merryeccentricities: (Default)
merryeccentricities ([personal profile] merryeccentricities) wrote2015-07-25 04:08 pm

After Many Things

The dream with the inventory and the surplus of penguins is familiar; that the penguins take off flying is (also familiar) not at all, and Joly blinks half-awake in some confusion. Which turns to panic because he's gone he's gone where is he, and that sets him gasping, awake completely.

As soon as he is entirely awake, the weird panic vanishes. No one is missing; Bossuet is right next to him, the cats are asleep on the furniture that they should least be sleeping on, and even the beetle is still on the ceiling where he'd flown last night before they could put him in his warren.

Joly rubs his eyes and curls up closer to Bossuet again, already starting to fall back asleep , half smiling. Maybe they'd both had a little too much last night (last week) after the fireworks, but that's all right, everything's all right, they're both here and Bossuet is missing Guignon she's gone too--

Joly frowns. He's used to fretting, but there is...nothing wrong? Maybe things are a little complicated now, but it's a complication he doesn't mind. Of course he is upset, they're all upset with the political situation being what it is,all that fighting at the barricade just to see another king--

He blinks and sits up. He hasn't thought about the barricade in weeks, really; not since the anniversary. And the barricades of 1830 haven't been on his mind in months and months, even though it just happened--

--three years ago.

Maybe he's having a stroke? Or drank something he really shouldn't have? That would be comforting, he knows how to worry about medical problems.

He's just sure he isn't having one.

"Um." he says, very quietly, to a room somehow missing everyone who should be in it.
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Sensual leaning)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-27 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hm! You mean--us us, not the, ah, the usses that were here with their, ah, daemons? I--well, I certainly feel as though I have a body. I eat, I sleep, I confess that I have an amorous disposition--but hmm, I suppose you mean, ah, was there--was there something left in Paris?"
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Default)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-28 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)
He squeezes Joly's shoulders at the little shove. "I...hm, I admit it, I have no explanation whatever. I have always assumed that there were--well, call them earthly remains if you like." Lesgle waggles a hand at the phrase: ooh, genteel. It's easier than saying he'd assumed there was enough left for a funeral. "Do you have any plans to study it?"
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Sensual leaning)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-28 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Lesgle twines their fingers together comfortably. "Well, you know I'm always a willing subject for study, happy to sit under any array of blinking lights or buzzing buzzers. --So I suppose they're back in their world now? I wonder if one could send a message in any way."
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Default)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-28 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"That's true; at the very least we can leave messages. But do you think--were we somewhere else while they were here? Or did we alter.... Hm? Oh! Oh. Yes. Yes, something like a cat..."

He sketches a curve with his hand, the line of a sleek animal with a long tail. "Silvery. And spotted."
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Sensual leaning)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-29 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Combeferre could probably name the creature from a description--but here, you're far ahead of me when it comes to these computers; is there a way to ask a computer What sort of animal is soft and silvery and spotted and very clever, with a tail? And if not, what good is a computer?"

Lesgle yawns and scratches his beard, trying to put his mind to the question of where they were if they weren't here, or who they were, or what it all meant. No conclusions present themselves in any useful way. "Mmh. You'll need someone cleverer than I to solve this, I think; but as I said, I'm always happy to sit as an object of study."

((GAH, I'm so sorry, I didn't spot the notification that you'd replied!))
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Sensual leaning)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-29 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Lesgle makes a noise of effort--enh--and gives up the attempt on getting out of bed. "It can wait; I am content to know that your computer earns its keep. I really should learn my way around those things..."
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Thinky)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-29 11:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Laigle has to angle himself to see the screen properly--and then, yes, there it is. That's Musichetta: her daemon, at least. Whose name is--is--is on the tip of his tongue. He reaches out, his fingertip nearly touching the screen. "Yes, that's right," he says, his voice a little rough.
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Thinky)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-30 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
It is enough; it isn't; this elegant little creature isn't the Musichetta that Lesgle misses, but it's a hint at how another-him felt about her, and about Joly. After taking a long look, he leans down to kiss Joly's shoulder, and then rest his head there. "Maybe we can leave a message." (Another thing that won't be enough; what can they possibly say?)
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Shrewd)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-30 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
He nuzzles Joly's shoulder silently for a little while. "No, well, you're right," he says at last. "I've never managed to say what I wanted to say, writing notes to Musichetta; never said anything useful. --Yes, I think we all did manage better, with daemons It--I remember--"

No, it's gone now. Lesgle thunks his forehead lightly on Joly's shoulder before sitting up. "Right, well. What else does this computer do?"
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Really?)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-07-31 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
Lesgle would call the frown highly effective; he raises his eyebrows at it immediately. "You are rubbing your nose," he says, "which is the sign of a sagacious mind. Will you tell me what you're thinking, my dear, with your sagacious mind?"
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (Really?)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-08-04 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Hmmm?" Slow is the last thing he'd call Joly. Laigle blinks at him. "I think I'm the one who's slow; I don't follow you?"
tire_moi_mes_bottes: (You must be joking)

[personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes 2015-08-04 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Hey, now!" Laigle studies the sheet situation for a moment, then begins prodding slowly and gently at Joly's elbow and anything else in reach. "I know you're under there, Jolllly."

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