfight, but to be accused of the rest is...

Mm. Constantin glances at him, brow furrowed and uncertain; he doesn't believe these dramatics are a front, at least, Oran has never struck him as the kind of person who would lean on crocodile tears to get out of an affront of this kind, so— he sighs and looks down at the sand, kicking at it idly.

So. Okay.]

I have not had many friendships in my life, [literally just one before coming here, but details,] and I am loath to lose yours, despite... well, despite.

[He waves a hand, like, all that.]

But your fears regarding my sincerity are not a problem I can solve, I think, and so I fear I must ask of you the terrible burden of being honest with me. I don't want to be left for dead in a forest spring again anytime soon.

[Ha ha! The fun! But here, an olive branch, or at least the general shape of one: he cannot dismiss this, out of principle and Oran's own admission that his insecurities still exist much as he might insist against them otherwise, and so some measure of reexamining this thing is in order.

He frowns out at the water again, then, mildly:]

Your other half, [or whatever you two crazy tief kids are,] told me that you told him quite the opposite manner of things you shouted at me. Did you?