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bioshockinfinites-deactivated20
cambieandrews reblogged
when tomorrow comes | alex & cambie | ruina rex
[’Bloody tired’. He knows it’s the truth, because it’s candid, and informal. She tends to be very… precise and pleasant when she’s lying. More so than usual. Besides ‘bloody tired’ sounds pretty accurate; it’s definitely how he’s feeling about all this.]
Mm. I hate to agree with you on this but… [but he agrees.] It’s… messy, at best. Accident or not. I tried to speak with the Chancellor about it; I thought it might help get some clarity, forge some ties, anything. Obviously, I immediately regretted it.
Point is the Reformists are on edge, now more than ever. As if the visit from HQ wasn’t enough. Quinn is tense on a good day. This was… something else. No matter what happened, they’re definitely feeling the pressure—and I don’t expect they’ll let us go without feeling it too.
[Forge some times, with the Chancellor? Alex is a brave man. Or an optimistic one. Cambie gave up on forging ties with Quinn months ago, because it is so abundantly clear that he doesn’t want to forge ties. And Cambie has the advantage of being Uninfected, so she really can’t imagine he’d take well to Alex questioning things. Good on him for trying though.
It feels hopeless, but it’s better than giving up. It’s why Cambie keeps doing what she does: there’s just not an alternative.]
It might slightly be my fault if he was a bit defensive about the whole thing. Pretty much right after the announcement I went and gave him a bit of a bollocking because he somehow forgot to tell Ricky his dad had died. Poor kid had to find out through the announcement. And I also insinuated the Reformists would do a rubbish job of organising the funeral, which is a notion I do stand by. But yeah, I worry they’re going to... use this, you know, manipulate the facts. Kaiser always made pretty heavy use of his Infection, so it wouldn’t be a stretch for them to frame it like that contributed to his death.
[She sincerely hopes that isn’t the direction things will take, but it also really wouldn’t surprise her.]
BASTARD GEOMETRY. rose + cambie
@rosastein:
[ The door opens, and Rose can feel her jaw clench and her eyes widen in surprise. She staggers back a little, all too suddenly aware that she has been hogging door space like those kids she wanted to strangle in college. You really do either die a hero in the apocalypse or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. ] Oh, Christ, sorry.
[ The woman smiles the kind of smile that Rose would want to put on paper if she spotted it on a stranger across the street. Rose smiles the kind of smile one gives when they can tell someone is giving them an out for being obtuse. A pull of the lips and crinkling of the eyes that is sheepish and relieved and says ‘thanks for not calling me an idiot to my face.’ ] Brink. I know it’s on this floor, but I… think I zoned out and turned around too many times. [ She sighs through her nose. ] At this point I’m about to resign myself to sleeping in a tree.
[The poor woman looks so wide eyed and exhausted -- although the wide eyed thing might be her natural state. Her eyes are a startling green, and so round that you can’t help but be drawn to them.
Cambie shakes her head at the apology. It’s really not a big deal. On an island this size you can’t help but bump into people sometimes. Small as it is, though, there’s certainly no need for anyone to be sleeping in trees when there’s plenty of beds to go around.]
Oh, that won’t do at all. It’s way too windy on this island, you’d freeze. Come on, I’ll take you to Brink. [She tries not to think too pointedly that if Dante was a good head of house, he would have been around to help orient newcomers. It’s an old thought at this point: she’s used to the other three heads being pretty hands off. She sets off at an easy amble down the corridor, gesturing Rosa with her.] I’m Cambie, by the way. Where is it you’re joining us from? I’m guessing you’re still pretty fresh off the boat.
cambieandrews reblogged
howl hangover | corbin + cambie
[It’s both good and sad, that Cambie is realizing her precious ways aren’t worth a penny to the NWRF. It’s good, because knowing this is the only thing that can protect her from them. They’d take advantage of naivety in a second. But it’s sad, too, because much as Corbin resists being soft around her, or letting her know (or admitting to himself) how much he values and appreciates her, it’s not pleasant, seeing her disheartened, or disillusioned by the Reformists. Sure, they’re all disillusioned, and maybe they should be as such. But it’s no fun telling a Care Bear there’s no Santa Clause.
Or… whatever.
He laughs at the agony aunt comment.] Blimey, some people wouldn’t even sign up for that. [He snorts.] I know I wouldn’t. But yeah.. reckon it was more like that, back before all these pompous fuckers showed up.
[A pause. He slides her a look, with almost-narrowed eyes.] But I resent that, by the way, [he intones.] I ain’t got drama. Look at me! Do I look like a diva? I ain’t no drama bitch, Andrews. I avoid drama like the plague, thanks very much. [Another scoff, for good measure.]
[’Look at me’, he says, and Cambie looks at him with raised eyebrows. She knows that he can’t be bothered with drama most of the time, but his appearance does not suggest that.]
But drama does have a way of finding you anyway. [Cambie teases. Corbin doesn’t seek it out actively, but sometimes that’s not enough to keep him safe from it.] Besides, I think when you survive massive global destruction, you have to expect a little bit of drama. And much as I complain, all this nonsense is still preferable to being out in the Wastes. For me, anyway -- all the AP training in the world isn’t going to equip me for brawling with Looters and fighting for my life.
cambieandrews reblogged
BASTARD GEOMETRY. rose + cambie
tuesday. april 11th, 2163. outside delma house.
[ Rosalind Stein is not unintelligent (no matter what her long-buried chemistry exams might say), though she’s starting to question the legitimacy of such a claim. A woman had directed her up the stairs and to the right, said “that’s where your house is,” and let her loose with her bag and her sketchbook. Still, Rose finds herself sighing in front of the wrong door, with the wrong symbol, in the wrong wing. The logical solution would be to look at the map available to colony members on her PDD. The implementation of this solution is lost somewhere between the fact that semi-regular system updates are keeping the map from loading, and an unhealthy dose of stubbornness that insists she doesn’t need a map anyway.
Rose is so incredibly lucky, she thinks, that she hadn’t been left to her own devices in the wilds of the earth for four and some years. Screw statistics, honestly, but there was at least an 87.69% chance she’d be dead. ]
…It’s a square, Rosalind. You went in a circle, in a square.
[For once, Cambie has a little free time. Well, she’s not sure it totally counts since she specifically carved out an hour in her schedule today to take time for herself. The funeral yesterday had been just exhausting; if she never had to arrange another funeral in her life, she’d be happy. A good night’s sleep in Mitch’s arms had helped, but she still needs to do some self care.
It’s why she’s going to go to the auditorium and do a bit of choreo, just for herself. She’s in her usual dancing uniform of leotard and sweatpants, water flask in hand, when she emerges from Delma and comes face to face with a stranger. Cambie’s step lacks its usual bounce today, which is probably why she didn’t actually collide. The lost look of a new arrival is clear on the woman’s face, and Cambie smiles gently at the self-deprecating comment she makes.]
Sign of a creative mind. [Cambie reassures. Learning the lay of the land is a process that disorients most newcomers; the building isn’t really challenging, but after a long journey and an arrival to a new place, it can be overwhelming anyway.] Where you trying to get to?
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finders keepers | ajay & cambie
[ ‘As a retired Chad.’ Pfft. Yeah right. But he can’t blame her for not really following his convolute symbolism and Adriánisms.] No, no, a ‘Chad’ isn’t just any person who liked gym class. A ‘Chad’ is like… the jock who also asked if you could feel earthquakes while on an airplane and who dated Kelly from the cheerleading squad but dated her younger sister after she ‘got boring’ and also who truly believed hot girls would fight over his dirty jockstraps if he sold them on ebay. That’s a Chad. So if you’re a Chad then… well, I have severely misjudged you. And maybe.. I would like to go back to being that blissfully ignorant.
[Cambie doesn’t immediately get the 2144 reference, which tracks. For someone who’s quite comfortable and open about being trans, he really doesn’t talk about it a whole lot. But it’s not that he can’t, it’s that he doesn’t think to. It’s been a part of him such a long time that sometimes he forgets not everybody even knows.]
Oh, hah—no, I’m not trying to pass for a teenager. I’m not that delusional—though sometimes I wish I were. 2144 is when I transitioned. I just feel weird saying ‘keeping it real’ since before I was, you know.. actually keeping it real.
⚧️
[She nods along, following Adrián’s extremely detailed explanation on what a chad really is -- though she sort of regrets listening so carefully as he gets to selling dirty jockstraps. Perhaps she ought to have tuned out before it got to that. A look of amused disgust crosses Cambie’s face; a laugh before it’s a judgement, but ew. She’s had far too much experience with men’s dance belts to enjoy that thought.]
Ah, no, you lost me at dirty jockstraps. Apparently you judged me right.
[At his explanation of ‘keeping it real’, Cambie lets out an ‘ah’ of understanding. That makes a lot more sense.] Ohh, I see, I’ve got you. I suppose in a way that is a bit like a birthday, so it wouldn’t be totally inaccurate to say you’re twentyish. The real you. I say that as a birthday fan though, I was always the sort to make sure the restaurant knew it was my birthday so I’d get cake, and if anyone asked how I was doing it’d be ‘I’m doing great, because I’m a birthday girl today’.
cambieandrews reblogged
relentless diligence | enoch & cambie
Sounds like we’re cut from a similar cloth. [[ He sincerely hopes that won’t feel like an insult. He’s hardly called a pushover: but he does push himself too far in the pursuit of helping others. ]] Stubborn pushovers, very confusing breed.
It’s not really my thing. [[ Perhaps a given looking at Enoch. His muscle is from work, not deliberate exercise. He’s more lean than anything from a year of malnutrition. ]] I used to shoot a fair bit, back on the farm. That’s at least one thing I have a handle on.
[Cambie grins -- stubborn pushovers are a confusing mix, to be sure. She bets Enoch is really good at being disappointed in people. That’s how it tends to go for Cambie; she’ll let people know what she wants from them, but not push back too much if they don’t comply, and then she’ll just be disappointed in them.
They’ll definitely get on, the two of them. And she thinks Mitch would like him a lot as well.]
Ah, well, maybe we can swap tips some day then. Shooting’s not my forte, but I’m always looking to improve. Torren kicked Delma’s arse in the last Games and I can’t help but take it personally... [Not that she really minds. It’s all good fun. But Cambie’s got a natural competitive streak, and she loves when Delma does well in the Games.]
FADE OUT.
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when tomorrow comes | alex & cambie | ruina rex
[He doesn’t have any sessions today. The two that he’d had, had too many people in them who’d been excused due to the freshness of the funeral—a lot of Torrens in his training groups this week, apparently—and a couple from his own house, who’d surprised him by being more distraught over Bahr’s death than Alex had anticipated. Not that his death wasn’t sad, but he’d quickly gotten wind of Benítez ‘throwing a fit’ the day of the announcement (though these were words coming from disgruntled Elites and Reformists who’d had to clean up the mess that he’d left in an old classroom-turned-storage room).
So in the end, today’s sessions had been cancelled. He supposed he could have adjusted the class plans for the day and accommodate for a smaller group, but if the majority of people were openly looking for more time to mourn, than there was a good chance the remainder might also need it, and just were too afraid to say so. Of course, he’d reminded everyone the rink was free for them to use in their own time, and they could even join in on other sessions still on going, if they felt they would benefit from the physical activity.
It was certainly his plan to work out on his own, anyway. In a previous life, Alex had few other vices than working out, when it came to dealing with anything difficult or stressful. Some things in his life since D-Day really hadn’t changed all that much.
Cambie adds the ‘I mean, really?’ as though she knows he’s liable to dismiss the question with little thought. She’s not wrong. He nods, once. Simple.]
Fine, mostly. [And he thinks it’s the truth, but he’s not sure. No one is great after someone’s death when everything happens in such close quarters, these days, but he’s more affected by the connotations of Kaiser Bahr’s death and about the morale of the community as a whole, than he is by the death itself.]
Given the circumstances. How are you? [A pause, and then he echoes.] I mean, really? [Just a whisper of an echo of a smile. Hardly there, but leaving an impression of warmth nonetheless.]
[Fine mostly, given the circumstances, seems a fair assessment of things. Cambie nods; the same is probably true for her. It’s not been a fun time for anyone, and the Elites seem to have picked up a great deal of the pressure. That’s the way the system was designed, of course, but sometimes it just feels strange. There’s plenty of non-Elites that are close to Cambie and Alex in age and life experience, but they haven’t got the pressure of being a formal pillar of the community.
Not that non-Elites haven’t taken the initiative to offer comfort or help in their own ways. It just feels... different. And it’s left Cambie feeling a bit isolated. She’s got Mitch to lean on, and other friends besides, but it just feels like she needs a holiday. Not just time off, but sun and sand and margaritas. The clubbing scene is Ibiza is probably pretty thoroughly dead, but god Cambie wishes it wasn’t.
Alex returns her question, and Cambie’s about to wave it off with a bland ‘fine’ when he also echoes her ‘really?’ Cambie exhales with a soft smile, shaking her head. She’ll not insult Alex with a white lie, then. She respects him too much for that.]
Bloody tired. [It’s bone deep. It’ll take more than a good night of sleep to recuperate.] I would say I’m glad it’s over but I have an awful feeling it’s just beginning. Of all the people that could possibly have popped their clogs, it just had to be Kaiser.
[He had been a semi-frequent topic of conversation at head of house meetings, and it looks like he’ll be haunting them even now. This isn’t going to be another Ulla, or Bjorn. This is going to have lasting consequences; probably for the worse.]
cambieandrews reblogged
howl hangover | corbin + cambie
[Corbin gives a chuckle, admittedly amused, as he finishes with his ‘artwork’ and tosses the pen onto the table beside him, letting it roll a couple of inches, watching it idly. It’d probably be better to keep it, actually—everything is of value these days. Maybe it would have been of much more value out in the Wastes, but it’s too easy to get to comfortable under a Colony roof. Kaiser’s untimely death is a perfect example of that.
He picks it up again and tucks it into his jacket.
Then he leans back onto the heels of his hands, and looks up at Andrews with a crooked grin.] I ever tell ya how much I love hearin’ you cuss? It’s like, weirdly vindicatin’, seein’ that side of you. Like somehow us Delma Delinquents have finally rubbed off on ya the way you’ve rubbed off on us.
But you sayin’ Bahr’s terrorizin’ was worse than all of us smart ass pretty boys? Pfft. Find that hard to believe. Yer just playin’. I figured we were gonna be wholly responsible for you goin’ grey real early. Not that that would be a bad thing. You’d pull it off. Too pretty, not to.
[There’s something sweetly amusing in the way Corbin discards the pen so casually and then thinks better of it, pocketing it. She’s not sure why it makes her smile; maybe because it shows these two vivid sides of him. There’s the spontaneous, lackadaisical side, and then there’s the side that’s matured.
Cambie does suppress that smile momentarily, but it blooms anyway when he talks about how he likes to hear her swear. She’s not as squeaky clean as most of her Delmas think, but she is much better at keeping a separation between her private and her professional life. Most only see her more professional side, although the private and more personal part of her has been making more frequent appearances lately. ]
I always swore, I just tried to keep it quiet for professionalism’s sake. But, you know, much bloody good that’s done me. [The NWRF don’t care about her professionalism; they care about how much they can use her against the Infected. That amount is small, but they’re also perfectly aware that getting rid of her would cause far more upset than it’s worth. Maybe she’s gotten cocky, too confident in the idea that most of the population wouldn’t stand for her demotion.]
I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I don’t think I’ll be going grey any time soon. If I do, believe me when I say it won’t be because of any Delmas. You mostly keep your drama interpersonal, which is far easier to deal with than politics. I didn’t sign up for the politics, I just thought I was going to be a glorified agony aunt.
[Cambie rolls her eyes like she’s just joking, and she sort of is. Of course she’s happy to go above and beyond to protect her Delmas. But the first few years were a lot easier, back when it was just navigating post-apocalyptic life. If she’d had a way of foreseeing the NWRF, she’s honestly not sure if she’d have agreed to being head of house.]
cambieandrews reblogged
Meghan Markle photographed by Bryan Derballa
Source: instagram.com
precipice | teilo & cambie { ruina rex: the funeral}
[She stepped up at his side, and brought with her a soft breeze of cinnamon and nutmeg. Something sweet and warm. Teilo’s physical senses were about as normal as they come, on backdrop of a world were there were those who could see like hawks, smell like predators. But she had a cozying innocence about her scent, like a lingering memory of a life before all this. More like a dream, these days.
He nods, sighs. He’s not sure in what order.] It is. [What else is there to say, really? She’s right.] I know we should almost expect death, in this new world of ours. But somehow, I hadn’t been.
I guess there’s a certain… willful blindness to the projected security of Colony life. People want to believe it. Makes things… easier.
[She nods. You don’t really expect it, especially not here, and not in the way that Kaiser passed.]
I think in a way the mundane ones are harder. The reminder that it’s not just an apocalypse we’re dealing with; that people go right on being people and having aneurysms or being unable to get life saving medication or what-have-you, that’s hard. [Though with that said, Cambie knows which death in this Colony affected her the most, and it was one of the violent ones. He’d just been a kid, and they’d never even learned his name.] But I hope this isn’t making people feel... unsafe, or like they can’t be secure here? Kaiser’s passing was an unfortunate accident but there’s no reason anyone else should worry about getting hurt.
[Maybe she’s misunderstanding his comment about the security of life here; it’s very possible, given how tired she is. But she’s heard the talk, and she knows people are uncomfortable for a lot of reasons, and she just doesn’t know how to reassure them.]
cambieandrews reblogged
precipice | teilo & cambie { ruina rex: the funeral}
[The rain pounds at the roof of the chapel, echoing the heavy hearts and weighty silences in the air today. And Teilo stands, staring at the hand-sketched portrait of a man whom apparently no one really knew, a glass of red wine resting still and somewhat forgotten near his lips.
There’s meaning in this—in all of it—and though a part of him wants to inspect it inch by inch, he worries about what he’ll find. But one thing is for sure: today is the marker of change.]
.
[She’s so tired. She can feel it in her dry, itchy eyes, and she really can’t wait for it to be over. All the political ramifications are too much for her to consider right now; she’s just looking forward to crawling into bed early tonight and sleeping softly in Mitch’s arms. But for others, the politics are too loud to ignore.
What’s Teilo thinking? It’s been a while since the two of them spoke, and she wondered how much progress he’d made. Cambie had been cautious, so she understands if he’s proceeded without her (sometimes she thinks the best she can offer is a blind eye) with... something, whatever vague ideas he had been planning. How did Kaiser fit into all of that? Was he a risk, too loud and violent? Or was he an icon of something most had been too scared to vocalise?
He’s deep in thought, a frown etched between his brows, and it wouldn’t surprise Cambie if he hadn’t even heard her approach.]
It’s a lot, isn’t it? [She speaks gently so as not to startle him. Not referring to the picture, but the situation as a whole.]
when tomorrow comes | alex & cambie | ruina rex
@alexander-donovan
[Perhaps it comes from growing up in a landlocked little county, but the smell of the sea always makes Cambie feel like something is shifting in her. She loves being outdoors, but the sharp salt tang in the air makes her ache, particularly on a day like this. A week like this, rather. It’s the day after Kaiser’s funeral, and Cambie feels flat, and deflated, and there’s an awful weight of guilt that won’t let up.
But she’s busy, and that’s good. Cambie likes to be busy, because it distracts her from whatever else is going on. She’s been shadowing one of the AP trainers lately, guiding parts of some classes, and today she has offered to stay behind and tidy up. The class had been working on agility, and there’s plastic cones sprawled out in various formations around the rink. Once everyone has gone, Cambie sets about quietly and carefully picking them up in stacks. One on top of the other, with hollow little whooshes.
It’s a simple task but she’s absorbed in it, and so distracted by her thoughts, that she doesn’t hear Alex’s arrival until he’s just about in front of her.]
Hi, Alex. [Cambie straightens, adjusting the little stack of small plastic cones that she is holding, lining up their seams. She’s not really a fastidious person but when she feels someone is witnessing her in her own space, she feels obliged to tidy it up for them. It’s a habit she inherited from her mum, according to her dad -- Cambie’s mum would apparently never sit down when there were guests, she would always be wiping down surfaces or polishing glasses. It’s just Alex, and it’s just the training rink, but it’s just habit.] How are you doing? I mean, really?
[He always keeps to himself so much, so it’s hard to know -- although Cambie’s not sure if that’s just her own perception. She always had a vague inclination that he didn’t like her much, so she tries not to be too overbearing. Maybe he’s been talking to people, maybe he’s fine and has all the support he needs, but she can’t help but ask anyway, even if that’s the thing that’s off-putting about her. She knows she can be too much sometimes, but she had to push to get her career off the ground, and now she’s forgotten how to make herself small.]
cambieandrews reblogged
finders keepers | ajay & cambie
[It’s not like he really needed the reminder of why everyone loves Cambie, but this definitely serves as one. She’s sweet and charming and beautiful—but she also has a delightful and refreshing cheeky streak that you don’t get to see as often, but is so rewarding when you do.
He snort-scoffs. Pulls a face. ] Pfft. Oh, don’t worry, I don’t want to get away with it. I’m perfectly happy to embrace my idiot-factor with open arms. I’ll wear that shit like a badge. Keepin’ it real since 2144. [Because nothing is as ‘real’ as telling your parents and the world you’re transgender at the ripe age of twelve.] But to be clear, I can’t really be a douche. A douche by definition basically has to be an ignorant cishet. Like, don’t misunderstand me—queers can be assholes and jerks and idiots and pains in the fucking ass, you name it. But you look up ‘douche’ in the dictionary and it’s a picture of that guy Chad from Gym Class.
⚧️
As a retired Chad, I take that personally. [Alright, that’s an exaggeration. But she’d been pretty fearsome at volleyball in school -- and though she’d not really participated in a lot of sports, her performance in PE was always excellent thanks to her rigorous dance training. Her performance in other classes had been solid, if a little more variable. She’d certainly never had a head for maths, but... 2144? Really? ]
In the politest way possible, you’re never twenty years old! Or if you are, the apocalypse has really taken its toll on you and I’ll be looking up your birthday so I can get you some moisturiser along with my apologies. [She’s -- incorrectly -- assuming he had meant he was born in 2144. Which, alright, he looks good, but certainly well into his adulthood, so pull the other one.]
cambieandrews reblogged
oath and burden | cambie & wren {ruina rex: funeral}
Cambie. {Wren can practically hear the gears turning in her head, see the steam leave her ears. He knows that brow-furrowed expression all too well and wishes there was something he could do to ease her worries.} Stop fretting. You did a fantastic job with the tools and resources available to you. The funeral was perfect and the wake is going just as well. It isn’t about how much money you spend or how grand the decorations are, people just need a place to come together to mourn. Nobody expected you to put this much effort into it, and I bet every single person here appreciates everything you’ve done more than they can say.
{He didn’t know Kaiser personally but it’d been so hard to avoid hearing the rumours and gossip surrounding him, Wren feels like he did know him a little after all. He certainly heard enough to know that this isn’t the kind of funeral a man like Kaiser would have wanted, but it’s what the people of the Colony need.
Death is traumatic no matter where it comes from. Be it someone close to your heart or a person you’ve barely spoken three words to. Doubly so following everything they’d been exposed to during, and after, D-Day.
He can’t speak for anybody else, although he imagines he’s not alone in this, but Wren is glad someone did something. The funeral, the wake - everyone coming together like this makes him feel less alone with his thoughts and concerns. It makes him feel like there’s a community out here that cares for each other like family, political rifts aside. It reminds him of life before the end and it’s that small glimmer of hope that’ll get him through the day.}
Have you taken the time to talk about how you’re really feeling? {He can’t help himself. Seeing her so worried and stressed is breaking his heart.} To anyone? Or have you been so busy consoling others that you haven’t yet found the time to figure out your own thoughts?
[Oh, he really is upfront. Wren’s got the Delma stubbornness, in a way that makes Cambie feel fond but also fretful. She’ll never get used to being confronted in the same way she so often confronts her Delmas. It’s probably awfully hypocritical of her, and probably good there’s people like Wren around to call her out, but she shifts her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other and struggles to feel this is a good thing in this particular moment.
It’s not a secret that Cambie is sensitive, and in general she’s not ashamed to show her emotions, but now isn’t really the time or the place. Well... maybe a funeral is exactly the right time and place -- it’s just hard to shake the need for control. Cambie needs to be available for other people, she doesn’t need to confront her own emotions.]
Um-- more the latter, probably. I’ve talked to Mitch a bit, but... [But one middle of the night breakdown probably didn’t count as healthy communication as part of working through grief.] Have you? Taken time to talk about how you’re feeling, I mean. You’re as bad as I am about that stuff.
[It’s true, which means it’s not totally just Cambie deflecting. Wren is a helper, a supporter -- and a therapist. It’s actually his job to talk to people about their feelings, which means he leaves little room for looking after himself.]
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relentless diligence | enoch & cambie
[[ Enoch laughs, light and easy for once when she tells him about jazz hands as though it were an absolute revelation to her. She continues, serious yet still light and charming. He hadn’t realised there was a masculine term for ballerina, he notes idly. He is tired, the thought of dancing has him exhausted already. ]] You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?
[[ Shaking his head, as she talks through exactly what he would need to do if he were lacking a certain level of grace. Saying no excuses, then amending for dyspraxia pulls another quiet laugh from him. ]] I can’t claim any excuse besides my schedule is already packed and I’m sure by the time you get them in place, I will continue to find more excuses.
[She can recognise the quiet determination in Enoch. He really doesn’t fancy dancing, even for fun, and Cambie softens. It’s one thing to coax people out of their shell and encourage them to have a bit of a laugh and challenge themselves, but she never actually wants to make anyone cross any boundaries.]
Stubborn, but also a bit of a pushover. [She smiles.] For the right people in the right context, anyway. But I definitely don’t want to make anyone miserable. Are there bits of training you’re looking forward to, or is it all a bit not up your street?