#teilo001

@teiloembry​:

[That’s… no the response he’s expecting. She looks like a spooked horse. Or better yet, a spooked deer. Wide eyes fearful and frozen in the headlights. Is it something he’d said or…? No, she seems distracted. Too distracted for this to be about him. In fact, he gets the impression she’s hardly registering what he’s said. At least not properly. 

He frowns gently, shakes his head.] Nothing—I was only kidding—[a slight tilt to his head.] You okay? 

.

[His voice sounds very far away. Sound, in general, has taken on a very distant quality, as if heard through water. Annie tries to focus on him, or on anything, but finds her gaze drifting inexorably around. The flashing lights cast peculiar shadows, and she doesn’t trust them. There was something there. Something in the shadows. And when the lights had blinked out and the shadow had, however briefly, eaten through, it felt like something tangible.] 

Uh...um... yes... [She doesn’t sound at all certain in her answer. Annie turns a little awkwardly, so that her back is against the wall. She could just be lolling there to take in the party, but she’s very clearly trying to keep her eye on... everything.] Did you see it? The lights?

@teiloembry​:

cvnstantin:

[Constantin was having the time of his life. Everyone was so happy, and it was just impossible to feel anything but thrilled to be here. He was especially pleased for Felix, who had obviously loved every moment of his performances. There’s a strange sort of feeling about the night, almost surreal, which is largely caused by Constantin’s eyesight. It’s improved vastly since his return, but it still often takes some time for his eyes to be able to focus. The disco ball and the twinkle lights look like softly burning fireworks, and everyone is laughing and dancing. It’s like being in the very crux of humanity, where it shines brightest, and he feels very close to everyone despite being seated alone for now.

He’s not taking part in the dancing. A part of him would like to, but he knows it wouldn’t be sensible. Now that Constantin is slowly being introduced to AP training, he feels more fatigued than ever even though his strength is growing daily. He already knows he’s not got the strength to dance, but is perfectly happy nursing his drink and watching people have fun. With the tables pressed against the wall, there’s not vast amounts of available seating, so it doesn’t surprise him when someone takes the seat near him.

Constantin tries to put his glass down so he can say hello, but makes the mistake that’s ingrained in his muscle memory and proving difficult to unlearn: he just tries to put it down in midair. Naturally, the glass (near-empty) tumbles down to the surface of the table, while Constantin’s gaze goes up to try and find it when he realises it’s not where he left it. It takes a moment to process what he’s just done, at which point he looks at the table where the mercifully unbroken glass lies on its side.]

Jesus fuck. [He shakes his head at himself, then address the person beside him – it feels important to clarify.] I am not drunk, you have my promise.

[The bang of the glass next to him makes Teilo jump, pulling his attention away from where it’d been idly watching Alois entangled with Felix by the bar, limbs curled around the petite frame, lips roaming his neck and jaw. The expression on Teilo’s face is bemused, a little curious—is that new? It must be, because it’s the first Teilo’s heard of it. Then again—how much of their love lives do they actually talk about together? How much do they purposely avoid? Nonetheless, they do make a cute pair—both altogether too attractive, of course, and so it… certainly makes sense.

By some miracle, the glass doesn’t break, and the spill is minor. He tilts his head in slight confusion at the comment, but as he snatches a bar rag from a nearby table, he slides the stranger a bit of a grin, shaking his head.] Not to worry—I was making no assumptions. [The table hastily wiped, Teilo sets the rag aside, and turns to the man properly.] You alright? 

.

[Constantin lets out a low chuckle, at his own expense. He feels like a bit of a mess, always, although Teilo didn’t seem to be bothered. He’s never sure how much to explain himself and why he is so clumsy. Sometimes he thinks it’s better to get it out the way early, as it inevitably comes up at some point, but it’s also incredibly depressing. The wonder of space travel often gets buried beneath the sheer horror of someone being trapped in space for six years. On balance, he decides it’s probably better to gloss over things.] 

Da, da. No harm is done, except maybe for my pride. Thank you. [He inclines his head towards where Teilo is wiping up the spill. Costin had been too dazed, and momentarily annoyed at himself, to act that fast.] I can buy you a drink for your troubles?

@teiloembry​

[It’s peculiar that Angel wound up in such a quiet house. He’s not sure what it means. Maybe their sorting system is faulty. People tend to gather around the dining tables by house, and Angel finds himself most commonly among other Brinks, and he finds himself most commonly making all the conversation.

It’s possible that most people just prefer not to talk over breakfast, while they’re still waking up. But it’s not a problem for Angel, who had taken a cat nap around 4am and spent the rest of the morning journalling. He’s got plenty of energy, and is happily addressing the table at large through mouthfuls of toast with jam, and sips of dandelion nettle tea. Here and there, people ask questions or make comments, to which Angel grasps vigorously.] 

No, no! That ain’t what I’m sayin’ at all. They’re not monsters, no, what a dreadful notion. They’re just sick. It ain’t natural for humans to have those sorts of powers, is all I’m sayin’. We all should appreciate that the human form is already perfect, there’s no need for enhanced senses or telepathy. If I can take that sickness away from them, ain’t it my duty to help?

[Rhetorical question. He already knows it is. His duty, his right. Angel is addressing the table at large, so he doesn’t take particular note when Dante lays his coffee cup down with a fraction more force than strictly necessary, and he doesn’t notice the way the doctor shakes his head minutely at the young, curly haired man opposite Angel as he takes his leave.]