closed.

[anklets]

Date & Time: October 18th
Location: a virtual simulation room, setting: some 19th century England town
Characters: Allen Walker & Lenalee Lee
Summary: a dramatic turnabout from the norm: sad exorcists. that's really all what needs to be said.
Warnings: sad exorcists?... possible violence

She's been terribly homesick lately, so, tired of bowing beneath that painful missing, home is what Lenalee has asked the AI to give her, and resigned herself to the difficulty that is conversing at length with any artificial intelligence.

Things like "Not quite so rainy, it isn't Exsilium" (it isn't Exsilium), and wistfully murmured specifications: the roads are still cobblestone, they sound so lightly when horses draw their carriages over them. Quiet dark alleys, the ones she learned to be wary of for the Akuma which hide in their shadows (and they do, even now, so isn't she just laughably awful).

It comes close, but never quite dead-on.

Lenalee can't stand to ask it give her the world, after all. So when the people have been conjured and their faces strike her as wholly unfamiliar, she deems it good enough, and quietly taps out an invitation on her tablet which dings in Allen's inbox moments later:


spend some time at home with me? i've done something awfully foolish and if it's quite alright with you, i'd rather not suffer through it on my own.

it's the simulation room furthest from the door.

Comments

[debtor]

['Spend some time at home' simply isn't a feasible request, and it's almost alarming when it's coming from her. 'Awfully foolish' and 'suffer through it' are alarming, and he's out his door not a minute after he received the message. He doesn't see the point in replying via text; he arrives shortly after.

The simulation that greets him shouldn't be a surprise, he should have figured out on the way what she meant, but he's still caught off-guard. Gasps audibly, even. He may have spent the past nine months in an England of sorts, but it wasn't theirs - nor is this, but it's... a near fascimile. No question. It's her doing.

And there's a dull sort of ache in his chest as he enters, taking in the cobblestones and the buildings and people in familiar dress. Close, but still fake.]

Lenalee?

[anklets]

[If it were any closer than not quite, she wouldn't be able to handle it, anyway. Amongst the quiet Victorian men, women, and children, Lenalee cuts an oddly modern image, for her selfishness does not extend as far as asking for her uniform back.]

Hey. [ a smile, sitting on her face as though she'd practiced it ] I'm sorry if I worried you.

[debtor]

Oh-

[There she is. She... doesn't appear harmed, at least, but he thinks better of asking her if she's alright. Instead, he steps further inside, expression lightening.]

No, it's all right. I think I should have guessed... [ he glances over the simulation, avoiding the eyes of the virtual crowd, before falling back to hers. ] I'd be happy to join you, Lenalee.

[anklets]

Would you really?

[It isn't that she doubts him, for Allen exceeds expectations in everything he does, always, and that's a frightening thing-- but she can't pretend this is a matter of "being happy to", for either of them.]

I feel like such a homesick idiot.

[debtor]

[When is it ever, for either of them, really. Honesty just wouldn't sound as nice.]

You're not an idiot for feeling homesick. It... [ he shakes his head. ] I'd really be worried if you weren't.

[She's her, after all. He misses it more than anything else, and he's sure 'home' means so much more to her. And however she chooses to hold herself together, he intends to be there for her.]

It looks nice.

[anklets]

[Breaching some of this distance herself, to gauge him from what she considers to be the ideal distance-- up close-- but she's so subtle about it, you see, doesn't even appear to be inspecting him at all.]

Honestly, I'm surprised at how much I could remember to mention... Little things that didn't seem important at the time, and yet- I couldn't help asking for them.

[debtor]

[There isn't much to find. His smile is plain, pleasant enough, clearly meant to alleviate any concerns she may have. A carefully crafted facade, perhaps, but it's continued to serve him well. And his eyes remain on her, rather than her eerily detailed English town.]

Would you like to show me around?

[anklets]

[She will maintain, fiercely and despite any and all opposition, that he's a little too wan, thinner about the face, but these are things any friend would be when viewed through her lens, and anyway, she's more interested in the strange parallel she feels now.

Give him a tour, was it?]

Alright.

surprise 2-parter because i'm an idiot

[anklets]

[This seems like a perfectly thoughtful and plotted-out direction to take...]

There's an ice cream parlour down this way. I'm not sure how fulfilling it might be, but surely the atmosphere will remain the same.

[...and, because it's Lenalee, it of course is.]

[debtor]

[He's following along beside her. And on cue, brightening up at the mention of food.

And then he remembers, oh right-]

Can we eat simulated ices?

[anklets]

[Allen Walker, you remain the easiest Exorcist to cheer. She's becoming dependent upon it. Doe eyes!]

We'll find out, won't we? If not, we'll fake it.

[debtor]

[Only when there is actual physical food involved, though.

Somehow, the idea of pretending to eat ice cream is a bit dismaying.]

I'm not certain I could bear it... [ fake food.

they really are in dire straits. ]

[anklets]

I'm sorry.

[Pats his shoulder; she's trying really very hard to push some enthusiasm into this. The "almost" quality to this place would be too difficult, otherwise.]

If you like, we can skip the parlour.

[debtor]

[Shaking his head, straightening up again.]

No, no, I mean - there's only one way to find out, right?

[And she clearly put a lot of effort into this.]

I'm sure it'll be more convincing than that stuff they've labeled 'ice cream' in the cafeteria. [ astronaut ice cream is a lie. ]

[anklets]

You've tried that?

[Of course he has. Carrying on:] Then, if it doesn't hold its own, I'll treat you when we've the chance for something better.

[debtor]

[Do you even have to ask.]

We could try it on a mission.

Have you been on one, recently?

[anklets]

[ weak smile ] No. I've had two roommates to take care of, it eats up a lot of time!

[debtor]

[And he realizes now that he hasn't seen Caeser or Oz in... a while, really.]

How are they?

[anklets]

Reminding me of home, lately.

[There's a note of self-deprecation in there, all mixed with a sudden surfacing exhaustion. There's no pretense when she takes his arm this time.]

Caesar's spyglass blinded him a few days ago.

[debtor]

[He gets the impression right away, that that isn't a prelude to anything particularly pleasant. Alas, he's right.]

His-

[Spyglass? It takes him a second to recall, but he's seen it before. His weapon, wasn't it?]

How did it blind him?! Will he be all right?

[anklets]

He'll be fine. [ quickly, she has no desire to heap more worry on to Allen's plate (it shan't be nearly as nourishing as what he needs) ] It- evolved, while we were speaking. He tried to show me how and pushed himself too far.

[debtor]

What sort of evolution was it-? I didn't know they could do something like that...

[He's not unfamiliar with pushing a freshly-evolved weapon too far, of course (rebound sucks), but this is the first he's heard of one of the Initiative's weapons really hurting its wielder. And a spyglass is quite different from a parasitic Innocence. They're not... supposed to do that, are they?]

[anklets]

Neither did I. [ compelled by the gradual-drip of thoughtful contemplation, she's slowed her pace a considerable amount ] He could show me what he was looking at, although we had to be in physical contact somehow. It was as if I were using the spyglass the way he could.

[debtor]

[Slows the match her.]

You could see through his eyes? [That sounds.

Disorienting. He could see how it might come in handy, still - but not if it blinds him.]

I'm sorry, I hope he recovers soon.

[anklets]

We were told it ought to be temporary, but.

None of them are Matron.

[The doctors, and she leaves him to take that as he will.]