[ CLOSED ]

[khajidont]

WHO: Jaime Reyes & Ruka
WHERE: Misc. White Tower Party
WHEN: Before Synod
WHAT: There's a happenstance meeting between Ruka and Jaime. It doesn't go particularly well.
WARNINGS: None anticipated!



[ Jaime had good reason for leaving Krakoa early. He didn't want to tell anyone about his sudden conflict of conscience with what's going on in the world - though he fears some may guess - but going back to the dreaded White Tower to meet with a couple of old friends before the Synod is an excuse that passes muster for most people, so that's precisely what he goes with. Of course, for that to hold water, he actually has to do the damn thing. Which is how he finds himself at one of White Towers plentiful parties, there to put a location tag on his social media account, put up a couple of cute pictures (#oldfriends #backtogetheranditfeelssogood) before he can do what he really wants to do.

That, and there's no place like a good party to get a hold on what people are really thinking, try to get some information out of them underneath the guise of the petty gossip that places like this thrive on. He's gotten good at this over the years anyway. He has a couple drinks, hits the dance floor with a few people (he still isn't great at dancing, but all they really ask from the boys is to wiggle around a bit), flirts with some of the girls, gets a few selfies. The usual. He doesn't find out much he didn't already know, but it's not wholly a waste either. Nothing in his demeanor gives away what he's really feeling, or the anxiety he feels at finally beginning to make a few moves, but he feels the jitters nonetheless. It's easy to hide when everyone else is sloshed too. It takes a dumb joke, a wink and a smile, a hoarsely shouted, "no, no, I gotta get a picture, come on guys!", and nobody's any the wiser.

Besides, these people don't really like him. Nobody here does. It's all for fun, for show. He doesn't expect anyone to be paying any attention to him.

After all, he didn't expect to be suddenly confronted with a lover from a past life. But that realization will come later. For now, they still have yet to meet. ]

Comments

[khajidont]

Would I?

[ It's too easy to slip into easy flirting, the stupid, meaningless way everyone does with everyone at a party, without heat or intent. It's like they don't know any other way of communicating, sometimes. Jaime knows that he can communicate better with people, better than this, but... sometimes it's just easier, isn't it? When you're playing a game like this, you don't have to be too serious. You can talk a little, laugh a little, and part without thinking about each other very much at all at the end of the day.

Of course that's not the case with someone like Ruka. He knows her. Or, rather, he knows of her. This isn't something you forget. But it's not something he intends to brag about either. ]

I'm not trying to ditch my friends. I'm mingling, [ he defends himself lightly. ] But I dunno what you mean by all that. You're the famous one here. You're the one tabloids are gonna write about slumming it.

[ He takes a small drink, then taps his chin with his finger. ]

You still haven't told me how you know me. C'mon. I'm curious.

[dragony]

Mingling, sure. [ She doesn't sound like she believes him, but it's a mild retort. Her nails click against the bar in arrhythmic taps, like punctuation without a paragraph to break apart. She doesn't know what answer to give. She's a little too inebriated for this kind of questioning, but not drunk enough for this kind of torture. There are too many easy truths that linger on her tongue that she can't put into the air.

Her focus gets pulled to the motion of his hand, and the clean line of his shaved jaw, before her gaze drifts back up to meet his. ]

... I pay attention, [ she decides, still unable to keep herself from soaking up the details of his appearance — the differences, the similarities, and trying not to think about how long it's been since her and her Jaime went even two full days without talking.

She can feel the little vibration when her drink is placed in front of her, but she still can't look away. ] And I have a good eye. And there are only so many imPorts who aren't paper-white.

[ One constant through all dimensions: the Porter is always a little bit racist. ]

Anyway, I wasn't talking about tabloids. It's not like you care about that kind of stuff anyway, right? I meant your friends at home.

[khajidont]

[ How would you know? Jaime wonders, then bites the question back. He doesn't want to seem too aggressive. Still... she seems to know an awful lot about him, or at least she thinks that she does. More than what he thinks shows up in the news, but then again, when has he paid much attention to what they say about some random C-List imPort like him on the news? ]

I think they're probably too busy with their own stuff to pay attention to the tabloids, [ he says instead. His smile still doesn't reach his eyes, but it hasn't since he got here, and it seems unlikely to ever happen. He leans against the bar, grabbing his beer by the neck of the bottle and casually tips it back to take a drink. ] They've all got important work to do.

[ Leading and dating whoever's leading, respectively, it seems. ]

Buuuuuut... you're right. I guess me not being white would stand out! [ He says with a quiet huff of laughter. It's not... disingenuous, exactly, which makes it better than anything else she's gotten out of him. ]

Say, where are all your buddies? Don't you have, like, an entourage?

[dragony]

[ There's something in the way he says dismisses it — in the too busy, the important work — that strikes her as familiar. Obviously everything about him is familiar, if slanted and held at strange angles in the dim light, but it's the kind of familiar that makes her heart ache in her chest. It's a familiar sense of upset, of hurt, like wires binding around her fingers and organs and leaving her paralyzed.

And maybe that feeling shows in her face, in the sharpness of her eye and the bend to her brow and the way her lips pinch a little at the center — she's too vulnerable and too inebriated to mask it properly, but how well does he know how to read her? How well can he read anybody?

She finally breaks his gaze, turning enough to take her drink, knocking back more in one go than she rightly should. Maybe if it hits her hard enough, she won't be able to feel how much this hurts. ]

They're off the clock, [ she says with a dismissive little wave of her empty hand, glancing out towards the rest of the party. ] We finished the mutual promotions, like, two hours ago.

Why?