indispensible | five. spam & video. thank you for dancing 'til the end

spam } throughout lost in translation

[Unlike during some floods, Vin isn't hiding this time - not even close. She's fascinated by the varied languages she's hearing and is scouring the ship to hear as much as possible in the time she has. Admittedly she spends a greater proportion of her time above deck, in the gardens, and in the CES than anywhere else, but the only place she doesn't visit once is Zero. Everywhere else, she's watching and listening and occasionally muttering quietly in the language of Scadriel.]

video } public

[This is the Public Address voice/face, in which Vin is about 10% more social adept than at other times. There's eye contact happening, and that's pretty much all you can ask.]

Mark's gone, you know that, but before he left he . . . mentioned dancing. Dancing lessons, specifically. We talked for a while, and I still want to do them. There's only so much I can teach, because there's only so much I know, but I can start and other people can - teach other things. Later.

I'll be on deck later this afternoon, unless there's a better space.

[And what was the other thing.]

Wear comfortable clothes.

spam } deck

[Vin is, in fact, on deck, starting at around four in the afternoon, and even if nobody shows up she will at least be practicing various calisthenic-type exercises she learned from Ham. Once a small group gathers, she'll demonstrate a few simple steps - brusquely but effectively - of very old-fashioned ballroom-ish dancing. It's pretty clear she's not the best in the world at this teaching crap, but she's an excellent dancer (in part, but not whole, because of Mistborn cheating).]

( ooc; feel free to use the second spam as a somewhat-mingly thing!! i am cool with whatever, threadjack all over the place, do your thing, xoxo )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He nods and hangs up. A minute later he's at her room, knocking, the dress wrapped in plain brown paper. It's white, strewn with appliquéd pink hawthorns, a little less structured than dresses on Scadrial, as that seems to be the trend here, and better for flexible movement, but it's still suitable for elegant dancing, still has neatly concealed pockets for weapons and small ones for vials sewn under the larger flowers. He hovers in the doorway, holds the package out.]

Edited 2013-12-19 04:10 (UTC)

[If it were the promise of almost anything else, she'd wait and open it later, too confused at the prospect of a gift from Marsh after all that's happened to be able to face opening it in front of him. But this is such a specifically relevant present and one with such universally positive memories that she takes the package and tears the paper open in one swift movement. The fabric falls across her hands as the wrapping drifts to the floor.]

[Hawthorns. She can't look away.]

Kelsier said you seemed to like those best.

They're my favorite.

[She still doesn't really know what to say.]

You made -

Thank you.

[This is so impossibly perfect. She is so awkward. Help.]

[She likes it. He smiles.]

Good. That you like it.

Thank you.

[She can't say anything more intelligible than that. Unbidden, she blurts out:]

I have a favorite flower now. And you made . . .

It's so pretty. You're really - really good at this.

[It helped a little, after Kelsier died the first time, making things that would have made him and Mare smile. Frivolous, wasteful, but beautiful. And it was something to do that was a little less pointless, that ended with something real in his hands.]

It was the only thing I did, for a little while.

[Solemn, but not as sad, anymore.]

And you deserve something nice. That's all.

[She wishes she could do something for him in return. Really, she wishes she could take his pain away, but she's realistic: she knows it can't be done. That if it could, Sazed would have done it.]

[It would be easy, automatic, to argue with him. That she doesn't deserve nice things just for doing what felt like the right thing - what, more often than not, was the wrongest thing she could have done. But something that sounds like Elend speaks up at the back of her mind: he never said because anything. He just said she deserves.]

[Maybe she does, just because.]

[She rubs her thumb along the fabric.]

I've missed it. A lot. I could have found dresses somewhere, but it seemed like such a little thing . . .

[She misses so much. So much. Looking up at Marsh with a very small, watery smile, she pulls the dress to her chest like a child seeking comfort.]

Do you have a favorite flower?

I felt the same way, about making them. At first.

[And a while after.]

But Kelsier always championed the...frivolous things. But it's not little, if it males someone happy.

[Not just her. Happiness was rare and precious in the world - perhaps not as unusual as other worlds would like to admit, but it was certainly obvious, for them. At the question, he nods.]

I don't know - I haven't asked the name of it yet.

Edited 2013-12-28 05:59 (UTC)

You make people happy.

[She thinks he must, more than he imagines he does. Otherwise why would Nathan love him? And Nathan does love him. She knows.]

What does it look like?

[He's just. Not going to deal with that, really.]

It's a larger flower, with rounded petals but pointed at the ends, lots of them. It grows on the water, in that little shallow pool.

[It's the lotus.]

[She doesn't know the name of it off the top of her head yet, but she knows the flower he means. Frowning seriously, she nods.]

I'll figure it out. I'll look it up.

[She can do research. She's better at that now.]

That way you'll know.

[He doesn't need to know, particularly, or he would have asked earlier. But it would be nice, he supposes, so he nods.]

Thank you.

five. spam & video. thank you for dancing 'til the end

=> spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam

spam