[ it'd be easier if something attacked him, really. paying blood for blood makes sense--he can measure out penance in blood way easier than he can in words and intentions, but there are no crabs, and so Wolfwood's left to flounder. he blinks as the girl gives him permission to lower his hands, and continues to not do so. ]
It's all right. I'm used to it.
[ that's what you think. he's not even holding his cross right now. back pain is for quitters. ]
... yeah, if you want me to. Lead and I'll follow.
[ he's not sure about being in an enclosed space with her right now, but if he's coming to apologize and pay his dues, it's gotta be on her terms, right? ]
[ she's relieved that he agrees, more of the tension falling from her shoulders as she turns around leading Wolfwood to the elevator leading up to Wriothesley's office. it isn't a long ride, at the very least, and the walk up the stairs just as swift. still it is far from comfortable, Furina making certain to keep a measured amount of distance from him as she leads him up into the office.
once there, however, she seems to relax just a little bit more motioning him to make himself comfortable on the cough if he so chooses. maybe she doesn't have to offer him something to drink, or even be courteous towards him but she collects a pair of cups from the nearby cupboard regardless and places them down on the coffee table in front of the couch. ]
Would you... like something to drink?
[ one of the man tea friends Wriothesley has collected stands beside the cups waiting patiently. ]
[ while wriothesley wasn't in his office when the pair arrived--he was beneath it, in the area below where his own private quarters were. Thanks to his insanely good hearing, he hears every word the pair are saying as if he's in the room with them, so he decides to get up and head upstairs as well.
He's heard a little of what happened from Furina, as well as Ragna. He supposes this sunglasses-wearing man is one of the victims who had been with Furina and the former during their 'Fishing Trip.'
Irritation clouds his throat, but the Duke is a smart, calculating man. He won't lash out unless there's a good reason, so when he makes his way up the stairs--tough-heeled boots clicking on the metal rise, purposefully, as if to announce his approach--the Duke speaks to announce his presence. ]
I'd suggest a strong blend, like a spiced chai. I also have a cinnamon black tea, mixed with silver sugar that sparkles in the light. It's quite relaxing to watch when you've got too many thoughts and not enough words.
I don't deserve your hospitality, miss. Don't waste it on me.
[ he hears the creak on the stairs but at least has the fortitude not to spin around like a struck hound when the man comes upstairs in his own damn house. he does however, turn to look at the man when he's speaking and goddamn that is a category Dante ass man if Wolfwood ever saw one.
he runs his tongue over his teeth, hands slipping into his pockets finally as he continues to, in fact, not sit on anybody's couch or take anyone's tea. ]
I don't really wanna take up more of your time than I have to. I owe you an apology and a chance to get even.
[ her gaze flicks to Wriothesley then back to Wolfwood, gently urging the tea friend to pour a couple of cups of tea regardless of the man's refusal. he may not want her hospitality but she could use a cup of tea right about now. ]
It wasn't your fault. [ without the shroud of fear she can look upon what happened more clearly. ] You frightened me, yes, but it wasn't your fault that you mistook me for someone else.
[ they all saw things that weren't really there, that weren't real. even Furina was haunted by the ghosts of people she had failed, of the lives lost due to her inability to do anything but play her part.
with the tea poured she gives the tea friend a gentle pat and sits down on the couch. ]
And I don't need a chance to get even. [ she sounds exhausted at the mere thought of that. ] You already paid more than enough for it, don't you think?
[ regardless if Wolfwood takes the tea or the offer to sit, Wriothesley will do it anyway. if only to show Wolfwood that there's nothing to worry about here--that they can sit and settle and discuss what happened and reconcile like adults, and not wild animals. Long, wolf-like tail swishing a little as he passes by Furina, picking up one of the cups poured by the tea friend as he settles. ]
Furina told me what happened. I told her she didn't go into detail, but if I have the run-down of events down right; you saw some things that wasn't actually there and reacted badly.
Anyone could have reacted like you did. You might have hurt Furina -- [ you can SEE how his grip tightens on the little teacup. But it's resilient, and doesn't crack. ] But you were the one who died when someone moved in to protect her, yes?
Seems silly to me that you came here to get 'even', when as far as I know, Death is pretty much the great equalizer.
[ you two seem like well-adjusted people who regularly talk through your problems instead of half-feral ticking timebombs. it's very strange and Wolfwood doesn't fully know what to do with it, watching Furina and Wriothesley both as best as he can behind his sunglasses. ]
It was my fault. I--yeah, I saw somebody else, but I should've known there was no way in hell that she jumped through time, space, and that weird black smoke that vacuums people up to spit them out here in order to turn up on the weird hell ship just to smirk at me.
If I'd kept my cool or gone the other direction, you would've had a lot fewer bruises, and.
[ there's that heaviness in his throat again. he keeps trying to apologize to people who won't hear him out for it because they give him too much grace, too much love to drive the nails in, and he's so used to wearing all the weight on his shoulders that he doesn't know what to do with absolution. ]
I ruined your cute dress. [ with his throat blood. ] The ship got to joyride with my face and hurt a lot of people using my man and my kid. You're lookin' at me like you're half sure I'm gonna pull something again, despite us being 'even' and back in our right mind. [ there's a dullness in his tone, and his fists clench in his pockets despite himself--everyone says it's fine, it's okay, but it's not fine and it's not okay. people don't jump at shadows when things are back to normal. ]
... I don't want things to be weird at the Vogue. Or in the city. [ once again, it probably doesn't make sense to people who are well adjusted, but please keep all hands and feet in the ride while the proto-Mad Max lunatic tries to explain. ] And I know someone else doing the work for you doesn't always make it even, or give you your feeling of 'safe' back.
So no, I don't think I paid for it. I fucked up and stuff went sideways. I think you deserve a pound of flesh for that.
[ she takes a slow, measured sip from her cup before lowering it. subconsciously leaning toward Wriothesley as he settles down beside her. all of this is easier with him beside her, she feels as though she can breathe a little easier. ]
You... [ there is no denying that part of her is terrified that if she blinks she'll see it again, the blood pooling from his throat, the apologies falling from his bloody lips as the life drained from that horrible wound. she feels almost ashamed of it and looks down at the cup in her hand. ] I'm sorry. You are right. It is difficult to look at you and not see that terrible sight, there is a part of me fears if I blink I'll be back there on that ship. But I still cannot fault you for what happened.
[ her gaze returns to Wolfwood then, mis-matched eyes determined to remain on him. ]
I do not desire things to be weird as well, but I do not think taking a 'pound of flesh' will help me get that feeling of safety back.
[ he says this with a solidity, with no doubt or wavering in his voice. he won't lie. He cleaned Childe's clock for doing less and saying more to Furina--knocking Wolfwood out for having almost broken her neck? Sure, there's a huge part of him that wants to lash out.
But he's better than that.
He isn't an irrational criminal who does indiscriminate things. He isn't a wild childe, living in the watery walls of a prison, fighting for his life. He's a free man now, in a world far from his own. Who can make choices for himself, and the choice he's making today... ]
But what would it change? I'd get my hands full of your blood for... what. It wouldn't make any of us feel safer. Or even better, about the situation. Sure, I could stand here with my ears up thinking I defended Furina's honor, but she doesn't need that from me.
I am her partner--not her keeper. She is a powerful woman on her own and has walked on her own two feet and strength for years beyond the ones I've lived. Her forgiving you for what you did is all I need to hear to decide you don't deserve to have your jaw broken for something that's already done and passed.
You came to apologise.
That's a lot more than some men would do, I think. I can count on both hands the men I've met through the years who'd coldly justify what they'd done and turn their back towards those they hate.
The compassion you show by showing your face here and offering this is a pound of flesh enough.
[ oh thank fuck, Wriothesley sees the logic in his reasoning and
refuses to punch him in the face. all of the tension winds right back into Wolfwood's shoulders as the Damp France pair both explain that yes, he is a problem, but no, they don't feel violence would solve anything and he's left where he started
the weight is still on his back and now everything's hunky-dory but Furina's still got the specter of something fearful in her odd little eyes and Wolfwood tries very, very hard not to grind his teeth and call them names, no matter how much better it would make him feel. ]
Frankly, if you wanted to break my jaw it'd be fine. I can get up from anything short of blowing my brains out or tearing out my throat.
[ he rubs his face and for a moment, he just... lets the exhaustion hit him and lets himself be the barely-outside-of-twenty-something that he is in the face of this Goddess and her Fully Established Adult Man friend. he spends so much of his day pretending to be a sixty year old man inside of a twenty year old man's body that when it catches up to him he just feels so. very tired. ]
Look. You're talkin' a gorgeous game about bygones being bygones and apologies and intentions being what matters but I don't come from a place where that's remotely true, so forgive me if I find it hard to believe--especially since you're both still lookin' at me the way you are.
[ unease for her. predatory attentiveness for him. it made for a nice matching set of emotions. ]
Your mouth is saying 'water under the bridge' and your expressions are saying you're locking the door when I leave. Where I come from, people either deal with you flat and even is even, or they hang you at some point with what you 'owe' them, and I am so. So tired of 'owing' people things.
If you can't stand the sight of me and need me to avoid you 'til the world burns down, just. Say it. If you wanna break my neck, do it. Don't just leave me with 'everything's fine' and expect me to spend the rest of my life waitin' for the catch to find me. It'll kill Vash if you can't be friendly with him because of me, and Zulius is already spinning enough plates tryin' to keep all of the lunatics that work for him pretending like they're well-adjusted.
This ain't compassion. This is settling score so the slate is clean going into tomorrow.
[ 'i am her partner' he says and she feels something warm bloom from the center of her chest, a warm that spreads through her limbs chasing off the cold fear had placed there. it helps, easing some of the tension sitting across her shoulders. ]
I won't raise my hand to you, Wolfwood. Enough blood has already been spilled and I do not wish to see you hurt anymore than you already have been. But I do not want you to go on waiting for an axe to finally drop upon your neck.
[ it's no way to live. ]
I am the God of Justice and it is no you who must pay for all that happened.
[ he sees it he recognises it, the cold and unwavering distrust, he'd seen it in his fellow prisoners in Meropide for years. He'd felt it, in how he was always cautious around those who thought they could take their own pound of flesh off of him, who felt the need to show their righteousness above others. The wardens who would punish prisoners for toe-ing lines, or just plain because they felt the need to make extra sure that the prisoners knew their place.
But Wriothesley was a man who stood to oppose all of that. He'd hated how Meropide was a lawless place that fed and bred violence and a hierarchy of violence. Where power was in strength, where you tore scars in your opponent's skin to show how going against them was how you should never be wronged.
He remembers the old warden taking all of his credits to 'Teach him a Lesson', and how it'd given him a chance to change how his little world worked. And while he would always be a man who would let his fists talk if he needed to--he was a warden who preferred to do things through action and speech before he resorted to that kind of violence anymore.
He moves to stand, that look on his face having not changed since Wolfwood arrived. And when Furina speaks of being the God of Justice, he crosses the room towards Wolfwood. Every step he takes accentuated with a clinking of chains and the heavy sound of metal as those shoes of his hit the floor solidly with each footfall. ]
You've got it mixed up entirely in your head, Mr. Wolfwood. You see, where I come from. If the Duke wants somebody dead. He needs no sort of Justification.
[ He reaches forward, and he grabs Wolfwood by the front of his jacket. His other hand curling up at his side. ]
[ And he then yanks the others' coat, pulling the other in towards himself
As that other hand moves to wrap around Wolfwood's middle, to pull him into a hug. ]
Where I come from. In my Meropide.
Just as people are allowed to give into the darkness of their own hearts and make regrettable, violent choices to settle the scores they have with others.
I believe they should also be free to seek out redemption and forgiveness, as well as new beginnings.
We've all made mistakes. We are just humans, good people with things that we cherish and fear losing. But what's most important.
Is being able to retain freedom from things such as fear and violence--to be able to choose a different path to reflect on the things we've done wrong.
That's the choice I'm making here. I'm not telling you everything's fine.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's all right. I'm used to it.
[ that's what you think. he's not even holding his cross right now. back pain is for quitters. ]
... yeah, if you want me to. Lead and I'll follow.
[ he's not sure about being in an enclosed space with her right now, but if he's coming to apologize and pay his dues, it's gotta be on her terms, right? ]
no subject
once there, however, she seems to relax just a little bit more motioning him to make himself comfortable on the cough if he so chooses. maybe she doesn't have to offer him something to drink, or even be courteous towards him but she collects a pair of cups from the nearby cupboard regardless and places them down on the coffee table in front of the couch. ]
Would you... like something to drink?
[ one of the man tea friends Wriothesley has collected stands beside the cups waiting patiently. ]
no subject
He's heard a little of what happened from Furina, as well as Ragna. He supposes this sunglasses-wearing man is one of the victims who had been with Furina and the former during their 'Fishing Trip.'
Irritation clouds his throat, but the Duke is a smart, calculating man. He won't lash out unless there's a good reason, so when he makes his way up the stairs--tough-heeled boots clicking on the metal rise, purposefully, as if to announce his approach--the Duke speaks to announce his presence. ]
I'd suggest a strong blend, like a spiced chai. I also have a cinnamon black tea, mixed with silver sugar that sparkles in the light. It's quite relaxing to watch when you've got too many thoughts and not enough words.
[ hi wolfwood this man is uh
huge ]
no subject
[ he hears the creak on the stairs but at least has the fortitude not to spin around like a struck hound when the man comes upstairs in his own damn house. he does however, turn to look at the man when he's speaking and goddamn that is a category Dante ass man if Wolfwood ever saw one.
he runs his tongue over his teeth, hands slipping into his pockets finally as he continues to, in fact, not sit on anybody's couch or take anyone's tea. ]
I don't really wanna take up more of your time than I have to. I owe you an apology and a chance to get even.
no subject
It wasn't your fault. [ without the shroud of fear she can look upon what happened more clearly. ] You frightened me, yes, but it wasn't your fault that you mistook me for someone else.
[ they all saw things that weren't really there, that weren't real. even Furina was haunted by the ghosts of people she had failed, of the lives lost due to her inability to do anything but play her part.
with the tea poured she gives the tea friend a gentle pat and sits down on the couch. ]
And I don't need a chance to get even. [ she sounds exhausted at the mere thought of that. ] You already paid more than enough for it, don't you think?
no subject
Furina told me what happened. I told her she didn't go into detail, but if I have the run-down of events down right; you saw some things that wasn't actually there and reacted badly.
Anyone could have reacted like you did. You might have hurt Furina -- [ you can SEE how his grip tightens on the little teacup. But it's resilient, and doesn't crack. ] But you were the one who died when someone moved in to protect her, yes?
Seems silly to me that you came here to get 'even', when as far as I know, Death is pretty much the great equalizer.
You paid a pretty heavy price for your misdeed.
no subject
It was my fault. I--yeah, I saw somebody else, but I should've known there was no way in hell that she jumped through time, space, and that weird black smoke that vacuums people up to spit them out here in order to turn up on the weird hell ship just to smirk at me.
If I'd kept my cool or gone the other direction, you would've had a lot fewer bruises, and.
[ there's that heaviness in his throat again. he keeps trying to apologize to people who won't hear him out for it because they give him too much grace, too much love to drive the nails in, and he's so used to wearing all the weight on his shoulders that he doesn't know what to do with absolution. ]
I ruined your cute dress. [ with his throat blood. ] The ship got to joyride with my face and hurt a lot of people using my man and my kid. You're lookin' at me like you're half sure I'm gonna pull something again, despite us being 'even' and back in our right mind. [ there's a dullness in his tone, and his fists clench in his pockets despite himself--everyone says it's fine, it's okay, but it's not fine and it's not okay. people don't jump at shadows when things are back to normal. ]
... I don't want things to be weird at the Vogue. Or in the city. [ once again, it probably doesn't make sense to people who are well adjusted, but please keep all hands and feet in the ride while the proto-Mad Max lunatic tries to explain. ] And I know someone else doing the work for you doesn't always make it even, or give you your feeling of 'safe' back.
So no, I don't think I paid for it. I fucked up and stuff went sideways. I think you deserve a pound of flesh for that.
Or at least like, a good punch to the face.
no subject
You... [ there is no denying that part of her is terrified that if she blinks she'll see it again, the blood pooling from his throat, the apologies falling from his bloody lips as the life drained from that horrible wound. she feels almost ashamed of it and looks down at the cup in her hand. ] I'm sorry. You are right. It is difficult to look at you and not see that terrible sight, there is a part of me fears if I blink I'll be back there on that ship. But I still cannot fault you for what happened.
[ her gaze returns to Wolfwood then, mis-matched eyes determined to remain on him. ]
I do not desire things to be weird as well, but I do not think taking a 'pound of flesh' will help me get that feeling of safety back.
no subject
[ he says this with a solidity, with no doubt or wavering in his voice. he won't lie. He cleaned Childe's clock for doing less and saying more to Furina--knocking Wolfwood out for having almost broken her neck? Sure, there's a huge part of him that wants to lash out.
But he's better than that.
He isn't an irrational criminal who does indiscriminate things. He isn't a wild childe, living in the watery walls of a prison, fighting for his life. He's a free man now, in a world far from his own. Who can make choices for himself, and the choice he's making today... ]
But what would it change? I'd get my hands full of your blood for... what. It wouldn't make any of us feel safer. Or even better, about the situation. Sure, I could stand here with my ears up thinking I defended Furina's honor, but she doesn't need that from me.
I am her partner--not her keeper. She is a powerful woman on her own and has walked on her own two feet and strength for years beyond the ones I've lived. Her forgiving you for what you did is all I need to hear to decide you don't deserve to have your jaw broken for something that's already done and passed.
You came to apologise.
That's a lot more than some men would do, I think.
I can count on both hands the men I've met through the years who'd coldly justify what they'd done and turn their back towards those they hate.
The compassion you show by showing your face here and offering this is a pound of flesh enough.
no subject
refuses to punch him in the face. all of the tension winds right back into Wolfwood's shoulders as the Damp France pair both explain that yes, he is a problem, but no, they don't feel violence would solve anything and he's left where he started
the weight is still on his back and now everything's hunky-dory but Furina's still got the specter of something fearful in her odd little eyes and Wolfwood tries very, very hard not to grind his teeth and call them names, no matter how much better it would make him feel. ]
Frankly, if you wanted to break my jaw it'd be fine. I can get up from anything short of blowing my brains out or tearing out my throat.
[ he rubs his face and for a moment, he just... lets the exhaustion hit him and lets himself be the barely-outside-of-twenty-something that he is in the face of this Goddess and her Fully Established Adult Man friend. he spends so much of his day pretending to be a sixty year old man inside of a twenty year old man's body that when it catches up to him he just feels so. very tired. ]
Look. You're talkin' a gorgeous game about bygones being bygones and apologies and intentions being what matters but I don't come from a place where that's remotely true, so forgive me if I find it hard to believe--especially since you're both still lookin' at me the way you are.
[ unease for her. predatory attentiveness for him. it made for a nice matching set of emotions. ]
Your mouth is saying 'water under the bridge' and your expressions are saying you're locking the door when I leave. Where I come from, people either deal with you flat and even is even, or they hang you at some point with what you 'owe' them, and I am so. So tired of 'owing' people things.
If you can't stand the sight of me and need me to avoid you 'til the world burns down, just. Say it. If you wanna break my neck, do it. Don't just leave me with 'everything's fine' and expect me to spend the rest of my life waitin' for the catch to find me. It'll kill Vash if you can't be friendly with him because of me, and Zulius is already spinning enough plates tryin' to keep all of the lunatics that work for him pretending like they're well-adjusted.
This ain't compassion. This is settling score so the slate is clean going into tomorrow.
no subject
I won't raise my hand to you, Wolfwood. Enough blood has already been spilled and I do not wish to see you hurt anymore than you already have been. But I do not want you to go on waiting for an axe to finally drop upon your neck.
[ it's no way to live. ]
I am the God of Justice and it is no you who must pay for all that happened.
1/2
he recognises it, the cold and unwavering distrust, he'd seen it in his fellow prisoners in Meropide for years. He'd felt it, in how he was always cautious around those who thought they could take their own pound of flesh off of him, who felt the need to show their righteousness above others. The wardens who would punish prisoners for toe-ing lines, or just plain because they felt the need to make extra sure that the prisoners knew their place.
But Wriothesley was a man who stood to oppose all of that. He'd hated how Meropide was a lawless place that fed and bred violence and a hierarchy of violence. Where power was in strength, where you tore scars in your opponent's skin to show how going against them was how you should never be wronged.
He remembers the old warden taking all of his credits to 'Teach him a Lesson', and how it'd given him a chance to change how his little world worked.
And while he would always be a man who would let his fists talk if he needed to--he was a warden who preferred to do things through action and speech before he resorted to that kind of violence anymore.
He moves to stand, that look on his face having not changed since Wolfwood arrived. And when Furina speaks of being the God of Justice, he crosses the room towards Wolfwood. Every step he takes accentuated with a clinking of chains and the heavy sound of metal as those shoes of his hit the floor solidly with each footfall. ]
You've got it mixed up entirely in your head, Mr. Wolfwood.
You see, where I come from.
If the Duke wants somebody dead. He needs no sort of Justification.
[ He reaches forward, and he grabs Wolfwood by the front of his jacket. His other hand curling up at his side. ]
2/2
As that other hand moves to wrap around Wolfwood's middle, to pull him into a hug. ]
Where I come from.
In my Meropide.
Just as people are allowed to give into the darkness of their own hearts and make regrettable, violent choices to settle the scores they have with others.
I believe they should also be free to seek out redemption and forgiveness, as well as new beginnings.
We've all made mistakes. We are just humans, good people with things that we cherish and fear losing. But what's most important.
Is being able to retain freedom from things such as fear and violence--to be able to choose a different path to reflect on the things we've done wrong.
That's the choice I'm making here.
I'm not telling you everything's fine.
I'm telling you I'm willing to forgive you.