[Helena had heard who the message was from, and promptly left it to be read the following day, as she was currently handling a very immediate and very French sort of problem. and when that was all smoothed over, and she realizes how many questions are in it, she has to make a decision for her own sanity.]
Some of these may be better answered in person. If you have the time, meeting with me might be better. I plan to look over the tommy bahama this afternoon, so you can find me there.
She might be waiting a while. "Afternoon" for Helena is starting at 2:00, since she'd needed appropriate time to process the entire morning, make slight progress on her poetry, have lunch, and enjoy a very slow cup of coffee. But eventually, she makes her way into the store, pausing when she feels that particular presence.
Look, you spend however long running from it, you learn to recognize it.
~Yes! Come here, come here - I'm holding out my free hand, feel my wrist, feel it! Feel it!~
Cassandra's gift is there, in pride of place; Grace has been very careful with it, especially in terms of keeping it away from water. She has absolutely no desire to watch it dissolve in the wash.
Her fingertips find Grace's wrist, and then the fabric and plastic gem creation. It's curious indeed, but it clearly makes Grace happy, and from that, it's something beautiful.
~Yes! I met the Cassandra after the gentleman Johnny named her as a woman of refinement and I believe I have made a friend! I love it! It feels so comfortable and I cannot stop staring at it -~ There's a low and happy sound from Grace's throat, as loud as she can actually be. ~The party was so unlike the parties at the Manor - everyone seemed so happy to be there, to see each other! And the lady was so good to hug! I never knew people could be so good to hug! Helena it was wonderful!~
"I'm glad it was such an experience for you. Truly, I mean it."
She beckons Grace to follow as she makes her way into the shop, tapping her way to where she remembers a rack of dresses being. Carefully, she touches the fabric of them, deciding by some minute criteria what does and does not merit further investigation. So far, nothing suits.
"It truly was different - attended because we chose to, not because we were made to, and overall about comfort in one's own skin. And Cassandra is a solid sort of friend to make, and from all I know of her, she is an intelligent and brave woman who someone would be fortunate to know. Mr. Summer did not steer you amiss in that. She must be fond of you indeed if she let you hug her. "
Oh. Did Grace overstep? She'll ask next time; surely Cassandra will clarify the matter.
She hovers near Helena, gaze up to watch for the beast from the depths. ~Yes, precisely! But I had other questions - I trust your wisdom, and it feels - there is none other I might ask without feeling like a fool.~
"...For a start, Miss Grace, it is an adjective, not a noun. A state of being."
Why couldn't she have asked someone at the event, where there were helpful sorts all around? Not Helena, whose understanding relies on Erin and what she's observed.
"Gay is, as far as I understand, being romantically inclined to one's own gender."
~Yes, but how do you know? I was never one of the women that the Barmaid dallied with, but she was fun to listen to. Nor have gentlemen ever shown such interest. I am what I am, now; perhaps I'll never be courted. So how do I tell?~
"Them courting you means very little to this question. It is a more a sense of if someone were to court you, do you have a preference as to what gender they are? There is no wrong answer to that - surely someone at the event showed you the banners and had some explanations."
Please. There's only so far she can take this conversation before passing it to someone more knowledgeable.
~I listened to the explanations given to others, yes. I know that the banner which Security flew under is not for me. But...~ She makes a frustrated, huffy sound. ~I suppose this is something I must discover myself, but I had hoped to hear something to compare to. I had thought, from the way the women gossiped, that such tales of desire are...friendly conversation?~
"They are, if you have a tale that is worth sharing."
Thankfully, she can keep her hands busy with feeling the neckline of a dress and then shaking her head when she discovers it's far too low to feel comfortable in.
"It is...more important to some, when they live their lives with such things as a certain possibility, and are not faced with certain barriers. They would have more stories, more grand and enthralling things worth being said. More experience with love."
~Hmm. If the mesmerist and her Patient were in love, then I think the Barmaid and her dalliances were not. Still...~
Her voice trails off into a stream of empty bubbles.
Then, before she loses her courage: ~I met a contemporary of the gentleman Jack. He tried to be gentle, but I could see it in his eyes. He believes Jack to be guilty of horrors beyond being a fierce competitor. Is he right, my poet? Is something terribly wrong with Jack?~
~Both, I think. And neither. Jack's words are important to me. I want to better understand what he influenced me to become...and his sincerity. There truly is no one else to ask this. If there were, I would not bring it upon you.~
Turning her head towards Grace, she keeps her face carefully neutral.
"Mr. Jack's work that he has been so proud of, Miss Grace, is murder. Tales of his deeds reached far and wide, before he was even a hunter. When he speaks of evisceration, what he means is brutal butchery of his fellow man. I know he has been courteous to you, told you much and taught you more, and I do not doubt his sincerity. But his lack of elaboration has done you a disservice all the same."
~...I see. And now those with doubts about me have heard my deep affection for him and surely think me some unholy monster. Your honesty is appreciated, my poet.~
She's tired. So tired. But Grace begins looking through clothes herself, to have something to do, and to think about.
~The tentacles boy, Shouji. He may have questions for you. I only told him part of our story, that circumstances obliged us to be foes. More felt...like it would have if I'd simply broken into your room, and slept in your bed.~
"...Thank you. Should he have questions, I'll handle them."
It should be easier, with people knowing more of her circumstances from the bridge, to accept that. It is not. It still feels like someone is looking at her in a way that she doesn't quite want them to be. Shouji is someone she barely knows. And yet he knows this now.
"I think...when it comes to Mr. Jack, you aren't obliged to completely forsake the friendship. But perhaps keeping the specifics of his work and what he did to yourself would suit better. There's nothing objectionable in 'my friend Jack, from London', after all."
~You underestimate how much I have...how did the Barmaid say it of that bucktoothed vermin...'ran my mouth'. But I will be mindful.~
A hand, light, on Helena's head. ~My poet...there is another friend I have made. I wish to ask your kindness upon him. Not your intercession but merely your great patience. He calls himself Yufei, and he is much as the Wildling, only more so. The manners of society are not upon him. I say this because I think his directness may be startling to you, but I do not think he is a thing like me.~
She twitches a little at the unexpected contact, but remains with the dresses, touching the fabric of another with a thoughtful expression.
"I will endeavor to be kind to him, if he appears around me. So far I have not encountered him, but this ship is relatively small, in our population. If you find others you wish to ask me after, of course, they are also welcome."
Though she can't predict what will happen in the course of a conversation, she can be civil, and promise that.
~Those I've met are already fond of you, my poet. To tell the truth, that frightens me. I am in your place of power, here; I could never fight them all.~
An admission of weakness. It's not what Shouji wanted Grace to say to Helena, but it's the truth all the same.
"And why does fighting them need to come into your calculations?"
She says it lightly, deliberately so, so that Grace doesn't know the jolt of icy certainty that comes into her spine. If she's to be hunted again, she wants to set more terms.
"Or is it that you're still growing into the concept of co-existence with me without violence?"
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text, next day.
Some of these may be better answered in person. If you have the time, meeting with me might be better. I plan to look over the tommy bahama this afternoon, so you can find me there.
Text
Grace is there at the entrance at 11:30 AM. She'll wait as long as she needs to; she's ecstatic that Helena agreed to see her.
action.
Look, you spend however long running from it, you learn to recognize it.
"Miss Grace?"
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Cassandra's gift is there, in pride of place; Grace has been very careful with it, especially in terms of keeping it away from water. She has absolutely no desire to watch it dissolve in the wash.
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Her fingertips find Grace's wrist, and then the fabric and plastic gem creation. It's curious indeed, but it clearly makes Grace happy, and from that, it's something beautiful.
"Is this the gift you mentioned?"
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She beckons Grace to follow as she makes her way into the shop, tapping her way to where she remembers a rack of dresses being. Carefully, she touches the fabric of them, deciding by some minute criteria what does and does not merit further investigation. So far, nothing suits.
"It truly was different - attended because we chose to, not because we were made to, and overall about comfort in one's own skin. And Cassandra is a solid sort of friend to make, and from all I know of her, she is an intelligent and brave woman who someone would be fortunate to know. Mr. Summer did not steer you amiss in that. She must be fond of you indeed if she let you hug her. "
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She hovers near Helena, gaze up to watch for the beast from the depths. ~Yes, precisely! But I had other questions - I trust your wisdom, and it feels - there is none other I might ask without feeling like a fool.~
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Which isn't a bad thing, but. There's a lot of places to start.
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Asked in COMPLETE SINCERITY.
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Why couldn't she have asked someone at the event, where there were helpful sorts all around? Not Helena, whose understanding relies on Erin and what she's observed.
"Gay is, as far as I understand, being romantically inclined to one's own gender."
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Please. There's only so far she can take this conversation before passing it to someone more knowledgeable.
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Thankfully, she can keep her hands busy with feeling the neckline of a dress and then shaking her head when she discovers it's far too low to feel comfortable in.
"It is...more important to some, when they live their lives with such things as a certain possibility, and are not faced with certain barriers. They would have more stories, more grand and enthralling things worth being said. More experience with love."
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Her voice trails off into a stream of empty bubbles.
Then, before she loses her courage: ~I met a contemporary of the gentleman Jack. He tried to be gentle, but I could see it in his eyes. He believes Jack to be guilty of horrors beyond being a fierce competitor. Is he right, my poet? Is something terribly wrong with Jack?~
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"...Do you ask because you wish to know Mr. Jack better, or are you seeking what Mr. Jack did not tell you?"
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"Mr. Jack's work that he has been so proud of, Miss Grace, is murder. Tales of his deeds reached far and wide, before he was even a hunter. When he speaks of evisceration, what he means is brutal butchery of his fellow man. I know he has been courteous to you, told you much and taught you more, and I do not doubt his sincerity. But his lack of elaboration has done you a disservice all the same."
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She's tired. So tired. But Grace begins looking through clothes herself, to have something to do, and to think about.
~The tentacles boy, Shouji. He may have questions for you. I only told him part of our story, that circumstances obliged us to be foes. More felt...like it would have if I'd simply broken into your room, and slept in your bed.~
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It should be easier, with people knowing more of her circumstances from the bridge, to accept that. It is not. It still feels like someone is looking at her in a way that she doesn't quite want them to be. Shouji is someone she barely knows. And yet he knows this now.
"I think...when it comes to Mr. Jack, you aren't obliged to completely forsake the friendship. But perhaps keeping the specifics of his work and what he did to yourself would suit better. There's nothing objectionable in 'my friend Jack, from London', after all."
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A hand, light, on Helena's head. ~My poet...there is another friend I have made. I wish to ask your kindness upon him. Not your intercession but merely your great patience. He calls himself Yufei, and he is much as the Wildling, only more so. The manners of society are not upon him. I say this because I think his directness may be startling to you, but I do not think he is a thing like me.~
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"I will endeavor to be kind to him, if he appears around me. So far I have not encountered him, but this ship is relatively small, in our population. If you find others you wish to ask me after, of course, they are also welcome."
Though she can't predict what will happen in the course of a conversation, she can be civil, and promise that.
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An admission of weakness. It's not what Shouji wanted Grace to say to Helena, but it's the truth all the same.
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She says it lightly, deliberately so, so that Grace doesn't know the jolt of icy certainty that comes into her spine. If she's to be hunted again, she wants to set more terms.
"Or is it that you're still growing into the concept of co-existence with me without violence?"
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