[ roxana is trying all her might to avoid people, but there are only so many places to go, and she refuses to hide like a coward. it's counterproductive to what she wants, but whatever.
there is no time for roxana to pivot when she sees wriothesley.
[ why is it so fucking windy, they are indoors for crying out loud.
not when wriothesley only gets half a second to reorient himself after blown around just to realize that he's no longer in the airport but in another memory. great. cool. wonderful. it is, admittedly, not a memory he understands in its entirety, but the emotions that suffuse through every inch of it are familiar: exhaustion, resentment, anger.
but he keeps his feet planted against the gruond, a sober expression affixed to his face as he watches the whole thing play out. then: ]
Miss Roxana?
[ he can at least give her the grace of composing herself first. ]
this phantom wind needs to go, trapped outside and not inside any of these terminals. this is a memory that she can at least keep her composure about despite its contents. it'd be easy to just walk away or pretend nothing happened, but she's resigned by this point. ]
[ when essek also becomes someone's boyfriend, my needs are simple
while wriothesley would love to let bygones (invasions of memory privacy) be bygones, i need to wrangle at least one sliver of meaningfulness out of roxana. he studies her a moment, then gestures. ]
I hear talking about your troubles often helps. Though you don't strike me as the type of person to enjoy much talk.
We will be contained her for the next few weeks, but usually, people start with, what are your hobbies? What's your favorite color? Not how did you get captured?
[ she smiles and keeps her voice and tone light. ]
[ you are so generous in assuming that i have even one iota of critical thinking in my body. i should have played an idiot. but he will at least let her have her rejection. ]
Not even over a cup of tea later? [ kidding. ] Well, if you do ever change your mind and are interested in talking, I'm always happy to listen.
[ tearfully comes back after memshare week is over to finally give you a memshare ]
I'll happily accept an excuse for a cup of tea. Any particular flavor you're fond of?
[ not that she gets a chance to respond, another fun and friendly gust of wind immediately swirling around them and then depositing them into.....an office, though it's dreary and dark and faintly damp. a mournful tune plays gently in the background and on the desk are assorted stacks of papers, though perhaps the certificate of dukedom award to one (1) wriothesley that lies at the forefront is the most interesting. the newly appointed duke himself stands behind his desk, frowning at something in his hand - a light blue glass ball encased in a golden frame. after another moment of contemplation, he pins it to the back of his coat and then heads out. there's not much to say about the journey itself, up a slow-moving elevator and past a silent path and then across a narrow waterway while sitting in an odd motorized trolley before he finally steps out and heads towards a grand building in the near distance.
inside, a neatly uniformed creature motions for him to follow, leading him to a door and ushering him inside into yet another office (though this one is much more brightly lit). behind the desk is a robed man (i'm not going to link neuvillette), who rises at wriothesley's entrance. his expression is polite, his bearing regal, but there's something almost akin to joy in his eyes as he steps around the desk and forward.
"Congratulations. You have found something you wish to do at last, I see." ]
[ well that sure was something. T U E S D A Y, amirite? and the see-through funhouse is something else as well. he's staring at one of the x-rays that's labeled "12% tea by weight". huh. ]
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