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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 24, 2010 15:16:53 GMT -8
Michael hadn't really thought anything of wearing the sword beneath his jacket...he was so accustomed to it that he often forgot it was there. What he was not used to, on the other hand, was the way that she was looking at him. He stood there in silence, watching her warily as she began to cry. He was at a loss for that long, quiet moment, wondering what might be going through her mind. She didn't seem disgusted. Was she frightened? He wasn't sure what to think, what to do...he had never really opened up about this. His jaw quivered, brows furrowing a little....
And then he spoke. The concern in her voice, the determination, the words themselves...they were so kind, so unlike what he was used to. She was worried. About him. Genuinely.
Finding himself reeling a little in his confusion, he moved to sit on the couch once more, back still ramrod straight (and his carefully trained posture now at least partly explained by the sword strapped there - or was the sword there because his posture hid it so well?) as he bowed his head to look down at the floor. He didn't bother to hide the scars on the back of his neck that his loosened shirt and tie exposed...she had already seen, she already knew.
After a long moment of this, he looked towards her, managing a very tired little smile - less restrained, more natural. It was a nice smile, if a little sad.
"...Thank you," he murmured very softly, moving to reach forward for his teacup. His hand shook, rattling it against the table - he didn't bother to hide it, exhaustion getting to him - but then he caught himself, clearing his throat and speaking again.
"I mean to say - thank you for your kind concern...whatever you might teach me, I am...willing to learn."
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Dec 25, 2010 11:44:09 GMT -8
Smiling back at Michael, though it was a little wobbly for she was still trying to stop her tears, she picked up her own tea. Noticing Michael's shaking hands she wished there was something she could do to help, but she wasn't feeling quite steady herself at the moment. He was really trusting her wasn't he? By telling her, showing her, this. She'd never had to carry the weight of this kind of trust before, and it was, not bad, but strange. She didn't want to let him down, and unsure what to say at the moment herself she just told him quietly "You're welcome."
After sitting silently for a moment Ashlin began to brainstorm aloud, as much for Michael's benefit as for her own. "A mixture of honey and sugar is suppose to work, but that would be terribly inconvenient for you I imagine, you wash it off course but. . ." She wrinkled her nose slightly, thinking of just how much honey Micheal would need. She could imagine it would be very comfortable either. Plus you were suppose to massage it in. And that was the main problem, most of the treatments for scars she knew of were for small areas, nothing like what Michael had. "Maybe if I modify the one in the journal . . ."
Jumping up without warning Ashlin rushed over to a large book of white paper. Grabbing a nearby marker she began making notes and scribbling away, in an only semi legible script. Babbling excitedly Ashlin told him "I think I might be able to adapt the sandalwood paste into-into more of a soap or body wash or maybe even a lotion! You'd be able to use it in the shower, instead of leaving it on over night. You'd loose a bit of the potency of course but I think I might have an idea for counteracting the problem so it'd be much less than you might have. . ." trailing off into technical babble, she spoke quickly as she continued to scribble away, flipping to new pages as she needed them. "Give me two days and I should have something for you." she finished with a large smile, slightly breathless with excitement. She always got this way when inspiration hit, she'd been known to run off in the middle of a meal before, fork halfway to her mouth when an idea struck her. In another life she might have been an inventor, though it was little more than a hobby to Ashlin. No one really took her seriously enough to take anything she made seriously. "Until then make sure to eat lots of Vitamin K, and use Aloe Vera anywhere you have pain." she told him with a nod and her best attempt at a serious face.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 25, 2010 22:55:20 GMT -8
That quiet moment that had settled in disappeared as quickly has it had begun - Michael just stared in confusion as the girl jumped up, chattering excitedly and spitting out ideas left and right. He was somewhat mystified by the knowledge that she had...he was good with domestic things, yes, and being a bit of a bookworm he did know rather a lot of odds and ends...but to invent things, that was beyond him. Outside of coming up with the occasional recipe, he didn't think himself particularly creative, and those who were impressed him.
So he was impressed by Ashlin - impressed...and rather in awe that she would do all this for him. He nibbled on his sandwich as she spoke and chattered, rather caught off-guard as she suddenly turned to him with the serious nod. Swallowing, he spoke with a nod of his own.
"I believe I can manage to remember those tips...but...are you...certain you're willing to...do all of this?" He still wasn't used to the idea of someone working so hard for him - for HIS good. He didn't sound so much hesitant as he did bashful, expression a little shy.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Dec 26, 2010 0:10:29 GMT -8
Pausing in her scribbling she looked over at Michael with a blink. "Well of course I want to do this." she said as if the thought of not wanting to had never even crossed her mind. And in truth it hadn't. With a smile that was just a touch shy she added. "You're my friend, and-and well you trusted me with this," no one ever trusted her with anything, not anything important anyway. Not anything that really meant something. "I don't want to let you down." she confessed blushing slightly.
Feeling slightly awkward she added brightly (though she was still slightly flushed) "Besides, I like this sort of thing. It's well-- I like making things." She wasn't sure how to describe it. Ash had never had to explain the fascination she had with creating things you could hold in your hand before. With creating things that were real; things that weren't make believe, things she could prove weren't pretend.
But she couldn't give up her pretend, she never could.
Even when her parents and the doctors thought there was something wrong, bad, crazy['i] about her she couldn't let go. Because it was all she had to hold onto then, and they didn't understand that. They couldn't understand she needed Bo-Bo. So she started to make real things too. Things they could see, and touch. Things that weren't crazy. But she made them for herself too, because she liked to make things: pretend things, real things, crazy things, things she could touch and feel, and things that were only real in her mind.
But she couldn't explain that, not to anyone, and not to Michael, not yet at least. But maybe . . . maybe he'd be able to understand. Maybe she'd be able to trust him with her secrets too, once she figured out how to explain it outside of her head. She always seemed to have trouble with that part.
"I want to do this for you Michael." It would be a thank you, a temporary one at least, for trusting her. It would suffice till she could repay him in kind at least.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 27, 2010 0:06:58 GMT -8
'I want to do this for you Michael.'
The words hung heavy in his mind - not because they hurt, but because they felt important. Someone...really wanted to help him. Someone besides Mister Stewart really cared, really was willing to put themselves through something for his sake. He wasn't used to that, nor was he used to opening up like this...as such, he wasn't certain what to say. He sipped at his tea again, thinking, his own face flushing just a little....
"...I...thank you, I was just worried I was too forward...." He paused, suddenly feeling quite awkward indeed. He blurted out another sentence, in some sort of off-kilter effort to change the subject.
"...Also, I am sorry if the sword caught you off-guard." He seemed to realize this was lame as he said it, so he took another bite of his sandwich to delay himself from speaking again.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Dec 27, 2010 0:20:31 GMT -8
Michael's comment drew her attention back to the sword that she had somehow forgotten about it all the commotion. It was a small sword, smaller than what one imagined when they thought of a traditional sword. Blinking up at him she told him honestly "It's fine, I'd almost forgotten about it actually." He must be very skilled at sword fighting if he'd choose to carry one around for protection. There were much more convenient weapons to carry, or use even. Before she could think about it too much or stop herself she asked "Could you teach me? To use a sword I mean."
She'd always thought it was interesting, but well it wasn't something that one could really just pick up on one's own, and lessons had been out of the question when she was younger. She might have been able to convince her parents to let her weld but she didn't think she could have managed to convince them to let her have a sword. It didn't make much sense to her but she assumed it was a parent thing with social connotations she didn't understand. Either way it was a subject she found intriguing and Ash was rarely one to curb her curiosity.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 27, 2010 1:21:26 GMT -8
On the one hand, Michael welcomed the change of subject. On the other hand, yet again she surprised him - she was asking him for lessons in swordsmanship? His stormy eyes slid towards her as he thought about it. It seemed fair, really...she was teaching him something. Really, it wouldn't hurt, would it? Maybe he would feel a bit less guilty about her going to the trouble (there was nothing to be guilty about, it wasn't his fault, it wasn't) if he could contribute something in return....
"I...suppose I do not see why not," he assented softly, smiling a little sheepish smile. "...Though I myself was...rather self-taught."
On impulse, he stood, moving well away from Ashlin and reaching back with a sure motion to unsheathe the sword. It was a wakizashi - essentially a smaller katana, glistening as if he made a point of keeping it quite clean. With sudden, neat motions, he swung the blade around himself, spinning it a bit in effortless arcs around his shoulders. It was more than clear that - self-taught or otherwise - Michael was skilled with that sword, and one wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of his graces with him holding it. his movements were so precise...controlled. It looked natural for him.
Done with the little display, he stood there rather awkwardly for a moment, unsure why he had done that. He...wasn't much for being showy, as a rule, and was perhaps a little embarrassed. Lamely, he held the sword out sideways, one hand supporting the hilt and one hand supporting the blade. It certainly wasn't just a play sword...it had been sharpened rather a great deal.
"...I learned to work with a fencing foil first - perhaps that would be safer, and practice far less terse."
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Dec 27, 2010 1:44:54 GMT -8
Ashlin was surprised when Michael said he was self taught, she'd always heard that it was difficult to teach yourself something like sword fighting. When Michael began swinging the sword around himself, Ash felt her eyes widen. It was, impressive to say the least, especially considering that Michael had taught himself. Even if it was just a short display Ash was enthralled with the clean, graceful motions of it all. She was even more certain she wanted to learn, even if she could never be quite that skilled or graceful, there was some kind of magic in it.
"That was wonderful!" Ashlin said with a breathless sort of smile. Nodding at his suggestion, Ashlin agreed it would be best. She didn't want to hurt herself, or Michael, after all. "I'd like that very much, whenever you have the time of course."
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 27, 2010 3:03:36 GMT -8
A little bit bashful, he slipped the sword back behind him, fastening it into the sheath once more. He gave a little bow, moving back to sit down again. He still felt so strange, sitting there with his jacket off and his scars exposed...but slowly he was learning to be at ease, realizing that this girl really didn't mind. It was sort of...fun, really, the idea of teaching someone how to do something. He'd never really tried to do that before, and it sounded like an interesting challenge.
"I still have an old foil or two," he mused, giving a little nod, "And I'm certain I could find time to meet with you." What he didn't mention was that he was unsure where he WOULD find the time - that he was the sole servant in a very large mansion, and he had a lot of work to do and ran himself ragged to do it....
I can find something...it's really the least I can do. He resolved to himself that he would make the time somehow - nodding minutely as if affirming the thought while he chewed at his sandwich.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Dec 27, 2010 11:03:19 GMT -8
Smiling brightly at Michael's words, she clapped her hands in glee. She was going to learn to fence! How wonderful! It didn't even occur to her that part of her happiness stemmed from the fact that she'd be getting to spend more time with Michael. Of course even she had realized she would have chalked it up to the fact that he was her friend, and of course she'd want to spend time with her friend. Scribbling down a few more words, Ash nodded in satisfaction, and moved to take her seat back on the couch. Pouring herself some more tea Ashlin offered Michael a refill as well. "I can drop the scrub off when its finished if you'd like?" That would probably be best, so Michael would have to worry about going out of his way to pick it up, whenever she managed to finish it.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 28, 2010 0:02:16 GMT -8
Michael held out his teacup with a thankful nod, listening to her suggestion contemplatively. Drop it off? At...his home? He wondered, briefly, if that was really a good idea. He didn't quite want for Mister Stewart to know about all this, about how bad the pain and scars had actually gotten over time...
On the other hand, what if it was raining when she meant to get it to him?
"...That might be a helpful thing...but...er...I'm not quite sure what that would...bring." He paused for a moment, thinking of the best way to put this, running his finger around the rim of his teacup in contemplation. "...Do you...enjoy puzzles and games, Ashlin? Mister Stewart does, and...well...likes to...make people play them." Delicately as he could put it, given that just that morning he had to set up an ornate painting and chessboard riddle that saw him having to re-hang the paintings shortly thereafter.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Dec 28, 2010 0:49:20 GMT -8
"Yes, I like games." she told him slowly not quite understanding what he meant. Made people play them? How could Mr.Stewart make people play games with him? She supposed it was probably rude to refuse your host that way, so perhaps that's what Michael meant? Mr.Stewart must always ask his guests to play board games with him. Or put together puzzles! Michael did mention puzzles after all. Well that sounded lovely really, she had no idea why Michael would warn her about it. It was quite considerate of him to warn her though, she supposed some people probably didn't like puzzles. "I'm sure it will be fine." she assured him, happy with her reasoning.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 28, 2010 12:38:19 GMT -8
She was confused...then she was dismissive. Michael held back a sigh, unsure how to make himself any clearer than he had. Abandoning the effort (and hoping that she would take what would inevitably happen in stride), he gave her a tired smile, shaking his head a little bit.
"I'm sure it will be just fine, too...I just thought I'd try to warn you-" he paused briefly, clearing his throat. He had started to rasp out of exhaustion again, and he didn't like the way it sounded. A quick sip of tea and he had cleared it for the moment, continuing to speak with caution in his tone. "...Also...I'd rather not worry Mister Stewart about my condition, if you understand it...so...if you could, please don't tell him the real reason for your visit?"
Uneasy. He disliked lying, but he was trying his hardest not to scare the older man. He was fine. He would be just fine.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Dec 28, 2010 22:52:52 GMT -8
Michael seemed to be more worried about the games than Ashlin thought was probably necessary and she wondered for a moment if perhaps there was more to it, but quickly dismissed the thought. How could there be more to puzzles, and even if there were Mr.Stewart had seemed nice enough, he wouldn't do anything horrid she was sure. And if it was dangerous Michael surely wouldn't let her go, but he was, so that settled that.
The roughness of his voice worried her slightly, but he was fine after a little tea so she pushed the thought aside. For now at least. Ashlin hesitated when Michael told her he didn't want Mr.Stewart to know of this. She'd never been overly fond of lying, had never been particularly good about it either. But then she thought of her parents and how much she'd stopped telling them so they wouldn't worry about her so much. So they wouldn't need to keep sending her to doctors to try and fix her. It hurt sometimes, knowing that her parents thought there was something wrong with her, but she knew they just wanted to help even if they couldn't understand. They loved her even if they thought she was crazy, and that was enough (wasn't it?)
"I won't tell." she promised. She wouldn't force him tell Mr.Stewart, his employer (even if it seemed to her that he cared for Michael as more than an employee; he had seemed worried for Michael when he had his fall) when she couldn't even be honest with her parents. It wouldn't be fair, and it would be right.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 30, 2010 3:47:06 GMT -8
He was a bit relieved when she said that she wouldn't tell Mister Stewart - and it showed in his face, a little sigh escaping him. He was a horrible liar himself, as much as he found himself doing it day-to-day...he knew the elder man could see right through him. Even so, he found himself doing it - found himself covering, stammering, scrambling to say that he was all right, ALWAYS all right. Even on days like this where he was so tired, he hardly thought he could see straight.
Nodding in silent thanks, he finished up the last bite of his sandwich, deciding to change the subject. Taking a sip of the tea to clear the peanut butter from his mouth, he finally spoke, his tone quite light and airy. Trying to raise the mood of the room a bit. Trying to raise his own mood again.
"Thank you for the sandwich, it was really quite tasty...my breakfast was rather interrupted and my stomach was beginning to hate me." He managed another of his sad little smiles, swirling the tea around in his teacup.
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