open rp 2013 | INBOX 2.0

[dondarrion]

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[wont]

[ She doesn't quite wait on him the way a servant does — they're friends, almost family now, so there isn't room for that sort of thing — but there is a very particular attentiveness that Alayne pays to Jack whenever she's around. When they'd all been together under COMPASS, it was something she would do with Isaac constantly. Halfway between wheedling and neediness, the need to be a constant presence — if only to provide and, therefore, be wanted. Despite everything they've been through together there is still that thin thread of worry in all that Alayne does. What if I'm not good enough? What if he's unhappy? It colors the things that she does, just as she wrings her hands a little until Jack finally drops himself into a chair.

Only then does Alayne speak. His relief is echoed with a small noise of her own. ]

I sold a dress today. [ Her voice is equal parts proud and gossipy and she comes round and perches herself on the edge of the chair beside him. ] To a woman I am certain will fail to fit it in, though she refused to listen to a word any of us said. We could have lived like lord and lady for a month on the cost alone. [ Alayne sighs. ] It was a very pretty dress. [ All of Alayne's clothes are plain and dull, now that they must scrape together a modest living. ]

[unkindly]

[He listens, looking at her and watching her as he drinks.]

Congratulations.

[He smiles. He doesn't understand how people could spend so much money on clothing, but he knows better than to be derisive about it, since he knows Alayne comes from a wealthy background.]

What did it look like?

[wont]

[ Alayne is fairly certain Jack could care less about what the dress looked like, but he asks because it's obviously important to her and it is the major thread to the day's weft. That was how loved work, wasn't it? You took the things that another person cared for and you made them your own. Just by virtue of the fact that they were considered noteworthy or worthwhile, they became a part of your life. Association by proxy.

Looking up at the ceiling to imagine the dress in her mind's eye, Alayne shrugs with both her shoulders and then sighs. ]

A purple as dark as winter grapes, dripping with beads from every inch and cut with daring throat. It was, I think, quite scandalous. [ Alayne looks at Jack and lifts her eyebrows. ] She was a very full woman. Were she to don it, no doubt she would pour from every seam. [ Now, now, Alayne. That's not nice. ]

[unkindly]

[He listens carefully to the description. She's right, he really doesn't care that much about the dress, but he does his best to imagine what it would look like anyway. The best he can do is imagine Alayne in some purple thing, and he knows it's probably not even close to what she's describing.

Jack sips his drink.]

Still, she bought it.

[wont]

[ In her most gossip-y tone of voice, leaning forward over the arm of her chair in his direction even though there's no one here to overhear them: ] Still, she bought it. Then another in bright green, but she didn't think it looked right with my hair so she had one of the other girls try it on. [ Alayne frowns at that, the commission not having gone to her. But one sale was better than none and it would mean a little pocket money to do something nice for Jack when her next allowance came. ]

[unkindly]

[The gossip is strange but he likes hearing Alayne talk about it, because it matters to her, and it gives them something to talk about. Not that the don't have things to talk about, but sharing things about their days is the kind of comfortable ritual that Jack never really thought he'd have again. He smiles at Alayne and shrugs.]

There'll be other dresses.