[ The flowers, the air, the palatable warmth all around them. There are plenty of things for Jehan to truly enjoy. He is no stranger to this garden, this park. More free afternoons have been spent admiring the beautiful plants than anywhere else. It's a wonderful place to think. Quiet, with enough people to provoke your thoughts further without being disturbed. Beautiful and man-made nature all around them. A fantastic contradiction. A painting made with Mother Earth's own beauty.
None of that matters when he spots her.
Jehan finds beauty - interest - in every person he meets. Every person has a story. Flaws and talents and admirable qualities and shameful guilty pleasures that make them 100% a true person. But her. Here she is, surrounded by all this beauty...
And she looks positively murderous. Softly murderous. It's another contradiction to set off so many surrounding him.
He has to talk to her. He will leave her alone should she truly want him to, but it would be such a wasted opportunity to let this ghost slip away into the night and never know the sound of her voice.
It's a lesson Jehan has learned from Marius. ]
... Hello.
[ Despite his bravery, despite his need to approach her and talk to her and know every detail she is willing to give, his voice is still soft and meek. He wants to talk, he does. His voice betrays him, as it often does without a cause to shout for. Without his leaders there to stir his volume higher and higher. ]
[ It is too sunny outside. Not that Wednesday has ever been anything but pale. She does not tan. She does not burn. She simply just is, regardless of the weather. Her crossbow is slung over her back and her hair, no longer in long, straight plaits, is cropped, off the back of her neck. If she is warm under her starched collar, she doesn't let on.
Wednesday means to hunt. During this time of day, no one notices the girl with the crossbow, looking for the next creature to add to her taxidermy collection. Or, perhaps, it could make a good gift for mother and father. Living in the big city, no one notices that she carries a weapon not commonly seen on city streets. A gun will cause great alarm but a crossbow only makes her look like someone on her way to a comic book convention.
The voice draws her out of her thoughts and she turns her head sharply. ]
[ Hm. If only he had planned past this moment. The sharp gaze and flat tone are enough to scare any man away.
Jehan is not any man. One simple word is not enough to justify leaving beauty like this alone. And yet, and yet. It's less about running away scared and more about respecting her wish to be alone. ]
I'm... sorry to have disturbed you. [ With all the bright eyed, soft-smiled sincerity in the world, ] You are fare too beautiful for me not to say something.
[ Jehan, a man of five languages and poetry the length of your leg, can be lacking in certain other areas. Such as social interaction, for example. He should be excusing himself. Yet, here he stands, admiring her as any other flower. Only more. Oh so much more. ]
[ His sincerity actually makes her feel a touch regretful at her own irritation. Wednesday is an intimidating force, cold and stoic, but she is not without compassion; she just displays it differently than the average person. Compliments such as this are unusual. Her expression softens. Or rather, her lips no long form a thin, stern line when she turns to face him fully, lowering her weapon to rest against her hip. ]
Do you always accost young women in the park with flowery complments? [ It isn't in an accusatory tone. She is genuinely curious about his attentions. ]
[ A reaction! However soft and subtle, one still all the same! It only makes his smile grow wider and his natural reserve keeping it down. Keeping himself drawn inward. His shoulders do not slouch, but his hands dare not leave his side. His eyes frequently cast downward. ]
Only when her beauty compels me, so... Never before.
[ An honest question with an honest answer. And now for an honest question in return, once again as sincere as any man is capable. ]
[ Oh, he's shy. Wednesday, as quiet as she is prone to being most of the time, is bolder in her stance, her gaze eerily unwavering now that he has captured her attention. ]
Oh.
[ If she could blush, this would be the appropriate moment. ]
Yes, actually. I've been told I'm quite strange. [ She lifts a shoulder to shrug, indifferent to the reactions of people outside her family bubble. ]
[ He offers one in return, his smile never wavering. In speaking he is shy, in action he is not. Once the waters are tested, he is upright and eyes on hers. ]
As have I. But to everyone, at least one someone is strange.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
jehan ∂ this is a thing that is happening
no subject
None of that matters when he spots her.
Jehan finds beauty - interest - in every person he meets. Every person has a story. Flaws and talents and admirable qualities and shameful guilty pleasures that make them 100% a true person. But her. Here she is, surrounded by all this beauty...
And she looks positively murderous. Softly murderous. It's another contradiction to set off so many surrounding him.
He has to talk to her. He will leave her alone should she truly want him to, but it would be such a wasted opportunity to let this ghost slip away into the night and never know the sound of her voice.
It's a lesson Jehan has learned from Marius. ]
... Hello.
[ Despite his bravery, despite his need to approach her and talk to her and know every detail she is willing to give, his voice is still soft and meek. He wants to talk, he does. His voice betrays him, as it often does without a cause to shout for. Without his leaders there to stir his volume higher and higher. ]
no subject
Wednesday means to hunt. During this time of day, no one notices the girl with the crossbow, looking for the next creature to add to her taxidermy collection. Or, perhaps, it could make a good gift for mother and father. Living in the big city, no one notices that she carries a weapon not commonly seen on city streets. A gun will cause great alarm but a crossbow only makes her look like someone on her way to a comic book convention.
The voice draws her out of her thoughts and she turns her head sharply. ]
Yes?
no subject
Jehan is not any man. One simple word is not enough to justify leaving beauty like this alone. And yet, and yet. It's less about running away scared and more about respecting her wish to be alone. ]
I'm... sorry to have disturbed you. [ With all the bright eyed, soft-smiled sincerity in the world, ] You are fare too beautiful for me not to say something.
[ Jehan, a man of five languages and poetry the length of your leg, can be lacking in certain other areas. Such as social interaction, for example. He should be excusing himself. Yet, here he stands, admiring her as any other flower. Only more. Oh so much more. ]
no subject
Do you always accost young women in the park with flowery complments? [ It isn't in an accusatory tone. She is genuinely curious about his attentions. ]
no subject
Only when her beauty compels me, so... Never before.
[ An honest question with an honest answer. And now for an honest question in return, once again as sincere as any man is capable. ]
Are you unaccustomed to such praise?
no subject
Oh.
[ If she could blush, this would be the appropriate moment. ]
Yes, actually. I've been told I'm quite strange. [ She lifts a shoulder to shrug, indifferent to the reactions of people outside her family bubble. ]
no subject
As have I. But to everyone, at least one someone is strange.