How ominous. You've certainly mounted the tension.
[Though the setup is still lighthearted, Cantarella's body language becomes more serious, and she leans forward. Requests that have to be so introduced are often heavy ones. Maybe he can suspect she's carried such heavy things before.]
As long as my cooperation can be held until I've heard it. I do have a tendency to seek my own way of doing things.
[He exhales slowly, as though gathering his thoughts, before continuing in a smooth tone.]
Cantarella... If I'm to be found dead at any point, I would like you to please work with a second party on containing any items found on my person. Nothing I possess on my death is to be taken by anyone - anyone - but that party or yourself... specifically because I am choosing to trust you both to keep the goals of the many in mind.
[A beat. In the way he looks at her, hopefully she can tell his wording is exactly the way it is for a reason, and that there is a lot left unsaid in her choice to hold her support.]
If you are holding, despite what I've told you... then know I cannot explain why just yet. And I will not be able to explain truthfully, under any circumstance, until we're free.
[...]
I know it is a lot to ask. But are you willing to do this for me?
[She listens intently, thumb crossing her lower lip a few times as she does. Her tongue is feeling very raw.]
You do already know how I feel about senseless sacrifice, Solomon, so I should hope you've thought carefully about this.
[If he tries to reply or take her words as an answer right away, Cantarella will hold her hand aloft, gently, because she's still speaking.]
For three dozen generations, the Fisalia have safeguarded Imperator's legacy, as the divine being They were before the dark abyss assimilated Them and spread its spiritual plague in the guise of faiths, seeding absolute control and paranoia in Rinascita's people. [Does the latter sound familiar? Hopefully, he follows.]
To achieve this, generations of their girls underwent torturous trials. A necessary sacrifice. These trials... [The pause is brief, but it's the pause of someone navigating something unspeakable or something that should be but is not there.] ... ended when I became matriarch, and as long as I am matriarch, they will not exist again.
Do you intend the many to include the many who would come after us?
[Good thing she does lift that hand, because he sure was opening his mouth to retort a little! But he obediently snaps it shut and lets her continue.
Mm. She does feel very strongly about this, doesn't she? But it does twist something inside him, in a good way. That he chose correctly, for something like this.]
You worry so grandly. [It's a little longsuffering, how it teases, but he draws himself serious.] I don't intend it to be a sacrifice. You have my word on that. But it is not something I can promise will extend past our Troupe. I don't have the power I once did to enforce something like that.
Think of it as... lifeboats, for a storm. We may not need them, but they have been rigged for a possibility, and nothing more.
All I need is for my failsafe to not end up in the hands of someone who would turn it on another, rather than ensuring those boats don't get swept away by the storm before they can be used.
[Her eyes narrow a little bit at that long-suffering old man response of his. The grandpa energy is definitely beginning to waft off of him.
Still, that puts the greatest of her concerns at bay. From their first true conversation, she hadn't thought that throwing kindly on the pyre without trying to define their own way was how either of them would play their roles.]
The encroaching tide is something I'm intimately familiar with keeping at bay. As is having a failsafe.
[Not surprising to hear. But he does tilt his head a little to look off to the side - off into the open space of the Rose Gardens they sit under. Exposed.]
That's as much as I can give you without an answer in return. I'm sorry.
[His eyes grow warm at the edges, silently thankful. But he stays silent, rummaging through his coat to pull out a deep blue pen covered in golden flowers, uncapping it.]
[He'll turn that hand over to write out a name on the surface of her palm.
"YUGAMU"]
They'll be on the lookout for my other pen. [His smile is even as he gestures with the flowered one in his hand. As in: not this one.] Don't halt them if they're insistent on taking it, please. It was by request.
Also: this ink is washable, so don't worry about it staining. [AKA, feel free to get rid of that little note as soon as you want.]
Gather them, regardless. I'd rather have some excuse of "he requested nostalgic memories buried with his roses" or something like that. If it takes eyes off the real purpose, then all the better for it.
I approve of both the scheme and the sentiment attached to it. It'd be better for your memories to stay with above-ground than be surrendered to some fire down below.
Do you have roommates who might be prone to sticky fingers? [She's testing with this question and clearly knows it, but it's precisely worded so he can deflect with his answer.
[She frowns at the statement about his dormmates but pauses only the slightest sliver at the exact names. They both surprise to hear and align exactly with her expectations at the same time.]
I'll make sure of it, and I'll make sure to let you handle the more intricate dances of your épreuves.
[She waves his apologies off as unnecessary, light as spun sugar.]
All things must unfold in time, in the proper order.
[She understands procedure, in a way that unfortunately aligns with linear story progression and thus feels a little close to this particular sun burning hot beneath them. Cantarella goes to rise.]
And necessity breeds many things, though we don't need to agree on all of them. It's best to be prepared.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
...
I do have a, uh... request for you, though, Cantarella. If you don't mind hearing it.
no subject
[Though the setup is still lighthearted, Cantarella's body language becomes more serious, and she leans forward. Requests that have to be so introduced are often heavy ones. Maybe he can suspect she's carried such heavy things before.]
As long as my cooperation can be held until I've heard it. I do have a tendency to seek my own way of doing things.
no subject
[He exhales slowly, as though gathering his thoughts, before continuing in a smooth tone.]
Cantarella... If I'm to be found dead at any point, I would like you to please work with a second party on containing any items found on my person. Nothing I possess on my death is to be taken by anyone - anyone - but that party or yourself... specifically because I am choosing to trust you both to keep the goals of the many in mind.
[A beat. In the way he looks at her, hopefully she can tell his wording is exactly the way it is for a reason, and that there is a lot left unsaid in her choice to hold her support.]
If you are holding, despite what I've told you... then know I cannot explain why just yet. And I will not be able to explain truthfully, under any circumstance, until we're free.
[...]
I know it is a lot to ask. But are you willing to do this for me?
cw religious gaslighting, child abuse
You do already know how I feel about senseless sacrifice, Solomon, so I should hope you've thought carefully about this.
[If he tries to reply or take her words as an answer right away, Cantarella will hold her hand aloft, gently, because she's still speaking.]
For three dozen generations, the Fisalia have safeguarded Imperator's legacy, as the divine being They were before the dark abyss assimilated Them and spread its spiritual plague in the guise of faiths, seeding absolute control and paranoia in Rinascita's people. [Does the latter sound familiar? Hopefully, he follows.]
To achieve this, generations of their girls underwent torturous trials. A necessary sacrifice. These trials... [The pause is brief, but it's the pause of someone navigating something unspeakable or something that should be but is not there.] ... ended when I became matriarch, and as long as I am matriarch, they will not exist again.
Do you intend the many to include the many who would come after us?
no subject
Mm. She does feel very strongly about this, doesn't she? But it does twist something inside him, in a good way. That he chose correctly, for something like this.]
You worry so grandly. [It's a little longsuffering, how it teases, but he draws himself serious.] I don't intend it to be a sacrifice. You have my word on that. But it is not something I can promise will extend past our Troupe. I don't have the power I once did to enforce something like that.
Think of it as... lifeboats, for a storm. We may not need them, but they have been rigged for a possibility, and nothing more.
All I need is for my failsafe to not end up in the hands of someone who would turn it on another, rather than ensuring those boats don't get swept away by the storm before they can be used.
no subject
Still, that puts the greatest of her concerns at bay. From their first true conversation, she hadn't thought that throwing kindly on the pyre without trying to define their own way was how either of them would play their roles.]
The encroaching tide is something I'm intimately familiar with keeping at bay. As is having a failsafe.
no subject
[Not surprising to hear. But he does tilt his head a little to look off to the side - off into the open space of the Rose Gardens they sit under. Exposed.]
That's as much as I can give you without an answer in return. I'm sorry.
Do I have your cooperation, my dear?
no subject
I'll keep an eye on your effects. There are many priceless artifacts we're good at keeping in the castle.
no subject
Your hand, please, if you could.
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no subject
"YUGAMU"]
They'll be on the lookout for my other pen. [His smile is even as he gestures with the flowered one in his hand. As in: not this one.] Don't halt them if they're insistent on taking it, please. It was by request.
Also: this ink is washable, so don't worry about it staining. [AKA, feel free to get rid of that little note as soon as you want.]
no subject
I see.
[Cantarella brings her hand down and folds it in front of her with the other.]
To clarify, would you like custody of your effects to be split, or am I something of a backup?
no subject
It cannot end up with our Dramaturge. And it cannot end up with Father.
sleepily....tags back just to move this so it's ready IN CASE FRIDAY IS BAD
What about the rest of your effects?
:) what no never
well friday was bad but not like that :(
Do you have roommates who might be prone to sticky fingers? [She's testing with this question and clearly knows it, but it's precisely worded so he can deflect with his answer.
sad trombones
Pinocchio might be slightly sad. But the rest of my roommates could care less about me, to be perfectly honest.
You have nothing to worry about on that front. Just make sure that Fandaniel and Nishi don't go finding it.
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no subject
I'll make sure of it, and I'll make sure to let you handle the more intricate dances of your épreuves.
no subject
It's not as though he hasn't tried.]
Don't worry. If it becomes necessary for me to tell you more, I will tell you both.
Right now, I can't. I'm sorry.
no subject
All things must unfold in time, in the proper order.
[She understands procedure, in a way that unfortunately aligns with linear story progression and thus feels a little close to this particular sun burning hot beneath them. Cantarella goes to rise.]
And necessity breeds many things, though we don't need to agree on all of them. It's best to be prepared.
no subject
[He bows his head just slightly from his seat on the ground.]
Thank you for your ear, Cantarella. Until we meet again.