maybe it's the color of the sun cut flat and coverin' the crossroads I'm standing at

[gottaknockhard]

Who: Spike Spiegel (gottaknockhard) and Anne Boleyn (ensorceler)
What: When you can't think of a comeback...
When: Late night/between the 30th-31st
Where: Room 613
Rating: PG13

From the sound of things, Paradisa's temporary residents were going through one of their more serious moments; those instances when there's a legitimate urgency to be doing anything but aimlessly roam the halls of the castle in the middle of the night. Spike was well aware of the plans announced over the journal, and it didn't even factor into what was putting a dent in his sleep.

Maybe it made him a bad person for putting his own reality ahead of mysterious voices on the radio. Or he just didn't like the idea of crowds. Spike had no better excuse for what brought him to the room he's standing in front of. Aside from the nagging feeling that he didn't get what he meant to say out the last time he saw her, there wasn't a single reason he should be disturbing whatever sleep she finally managed to find.

Sometimes he wasn't clever enough to think of a mysterious riddle to leave on her doorstep, or to have forethought outside of a whim guided by... whatever it was that pulled him around lately. He simply knocked and waited for her answer.

Comments

[ensorceler]

The only movement is a slight jerk from her exaggerated sniff, not even worth it to become a scoff. Otherwise she stays still for a drawn out moment, still and silent and simply watching it. She once was used to people kneeling at her feet, friends and enemies alike, so it brings her no discomfort.

"If they be so, then you would know all of the others here as well as yourself, and be able to keep them at bay or in sights as you please. But I think you do not even know yourself. Would you recognize your soul if it was shown to you?"

[gottaknockhard]

For a while he wonders why he came closer, or came at all, when their conversation always pushes at the limits of what he can answer. It could be that her religious bent is the closest thing he has to a spiritual outlet, and that combined with the other qualities he finds himself attracted to, his willpower suffers. Everything that happened to him was his own doing, one way or another, so it falls in line with the rest of his history.

With her, it's a different story. One he knows too many details of, by both of their standards, but that creates the kind of sympathy that inspires a dangerous amount of honesty.

"It might be missing some pieces. That would give me somewhere to start."

[ensorceler]

"So too would all the castle denizens so claim. That is no specialty of yours."

Lifting her foot a touch, silk slipper propping underneath his chin, Anne dares a smirk; nothing half-hidden or veiled. Where it stems from, she won't say, but it is one of a darker sense of satisfaction at another's expense.

"Do you wish to see if it will split down the middle? How much more can be done before there is nothing left?"

[gottaknockhard]

With the way he's staring at her, he may not be aware of the way she tilts his head, as if he's suddenly sure that he's dreaming this; it's the only way she'd be able to pick him apart so easily. She's convincing enough that he doesn't blow off the subject at the first opportunity.

"I have a pretty good head start on you."

[ensorceler]

Eyes shut, Anne allows her head to roll back as she lets out a husky laugh, one without abandon or concern for those it might enflame or disturb. There are none it could bring joy to, because it's laughter born of a bitterness that has been years in creation. She takes her time in relishing it, foot slipping past his cheek to kick up in a mockery of merriment where there is none; or perhaps there's a twisted version. The only kind she can cling to in times like this, where she thinks there's no air in the room; there is only fire and water.

"I think I would wager differently, sir. But this is no competition. You are not my peer, nor ever will you be."

Her legs cross, then, in a flurry of the skirts of her shift and robe, and one hand rests to her breast as she recovers from her fit remarkably fast, but a little smile remains there, even if her eyes glitter with an intent that is not kind.

"You have betrayed me as swiftly as any other; your lack of intent matters nothing to me. I care only for results. So what will it be in this case? Do things change, or do they not?"

[gottaknockhard]

Her laugh sounds wrong to his ears, too cold and spiteful, too familiar. He pushes the thought as far from his mind as possible, even if it means looking away as soon as she allows.

In a battle of pessimism, who would win? Being that he's always been somewhat of a competitive person, he can't help but imagine the outcome. Although when weighing her impaired ability to buffer herself, it may not be a fair time to judge.

Still, the castle has been feeding on his soul for years longer -- maybe longer than he even knows, seeing as there exists evidence that he's lost all memory of being here once or twice. Not exactly something to gloat over.

"Do you believe in things changing for the better?" His tone is light, despite himself, as if delivering nothing more important than a punchline. Or a tiebreaker, as the case may be.

[ensorceler]

Maybe he would win when it came to pessimism, perhaps, as at his inquiry there is hesitation, and the only slightest shift of her legs as some tiny flicker of hope yearns to be seen in her gaze.

How I wish to believe, yes; in something.

The Queen smothers it without mercy, and her normally bright blue eyes remain as dark as ever in the shadows of her throne, and she only sneers at him.

"All things gain for the better. And then, for certain, all things collapse. And so it goes, forever after, that struggle for power that not even the gods could keep hold of."

Leaning down, with one arm now draped almost casually over her knee, Anne glares while smiling.

"But it is still better to have an empire for a short while than not at all."

[gottaknockhard]

That's a 'yes', as far as he can tell, and not the answer he was expecting. It's a shame Jet isn't here, she would have appreciated his view on the subject. He wouldn't have put it so eloquently, but she managed to sum up his philosophy with just a few more words than he would have rattled off after a friendly drinking binge. Everyone can appreciate someone who is succinct when summarizing life in general.

"Then there's a chance." He rises finally, and stretches his legs and shoulders. It helps to keep him from lingering too long on the subject. Of all the reasons he didn't have for coming, he knows reflecting on himself as much has he has since he came inside wasn't one of them.

[ensorceler]

She only squints at him in displeasure as he stands without her leave. Even his humoring only goes so far, and she sniffs again before looking away, nails tapping in irritation against her knee while her other hand reaches for her goblet again.

"With your assurance, I am most soothed." There is a chance, maybe, her tone could get drier if she tried.

"What else have you come to bother me with? For it must not be this. You are not fit for service; you never were." He fails too often at doing her bidding, at least by her standards. "You made me laugh, once. That is all."

[gottaknockhard]

If it were a personal goal of his to lower her opinion of him with every encounter, he should be satisfied with the way this is going. The risks don't always pay off like they should.

The answer he has isn't going to help to smooth things over.

"I said it before. I couldn't sleep, and I was thinking about you."

[ensorceler]

The drumming ends with a vicious slap against the wood of the chair, and she stands as well. If she were to fall into old (future?) clichés, she might fling the wine into his face, but it's far more useful in her belly. Making her woozy.

"Be silent! I think I should know better, and so ought you. If the flesh is all you desire, then go tickle your fancy at a proper brothel."

[gottaknockhard]

Spike opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again before he says something heated that makes her change her mind about throwing the wine. 'The flesh' makes it sound a lot less romantic, but then when the word 'romantic' pops into his head, it sounds even more ridiculous.

He's been reading too much.

"I wanted to see how you were doing, that's all." He half turns away, before she can even tell him to leave, which he knows he should. "I got ahead of myself."

[ensorceler]

And isn't it so fitting that 'romantic' isn't even a word Anne would be familiar with? Romance would mean something else, but she knows the idea and would only laugh in his face once more and call him more the fool.

Not that she doesn't still demand romantic gestures when she so wishes.

"That is all." Her free hand grasps for his tie again, as if that would keep him from leaving. Not be desire, but by right. She didn't tell him to yet. "And so you awoke me on a whim, only to see me, and kiss me, and make me angry? Is that all? How little. How little."

[gottaknockhard]

He never seems to react properly when she grabs his tie. One would think he would know to stay out of her reach when he's pissing her off, but he always finds himself on the other end, staring at her sudden proximity.

"It seems like the usual, doesn't it?" And maybe there's a spark of defiance somewhere in there, although who knew what that could mean. Sometimes he pushes her just because he sees the opportunity.

[ensorceler]

Well he could always grab her back, or slap her hand away, or any number of options, really. It's almost fascinating how subservient he is to her while being simultaneously rebellious. But then while he is a fool and unable to understand the finer delicacies of courtly lives and royal expectations, his comprehension of the powers of words and the power of silence nearly matches her own, and maybe that is part of the reason she keeps him close. It has led to laughter and entertainment, but it has caused just as much hardship and pain.

"Games become dull and uninteresting if they are the same play each time. I expect such change."

[gottaknockhard]

"I'll remember to bring flowers next time."

What they mean for her, and what jumbled memories they bring up for him, make it a hard to define threat. But if she sees this as a game, it's better to regain some of that mystery he lost with honesty. Standing in the middle of her room with every reason not to be, he's happy to stay as far away from that as possible.

[ensorceler]

"Flowers I can find outside in no short supply through daily walks."

For now, at least. She abruptly releases his tie and gives a firm shove against his chest, though her expression remains indifferent.

"I have been given love letters, had poems and songs written for me, been bestowed jewels and animals and castles. Gold, silver, rubies, emeralds, pearls, diamonds. A crown. You...will have to do much better than mere flowers, Spike."

[gottaknockhard]

He nearly asks if he's in competition, but refrains for some contradictory reason of sparing her any painful memories that would ruin the evening. More likely, though, he's saving himself from being compared to... her husband, he guesses.

And if that is what she's doing, he'll do what he can not to acknowledge it.

"Are you asking me to be creative?"

[ensorceler]

She lifts gifts from all men, admirers, before and after she was queen. It was expected; gifts were a thing. Now nobody does them, nobody cares, and Anne struggles to but at least it's familiar. And she demands familiarity where she can find it.

"Do you think I am not worth such efforts and respects? Does anyone appreciate beauty any longer?"

[gottaknockhard]

If that doesn't sound like a trick question. Anne has a funny way of wanting his attention and demanding that no one see it. He should mind that more than he does.

"I'm not a poet." Simply put, as she's pointed out before. "But I wouldn't say I haven't made an effort."

[ensorceler]

She takes no prisoners.

"You have only made an effort to vex and humiliate me. I see no efforts to win my affection, and if you consider your actions as such, then it is no wonder your true love was as doomed as you."

[gottaknockhard]

The change comes like a flip of a switch, his jaw tightens and his expression hardens. With everything he put her through, and all his questionable intentions, he has the audacity to let her know when she's crossed a line.

"You're right again." He can't help how dark it comes out, but he pulls it back as he turns to leave as impulsively as he came. "Sorry for waking you, Majesty."

[ensorceler]

She near snarls, animalistic in her fury despite her regal stance and exaggerated tone. Would he really walk out on her? Let's find out.

"There! You are blind to it, your own blatant jests at my expense. You only use my title for convenience, for points, just as you tease my position . Mayhap you have finally discovered the answer to the riddle, but that gives you no right!"

[gottaknockhard]

Never say that she couldn't step up to the challenge of outmatching him whenever his temper flares. The safest thing to do is keep walking and hope she misses if she throws anything at his head.

So naturally, he pauses where he stands.

"How many points did I earn?"

[ensorceler]

And, most alarmingly, the delayed reaction is great like he might expect, but surely not in whatever perverse way he desires. These are her tears, brought on by sleeplessness and wine and the never-ending tourney that is her life even now, with nothing to do but wound and be wounded.

Anne's sob comes out muffled, because she can tell she is to cry before even uttering a sound. Her hand then moves to her eyes, covering them as if that would keep the weeping at bay. Everything, it is always everything, and he must continue to represent everything.

"Why do you torment me so?"