Day 58: Sun Room (Second Shift)

[poorexample]

[From here.]The room was mainly empty when Michael reached it, which was fine by him. It wasn't that he didn't feel sympathy for the other patients, but he also didn't know if it would be helpful for him to talk to them. The staff seemed to think that forming bonds amongst themselves would lead to recovery, but to him it felt more like they would

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[spandexorgtfo]

[from here]

There were quite a few people in the Sun Room - a few people that he knew, but for the most part many that he didn't, which seemed to be the way of things more recently - but that didn't stop Kratos from finding an empty couch and proceeding to take up the full length of it. No thoughts of inconvenience crossed his mind; if someone wanted to sit, they could wake him up, and he would graciously oblige them and move over. Then, he would find an equally comfortable position - if possible, of course - and resume sleeping.

It sounded like a reasonable, plausible scenario in his mind, so he settled a little further into the sofa, stretched out his long legs, laced his fingers loosely on his chest, and closed his eyes.

It was, Kratos reflected shortly before dozing off, a good thing he was S Class.

[don't take offense, Natalia]

[nobleobliged]

[ totally offended, from here ]

Forward, ever forward. Not dragged down by things of little overall consequence, such as: how long had it been since she'd been able to apply proper skin and hair treatments? Careful attention each morning, before a bathroom mirror, to ascertain that she looked presentable as best she could, had at least assured she that she didn't look an outright mess. As wonderful as it was to shower, on leaving the humid room she couldn't help but wrestle with the pang of wanting more. A thought spared for the coupons for certain services in town. No, she mustn't waste time on such (vital!) things.

As if such a thing mattered. Stopping first at the library for a book (The Little Princess, she couldn't-- help herself), then at the Bulletin Board, Natalia scanned the room for a place to sit. It would be nice to speak with someone (strangely, surely improbably, it felt as if it had been--), yet most seemed occupied, and she hadn't quite mustered the drive to push herself into an already begun conversation. And the

[spandexorgtfo]

Kratos had just managed to fall asleep when a sharp pain suddenly pierced through the haze settling on his mind. Reacting purely on instinct, he sat up abruptly, one hand grabbing his attacker roughly by the shoulder and shoving her back while the other went for the sword that was customarily at his side, just within reach; failing that, he wrested the book out of Natalia's hand and pressed the binding against her throat so that her gaze was forced to the ceiling

[nobleobliged]

As if tripping wasn't disorienting enough, the world thrown into a haphazard and embarrassing plunge into a sleeping man, just as suddenly, she was manhandled. With a squeak of protest, the already unsteady princess was seized, shoved, her book stolen, ripped from her grasp, and wielded against her as if it were a blade, pushing back her chin.

"What-" she began in an indignant, confused gasp, eyes wild and darting down toward him, "What are you- unhand-"

Then, with neither precursor nor warning, he let go. Instinct had her scrambling back (with as much dignity as she could muster), snatching up the book and hugging it to her chest as she hastily got off the couch, standing upright, fingers moving swiftly over her uniform to ensure everything was in place. Frown included. Doubtless it had been upsetting to be woken in such a disagreeable manner, but that had been quite unnecessary. It did, however, suggest the reflexes of a

[spandexorgtfo]

Kratos stopped in his tracks, wondering in the back of his mind whether it would be better to ignore the woman entirely or to actually heed her. He was familiar with her type, the type of entitled, irritatingly persistent person who did not stop until her piece had been thoroughly spoken, rehashed, and acknowledged. Usually, he could easily escape those people; however, in this confined space with nowhere else to go except back into the showers, he had no choice but to stay and deal with her

[nobleobliged]

Wise to follow the letter of the law, if not the spirit, by choosing to heed. Yet, the spirit did lack. At first appeased, if by only a margin, by his stopping and looking back, he rather ruined it by opening his mouth. To her shame, it did take her a moment to realize that he spoke with sarcasm. Not, as it might have been with Anise, due to gullibility or having a poor ear for it -- no, she was able enough to recognize this sort of dry condescension. But this man was subtle with it, his voice level, almost monotonous, such that only by attending to his telling word choice could Natalia discern his true meaning.

As consequence, what began as a smile soon shifted into a linear, discontent expression.

By the time he turned, it was all she could do not to bristle. Unintentionally mirroring his posture, her arms crossed as well (if a bit awkwardly with the book) as she glowered up at him, gaze as direct, unflinching.

"My, was that tone really necessary? I suppose you are the type who cares so little for those around you and the

[spandexorgtfo]

The words had been spoken to incite- actually, to divert attention from his embarrassment at having once again reacted in such an appalling fashion. He had left in order to escape the scene of his disgrace, hoping against hope that she would not follow and demand an explanation or an apology, because he was reluctant to give either. It was much easier to drive her off, to be patronizing and drip contempt. Her reply did sting, as any rebuke would, but it was far more bearable than the possibility of having to reveal a bit of himself, even something so insignificant and obvious as the fact that he was a soldier and that he had never stopped being a soldier

[nobleobliged]

His reply left little room for dissection; there were simply too few words. Cold speech in and of itself could not faze the princess, who had plenty of experience with a wide variety of personalities. However, for all that she could not read disdain in him now, that he continued to dismiss her was obvious. Neither unfair nor unreasonable; it would be unreasonable to expect every patient to want to engage in conversation, to be friendly and welcoming in such a place, especially after that awkward altercation.

Natalia fully intended to allow him his departure, with whatever dignity he could still muster. Yet --

yet, that curiosity. Head tilting with it, she stepped forward, only once.

"Why...? Forgive me, it may not be my place, but where do you intend to go?" It wasn't as though there were so many options. Then- she smiled, almost laughing, the mirth in her voice as she echoed- "'I have no need of it now'? Sir, it's a sofa. One I 'had no need of'; it was by accident that I fell onto it." And him.

"Do stop being so ridiculous and

[spandexorgtfo]

And there it was, that cold spike of distaste- distaste for himself, for ending up in this mess, for the girl and her words that rang well and true and yet inspired only his long-suffering pride to come alive rather than the humility that a knight ought to have.

"You may continue to contemplate my reasons, my excuses, or whatever you prefer to call them" And now there was sharper bite to his voice: this fiasco had begun messily; he might as well let it end in the same way. "but I believe my position is clear."

He couldn't go far, but Kratos was willing to settle for the other side of the room, even though she would probably follow him and continue...talking at him. They always followed, even when he insisted that he be left alone in the vaguest way he could without expressly saying the words or flat out telling them to go away, although he had certainly directed that sentiment upon Anna a few times.

...ah, of course she needed to be dragged into this as well. Inescapable as usual.

[nobleobliged]

The attempt at levity had failed. Natalia watched the man as, though still his expression yielded little, his words edged with a harsher tone. She watched, as if by looking she could discern his motivation, the reason that he persisted so adamantly in his retreat. Was his pride so terrible? Though he near-mocked the very thing she was doing, this analytical contemplation, she continued, his recognition of it and resistance all the more curious.

Natalia was not a particularly intuitive person, yet something about this man struck her as... rather sad.

His retort, succinct, thorough, and cold, kept her quiet and staring at his back as he walked away. It was true, it was, that she had and did intend to permit him his departure. For that reason, she too turned, settling into the couch with a measure of guilt, as if she actually had deliberately forced him from it. Sitting straighter than one, perhaps, ought to on a couch, she opened the selected book and began to read

[spandexorgtfo]

Kratos for his part had found that he could not simply go back to sleep; his thoughts were still obsessing over the brief exchange, ripping each word he had said to shreds, and pointing out every mistake, no matter how small. It was a truly deplorable habit, but he had been doing so for thousands of years; the habit, suffice to say, was difficult to break, even more so when he had no desire to break it