Closed(ish) | Guarding Mr. Daisy

[lotusmesenpai]

Who: Sion, Lavi, Kanda & anyone they meet at the Summit
Where: Springhill Compound, Peace Summit
When: W6D2 - D6
Summary: Guarding Sion during the summit should be an easy warrant. Unfortunately, nothing with Sion is ever actually E A S Y.
Restrictions/Warnings: Kanda's fine command of language, as usual.

Comments

[sunderings]

Even if you should be cross with me, perhaps you will extend another invitation to spend the night, so that I might remedy my mistake?

[ Like a hawk, she circles him, and to (politely) draw attention to the fact, the little orb of light (programmable matter which glows brightly still, manipulated not by an catalyst, mechanism, or tool, but simply by Sion's will) follows along behind her as she paces (in a series of whimsy loops and aerial curls, thoroughly given to displays of acrobatics!). Almost, it is like something from a children's fairytale: a fae-creature companion to light the way in the dark, or a protector to guard her in the night. ]

I do know quite the story or two to tell as the hour draws late, and it becomes the time for tales of far-off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, and Kings in disguise...!

[ Surely something a child might enjoy, and perhaps even Alice herself who seemed wont to daydream and to turn her eyes toward a world which only she might be able to see. ]

My elder siblings shared them with me, when I was young. [ A good memory, if not a bittersweet one. Parted, again, after being newly reunited, his brother had been transferred to a remote outpost at the edge of the Quad, and his sister presumed missing (Sion dares not to think worse), vanished after the riots. But both... both would want him to stand here in the present, in attendance at the summit to give voice to all the ideas they could not. ] Oftentimes, they quelled my tears with such fleeting fancies and enchanting tales.

For you and for Gwen, I would attempt to do their retellings justice.

[digophelia]

I don't know, Mr. Astal.

[ Alice continued to walk, suddenly determined to ignore Sion and his light. Her arms firmly crossed, she started to wander through the hedges. As Alice walked, she started to go even further ahead of Sion, her dress swaying as she walked. ]

Should I? Or shall I find you on the lawn in the morning thereafter?

[ For Gwen's sake, she would. Alice lived alone and the only social interactions she had were with her lawyer, which were starting to dissolve into shouting matches between them. That was never good for a little girl so shell shocked from the epidemic and loss of her parents. Sion, at least, was bright, whereas Alice was sullen and quiet. Even now, the little girl reminded her of herself and her own loss, which brought back her own terrible memories.

But swordfights and magic...

In the evenings to get Gwen to sleep, in which Alice allows Gwen to crawl up on her lap and to hold her, despite her discomfort, Alice tells her stories of her own world. Tales about the White King and Queen of Hearts. Or stories of the gryphon and mock turtle, good stories about Wonderland before it came tainted from her madness. She would follow with drawings for Gwen, filling her head with those nonsensical, happy images. She even learned "How Doth the Little Crocodile" from Alice among other rhymes.

But this? This would actually make Alice agree with Sion. ]

Ah.

[ The horror. ]

You may if you think it helps. It would help her to hear more from you, so she knows you're not ill.

[sunderings]

And what of yourself?

[ —he asks after her, equal parts pleased and bemused to have heard the young heiress agree (not willfully contest or put up contrary airs) with him. And as he falls into step with her, allowing for a respectful distance to remain between them as they traverse the pathways between the hedge, he is glad all is just as he suspected: Alice, herself, must know of the faith to be found in stories.

(And that, perhaps, by telling her own, she might be able to grant others strength someday soon.) ]

What may I do to aid you, Miss Liddel? [ After he has given their adoptive ward reason to worry for him no longer, there is still the matter of her caretaker: Alice, who would rather wander ahead of him than stand idle and converse. Perhaps she is anxious, fraught with energy despite how clearly weary she is, and that is why she's neglected to take dinner with the rest of the representatives, choosing to take refuge in the gardens. ]

Surely, I've a favor to repay, now that you've freed me.

[ A pause, a thoughtful hum as he lifts a hand to his cheek, following the thin line of one of his 'battle-wounds'. Before resuming delegation tomorrow, he really would have to clean up, wouldn't he...? Perhaps there's a salve of some-such in the suite... ]

Or, at least, you'll allow me to properly say 'thank you'?