giftedthom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
giftedthom) wrote2006-08-08 09:22 am
giftedthom) wrote2006-08-08 09:22 am
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HOKAY, THIS IS NOT IMPOSSIBLE!
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Xas doesn't touch Thom when he comes to take him out of Milliways, when they step through the door, while they walk along the beach. He doesn't touch him when they walk through the hotel lobby, past the bellhop and the concierge, past the gift shop and the too-expensive restaurant with less than adequate wine. He doesn't even touch him in the overcrowded elevator, careful inches of space preserved between their bodies. Angels are oblivious to irritated stares, or so it appears.
Thom seems similarly oblivious, though he does shiver a bit the longer they spend in the air-conditioned hallway. Xas solemnly hands him a room key, the plastic card not warm from the angel's hand, and opens the door.
"I would have gotten separate rooms, but this was . . . provided by an acquaintance of mine, and I thought it better not to quibble."
There's something in his words, and in the slight smile on his face, that suggests 'acquaintance' is far from correct.
Thom just nods, voice light as he unpacks his things.
Xas waits in the chair, attention seemingly on the book he isn't reading.
Thom seems similarly oblivious, though he does shiver a bit the longer they spend in the air-conditioned hallway. Xas solemnly hands him a room key, the plastic card not warm from the angel's hand, and opens the door.
"I would have gotten separate rooms, but this was . . . provided by an acquaintance of mine, and I thought it better not to quibble."
There's something in his words, and in the slight smile on his face, that suggests 'acquaintance' is far from correct.
Thom just nods, voice light as he unpacks his things.
Xas waits in the chair, attention seemingly on the book he isn't reading.
They go down to dinner, Xas refusing to stop at the hotel restaurant, citing far more interesting places in town, with food that has nothing of America in it. Little of the islands, either, but Thom doesn't seem to mind.
Neither of them eat much, and Xas laughs quietly.
"Some habits are difficult to break, and I've been pretending a long time."
Neither of them eat much, and Xas laughs quietly.
"Some habits are difficult to break, and I've been pretending a long time."
The beach is another matter; Xas doesn't wear sunblock, and is more than content to spend hours wandering the beach, footprints filling up with water behind him, washed away with the tides.
"I like the feel of the water, though it's warmer than I like."
Thom makes a face, wondering if Xas prefers freezing.
"Yes." Xas smiles. "It reminds me of home. My first one, that is." This is simple truth.
"I like the feel of the water, though it's warmer than I like."
Thom makes a face, wondering if Xas prefers freezing.
"Yes." Xas smiles. "It reminds me of home. My first one, that is." This is simple truth.
There are gardens, or at least carefully arranged flowers, and Xas shows them to Thom, critiquing their care, their color choices, all with a wistful air.
Thom frowns at him, mostly ignoring the blossoms. "Are these important?"
Xas shrugs. "They were."
Thom frowns at him, mostly ignoring the blossoms. "Are these important?"
Xas shrugs. "They were."
Thom burns, and propmptly orders Xas to get sunscreen. The angel helps him put it on his back, the touch clinical and precise. When Thom turns around, eyebrow quirked as if to say well?, Xas looks oddly grateful.
The last day is primarily full of shopping, Xas investing in soft leather sandals, a few jewel-toned button-down shirts, a bit of artwork. Thom ends up with several of the most garish shirts in existence, colors clashing, patterns eye-burning, cuts deliberately elaborate.
Xas tries not to laugh, and Thom just stares at him. "What?"
"Do they sell knives?"
Xas tries not to laugh, and Thom just stares at him. "What?"
"Do they sell knives?"
BECAUSE I'M STUCK ON CAPSLOCK.
"Oh."
Thom asks, "What was home like?"
Perhaps -- this once -- he'll get a real answer.
Thom asks, "What was home like?"
Perhaps -- this once -- he'll get a real answer.
Thom smiles. Something about the expression's not very nice.
"I don't pretend. But I don't think anyone's noticed, either."
"I don't pretend. But I don't think anyone's noticed, either."
"Ah," says Thom, voice airy, annoying.
He touches a flower. "We have these at home.
"Trebond, I mean."
He touches a flower. "We have these at home.
"Trebond, I mean."
Xas considers him, eyebrows faintly raised.
He, too, is smiling, though that expression is rather more pleasant.
"It may be another of those things so many take for granted. And the dead in Milliways are remarkably lifelike. Much moreso than those I've spoken with elsewhere."
He, too, is smiling, though that expression is rather more pleasant.
"It may be another of those things so many take for granted. And the dead in Milliways are remarkably lifelike. Much moreso than those I've spoken with elsewhere."
"It was very clean, and heady, and--I suppose 'symmetrical' is oddly appropriate. Perfection incarnate, all the best of the world, flaws carefully sanded away. Purified. Which means it was never very real."
He pauses, turning out to face the waves.
"It's one thing to be confronted with the undiluted essence of a mountain, and quite another to be speak with the undiluted essence of someone you once knew."
He pauses, turning out to face the waves.
"It's one thing to be confronted with the undiluted essence of a mountain, and quite another to be speak with the undiluted essence of someone you once knew."
"I had them in Hell, too."
He huffs out a quiet laugh, fingers gently twisting away a dead blossom.
"Far darker--it's the heat, so far as I can tell. They burn."
He huffs out a quiet laugh, fingers gently twisting away a dead blossom.
"Far darker--it's the heat, so far as I can tell. They burn."
UM STOP
I THINK YOU GOT THE RELEVANT ONES STOP
OMG THEY ARE SO WEIRD FULL STOP
I THINK YOU GOT THE RELEVANT ONES STOP
OMG THEY ARE SO WEIRD FULL STOP
LYNNNNNNNNE PROTECT ME FROM THEM!!
"Are you certain you brought enough? I'd offer some of my own things, but I doubt they'd fit."
Xas is not particularly small.
Xas is not particularly small.
*FLINGS SELF IN ADVANCE OF ONCOMING ANGEL-WIZARD-FREAKSHOW*
"Elsewhere . . . ?"
He doesn't finish the question: no games.
"It's a habit I picked up in life, actually."
He doesn't finish the question: no games.
"It's a habit I picked up in life, actually."
"Heaven, of course. And Hell, too. Though I suppose the dead in Hell are excessively lifelike, in certain respects."
Xas looks at Thom, expression thoughtful.
"Why that particular habit?"
Xas looks at Thom, expression thoughtful.
"Why that particular habit?"
"So Hell is hot . . . " he says softly, observing.
Thom shrugs. "It came on naturally, with the -- disease. At first I couldn't eat. And then . . . it stopped occurring to me to try.
"I drank, though. Quite a bit, in fact."
He gives Xas a look: this isn't something he's ever told anyone. Not even Alanna.
Although presumably Roger knows.
"I drank, though. Quite a bit, in fact."
He gives Xas a look: this isn't something he's ever told anyone. Not even Alanna.
Although presumably Roger knows.
UMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!
"Is it . . . like speaking to a god?"
"True. Though the selection here is rather limited--compared to Europe, or, I believe, to Milliways."
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