crescentview | ( summer catch-all! )

( oh ... his reaction. it surprises her a little the way he sinks in like that. he is rather scrawny - but it is by no means unattractive to her. all that Amber can wager from such an event is that he may know how she feels. she sits up, visually interested through her body language in paying attention to him. )

Children like ... ( she pauses, and considers her next words carefully. but ultimately, she delivers it simply: )

You and me?

[He makes a wordless sound, nodding before closing his eyes again and sitting still outside of breathing. It's shallow, like he's afraid if he breathes too deeply something will catch, but really he's just afraid of creating anymore sound, right then. Everything is so silent it's deafening, there's a clock somewhere on the wall on the lower level that he thinks he can hear ticking.]

[He'd like, he thinks, to throw himself out the window about four paces to his right, for entertaining his next course of action. Instead, he moves his head from the wall, stretches his legs out, watches the way his skin moves over his knobby knees.]

My mother killed herself when I was eight. [He raises his left arm, trailing the fingers of his right in a slow track along the inside of his left wrist. He doesn't explain further-- Amber will either understand, or she won't, and he thinks it kinder if he doesn't explain in case she doesn't.] I was in foster care until fourteen, biding my time for emancipation. I became my own guardian, and have been ever since. No one to answer to, no one to answer for.

( Amber blinks once or twice as she digests what she has been told - and her expression falls into one of compassion while she listens. their experiences do not align entirely, but he likely knows the feeling of loneliness that comes coupled with family loss. this may only scratch the surface, as far as she is concerned, because she had no idea about Akechi's mother's background or what she was like.

respectfully, she won't press him on the matter, but she will try and offer a gentle form of compassion. one that does not pry or patronise. )

... I'm so sorry. I have no idea how you must feel, having gone through that ...

( but, as far as the isolation goes, she can relate. )

I hear you. I don't know what you went through, but I know a thing or two about being lonely as well without any family around. ( ... )

... Do you want to come sit with me? ( she just has this urge to be physically closer to him. )

[He laughs again at her question, drawing his fingers up the inside of his wrist again, pressing his nail into the skin to leave a red line that fades quickly. He does it again, then a third time, tracing the same line.]

She killed herself because of me, Amber. I'm not a good choice for sitting companions.

( while she could've anticipated any response from him, this isn't what she was expecting to hear. Amber watches as he picks at his skin, noticing a habit belonging to a frustrated and hurt child. or in his case at present - a hurting adult.

for a moment, she contemplates on what to say next. insisting that he is fine as he is that would invalidate his trauma concerning the matter. better yet, he may not want to explain things further. although she feels inconsiderate, she desires to know more about him, even his past - no matter how unsavoury it might be.

after all, Collei killed several people. Amber has seen this kind of pain before, even if it looks different. just as Collei's killings had a story, his likely does too. listening may be her biggest form of compassion to him at this moment, so she decides to offer that. )

You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. But, please know this, Akechi. I will listen to anything you have to say. Even if you don't think you're worthy of sitting next to me ... you're worth having your voice heard.

Edited 2023-01-19 04:21 (UTC)

[He drones a monotonous sound, a hum to acknowledge he heard her, his face starkly blank. He isn't looking at anything, more of looking through the foot of the bed, the way where he sat at the corner has wrinkled the blanket. He processes her words one at a time, sentence for sentence, slowly like he's suddenly lost the ability to understand the language she speaks.]

["You're worth having your voice heard."]

[He laughs, suddenly, a bark of explosive sound, and curls his knees back toward himself, huddling around them. His voice is pitched higher, bordering on hysteria, stretched thin like a balloon he keeps forcing air into.] That's funny. You're funny, Amber, you really ought to think a little harder before you make judgments like that. [It's rude on purpose. Nothing good ever stays, because he destroys it, so it's better to do so quickly so he has less of a chance to miss it when it's gone.] You have no idea who I am, what I've done. No one here does. I literally just told you my mother killed herself because of me. When I was eight. I'm nineteen now, likely, that's eleven more years of unwanted life because I'm too goddamn vicious to give up and die.

[He's tapping his fingertips together rhythmically, thumb to his index finger, to his middle, ring finger, pinky. Back to the ring finger, middle, index. Back. Forth. His expression his twisted and pained, like his stomach hurts, but he sneers at her anyway, dropping his tone to a condescending murmur.] And you're soft enough to say I'm worth having my voice heard.

( of course, she should have expected some pushback to her support. god knows how long it took before Collei accepted any help at all when she was dealing with the effects of her fatui experimentation.

but she doesn't balk. not by his sharp words that come wielded from a lifetime of hurt, or the way that he viscously rejects her compassion. these behaviours don't come from a place of hatred - she can warrant that much, even without amazing analytical powers like his own. Amber can detect familiarity, a pattern, in how he speaks and acts.

there is nothing she can do except for offer him patience. sticking to her guns, she repeats her initial statement. )

You're right. I don't have any idea who you are, or what you've done. But I won't go back on my words.

You have a story. One you don't have to tell me - not today, not ever. When I was alone and suffering, all I wanted was one person to listen to me so that I could stop blaming myself for the circumstances I landed in.

I will be someone you can confide in, if you want. But it doesn't have to be now. Just know that there is someone who will hear you.

[He expected... Maybe even hoped that she would be upset. They'd filled the square, they'd shared a bed. Their mutual benefit made, it was fine if she left. It was better if she left, certainly for her.]

[So when she squares her shoulders and persists, his eyebrows crease together and he scowls, looking away from her and shaking his head.] You're a fool, then. [Only two people before Amber have really tried, and he's given them the same lip. The same insistence he isn't worth it, that they're stupid for trying. He'll take it to his grave, no matter how much he craves for their feeble pleasantries to be true.]

[He folds tighter around his knees.] Unlike you, I've no one to blame for my circumstances but myself, and I prefer it that way anyhow. No one to answer to, no one to answer for. I make my own choices, and most of them have been as wretched as the rest of me. You'd do well to choose those you aim to hear more wisely.

( she may be a fool, but she's a fool that won't give up on him. )

I know I might sound naïve and clueless to you about pressing matters, but ... my compassion doesn't come from empty words and false promises.

A friend of mine from back home suffered a great ordeal at the hands of a criminal organisation. They injected her with poison - one which would take the form of a monster and control her actions and her thoughts. She killed several people, and tried to kill both myself and Sir Kaeya.

In retaliation to this attack, Sir Kaeya tried to kill her. But I ran in to save her. During her attempted killing of us, I could hear her. Over and over again she said, "I don't want this" and "this isn't me." If I didn't listen back then, she wouldn't be here with us. We wouldn't have learned about what brought her to the point she ended up in. That's when we investigated the experiments, and she started a new life.

( Amber takes a breath. )

... I'm only sharing this story because I want you to understand that I don't say things empty-handed. I may seem like an air-headed optimist, but I believe that everyone who is hurting has the right to be heard. The ugliest truth cannot scare me away from you.

["Sir Kaeya" is funny, even if he doesn't feel like laughing about it in the moment. He considers spitting at her that her "Sir Kaeya" tossed his salad like romaine, but it proves no point so he just listens.]

[And at the end of it... Well, she's still an air-headed optimist, really. Saving people who kill, whether they want it or not... He can't deny that the story strikes uncomfortably close to home, except that he'll swear day in and day out that he chose his lot. He killed those people, he chose to kill those people. He could have said no, and he never did, blinded by his childish plot for revenge.]

[He flinches, when she's done, curls inward. His shoulders hunch up to his ears and he tangles himself into a miserable little heap against the headboard, scowling.] I'm not a child with a stubbed toe. [Sure is as petulant as one, though.]

I know you aren't.

( it's almost funny to hear such an analogy, especially since she would argue that what he's gone through is a lot more severe than a childhood bump. at the very least, he seems to have softened a bit, which has relieved her for the time being. Amber gazes over at him with her bright golden eyes, smiling kindly. )

You're not a child that I'm minding. You're my friend.

[His eyes swivel abruptly to her, startled and scarlet, and he looks strangely hunted by the suggestion they're friends. The word is like a bullet fired, to him, and it echoes in his head for a long time. He stares, waits for her to think better of the statement, waits for her to get off the bed and leave anyway. Just kidding, she'd say. This is too much. He was always too much.]

[But she doesn't, and it sours his stomach further, so he closes his eyes on a wince, hugging his knees tighter still.] That's stupid, you barely know me.

Hmmm ...

( she hums, fondly recalling a game she played with him not too long ago with a smile on her face while she rubs her chin in thought. there's a playful sparkle in her eyes while she recites what she can remember. )

Your name is Goro Akechi. You're from a land called Tokyo. You're acquainted with Sir Kaeya and Master Diluc. You love cycling and climbing. You like coffee just like I do, and you don't have a specific favourite kind. ( Amber grins. ) See? I know some things. I'm looking forward to getting to know more, too.

[This time he sighs, and a bit of tension bleeds out of his coiled frame. He opens his eyes just slightly, staring at his elbow for a while before he shifts again, setting his chin on his arm and giving her an impassive look.]

...given my conduct for the evening that seems like a terrible idea on your part.

Good thing I'm a grown woman who can make her own choices.

( she will keep petting this tiny hedgehog of a man no matter how many spikes he points at her!! )

[Excuse you, ma'am, he is a whole six inches taller than you. Not that you can tell from the way he's folded all up on himself taking up like a twelfth of his own fucking bed. He hums again, closing his eyes a moment before opening them and staring at his feet.]

...apologizing is a moot point, given I most certainly will behave this poorly again. It's simply my nature. [To be an absolute prick of a man.]

( ok, sweetie. if he thinks that's thrown Amber off at all, he's got another thing coming. )

You can tell me over and over again how bad you are, but that doesn't change how I see you. You offered to help me with bingo tiles, you've spent time with me and agreed to step out of your comfort zone to have a sleepover with me.

( Amber leans over to place her warm hand on his lithe arm with a comforting stroke. )

Even if you can't see good things about yourself, people around you can. Now ... ( she removes herself and sits back. ) Let's think of something to do! Unless you want to keep talking. I'm good with either.

[He exhales gustily, shaking his head and jolting, but not pulling away when she puts her hand on him.]

[She really is so warm. He watches the spot on his arm her hand was once she pulls away again, the skin there instantly feeling cold, and looks up with a bit of a weary expression.] You're looking too hard if you're seeing good things. I inherited my mother's hair and high cheekbones but otherwise you ought to throw all of me in the river. [But he uncurls from his little tangle of limbs slightly, letting the self-deprecation be defensive, nihilistic humor.] I'm at a loss, for that.

( his mother must've been really pretty, she thinks, because he is really pretty. she smiles stiffly at him while quirking an eyebrow. )

If I throw you in a river, how will I check off this bingo square? ( she jests, before softening her expression. ) No rivers for you. You're staying right here. ( her eyes are kind when she peers at him, before she jumps off the bed. )

Okay, I have a crazy idea. I know we aren't supposed to have caffeine before bed, but ... what if we had some coffee? I know you like coffee, and I like coffee! And it's kind of rebellious, don't you think? Having coffee at such a late hour? Hehehe!

[At least she has a practical take on not throwing him in the river, he supposes. His eyebrows raise and he nods, wordlessly agreeing until she gets soft and he rankles back into uncertain frustration. When she vaults off the bed suggesting coffee, his eyes track her with a bland expression, and he unfolds to let one pale leg dangle off the edge of the bed.]

The very spirit of rebellion, I'd wager, [His tone is sarcastic, but he gets up anyway. There's a very faint smile to his features, somewhere between tolerant and actual enthusiasm.]

( YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH! late night coffee!!! Amber chirps out a giggle with glee when she sees him get up, which explicitly demonstrates his enthusiasm. was that a small smile she noticed? score! he just got even cuter. soon enough she joins him as they travel down the stairs and make their way to the kitchen.

instead of rummaging through his kitchen, she keeps both hands fixed behind her back while she hums, giving him the space to access everything they'll need. )

I'm looking forward to seeing how you like your coffee in person! I know we've talked about it, but it's just really nice to be around another coffee enthusiast. Plus, having it at this hour just makes it so much more exciting! ( if she's awake at 4am then we all know why...... )

[His kitchen is kind of depressing. It's very basic, but he does have a little french press he figured out how to work, probably from some little nugget of random coffee trivia he learned from Akira at some point. He sets an old metal kettle on the stove and turns on the burner, tapping his foot idly as if nervous for a moment before moving to the cabinets. The bag of coffee grounds is one of the only things in them, and he carefully measures out a few spoonfuls to put into the french press.]

...you're a very rule-abiding person, aren't you? To have never had coffee at a societal "taboo" hour...

Ehehe! ( she can't help but laugh because - he's absolutely called her out here, but she has broken rules before ... quite often, actually. )

Believe it or not, that's not the whole story. I try my best to abide by the rules now, but ... ( Amber bashfully scratches the back of her head. ) I might have had my gliding license revoked. At least, like ... twelve times or so. But that's because Mondstadt is all like, "no landing zone" this and "no gliding zone" that ... what's a girl to do?!

I used to be a huge troublemaker when I was little but, uh ... I try to be good now. Try. ( she repeats, for emphasis! ) Still, there's something really thrilling about late night coffee!

So! Would you care to show me how you like to make yours? I'd love to see!

[He does his best to look surprised, but from Amber's spunky nature he had surmised she was likely a bit of a troublesome child. If she had this much energy as a young adult, he could only imagine her in adolescence and prior. He isn't entirely sure what a gliding license is, but from her description he can make an educated enough guess, grinning and staying quiet as he pulls out the few small things he has in his kitchen. There's a french press, and a hand-grinder, and a small bag of whole coffee beans.]

It's been a learning process, to be honest. I... knew someone, back home, who lived above a charming cafe that specialized in coffee and curry, and I've always been a bit unhealthily caffeinated to manage the amount of work I constantly put on my own plate.

[He scoops out two servings of beans into the grinder and turns the little handle, grinding them slowly into a coarse, even grind for the press. He remembers that much, at least. As he transfers the grinds to the press, he chuckles, drumming his fingernails against the glass.] This is another item designated as "French", though in this case it is, in fact, due to it being made popular by the French people.

Coffee and curry, huh? That sounds like a great combo! ( and one part definitely resonates with Amber: ) Honestly? Same, there. My job keeps me constantly moving around. Always on my feet. I think I'm a bit reliant on caffeine too, but ... ah well!

( who let him be so cute!! he becomes so animated when he talks about coffee, which strikes an arrow through Amber's heart. she can only wonder what it was like back in his world ... this mysterious world where a lot of things seem to be influenced by this elusive "French" place ... )

Seriously? Wow! There must be something really special about that "French" place in your world. What else is "French?" We know about kissing and coffee ... it sounds like a pretty great place, if you ask me!

outrider amber!

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here u go amber have a flirty icon

SO #BLESSED