[That's an odd apology, and D'Artagnan furrows his eyebrows, the twist to his mouth minutely sceptical and mostly judging.]
I've no quarrel with you rejecting my opinions. You need not apologise for it.
[Charles will reap the consequences for that on his own, for not listening to anything D'Artagnan may have to say on the gangs, and that is a satisfactory end for the slight of ignoring him. He sighs. A short irritable noise, regarding Charles's further comments on that.]
I was unaware we'd needed working anything out. You understand we're barely acquaintances, do you not?
[This is not a friendship in need of tending to, there's been little established as far as D'Artagnan is concerned.]
Yes, but that's a first step to something more. [And reasons to care feel enough for him to want to make effort here.]
I want to make an effort for that. I won't if you're uninterested, but that's my intention now. [Right now, he doesn't see any reason why he can't, or shouldn't, try.] It would be pleasant, but I don't think us understanding one another perfectly is required for it.
[Because at this point, he's not sure if that's possible. Especially as D'Artagnan seems to be taking his admission of not liking how things went between them in the Down, as some kind of accusation of wrongdoing.]
[D'Artagnan snorts loudly then, and crosses his arms at his ribs. The latter motion is not in a display of anger or upset, but coincides as if it may be, he's simply feeling more effects from the treatment given, and needing to physically keep hold of himself lest he... approach Charles in an unwanted fashion just as they're attempting some unnecessary, but strangely not unappreciated, reconciliation.]
I can't require that of anyone... I am, moderately, interested.
[His teeth press into his lower lip, and he looks away, watching the other side of the street.]
I'd thought you insightful, despite your peculiarities. Well, before you'd displayed them. You wished to help me once, and I...
[It's something difficult to speak on now, after his behaviour in the alley, and he feels deeply, penetratingly, exposed, flayed before this man through no intent of his own.]
I don't believe myself to be as unwell as you've claimed, but... I am... I've not found solutions to my... struggles, presently.
[The consenting ('moderately' is more than enough consent), but 'hmph' reaction he's getting earns a curious look. It's not immediately offensive, while he's resolving himself to try to be open-minded about what, coming from other people in the city he's met, would be a reaction of disgust or offence in need of addressing.
He's not affected by being told he's peculiar; Even though he doesn't understand the judgment, enough people have always reacted to him in that way that he knows it's true.]
I'm willing to talk about things like that. [But he thinks it's clear their approach to anything like it with this man hasn't gone well so far. Still, it's something D'Artagnan does seem to be telling him it's what he likes the idea of.] But I don't want to give an impression that I think a friendship has to be about something like that, always.
[Particularly after his Finder thrashed him so thoroughly for it and made him rethink his instincts, and then his efforts with Elle to try and be more casual. The latter of which were inspired by the man in front of him now. He's more okay, currently, with the idea of working towards a connection that's more about respect and general good will.
Or even (god forbid) fun. Somehow.]
We can also... 'chill'. [An expression he immediately regrets coming out of his mouth, because the man may not understand it.]
[He meets Charles's eyes again, eyebrows slightly knitted in confusion. Certainly, that's what had intrigued this man about him, D'Artagnan presumes. Charles didn't wish for fighting or violence, or a general discussion, but had been asking questions of his responses to things and trying to unearth more of it. He makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs. It matters not, in the end. 'Chill' though, receives another stare of puzzlement, and then D'Artagnan glances at the snow.]
... I am hot?
[That might be a strange response, he feels, and he should've simply asked what the word meant, but he's continually frustrated by his ignorance in such matters, and sometimes he wishes to pretend he understands, more difficult when context is not provided, as it hasn't been here.]
[This is curious, and also feels like some kind of attempt to be of use to him? To centre his own wants between them in some way? He's not sure there, but it feels odd.]
It does interest me, but I've realized that talking to people like that can make them feel like they need to be 'fixed'. I don't think that's a good state of mind to put people in. As I said, I am willing, but I want to aim to be better in it if that's what you'd like to do. [Supportive, rather than pushy. He does think shortcomings and limitations are worth pushing on, especially if they're causing problems for people, but he now thinks there have to be better ways to do it than what he has been doing: taking people apart before they've even consented to it or knew it was about to happen. Charles shakes his head at his own regrets there, and then glances down at their shifting icon on the map on his device to gauge their route. Not too far away.
And, as he thought, he's confused D'Artagnan with informal wording he's not a big fan of using, either.]
'Chill' is a word [...young, usually informal...frequently irreverent...] people in the city use, that means spending time together without needing to accomplish anything in particular. Fun, more or less. [Which is the un-fun way to explain that.]
[D'Artagnan scoffs quietly at that statement. It's a delicate thing to approach, he does understand that much, and he's been viciously resentful in the past over accusations there is something broken within him, even if he acknowledges that privately. Charles may be willing, but for D'Artagnan this is where that conversation ends. He'll not pursue it, will not claim it as something he'd like to do. He looks down at the device as Charles does, but he's long since recognised the streets and he knows where they are. The townhouse will be in sight after another right turn and half way down that block.]
Why need there be a word for that separation...
[That's mostly musing to himself, but there was less clear delineation between such things for him in his past. He can enjoy himself in the drive for accomplishment as much as he can in spending a night in a tavern.]
[His feelings aired and his offer on the table, Charles is fine with leaving things there, too. He's not going to push anything while he's not at his best, and this man just came through the SLUT centre, too.]
I don't know, honestly. [A lot of slang feels to him like it more confuses things than anything else.
As they approach the garage, Charles turns off his device and tucks it away in a pocket of his coat. He reaches a hand up to correct what feels like his very wind-tousled hair in preparation to start heading back to the hospital again.]
If something like this comes up again sometime, please know that I welcome you contacting me directly.
[As D'Artagnan opens the garage, slowly, to avoid a squeaking, and just enough he might duck under and vanish into the darkness beyond, he regards Charles and his offer. His immediate response, stopped by the literal biting of his tongue, is one of unwarranted derision for reasons unknown, in the vein of a proclamation of needing no further assistance for the same predicament, but it is his second time already. Instead he nods with slight deference.]
You've made less of a fuss than McCoy would have.
[It's as good as Charles will get to a thank you and assurance he might be considered for a call. D'Artagnan hopes it's enough, and such parting words haven't undone progress made in civility tonight. He slinks into the garage without waiting for acknowledgement.]
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mattersofscience) wrote2016-05-31 10:57 pm
no subject
I've no quarrel with you rejecting my opinions. You need not apologise for it.
[Charles will reap the consequences for that on his own, for not listening to anything D'Artagnan may have to say on the gangs, and that is a satisfactory end for the slight of ignoring him. He sighs. A short irritable noise, regarding Charles's further comments on that.]
I was unaware we'd needed working anything out. You understand we're barely acquaintances, do you not?
[This is not a friendship in need of tending to, there's been little established as far as D'Artagnan is concerned.]
no subject
Yes, but that's a first step to something more. [And reasons to care feel enough for him to want to make effort here.]
I want to make an effort for that. I won't if you're uninterested, but that's my intention now. [Right now, he doesn't see any reason why he can't, or shouldn't, try.] It would be pleasant, but I don't think us understanding one another perfectly is required for it.
[Because at this point, he's not sure if that's possible. Especially as D'Artagnan seems to be taking his admission of not liking how things went between them in the Down, as some kind of accusation of wrongdoing.]
no subject
I can't require that of anyone... I am, moderately, interested.
[His teeth press into his lower lip, and he looks away, watching the other side of the street.]
I'd thought you insightful, despite your peculiarities. Well, before you'd displayed them. You wished to help me once, and I...
[It's something difficult to speak on now, after his behaviour in the alley, and he feels deeply, penetratingly, exposed, flayed before this man through no intent of his own.]
I don't believe myself to be as unwell as you've claimed, but... I am... I've not found solutions to my... struggles, presently.
no subject
He's not affected by being told he's peculiar; Even though he doesn't understand the judgment, enough people have always reacted to him in that way that he knows it's true.]
I'm willing to talk about things like that. [But he thinks it's clear their approach to anything like it with this man hasn't gone well so far. Still, it's something D'Artagnan does seem to be telling him it's what he likes the idea of.] But I don't want to give an impression that I think a friendship has to be about something like that, always.
[Particularly after his Finder thrashed him so thoroughly for it and made him rethink his instincts, and then his efforts with Elle to try and be more casual. The latter of which were inspired by the man in front of him now. He's more okay, currently, with the idea of working towards a connection that's more about respect and general good will.
Or even (god forbid) fun. Somehow.]
We can also... 'chill'. [An expression he immediately regrets coming out of his mouth, because the man may not understand it.]
no subject
[He meets Charles's eyes again, eyebrows slightly knitted in confusion. Certainly, that's what had intrigued this man about him, D'Artagnan presumes. Charles didn't wish for fighting or violence, or a general discussion, but had been asking questions of his responses to things and trying to unearth more of it. He makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs. It matters not, in the end. 'Chill' though, receives another stare of puzzlement, and then D'Artagnan glances at the snow.]
... I am hot?
[That might be a strange response, he feels, and he should've simply asked what the word meant, but he's continually frustrated by his ignorance in such matters, and sometimes he wishes to pretend he understands, more difficult when context is not provided, as it hasn't been here.]
no subject
It does interest me, but I've realized that talking to people like that can make them feel like they need to be 'fixed'. I don't think that's a good state of mind to put people in. As I said, I am willing, but I want to aim to be better in it if that's what you'd like to do. [Supportive, rather than pushy. He does think shortcomings and limitations are worth pushing on, especially if they're causing problems for people, but he now thinks there have to be better ways to do it than what he has been doing: taking people apart before they've even consented to it or knew it was about to happen. Charles shakes his head at his own regrets there, and then glances down at their shifting icon on the map on his device to gauge their route. Not too far away.
And, as he thought, he's confused D'Artagnan with informal wording he's not a big fan of using, either.]
'Chill' is a word [...young, usually informal...frequently irreverent...] people in the city use, that means spending time together without needing to accomplish anything in particular. Fun, more or less. [Which is the un-fun way to explain that.]
no subject
Why need there be a word for that separation...
[That's mostly musing to himself, but there was less clear delineation between such things for him in his past. He can enjoy himself in the drive for accomplishment as much as he can in spending a night in a tavern.]
no subject
I don't know, honestly. [A lot of slang feels to him like it more confuses things than anything else.
As they approach the garage, Charles turns off his device and tucks it away in a pocket of his coat. He reaches a hand up to correct what feels like his very wind-tousled hair in preparation to start heading back to the hospital again.]
If something like this comes up again sometime, please know that I welcome you contacting me directly.
no subject
You've made less of a fuss than McCoy would have.
[It's as good as Charles will get to a thank you and assurance he might be considered for a call. D'Artagnan hopes it's enough, and such parting words haven't undone progress made in civility tonight. He slinks into the garage without waiting for acknowledgement.]