My better self was always born tomorrow (open)

[ring_for_giles]

Who: Giles & you!
When: Early - mid September
Where: Various
Warnings: The usual changeling warnings + depression



As nights became obsessed with introspection (redbud, purple hyacinth) [Bobby B's]

What had meant to be a quiet evening to himself with a good book for company has quickly become something far more melancholy. He's ensconced himself in a back corner of Bobby B's, book long since forgotten as he stares out into space. Pen in one hand as if he might write in his notebook at any moment, though he hasn't found any words to write beyond the first line, put to by rote more than by thought. His other hand rests on the side of his neck, holding something hidden beneath his collar.

Should anyone approach, he hurriedly returns the notebook to his pocket. But a brief glimpse of the words 'My dearest Dot, might well be spotted before he does so.

The days a contravention of reflection (protea, ivy) [Library]

Mr Ainsel, the little black and white cat that haunts the library, is a little more insistent than usual. Meowing loudly at anyone that crosses its path, and slamming full-bodied into anyone it has more than a passing familiarity with. Demanding pats. And snuggles. And treats. And anything else it could possibly get.

Within the id a stranger I did form [Around]

He doesn't know where he is, well, having explored the place rather thoroughly he knows he's a ship. But he still doesn't know its destination, or how he got here. There's two logical explanations, either Oswald decided on a last minute trip to America or the like, or he let Dot talk him into something inadvisable again.
His money's on the latter.
Now if he could just find either of them, or anyone else he knows, everything might start to feel a little less... uncanny.

To any onlookers, it's almost as if there's a new passenger aboard. One that may look passingly familiar if not quite right. Like Giles, if he were entirely human, if he had dark brown eyes rather than piercing green, and if he were more than a foot shorter.

During the day, he moves between standing out on the deck, watching the ocean and trying not to think too hard about what exactly is going on, and searching the library for a single non-fiction book.

In the evening, he gravitates towards Stan the Man. Where he sits with a fancy cocktail he isn't really drinking, and pretends that he's perfectly fine. He'd much rather retire early, but he doesn't know what his sleeping arrangements are any more than how he got here, and if, as he suspects, he's not here for work, then it's where he'll be expected to be.

A lily on the waters of a storm (Wildcard)

Come find me in the discord if you want to plot something else out!

Comments

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri's just going to pretend he knows what thimble theatre is.

"Of course. I'll only be a minute."

And he's out the door, letting it close fully before he checks his phone ... okay, and taking a moment to lean against the wall and hyperventilate. Okay. Okay. It's fine. He's fine. They're fine.

Yes

[ring_for_giles]

He raises an eyebrow, Oswald had just said he'd send Giles to fetch anything he needed, but he's not going to specifically call out the contradiction. Mostly because it's useful to him.

"Your friend Mr Blaiddyd seems... interesting." He says carefully, and then, much softer, gentler, he continues "How long have you been here, sir, truthfully?"

[ossie_oswald]

The message sent and Dimitri out of the room, he slips his phone back into his inside jacket pocket.

"He's a sweet boy," Ossie corrects just slightly, "he's been very good to me. But the truth is... I don't... know."

This is going to have to be the performance of a lifetime, and he hopes the circumstances will smooth out any raw edges on it.

"I'm unsure how precisely I came to be aboard. Or how long it's been. The days just... blend into one another- and you know how dreadful I am at keeping a calendar. I just... don't know."

A small pause, and he looks up at Giles.

"You don't suppose I've... done something wrong, do you?"

[ring_for_giles]

He'd believe near enough anything with Ossie looking at him like that. It's not the mortal mind's ability to smooth over inconsistencies this time, but the willful ignorance of someone desperately in love with someone they know they can't have.

He clasps his hands behind his back, to stop himself from reaching out, from cupping Ossie's face, from kissing him.

"No, of course you haven't, this isn't your fault." He has no basis for it, but his belief is steadfast nonetheless, this is more akin to a hurricane than divine punishment. Awful, but not targeted.

His lip quirks into the smallest trace of a smile, "At least there aren't any undesirable engagements to be 'fished out of' as you might say, sir." A pause "There aren't, are there?"

[ossie_oswald]

It's so hard to be this close to him and pretend like he doesn't know. Like the game has already been revealed- them circling around each other, making eyes across the room. If he'd asked back then, would Giles have had him? If they'd arrived here prior to Arcadia, to somewhere their roles don't matter. Christ, Giles actually believes this isn't his fault, doesn't he.

"No no, I've managed to keep myself quite out of trouble. Mostly. At least, free of engagements."

Ossie swallows a little, almost disbelieving he's about to say it. It's as if he really is this old face, still governing those immutable barriers between the parts of his life. As if saying it will break the spell.

"There have been a few gentlemen who have been rather diverting company while I've been here."

[ring_for_giles]

Nails dig into hands still clasped behind his back in an attempt to stifle any outward reaction.

His first thought is that it's simply a poor choice of words, that Oswald doesn't know what he's implying, but that's unfair. No matter what other people have said, Ossie is smarter than that.

So his whirling thoughts — along with his eyes — flicker to the door Dimitri had exited from. No, 'he's a sweet boy' had rung more of something paternal than anything, but it does lead the train of thought further back. 'He's spoken very highly of you', was that-? No, he can't let himself hope that.

He clears his throat, floundering for something to say that won't betray the weight of his interest, his feelings. If his hesitation hasn't done so already.

"Is that... so, sir?" He says slowly, painfully slowly. And a million questions die on his lips, though they're likely clear enough in his face, and clearer still in the glamour he doesn't know he's shedding. Why are you telling me this?

The tangled web of his thoughts return to 'Dorian', have they...? It seems more likely.

It seems a dangerous line of thought.

He's never been quite so glad he wasn't born a man.

[ossie_oswald]

Ossie has never been very good at denying himself what he wants. Only with Giles. Only because he couldn't have him. And now he does. He longs to shed the ruse entirely, to reveal all that they've already done, the oaths they've made to each other, and joy of having Giles in his life. That never-ending joy, the pleasure that one can never adjust to. His the way his own heart is, not a possession but as one part of a whole.

He knows he has to tread carefully, but... not too carefully. Thank the Wyrd for the now-familiar taste of glamour radiating from him. Would that he could press his mouth to it.

"You're fish-fed and astute enough that I thought you would have had the whole thing... you know, puzzled out by now," even though he knows Giles never did.

"You mean the world to me. And there's no person alive I would rather have here with me."

He lays his hand out, palm-up.

[ring_for_giles]

It's that simple, is it really that simple?

If he thinks any harder he's going to talk himself out of it. Better just to act.

He steps forward, one hand coming to rest in Ossie's open palm. Half-moon indents visible on the back of it. Other hand brushing against Ossie's cheek, finding a home on the back of his neck.

And, before he has the chance to talk himself out of it, he leans in. His lips meeting Ossie's. Gentle, and filled with a confidence he doesn't really have

[ossie_oswald]

It always is. You'd be amazed at what they let you get away with. Ossie's already smiling by the time Giles kisses him. There's no need to act through it. Whether or not the kiss has any resemblance to Dorian is the least of his concerns. Ossie just wants him.

When they separate, he grins in that idiot way he used to back in the day, when the corners of his eyes could still wrinkle.

"I had an excess of time to think about what I'd say if I saw you again. Or, well, I can only assume I did. I'm sorry I didn't do a better job of it all."

[ring_for_giles]

"You were perfect."

He kisses Ossie again, just because he can. Because he wants desperately, wants everything he can get, but he must have some restraint. Not least because this is Dimitri's cabin and he should be coming back in the near future.

"How many people have you told about me?" Giles asks before he can stop himself, an idea worming its way into his head. A way to deal with the two halves of his life clashing from the opposite direction than he was expecting.

[ossie_oswald]

A genuine flush creeps over his face.

"Er... well, I mean-" he does a sort of shaky hand movement.

"Everyone I've met? Which is, as you may expect... quite a number of our fellows aboard."

[ring_for_giles]

"Of course you have."

The fondness is clear in his voice, even if it's tinged with the very slightest hint of disappointment.

"I had a... passing thought, let's say. That perhaps we could pretend our stations weren't quite so different for a while, since no-one else is retaining staff." He brushes back an errant curl from Ossie's face, "But that hardly matters, sir."

He'll just have to fall back on the original plan: explain everything to 'Dorian' and beg him to hope he'll play along and keep the secret, or at the very least that he won't bring the house of cards toppling down on Dot as well.