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 Posted: Sat Aug 03, 2013 5:59 pm
He reached over and took another bite of Stormy's ice cream, sucking on the spoon almost absently as he pondered what she was saying. "I could see that," said Gale, after a moment. "You are very curious - one of your most admirable traits, I do believe - clever, flexible, adaptable...it's like all of the best things rolled into one."
The way she spoke was like a story. He could feel their surroundings slowly melting away until it was just the two of them, without any of the hassle and the bustle and the stress and the tension of Deus or anywhere else.
"I love listening to you talk," said Gale, a smile on his face as he leaned over to nudge his shoulder against hers again. "I wish I could speak the way you do, all lyrical and poetic and beautiful." He pointed his spoon at her. "That's the one thing the raccoons don't have but you do - a sense of poetry in you, whether literal or abstractly seen."
The path ahead of them was made of a pale, sandy cobblestone, Gale leading Stormy around another corner. Ahead of them was a long, black gated fence with a security guard posted at the front of it, but he was distracted by something - or someone, rather, who was talking to him in a low, animated tone of voice.
"Come on," Gale whispered, and tugged Stormy along. It was still light enough that the place was open, but it would be closing soon, and he wanted to be able to spend an adequate amount of time at their destination.
When they finally reached the gate, Gale gave a quick nod to the guard, who was still distracted, and pulled Stormy through, feeling the cobblestone turn to soft grass beneath his feet.
"Welcome to Kensington Gardens," said Gale, slowing his steps once they were a few yards in. "It's right next to the Kensington Palace and Hyde Park in central London, and they close when it darkens outside, but I figure we still have some time to walk around a bit. It's quite beautiful here, really very peaceful, and there's loads to see."
He slid his arm free of Stormy's in order to slide his fingers through hers, linking their hands together lightly. "I used to come here all the time as a child," said Gale, his eyes moving across the rolling green grass, the cobblestone pathways, the neatly trimmed trees. "My mum took my sister and I all the time, it was just so...peaceful. I never felt more at ease with myself than I did when I was here."
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Posted: Sat Aug 03, 2013 7:44 pm
Giggling a little, she tilted her cup and slurped up the remains of her gelato before Gale could steal more, wiggling her spoon a him in a teasing no-no fashion. "I'm glad you can't, as selfish as that sounds. It means I can keep taking the spotlight in that regard~" And she felt no shame in admitting it if it meant getting compliments like those, words she absorbed like sunlight and that would warm her even if she went someplace colder.
"But let's be fair: there is poetry everywhere you look if you know how to. For instance, raccoons are small and sleek and more clever than most animals, just the right size to get where they want and have the strength to follow that curiosity, and their markings are simple but distinguished at the same time. And..." She paused briefly, then pulled his arm closer with a secret smile. Stormy didn't bump him back this time, preferring to slip a little kiss to his shoulder instead."There's a magical symmetry in a sun and moon walking hand in hand on a London misty eve, too," she added, because being lyrical also apparently meant being a little over the top every once in a while.
Stormy fell silent as they arrived, her eyes scanning the contours of the gates as they entered. Kensington Gardens...Why was that familiar? She was lost trying to follow that though as Gale lead her, a look of concentration evident on her face for a few moments. Once more she was thankful for the tether of their hands, for she would have easily wandered away without them. In the haze of sunset, the gardens were painted such lovely shades of the dying sun...But why was it ringing a bell?
"Gardens have that feeling to me too," Stormy commented, turning her head this way and that. "They're secluded and shady and smell of nature...or dirt. Or fresh rain. This looks like a beautiful place to visit so often," she said with a soft smile. With her dress and flower accessories she felt right at home even.
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Posted: Sat Aug 03, 2013 10:15 pm
Even with the fact that they were probably breaking the rules, being in the Gardens this late, there was something distinctly thrilling about just being outside, by themselves, in the middle of London and without the imminent threat of danger hovering over their heads. Every now and then they would pass a couple or two that were lingering, but for the most part the grounds spread out before them, the vibrant green of the grass and the trees muted by the shadows of evening.
"You yourself are an entire poem and then some," said Gale, for once grateful for the dark because he'd felt Stormy kiss his shoulder, and his cheeks were warm and flushed with happiness and a jittery nervous pleasure that he was entirely unused to. But, as always, she was comforting, warm, and reassuring, and he squeezed her hand, tossing their empty cups into a trash can as they passed one so that he could more freely move about.
"I love the smell of rain," said Gale, tilting his head skyward. "London always smells of rain because it always rains here. The perpetual fog of the island isn't quite like London's, but it's close, which is why I think I'm one of the only people who doesn't mind it. There is something so very...pure in rain. Something very clean."
As he pulled her further into the Gardens, feet making soft clicking sounds on the cobblestone pathway, Gale spotted what he had been looking for. What appeared to be a tall, shadowed figure came into view, but upon closer inspection, turned out to be a statue of a young boy, a small plaque set a short ways off.
"Here," Gale said softly, slowing his steps until he had come to a stop in front of the statue. He looked up at the familiar metal, his cheeks lightly misted with fog and with the remnants of his earlier blush.
"I used to come here all the time," he said, still looking up at the childlike figure. "Peter Pan used to be my favorite book. Mum would read it to me all the time, I would always beg her to read it again because..."
Gale trailed off, looking slightly sheepish, though his face was still flushed with a sort of excitement, his eyes still tracing the lines of the metal, of Peter's face, his hands, the flute against his lips.
"Because I always wanted to learn how to fly," he finished quietly, his fingers loose in Stormy's. "Because out of everything I could have ever wanted, I had always wanted to learn how to fly."
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Posted: Sat Aug 03, 2013 11:18 pm
Stormy chose not to speak for a while, instead listening to Gale with that same secretive smile, with passed glances every once in a while as if to make sure he was still there, that his warmth wasn't something she was imagining, this trip not a hallucination. And she hoped he could tell by those smiles and the little hums she gave that she agreed wholeheartedly with what he said, because there weren't really words she could use to reply properly to this--not without sounding redundant. Gale knew she liked overcast weather by now, or at least he ought to if she hasn't said it outright: it was nice and strangely touching to know he did as well, in a way she couldn't quite explain and therefore didn't try to.
He did, however, get another sweet shoulder kiss, as it could speak for itself.
As they approached the figure, Stormy went back to mentally chewing on her mild frustration. What was it about Kensington Gardens again...? It was only when he spoke up and slowed them down, just a split second before he revealed it, that Stormy caught sight of the plaque and her heart leapt in realization.
Peter Pan. There we go.
And she had to take some time to process that and what Gale said after, her eyes flipping between his profile and that of the statue's in search of some answer to reply with. He hadn't mentioned this before, but it was such a strange detail, he wouldn't have under normal circumstances...And at that conclusion her face began to color, because while Gale had asked her to reveal something non-serious, he might have, in turn, revealed something deeper instead: a dream. Not just a dream, but a childhood dream. Those were the most special sorts, after all...
"Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, by J. M. Barrie. Published in 1908, the prequel of sorts to Peter and Wendy."
Her free hand was curled at her chest, she realized, tied back by doubt and self-consciousness before it could make it off her person and onto Gale's. But the urge to hold him was terribly strong...She made do with tightening her hold on his hand when it grew slack, unwilling to let it go.
"The boy who grew up too fast was the one who wished he didn't have to grow up at all," she said softly, her gaze now on the statue's as well because she wasn't sure how to sort out all of her feelings when staring at the cause of them. "I think that sounds like a much better poem. A bittersweet one."
She was quiet for a stretch of time, simply close and enjoying that proximity, this scene, his reasoning. Then Stormy glanced at him, shy after forgetting how to speak. "Have you ever been on an airplane before?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 2:36 pm
He had not been here in years, perhaps not since he was a child, and Gale sucked in a sharp breath as he stared at the dark figure, half shrouded in the shadows of the setting sun, a few stray streaks of gold and orange penetrating through the hazy mist to cast rays on the carved metal. It was such a familiar sight, such a bittersweet one that for a moment he had quite forgotten how to speak properly.
He heard Stormy shift beside him, her fingers steady in his, and Gale was jolted back to reality, blinking rapidly. A stray drop of rain hit his cheek and slid down the side of his face, cold and wet, and Gale reached his free hand up, wiping it slowly off.
"Kind of the opposite for me, isn't it?" he said, still looking up at the statue as though he couldn't quite look away just yet, as though the mere sight of it mesmerized him, entranced him. "Peter never wanted to grow up, and all I wanted to do was grow up. I figured if I grew up, people would stop assuming that I didn't know what I was talking about, that they would see that I was capable of doing and saying things that actually meant something."
He let out his breath slowly, distilling some of the mist in front of him.
"Once," he said, in answer to her question. "Well, twice, if you count the return flight. Mum and Dad took Leslie and me to New York one year to see the ball drop on New Year's Eve. We were there only a few days, and then we came back to London. But I remember I was terrified of flying, and I clung to my mother the entire time."
His voice had gone slightly distant, lost in a memory. "Ironic, isn't it? That all I wanted to do was be on a plane, and yet once I actually got on it, I was too scared to really see what flying was all about?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 5:16 pm
For a moment she thought he was being brought to tears, but Gale's voice was too steady for it; a drop of water plunked onto her shoulder to support a different theory, though whether it was heralding actual rain or just thoroughly condensed mist she wasn't sure. Nor was Stormy quite sure of what to say at first, as it wasn't simple date banter they were speaking of here. To her, it was strangely delicate and a matter of sensitivity to which she had to act both sensibly and compassionately to, something that required equal amounts of diplomacy and support. Like fielding a political minefield where one wrong word would set him off, harm him just as he started to open up; and she knew all too well how someone could be vulnerable while doing so.
More than that, though, she didn't want him to stop; she wanted to keep listening, because she knew that tone of voice almost intimately at this point, the sound of someone moving far away into their mind.
"Ironic, but not uncommon," Stormy replied gently, watching how the light gave Peter a crescent of fiery hair. "People will always want for something that, when they get it, it isn't quite what it seemed. It's practically human nature to reach without quite knowing." When the glint proved too much for her, she turned her gaze back down to the collage of figures at his feet, blinking in a small daze but smiling a little. "And I also think that you don't ever get rid of childhood either; it just grows with you. Herc's older than us both and he still wants to raise you by your boxers up a flagpole like a middle schooler," she gave as an example. "So, ah, watch out once he finds out who you are."
She still hadn't told either of her brothers Gale's identity, mostly because it was much too fun to watch Evan go around blind; Tuck's trusting acceptance had been a buzz kill, as much of a comfort as it really was.
New York, huh? Stormy was a little jealous. It must have been nice and frosty up there at the end of the year, all bundled with hot cocoa and family . . . "The first time was scary for me too: just this strong buildup pushing me in my seat, the swoop in my stomach when we left the ground and shook--the fact that we were defying gravity." She shifted her fingers in their grasp, less to adjust her hold than it was to make sure they were both still there in physical bodies and not just voices. "But the more I did it, the more of a thrill I got every time we left the ground or touched down. There's something about the rush of power needed to lift or land . . . It's like a rollercoaster ride. I wasn't in control, and that was frightening, but it was still a ride."
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 5:27 pm
She had finally dragged him out of his own selfish thoughts, Stormy's gentle voice sliding in and out of his mind until he was able to grasp it, Gale turning his head to look at her, her hair glimmering auburn red in the rapidly fading sunlight. A shadow had fallen across the dark marble statue now, draping it in darkness, but it was still visible even without the sun to keep it bright.
"I assume Herc is one of your brothers," he said, a bit dryly, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Gale shifted his feet, getting a more stable position, his eyes flickering across Stormy's face. The smile turned more gentle, something in Gale's shoulders and his stance relaxing.
"Sounds like the first time I knew that I liked you," he said, now turning fully to face her. He took her other hand in his, sliding their fingers together. "As more than just a friend, I mean. Scary at first, a swooping sensation in my stomach - and then defying gravity, as you say."
He took a step closer, swinging her hands a little. "And then the more I see you, the more of a thrill I get. I'm not entirely in control of myself, which scares me, but you're here and you are all the flight I need."
Gale took yet another step closer, now so close that he could have poked his nose against her cheek if he ducked his head, but he just stood there in front of her, squeezing her fingers gently and rocking back and forth on his heels as though he couldn't quite stand entirely still.
"One day I'll fly again for real," he said. "And next time I'll take you with me so we can both defy gravity together."
He lifted a hand, absently brushing a few strands of hair from her face, a gesture that had now become a habit after doing it so many times. "By the way, I don't think I've ever said thank you, have I?"
A smile touched his lips, quiet in the dark. "For saying yes, I mean."
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 6:14 pm
"Mmm~ Evan, a Sun."
She glanced at him from the side once the spots weren't so bad in her eyes, but Stormy found herself quickly looking away because that gentle smile, like the light on the statue, somehow was a little too bright for her to directly looking at. And like sunlight both it and his words warmed her up, both pleasantly and self-consciously; while her skin tone could hide most of it, red tinges weren't limited to her hair now. She was aware Gale had moved close enough that their bodies were practically touching and then she became aware that the hand that had been curled at her chest since it had been placed there had been moved to his grasp also, and that her fingers were uncurling of their own volition--like flowers opening towards the sun, she wanted to say, but her mouth was sealed shut.
Awkwardly, Stormy's body was still facing the monument while her arms were pulled to face Gale, and for a moment she wanted to resist turning for the simple (if illogical) reason that she would be blinded if she did so. Or that somehow in this light and in this special place, if she did he would see something off--a crack, a mark, an asymmetry, a flaw--that would make him think twice. And yet, seemingly of their own volition as well, her feet pivoted so that they faced one another, though her gaze was fixed at his shoes. He was rocking, though she wondered why: was that how he expressed his nervousness, was it simply from giddiness, or was it paralleling the hum and haw of some other decision she wasn't aware of?
Was this the moment?
A ball of nervousness suddenly tightened in her chest at the thought. It was in public, and she wasn't ready, and she was probably sweating enough to overpower her perfume and deodorant, but it was in London, but she was shaking a little, but Gale, she wanted very much to show her affection by some other means than the far too simple hand hold, but should she really be thinking so much when--
So fast had she been brought under by her tumultuous thoughts that when Gale brought his hand to push some hair out of her face, Stormy couldn't remember what question he had asked; and that made her color more in embarrassment. "I-I don't fly, I fall with style," she mumbled, because her mind was the worst trap. And even that statement was something of a lie, because never had she fallen gracefully: not from the Silver Tower, not from the highs and lows of her old life. It was just an ideal, a parroted quote from Toy Story that she had uttered only because words brought out more words with familiar cadences to them, because she had been silent for far too long and knew that it would worry him. Think, think, think! What else could she say?
"It's not sound advice to ask an earth sign to help you fly either," she added. "The only thing of mine that flies anyway is my mind, but it's less flying and more watching the air leave a wild balloon." Unpredictable up until it ran out of steam and laid limp and useless.
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 6:27 pm
He hadn't met Evan yet, though Gale had to wonder if he was one of the ones that had tried figuring him out over Twitter the one time he had actually gotten back on (and then had later regretted, thanks to a bombarding of terrible puns and intrusive questions that he had casually deflected). But Evan, as much as he wanted to meet those that Stormy found dearest, was pushed to the back of Gale's mind at the current moment.
She wasn't looking at him, at least not directly, and he had to wonder if he was doing it wrong (whatever it was). He wasn't entirely certain when the moment would be, the one where he was supposed to (was that even the right way to put it) kiss her, or maybe just say something pleasant to her (which he already had, but second guessing everything made things all the more confusing) and he was most definitely thinking entirely too much about this yet again.
There was no one around but them, but still - it was in public, and he had never been one for public displays of affection, especially not after being at Deus for as long as he had and watching others parade their relationships like great spectacles to be watched and appreciated. Gale squeezed Stormy's fingers reassuringly, dropping his hand away from her face as he gave a low, light laugh.
"Sorry," he said, and took a step backwards, giving her a bit more room. "I got a bit carried away there. I didn't mean to make you nervous."
Leaning forward, he hesitated momentarily, and then kissed her forehead - a light, affectionate gesture that was neither too much nor too intrusive a thing to do when one was in a public place. He swung their clasped hands together and tilted his head to peer at her face in the dark, eyebrows raised.
"Still want to date me even after I stick my foot in my mouth?" he asked her. Metaphorically speaking, of course."
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 7:11 pm
A briefly alarmed look crossed her expression at his reaction, and she squeezed his hands even tighter as it to prevent his stepping back from breaking their hold. "Of course I do," Stormy answered hastily, her blush now rather fierce from compounding embarrassments: too slow to act, too lost in thought to answer, too often surrounded by silly doubts to realize how it affected Gale, who had nervousness of his own without her adding to it. Hadn't she told herself that morning that she would do everything to make sure it went smoothly? "I was just, ah . . ."
She took a deep breath and exhaled it in a sigh, her brows knitting as she raised her eyes. "I was doing exactly what I told you not to do: think too much," she explained apologetically. "I'm so sorry if that caused you some discomfort. Sometimes I make too many words, but other times I leave too many silences. Despite what you might think, I don't have much more experience about dating than you."
Stormy was praying for the blush to go away, but her cheeks continued to burn regardless.
"Is--Should we be making our way out?" she asked, noticing how dark it was starting to get.
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 7:18 pm
Somehow hearing that she was over thinking things at the same time he was made him feel better, Gale taking a step back towards her, though not nearly as close as he had been before. "I wasn't in discomfort," he said, and smiled. "Just a little worried I was rushing you or pressuring you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, y'know? Like when we're throwing food at each other or goofing off back at my place or your place, or when we're making snow dogs out of ice and whatever we have in our pockets."
He tugged on her hand, leading her away from the statue, which he cast a backwards glance at, his expression softening before he turned back to Stormy, the pair of them making their way back towards the gate and the street beyond.
"I over think things a lot," Gale admitted, after a few moments. "Which you already knew, but at the same time, it's a habit I haven't been really able to break yet." He tucked his free hand into the pocket of his pants, his feet hitting the cobblestone pathway with small clicking noises. "I always tell myself not to - you told me not to, and yet I still do. I'm always thinking of all possible outcomes of everything, from the best to the worst to the really outlandish and probably will never happen ever. It's a terrible habit, but there you have it."
He squeezed her fingers. "So what now? We go back to Deus, maybe watch a movie, or did you want to wander around London more? I left the rest of the night open for you to decide."
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 7:35 pm
That step was enough to alleviate her superficial fears and banish them as quickly as they had come. Shoulders slumping with relief, her apologetic look grew a smile. "If I wasn't comfortable, I wouldn't be holding your hand," she said simply. Or touching anything at all, rather.
"To be fair, overthinking is useful in Death, so don't try and completely eradicate it. Though, um . . ." Stormy hesitated as she was led along out of the garden, wondering how to casually slip this in. "Ah . . . If I ever stop . . . responding like I did back there, and I don't answer after a few tries to snap me out of it? I ask that whatever I end up doing, you don't leave me alone." That sounded base enough.
Glossing over it as quickly as she could, Stormy pondered over the freedom of choice he gave her, humming in thought. It was getting dark, and while she didn't know the time it was probably around that point where most stores were starting to close . . . While a walk through London in the evening sounded romantic, and while she had no reason to fear for things that went bump in the night, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous of the idea nevertheless; as if somehow their weapons wouldn't work in a normal setting, should they need them.
With another longer hum, she rested her head on his shoulder and looked up with childishly wide-eyes. "D'you want to see what's playing? I haven't watched a movie in forever, the two Nevada got me notwithstanding.
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 7:47 pm
Gale slowed to a stop, turning to look down at Stormy (which, if he was being honest, was not that very far at all, considering his own height). "I'll watch out for you," he said, and leaned to kiss her forehead again. "Just watch out for me too."
"And I won't leave you alone," he added, as he started walking again, a grin working its way across his face. "You can't get rid of me, no matter how hard you try, so me not leaving you alone is rather a moot point."
He liked the feel of her head against his shoulder, the way her hand fit with his, fingers clasped together. Gale's eyes flickered back and forth along the streets, passing over the people that walked here and there, narrowed slightly as though he were scrutinizing each and every one of them for potential threats.
But they were not at Deus, they were not at Halloween. This was London, on their first date, and so far everything had gone much better than Gale could have anticipated. And he didn't want the night to end, not yet. He had movies back on the island, but their selection was severely limited to whatever had been runically altered to fit the proper devices.
"There's a cinema just ahead," said Gale, gesturing with his head. "Come on, let's see if there's anything interesting. Your choice."
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 8:15 pm
Phew. "Brilliant," she said with a little smile, a spontaneous British impression coming upon her. Or at least Harry Potter. Sort of.
Keeping her head on Gale's shoulder, she turned her eyes to the large lit sign of what was playing, scanning most of the names without getting an impression. "I think I've been gone too long, most of this stuff is unfamiliar . . ." Red 2, The Heat, The Conjuring-- "They made a Smurfs movie?" Stormy commented with amusement and a soft chuckle. Well, anything could be adapted she supposed . . . Despicable Me 2 rang a vague bell from commercials in the past (though of the first one, not its sequel), The Wolverine made her think of the X-Men Origins one, though when her ex had taken her it hadn't been as good as his hype had put it . . . The World's End sounded terribly depressing, but Now You See Me sounded interesting--and that was when her eyes landed on two particular words.
Monster's University.
It called to mind one thing, but . . . No, that had to be coincidental. it was Stormy's turn to pull Gale along that night, hastening towards the ticketbooth to peer at the movie times and pictures accompanying. And there they were: Mike and Sulley and the familiar one-eyed M logo.
A high-pitched noise left her throat, 80% of it only audible to dogs.
"Oh my God, Monsters got a sequel."
No, Stormy had not gone to the human world outside of missions since she had awoken.
She looked to Gale, lighting up with excitement enough that she was bouncing on her heels, uncaring how childish that looked (or the strange looks she got for squealing to begin with from what few passersby there were). "I'm obligated to watch this now, but . . . If you don't want to, we could try something else and I'll just come back another day."
Her tone was not all that genuine in its offer of equality, her usual sincerity fading towards the end.
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 8:23 pm
"I've never heard of half of these," Gale murmured, squinting up a little at the titles written in bold font on each of the movie placards. He was looking curiously at one about the X-Men series when he heard a squeal coming from somewhere in Stormy's general direction. The next second he was being tugged along behind her, Gale glancing around to try and figure out what she was excited about this time.
"Monsters University?" he read, peering up at the picture. "Like Monsters, Inc.? I remember that movie, though it's been a while..."
He trailed off, catching sight of Stormy's starstruck face and her not-so-subtle attempts at trying to sound casual. Biting back a laugh, Gale slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a brief hug.
"You're cute," he said. "Come on, we can go watch it, you silly goose."
Then he tugged her into the theater.
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