[ It's too late, Claude. She's already all worked up. Though thankfully it doesn't come with any outward fits - instead it looks like the girl is struggling with a whole lot of awkward cropped up energy right now, unsure of what to do with all of it.
It means she doesn't reply right away. Not even when it seems like he's done talking for the moment. Ange stares at him, but it's the sort of stare that indicates she's trying to think of what to say here in the face of.. well, in the face of all of this.
It's a lot, after all. ]
What exactly are you trying to say? If you're such an honest man, then why don't you just tell me what you are?
What am I. That's a loaded question, isn't it? If you stopped anyone in the middle of the street and demanded to know the answer to that, I doubt you'd get very satisfying answers. I find that most people don't have a proper estimation of themselves.
[ He crosses his arms, a little charmed by how utterly flustered she seems to be. ]
But okay. I'll tell you what I am. I'm a guy who got fucked over by the same high society I'm sure you're part of, through no fault of my own, thanks to the transgressions that happened well before my birth. Now? I'm just a man. I drink a little. I gamble a little. And I spend time with people who wish to spend time with me. I break no laws, I break no rules, and I have very little interest in dragging anyone down with me. Anyone who does, comes willingly, but people would much rather have someone to blame.
It's not an angry frown. Maybe some of the fluster from before is still lingering, so that might be part of it, but the frown makes her look much more like she's really just thinking about what he's saying until she slowly speaks up. ]
You're wrong about me.
[ If he says she is wrong about him - on some levels, anyway - then she should point out the same thing. Even if it sounded more like an assumption on his end, it's a wrong assumption. So wrong, in fact, that it confuses her a little bit. ]
I'm not part of high society at all. My parents died when I was really young, and my big brother has been raising me since then. We don't have much money. [ .. but that's what makes the assumption interesting, right?
Does she seems like she could be from high society here, like some of the rich girls she's seen around? Ange has never really thought about it.
(And of course she simply hasn't considered whatsoever that the impression she gives off with her usual memories is still part of her even in this new life, where her background no longer has anything to do with high society. Something sticking to her that doesn't belong anymore.) ]
[ Claude's many things. But he's not an absolute monster. He's not going to antagonize a young girl, still not yet of age, who's telling him about the young and tragic deaths of her parents. For all of Claude's difficulties with his own parents - for all that he has neither seen nor spoken to them in years, save for awkward run-ins in public space - they are still alive, after all. It's true that Ange has the bearing of someone much higher class, that her reservations are things that the lower class generally don't bear, aware of Claude's status as a bartender as a necessary evil in an increasingly exhausting world, but that doesn't mean she has to be rich. Perhaps they're religious. Conservative. They've never liked Claude much either. ]
Now we're even, I'd say. You had misconceptions about me, and I had misconceptions about you. [ He raises a brow at her. ] Do you think you can admit that much?
[ Most people could probably agree to some extent. And it's not that Ange doesn't agree - factually speaking Claude is correct, even though Ange could argue him on some technicalities of this if she wanted to. But she doesn't really care for those semantics right now. No, the way she's still frowning isn't about that.
It's about that question. Because Claude is definitely hitting a nail on the head here.
Ange is notoriously bad at admitting she's wrong. Apparently it's a trait that carries over regardless of memories, and it's as if the redhead teen in front of Claude looks kind of physically uncomfortable at the very idea of having to admit she got something wrong.
It takes a few moments before she can even say: ]
I.. guess I've been talking to you for a little while now, and I haven't died yet.
[ Definitely the most indirect way of admitting it, but.. apparently this is the best she can do, Claude. Even just saying this makes the girl look like she might just be about to spontaneously combust on the spot. ]
It may shock you to learn that most people don't, [ Claude says with a wink. He'll take it. It's as close to an admission as he's going to get and, well -- she's just a kid. He remembers being particularly obstinate at that age too, especially around those he didn't particularly wish to spend time around. And most people here don't want to spend time with him. He doesn't take it personally; he's tricky company, after all. ]
Anyway, if you take any piece of advice from me, which I'm sure you won't, try to keep an open mind about people. They might surprise you. In ways good and bad. [ He pauses, glancing back over at the stall where he'd had that vision... though a nice combative conversation did wonders to keep his busy mind occupied. ]
Hopefully good, probably bad. That's just the way of the world.
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expiationlogs2024-03-09 08:37 am
no subject
It means she doesn't reply right away. Not even when it seems like he's done talking for the moment. Ange stares at him, but it's the sort of stare that indicates she's trying to think of what to say here in the face of.. well, in the face of all of this.
It's a lot, after all. ]
What exactly are you trying to say? If you're such an honest man, then why don't you just tell me what you are?
no subject
[ He crosses his arms, a little charmed by how utterly flustered she seems to be. ]
But okay. I'll tell you what I am. I'm a guy who got fucked over by the same high society I'm sure you're part of, through no fault of my own, thanks to the transgressions that happened well before my birth. Now? I'm just a man. I drink a little. I gamble a little. And I spend time with people who wish to spend time with me. I break no laws, I break no rules, and I have very little interest in dragging anyone down with me. Anyone who does, comes willingly, but people would much rather have someone to blame.
And you, little miss? What are you?
no subject
[ Ange frowns.
It's not an angry frown. Maybe some of the fluster from before is still lingering, so that might be part of it, but the frown makes her look much more like she's really just thinking about what he's saying until she slowly speaks up. ]
You're wrong about me.
[ If he says she is wrong about him - on some levels, anyway - then she should point out the same thing. Even if it sounded more like an assumption on his end, it's a wrong assumption. So wrong, in fact, that it confuses her a little bit. ]
I'm not part of high society at all. My parents died when I was really young, and my big brother has been raising me since then. We don't have much money. [ .. but that's what makes the assumption interesting, right?
Does she seems like she could be from high society here, like some of the rich girls she's seen around? Ange has never really thought about it.
(And of course she simply hasn't considered whatsoever that the impression she gives off with her usual memories is still part of her even in this new life, where her background no longer has anything to do with high society. Something sticking to her that doesn't belong anymore.) ]
no subject
[ Claude's many things. But he's not an absolute monster. He's not going to antagonize a young girl, still not yet of age, who's telling him about the young and tragic deaths of her parents. For all of Claude's difficulties with his own parents - for all that he has neither seen nor spoken to them in years, save for awkward run-ins in public space - they are still alive, after all. It's true that Ange has the bearing of someone much higher class, that her reservations are things that the lower class generally don't bear, aware of Claude's status as a bartender as a necessary evil in an increasingly exhausting world, but that doesn't mean she has to be rich. Perhaps they're religious. Conservative. They've never liked Claude much either. ]
Now we're even, I'd say. You had misconceptions about me, and I had misconceptions about you. [ He raises a brow at her. ] Do you think you can admit that much?
no subject
It's about that question. Because Claude is definitely hitting a nail on the head here.
Ange is notoriously bad at admitting she's wrong. Apparently it's a trait that carries over regardless of memories, and it's as if the redhead teen in front of Claude looks kind of physically uncomfortable at the very idea of having to admit she got something wrong.
It takes a few moments before she can even say: ]
I.. guess I've been talking to you for a little while now, and I haven't died yet.
[ Definitely the most indirect way of admitting it, but.. apparently this is the best she can do, Claude. Even just saying this makes the girl look like she might just be about to spontaneously combust on the spot. ]
no subject
Anyway, if you take any piece of advice from me, which I'm sure you won't, try to keep an open mind about people. They might surprise you. In ways good and bad. [ He pauses, glancing back over at the stall where he'd had that vision... though a nice combative conversation did wonders to keep his busy mind occupied. ]
Hopefully good, probably bad. That's just the way of the world.