i'm reaching for the clouds

[godshattering]

Who: Claude and various
When: January + early February (pre-event)
Where: The Horizon, Aquila, TBA
What: Catch all
Warnings: None currently, will add/mark as needed


( Closed starters in the comments below. Feel free to find me at indech, arboria#1862, or by PM at any time to plot something! )

Comments

[theidlemaiden]

[ Apparently it doesn't take her long to actually become a little offended at what he says. Her eyes narrow when he places a hand on her shoulder because she has a distinct feeling that she knows where this is going. It doesn't take her long to confirm that yes, it went exactly where she thought it would go. Her mouth falls open in a perfect little 'o' and the outrage waiting for Claude is imminent spurred by his mirth and mere moments away from him tying off her braid.

But if they were being honest, she does drool but only when she's really, really tired! The snoring is however is all Claude's doing, she's certain of it even though she's usually the one who sleeps far more between the two. She channels her outrage into the most fierce pout as she turns from side to side to examine Claude's handiwork. The examining is more principle than anything. She has no doubt that it's probably flawless — she had schooled him for many months until it was to her liking — although he already had some level of how to do it before she had met him.

It's hard not to admire his deft hands and the way her hair weaves in and out of itself. If she didn't know any better, she could have very well braided it herself. It's almost enough to make her forgive him for airing out her dirty secret to a room of just them. Almost.

Quick as a flash she climbs up onto the chair, standing up on her knees. She gives him a smile so saturated and sweet that he'll know something is coming immediately and she hopes it put the fear into him. ]

Amazing work as always. [ She reaches out her hands, grabbing a hold of both of his cheeks and stretching them out, emphasizing each word. ] How did I get so lucky to have the loudest snorer in Aquila braiding my hair?

[godshattering]

[ Hilda's investigation of the braid in all its finished glory is enough to make the smile on his face widen a bit more. For a second it's easy to believe things are normal, or close to it; if he doesn't look away from the mirror then maybe they're really in Garreg Mach after all. But of course they aren't because she abruptly turns, he's reminded about the corset digging into his side when he takes a half step back on instinct.

For all his quick reflexes, Claude's not fast enough to dodge Hilda's hands on his face. He also makes the mistake of grimacing which likely makes it all the easier for her to grab on and tug just like he knows she's going to even as he's already reaching to lightly swat the backs of her hands like it'll change his fate. ]

Hey, leave my roguishly beautiful face in one piece, will you? I'm kind of attached to it. Also, I definitely need it to keep charming everyone I meet.

[ As usual, his protests are more for the sake of it than any active distress which might also be clear from the fact that there's no small amount of amusement in his nonexistent attempts to escape Hilda's (literal) clutches. Still, he's also going to sigh heavily as though this is deeply troublesome to him and her stretching of his face isn't also conveniently hiding his smirk. ]

Way to add salt to my wounds by pretending like you braided your own hair with that comment about your snoring title! Might I remind you I'm wearing a dress and now you're just adding to my unending torment?

[theidlemaiden]

Oh, Claude. You’re lucky that you’re such a charmer too and that I like you.

[ She continues to pull and stretch his face like it’s dough, a genuine laugh beginning to form in the back of her throat and at the corner of her eyes. For all her boisterous claims that anyone would be lucky to have a friend like her, Hilda can’t help but feel deep down that she’s the one that’s lucky to have him. Very few would willingly put themselves through this or put up with her and her princess tendencies. It’s better to just accept it because thinking about it sends her down a spiral of anxiety.

The prickle at the back of her eyes signal that tears are going to show soon if she doesn’t stop thinking about how moments like these were so important to her. Crying over sentimental things had never been a common occurrence before the war, but she supposed that this was just another way it was changing her. She isn’t entirely sure she likes it. The thought is enough to make her stop, telling herself that it’s because she doesn’t want to make his cheeks too red and her hands are cramping anyway. It’s not the thought of dying and never being able to spend time with him like this again and it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with crying and potentially ruining his date. It would never be either of those things. ]

Here I am trying to pay you a compliment and you’re just going on complaining! [ She lets out a sigh, throwing her hands up to the side in a very similar way that he does. ] I’ll let it slide this time because I don’t want to be the reason you’re late for your date. [ True to her word, she smoothly hops off the chair and brushes her own dress before doing some last minute checks on Claude’s dress as if her pulling his face had somehow effected the clothing. ]

You’ll tell me all about it later, won’t you? [ Her fingers fiddle listlessly at the bustle for the sake of looking busy. Her voice is nothing but light and conversational too in an effort to not go back down the slippery slope she had just been tugged back from. ] Also, I can make myself scarce tonight if you’d rather. I don’t have to sleep in your bed starting tonight.

[ The nightmares aren’t consistent anyway. ]

it's a wrap!

[godshattering]

I'm complaining because you're trying to rearrange my face!

[ Not a real complaint; also, not even remotely possible to do - he's pretty sure - but for good measure that's not going to stop Claude from bringing both hands up to his face after he lets go to pat it tentatively with his fingertips as if he's expecting things to have actually moved. Obviously they haven't, so he drops his shoulders in exaggerated relief. ]

Well, it seems to all still be in place so I suppose I have no choice but to continue liking you, too. I was worried there for a minute.

[ It goes without saying he was no such thing, but. He'd caught that expression flickering across Hilda's face again, another one that seems like it might align with from earlier. Or maybe it's something that needs to be layered over it for a clearer picture, a way to bring it all into focus, like a stack of stained glass fragments forming a different view than when laid out separately. Something Claude's no stranger to himself in operating the same way, and as Hilda smooths out his dress for him when he was about to do that next he watches her carefully beneath the too easy smile on his face.

All the better to catch her hands in his when she lets got of the bustle and possibly starts to step away to keep her there. ]

I will. But whether it's tonight or not, Hilda, I meant what I said. You don't have to ask to join me. Show up whenever you need to, and I'll be there for you.

[ There's more he could say - likely should say - but Hilda's probably right about not running late when he'd had the idea to show up to the restaurant in question first. So with one last squeeze of her hands he lets go to tackle pulling on those very high boots much different than his usual ones or his greaves from another life to round out the outfit, and then he's off with one last wink over his shoulder Hilda's direction as he walks out the door. ]