She actually does look like it. Wearing a black dress far more modest than her space prom debacle, hair pinned back, and carrying a large plate with a few pieces of... cake? remaining on it, it almost seems kind of... wrong, when contrasted against the Neheda.
What's even more alarming is that if the redness and swelling around her eyes is any indication, she's... cried recently.
And when she sees Nic in the hall on the approach to her quarters, she slowly... stops...]
[ back from another excursion into the wild (read: down the hall) to get himself some more paper, nic hadn't really anticipated coming across anyone along the way... at the very least, not someone who'd give him cause to stop.
maybe it's the sight she makes (all red-eyed and puffy), or maybe it's the distinct smell of sweet cakes and... onion?? whatever the reason may be, stop he does, and stare a little too.
he's aware of what's happening elsewhere on the ship, but it doesn't yet occur to him why havoc would want any part of it. ]
[Havoc had stopped, her gaze looking for any cues to tell her what Nic had been up to, where he was coming from, why, in the space of a few seconds.
Paper run. Writing?
At the question, she nods, and since her hands are full with the plate she's carrying, she tosses her head slightly down the hall in a vague "over there" sort of gesture.]
[ he'd caught a word or two about it here and there, but considering none of the persons involved were in any direct affiliation with him... well. he hadn't seen the need to keep up formalities. funerals, after all, were still a strange ceremony to a twilight like him. ]
["Hei" was dead and it was very sad- if she tried to think of it from an emotional point of view. Someone she'd worked with extensively. One of the few who knew her real name (how many of those people were still left? Hopefully not many-). The one who'd-]
He tried to save me, before.
["Tried" being the operative word, considering the large scars splashed across her chest illustrated quite well enough that she was no longer living in her own world.]
[ always carefully watching her, someone who makes a habit of putting on a show for anyone and everyone that could be watching. so every little nuance is a tell, every little twitch or glance could be a slip. her choice of words is always important, too, so he catches on to the emphasis on "tried," recalling all too well the look of those scars.
he arches a brow. ]
sO Who WaS THe ShoW fOR?
[ he assumes there are more people she knows from home here, more people who would expect her to mourn the man. ]
[Havoc was putting on a good one. She'd managed to make it look as if she'd actually been crying, for one, and only the keenest of noses (like Nic's) could detect the small hint of onion that lingered. She was quiet, reserved, withdrawn-
She didn't even realize herself that a small, small part of it wasn't an act.
That a part of her that remembered how to feel was sad that Hei was dead. But that part of her was constantly and easily ignored.]
Does it have to be for someone?
[Which could be read as a denial of it being a show at all- but more like the answer was "for everyone".]
[ the onion scent definitely makes a lot more sense now. nic himself had only ever had experience with cutting onions once (in which he managed to cut his own fingers up more than the onion itself) but he knows what they can do, and he knows how easy it would be to mistake a reaction to them with something else. ]
dOEs iT?
[ he arches a brow at her, looking much more curious than he had been at the mention of the funeral. ]
[She stared at him, that sullen, distant sort of look as if the gears in her head were turning and she wasn't about to make a move until she came to a proper answer.
Did it?]
He was a good ally.
[Was that even a good answer? He was a good ally, therefore he deserved a showing of grief? He was a good ally, therefore she ought to show some sort of mourning period? He earned it? His other allies expected it?
She didn't expound, only looked down at the contents of her hands then back at Nic.]
Hungry?
[Throwing the conversation in a different direction.]
[ it's a look he's come to know well in the small handful of time they spent together. he watches it with quiet fascination, looking almost pleased with himself if it weren't for his own schooled, blank expression.
when she drops his gaze, he considers his part on the matter complete. ]
i COuLd eAt.
[ the paper in his hands rustles noisily as he adjusts his hold on it, working to tuck it against his side rather than just palm the whole thing. ]
[At his agreement, (she seemed to be taking it as an agreement, at least), Havoc moved closer to him in order to hold out the somewhat bizarre looking... pudding cake? Grains were definitely involved.]
It's koliva.
[As if that explained anything to anyone outside of Eastern Europe. But that's all she said.]
[His nose, as usual, was correct. It was far less cake-like and more sweetbread, wheat disguised with honey, raisins, and sesame. Only the shape and the powdered sugar on top served to pass it off as a cake.]
Yes. It's tradition.
[For the dead. For the church. She'd learned it from that woman's mother, who hauled her up each week and took her to the church, to sit in the pews and confess, (but she'd had no memories to confess from), to bow her head and (pretend to) pray.
[ tradition, she says. nic tries to think of the funeral traditions back home, and can only recall two: the ones for twilights, and the ones for the members of the monroe family.
the monroes had a pretty big ceremony, at least by comparison. everyone work their blackest blacks, and treated each body with reverence as they were lowered to the ground.
twilights were thrown into a ditch. if there were even enough bodies to warrant digging a new one.
nic doesn't really know how to mourn; people died, twilights and humans both, some more than the other, some earlier than the other, and that's all there is to it. (not to say he doesn't know what loss feels like. but the two are fairly mutually exclusive.)
maybe havoc really is mourning. at the very least, she is feeling a loss. a loss of a good ally is a fairly detrimental blow in this business, in all the businesses, and attachment or not, a loss is still a loss. even if it's mostly just a disadvantage.
without warning, he reaches for the slice of cake with his free hand. he could have just as easily taken the whole thing, but he takes only a portion, leaving about 30% of it left. easy, too, to stuff what he's got into his mouth and chew. maybe even obnoxiously. ]
Objectively, she knew how humans tended to mourn. She's drawing on that knowledge now. She knew they tended to cry, (Amber had cried, the first Contractor in the world had cried- what did it mean?), so she'd seen to it she looked as if she had. She knew they tended to withdraw, and that wasn't hard at all.
As to what she really felt, if she were really in mourning... she wasn't going to think about it.
And he just. Reached out and took a messy, not quite solid slice of the food she held out to him, stuffed it in his mouth...
... Was he making some sort of point?]
... that's good.
[She still kept holding the plate out as if expecting him to take the rest.]
[A normal person would probably be offended. Their cooking wasn't good enough to finish? Havoc, on the other hand... was well aware her ingredients on the Neheda were limited, in addition to the inkling she had that Nicolas was the type to try and be contrary simply because he could.
So she only shrugged, finally, withdrew the plate.]
Suit yourself.
[Greetings and other polite manners were for other people- she only ducked her head and made to go.]
[ he doesn't make any move to stop her, but that's to be expected. he does, however, lift his hand back up to idly lick the remnants of the cake off his fingers.
and it's only when she's down the hall that he speaks again. ]
nExT TIme SneEzE. YouR NoSE And eYEs aRen'T rED EnOUgh.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
d. 84
She actually does look like it. Wearing a black dress far more modest than her space prom debacle, hair pinned back, and carrying a large plate with a few pieces of... cake? remaining on it, it almost seems kind of... wrong, when contrasted against the Neheda.
What's even more alarming is that if the redness and swelling around her eyes is any indication, she's... cried recently.
And when she sees Nic in the hall on the approach to her quarters, she slowly... stops...]
omg sorry for the wait
maybe it's the sight she makes (all red-eyed and puffy), or maybe it's the distinct smell of sweet cakes and... onion?? whatever the reason may be, stop he does, and stare a little too.
he's aware of what's happening elsewhere on the ship, but it doesn't yet occur to him why havoc would want any part of it. ]
bAd DAy?
no nevah
Paper run. Writing?
At the question, she nods, and since her hands are full with the plate she's carrying, she tosses her head slightly down the hall in a vague "over there" sort of gesture.]
The funeral service was today.
[Didn't you get the memo?]
oh ok
sOMEboDy You knEw?
no subject
["Hei" was dead and it was very sad- if she tried to think of it from an emotional point of view. Someone she'd worked with extensively. One of the few who knew her real name (how many of those people were still left? Hopefully not many-). The one who'd-]
He tried to save me, before.
["Tried" being the operative word, considering the large scars splashed across her chest illustrated quite well enough that she was no longer living in her own world.]
no subject
he arches a brow. ]
sO Who WaS THe ShoW fOR?
[ he assumes there are more people she knows from home here, more people who would expect her to mourn the man. ]
no subject
She didn't even realize herself that a small, small part of it wasn't an act.
That a part of her that remembered how to feel was sad that Hei was dead. But that part of her was constantly and easily ignored.]
Does it have to be for someone?
[Which could be read as a denial of it being a show at all- but more like the answer was "for everyone".]
no subject
dOEs iT?
[ he arches a brow at her, looking much more curious than he had been at the mention of the funeral. ]
You TeLl me.
no subject
Did it?]
He was a good ally.
[Was that even a good answer? He was a good ally, therefore he deserved a showing of grief? He was a good ally, therefore she ought to show some sort of mourning period? He earned it? His other allies expected it?
She didn't expound, only looked down at the contents of her hands then back at Nic.]
Hungry?
[Throwing the conversation in a different direction.]
no subject
when she drops his gaze, he considers his part on the matter complete. ]
i COuLd eAt.
[ the paper in his hands rustles noisily as he adjusts his hold on it, working to tuck it against his side rather than just palm the whole thing. ]
no subject
It's koliva.
[As if that explained anything to anyone outside of Eastern Europe. But that's all she said.]
no subject
YOu MAkE iT agAIn?
no subject
Yes. It's tradition.
[For the dead. For the church. She'd learned it from that woman's mother, who hauled her up each week and took her to the church, to sit in the pews and confess, (but she'd had no memories to confess from), to bow her head and (pretend to) pray.
She still remembered how to make it.]
no subject
the monroes had a pretty big ceremony, at least by comparison. everyone work their blackest blacks, and treated each body with reverence as they were lowered to the ground.
twilights were thrown into a ditch. if there were even enough bodies to warrant digging a new one.
nic doesn't really know how to mourn; people died, twilights and humans both, some more than the other, some earlier than the other, and that's all there is to it. (not to say he doesn't know what loss feels like. but the two are fairly mutually exclusive.)
maybe havoc really is mourning. at the very least, she is feeling a loss. a loss of a good ally is a fairly detrimental blow in this business, in all the businesses, and attachment or not, a loss is still a loss. even if it's mostly just a disadvantage.
without warning, he reaches for the slice of cake with his free hand. he could have just as easily taken the whole thing, but he takes only a portion, leaving about 30% of it left. easy, too, to stuff what he's got into his mouth and chew. maybe even obnoxiously. ]
nOT bAd.
no subject
Objectively, she knew how humans tended to mourn. She's drawing on that knowledge now. She knew they tended to cry, (Amber had cried, the first Contractor in the world had cried- what did it mean?), so she'd seen to it she looked as if she had. She knew they tended to withdraw, and that wasn't hard at all.
As to what she really felt, if she were really in mourning... she wasn't going to think about it.
And he just. Reached out and took a messy, not quite solid slice of the food she held out to him, stuffed it in his mouth...
... Was he making some sort of point?]
... that's good.
[She still kept holding the plate out as if expecting him to take the rest.]
aww that's a pretty icon of her
it's worked out fine so far.
hand a mess, but face relatively sugar-free, he meets her look of expectation with one of question. ]
nOt GOOd EnouGh To fiNiSH thOUGh.
[ looks like you'll have to eat the rest yourself. ]
all caught off guard by kindness o regressor!havoc
So she only shrugged, finally, withdrew the plate.]
Suit yourself.
[Greetings and other polite manners were for other people- she only ducked her head and made to go.]
pinches her cheeks
and it's only when she's down the hall that he speaks again. ]
nExT TIme SneEzE. YouR NoSE And eYEs aRen'T rED EnOUgh.
no subject
Advice.
Havoc only ducked her head once more in acknowledgement, though she did file it away for future use.
Pepper. She could use pepper.]