I believe we've discussed that you're not here to poison me, so why not? Make whatever you think will appeal, and I'll judge you on whether or not you were right.
[As predicted, Darkstar does in fact peel off from them once they enter the lounge. At first, the sound of her nails clicking as she trots across the hall heralds her departure; shortly thereafter, the sound of splashing water can be distantly heard.
Rufus, meanwhile, goes directly to the pool table and starts to rack the balls with rapid precision, content to have something to do for himself while leaving Tifa the space to do as she likes with the bartop.]
Without sarcasm, Miss Lockhart: is it your intention that we talk to each other at some point, or are we keeping this visit to drinks and billiards only?
[ because if there's a skill that tifa feels herself fairly adept at, it's being able to get a good read on a person's drink preferences. plus, it helps to prevent the returning of the tension in her shoulders now that she's this far into rufus' suite, at least feeling herself in a space that at least suits the kind of air that she's used to, even if it lacks the rambunctious noise of a busy night within seventh heaven, filled with the locals piling in for their nightly drinks.
she's turned back to the bottles as rufus steps away, distracting herself with the labels once more to make calculations in her head about which ones to mix, when his question catches her attention and she stills, gaze unfocusing from the bottle in front of her, feeling the threat of tension working its way back into her muscles.
of course he'd ask eventually. she just hadn't been sure if she'd really be prepared for an answer. ]
To be honest ... I'm not really sure. [ she doesn't turn to look at him, busying herself instead with the shelves, finding it easier this way. ] It's not like I'm here to make any kind of extended deal or anything. And I won't lie, I still have my doubts about ... you. [ it's not spoken with any sort of malice, but the honesty is there, to him, just as it is a reminder to herself. ] But — well, you said before you wanted to give me an opportunity to get to know you, so ... so I'm here. And that's all I've really got right now.
Well. Unfortunately, I can't be anyone other than myself — though I could pretend my name was something different, I suppose.
[He arranges the balls neatly, then goes over and finds his preferred cue before lining up and making a clean break, more for the sake of hearing the balls clack against each other than anything else. He'll set them up again when Tifa is finished with her own work; for the time being he's more than content to amuse himself with something to do with his own hands, appraising angles and taking shots on the table to pass the time.]
Let's see. We've discussed my dog and your cat. You've told me about your father and — well, who doesn't know mine. [He says, dry as bone.] There's a girl here who's been trying to get me to "make friends" with people. Suddenly I wish I'd paid more attention to her ideas about small talk.
[ though she wishes he were someone different, she imagines that if he were, this really wouldn’t be as complicated as this. because who more than the very president of the company that’s long since controlled all the tides of her life would be as difficult to endure as company? maybe it’s worse because rufus isn’t necessarily downright cruel in the way he presents himself. not that she’s finding reasons to like him, really, but … being around him hasn’t been so much of a punishment per se, either. it’s almost more infuriating because of it.
taking a few bottles in hand by their necks, she brings them to arrange over on the counter, lining them up to consider in her head how she intends to mix them. ]
Yeah, you could probably use some pointers.
[ then again, she wonders how someone who doesn’t know him would regard him, considering her own tension comes from so much that’s been carried since before they’d even met.
her fingers pause in opening up a bottle at the mention of her mother. she’s quiet for a moment before answering with a small shake of her head. ]
No, not off-limits. Just … well, she died when I was really young. She’d been sick and it hit me pretty hard when I lost her. [ she’s caught staring at her hands for a moment before lifting her head and putting on a small smile. ] But she was the most beautiful person I ever knew, inside and out. She taught how to play piano before she passed, and so I kept that up to try to hold onto her.
[ she turns, distracting herself again by looking around for glasses. ]
You know, with all that the world’s talked about you and your father, I never heard anything about your mother. What happened to her?
[He's had a long time to learn how to hide his tells, and it's not as though her question about his mother comes unexpected; it's the obvious thing to ask him in return, after he'd all but opened the door by asking after hers. But he's still quiet for a little too long anyway, regarding the lay of the billiard balls a little too long, thumb rubbing idly against the cue he holds between both hands as he seems to dwell over how he wants to answer that question under the guise of evaluating his next shot.]
Similar. A car accident when I was young.
[And yet the memory of the punishment room in the resort's basement comes back to him, the lamplit elevator, Mummy knows best, you still need your mother —
No. That was nothing but phantoms and tricks. He doesn't even remember the sound of her voice, so any sort of charade could easily pass.]
I'm told I look like her, from people who knew her firsthand. She was responsible for me until I was about eight, and then after she died, tutors took over.
[He pauses, then seems to shrug his mood off and glances up, smiling wryly.]
She had me learn piano, too. That must just be a habit of mothers.
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no subject
[As predicted, Darkstar does in fact peel off from them once they enter the lounge. At first, the sound of her nails clicking as she trots across the hall heralds her departure; shortly thereafter, the sound of splashing water can be distantly heard.
Rufus, meanwhile, goes directly to the pool table and starts to rack the balls with rapid precision, content to have something to do for himself while leaving Tifa the space to do as she likes with the bartop.]
Without sarcasm, Miss Lockhart: is it your intention that we talk to each other at some point, or are we keeping this visit to drinks and billiards only?
no subject
[ because if there's a skill that tifa feels herself fairly adept at, it's being able to get a good read on a person's drink preferences. plus, it helps to prevent the returning of the tension in her shoulders now that she's this far into rufus' suite, at least feeling herself in a space that at least suits the kind of air that she's used to, even if it lacks the rambunctious noise of a busy night within seventh heaven, filled with the locals piling in for their nightly drinks.
she's turned back to the bottles as rufus steps away, distracting herself with the labels once more to make calculations in her head about which ones to mix, when his question catches her attention and she stills, gaze unfocusing from the bottle in front of her, feeling the threat of tension working its way back into her muscles.
of course he'd ask eventually. she just hadn't been sure if she'd really be prepared for an answer. ]
To be honest ... I'm not really sure. [ she doesn't turn to look at him, busying herself instead with the shelves, finding it easier this way. ] It's not like I'm here to make any kind of extended deal or anything. And I won't lie, I still have my doubts about ... you. [ it's not spoken with any sort of malice, but the honesty is there, to him, just as it is a reminder to herself. ] But — well, you said before you wanted to give me an opportunity to get to know you, so ... so I'm here. And that's all I've really got right now.
no subject
[He arranges the balls neatly, then goes over and finds his preferred cue before lining up and making a clean break, more for the sake of hearing the balls clack against each other than anything else. He'll set them up again when Tifa is finished with her own work; for the time being he's more than content to amuse himself with something to do with his own hands, appraising angles and taking shots on the table to pass the time.]
Let's see. We've discussed my dog and your cat. You've told me about your father and — well, who doesn't know mine. [He says, dry as bone.] There's a girl here who's been trying to get me to "make friends" with people. Suddenly I wish I'd paid more attention to her ideas about small talk.
[He pauses.]
You never mentioned your mother. Off-limits?
no subject
taking a few bottles in hand by their necks, she brings them to arrange over on the counter, lining them up to consider in her head how she intends to mix them. ]
Yeah, you could probably use some pointers.
[ then again, she wonders how someone who doesn’t know him would regard him, considering her own tension comes from so much that’s been carried since before they’d even met.
her fingers pause in opening up a bottle at the mention of her mother. she’s quiet for a moment before answering with a small shake of her head. ]
No, not off-limits. Just … well, she died when I was really young. She’d been sick and it hit me pretty hard when I lost her. [ she’s caught staring at her hands for a moment before lifting her head and putting on a small smile. ] But she was the most beautiful person I ever knew, inside and out. She taught how to play piano before she passed, and so I kept that up to try to hold onto her.
[ she turns, distracting herself again by looking around for glasses. ]
You know, with all that the world’s talked about you and your father, I never heard anything about your mother. What happened to her?
no subject
Similar. A car accident when I was young.
[And yet the memory of the punishment room in the resort's basement comes back to him, the lamplit elevator, Mummy knows best, you still need your mother —
No. That was nothing but phantoms and tricks. He doesn't even remember the sound of her voice, so any sort of charade could easily pass.]
I'm told I look like her, from people who knew her firsthand. She was responsible for me until I was about eight, and then after she died, tutors took over.
[He pauses, then seems to shrug his mood off and glances up, smiling wryly.]
She had me learn piano, too. That must just be a habit of mothers.