[She wrinkles her nose a little.] I don't know, I'm pretty good at yelling at people.
[The thought of curling up against him, of letting her guard down a bit more occurs to her, yet she remains focused on the piano. Again, she stops. She spreads both of her hands across the keys, mentally flipping through the songs she knows she can play. The tune changes to something more upbeat, something more modern, as she bobs her head slightly in time.
Some people know the facts of her world. A few even know what she thinks of it, and how she's running from it. There's so much she wants to tell him, but she keeps stopping herself short. His opinion won't change of her, she knows, but the fear still preys on her mind: what if he does change? What would he think of her if she said to him that all she is really is a girl scared of herself and unsure of what to do next? She doesn't think herself brave, and kind isn't a word she'd use for herself either lately, not with what she'd become back home. So many people had so much faith in her, but what if she failed them all? The pressure of being... whatever they wanted her to be, or whatever they thought of her, weighed heavily on her.
Faith, in short, had run out long ago for her. Now, she doesn't know what to do with it.]
People thought of me as a weapon back home.
[Her eyes flicker. He didn't come here to listen to her grievances. She shoots him a crooked grin as she keeps playing.] But that's for another day. We're here to fix your dancing. Think you can handle it?
[ He glances at the keys as the music changes. At first he thinks that she’s done with the conversation and just wants to play. Then she speaks again and he hesitates, not sure what to say to that. In his world she wouldn’t have been supposed to fight, much less be a weapon. The thought of someone doing that to her, treating her as something that’s not even human, makes his blood boil.
He doesn’t even really react when she tries to change the subject. One of his shoulders lifts up in half a shrug, and that’s all. ]
I didn’t come to dance, I came for you.
[ His head tilts, while dark eyes settle on her. ]
You know that’s stupid. What they wanted from you. I don’t want you to think of yourself like that.
[The music pauses. Her fingers hover over the keys.
Yes. In ways you can't imagine. They hurt me over and over. They made me break and they put me back together. They put me back together to break me again.
To this day, she still doesn't know how long she'd been in the cells. Sometimes, she swears she'd been in the darkness for years. Other days, she wonders if it was real at all.
Hanna doesn't look at him now. She only shrugs. She has no physical scars to prove what had been done to her. She only has the memories and the clearly defined limits of her powers.
Her right index finger comes down on the piano softly. The tune is clearly unfinished, and the music barely progresses with how she continues.]
[ D’Artagnan watches her quietly. It’s clear that this is hard for her, and he wonders if he ought to stop pushing. Maybe it’s easier not to talk about it.
Then again, she had brought it up. Talking about how people saw her, how he saw her. How her people had treated her. It stands to reason she’d not have mentioned it if she didn’t want to talk about it, on some level. And he knows she’s had a lot on her mind since the end of Ajna. Maybe it brought up bad memories.
She seems so cheerful all the time. That can be as much a mask as sadness. Perhaps a better one, in truth. He runs his finger gently over her arm. ]
[She glances at his hand, taking note of how her skin didn't flare at his touch. How had d'Artagnan become the target of her emotions so often? She wonders if he'll ever tire of her. Maybe he's that much better than she'll ever be, because she's not sure if she could handle so much over and over. As it stands, simply going about each day has proven something of a blessing without recoiling or snarling at every turn. Some part of her suggests that maybe it doesn't matter, because he'll fade from her life too, just like everyone else has faded away over the years.
More had plagued her mind since the announcement of her probation and her training due in the Blackbox. She was at her happiest when she wasn't thinking of herself. Now, there seemed to be an excess of time dedicated to her future, her past... all of it.
Her heart tells her to dismantle. Her mind tells her to steel herself. Both are perfectly valid options in moving on, but neither felt completely right. He could pity her, to which she'd throw back at him as she wants no pity. He could leave, to which she could survive even if it stung.]
Did you always know you were going to be a Musketeer? Did you always just... know what you were going to be?
[There. That, at this moment, is the only thing that felt right to her in starting this way.]
[ That's really not what he expected, and his face shows it. But he smiles all the same, and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. ]
I grew up on a farm. When I was a child, I suppose I expected I'd take care of it one day. Like my father did.
[ His father. There's a spike of pain inside him at that, though not the kind that should be there. It used to come with the pain of grief. Now it's that much more complicated, knowing that his father lives again, and is held by the CDC. He pushes the thought away. ]
But he told me tales of heroes, and soldiers who fought for the good of France. I idolised them. I wanted to learn how to fight, and so he taught me. I learned the sword, I learned how to shoot. I knew I wanted that life.
I didn't know I would be a Musketeer, specifically. That want happened later, when I met Athos and the others in Paris. Then I wanted to be one of their band. They were men of honour. Once I saw that, saw how they lived and what they lived for, then there was no greater thing that I wanted. I knew from that moment on.
[She hums thoughtfully, taking in his story. The girl is hardly surprised: he seemed driven by honor and heroism at every turn. Did he ever see how good that made him? Could he ever see that? Neither of those traits are in abundance where she's from; there's only fear and malevolent power. Stories of heroes are rare, she remembers.]
I wanted to make music when I was little. I mean, I didn't know back then what it meant, but I just wanted to make noise. [She chuckles softly, shaking her head.] I ran around in diapers grabbing wooden spoons and banging on every metal surface in sight, I was a nightmare. I got older, I learned how to play more instruments, how to read music, I could even put together songs and take them apart. It was easy for me. I could see the strands of beats in my mind the way you'd see them vibrating on a screen. Stupid, I know, but that's what I saw.
[A beat. The memories of her ignoring her mother and arguing with her over her future surfaced in her mind's eye. Those became more frequent when she became older, but luckily Sam knew how to smooth things over.] Mom didn't want me to do that, though. She wanted me to be like her, taking over her place editing the magazine. Dad wanted my brother to be a doctor like him. [Her voice drops low as she straightens her back, clearly an imitation of her father.] "Son," he said, "you need to go out there and save lives." My brother was damn good at science and medical stuff, too, but you know what that shit did? He enlisted. He said, "Dad, you told me go save lives, and here I am, saving lives." Dad was pretty pissed but everyone thought he was so brave to enlist, so they couldn't do anything about it unless they wanted to look like assholes to the rest of the world. I'm pretty sure they had us just to continue their legacies. They must've not liked us being rebels like we were.
[She takes a breath. That part came easy. The rest... sometimes it was easier, sometimes it was harder.]
Then I got this. [Holding up a hand, she lights the tip of her finger with a little dancing flame.] No one knew about it for a long time, except for Sam. When my parents found out, it all went to shit. Becoming a rockstar musician was out of the question. I would have to learn how to fight if my parents turned me in. You're lucky you got what you wanted, d'Artagnan.
[ He’d known that before, but it still sticks badly in his throat. To turn against your own children like that is terrible. So many people that d’Artagnan knows here have awful memories of their parents. It’s sad. ]
You know I knew a man once who was so angry with his son that he killed him, and tried to frame him for the murder of hundreds of people. He planned to destroy the poorest part of town, and then be sponsored by the Church to rebuild it. If his plan had worked, he’d have made a fortune. People are terrible to each other. Even to their own.
[ That’s the thing about people. D’Artagnan knows that for every Athos among them, there’s a Gaudet. And not everyone gets the kind of protection they deserve. Why had no on protected Hanna? Why had she been left so alone? Why did she have to suffer, and then end up in a place like this? ]
I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted. This never should have happened to you.
[ He moves to hold her hand, the one with the flaming finger tip. He holds it, and then kisses it, on the back. ]
They should have been the ones to keep you safe, and instead they were the ones who hurt you. You deserve so much better than that.
[She felt her heart leap high and hit hard against her chest just then. The flame dies just as she curls her fingers around his. She's not sure if she'll ever be used to this type of affection.]
They would've made a fortune off me, too, had they turned me in. I could've been their endless supply of disposable income if I'd gotten good at fighting.
[Deep in her heart, she does know she deserves better, as do all the others abandoned and betrayed for the Circuit. But it would never happen, not there, and not now.
How was it easy to explain the Circuit to the others but not to him? Nothing said that he had to know, but to not tell him would feel as if she were being dishonest. There is no mystery to her, no allure or vagueness in her nature. It's not her.
She settles her forehead on his, pursing her lips. To put into words who and what she is proves no easy task, especially not for her. Necessity drove her to hide who she is.]
D'Artagnan, I told you I was a mess and I meant it. There's a lot you don't know about me. You're... [She falters. When was the last time she held a connection like this? Never, maybe? She'd been running since she was eighteen. Seven years of dodging your fate doesn't lend itself to much.] You're amazing, you're everything I could ever want, what every girl should have, but you don't deserve not knowing who I really am. Maybe you won't know it all until years from now, but if you want... if you're willing to put up with that...
[The statement hangs between them unfinished. She doesn't know how to put in useful words that she'd try, too, that maybe she wouldn't completely change, because she can't even guarantee that for herself, but she'd be there for him, no matter what. She struggles to say that he'll get her story someday, when she's okay with it, too.
Her heart almost literally aches as it hammers inside her. A part of her hates this, because she can't ever make the right sort of risk. It could backfire like everything else already has.]
[ He moves up beside her, still holding her hand, and meeting her eyes very intently. She is so, so afraid of herself. What does she think? That he would see her powers at their full strength, and turn away from her? Why would he do that? No matter how strong her powers are, she's still Hanna beneath them.
She's not being fair to herself. And what she's asking for...
if she's asking for what he thinks she is, then he's not being fair, either. ]
You don't know everything about me, either. It's been months, and still I don't suppose we talk about those things very much.
But you're right. We should. I want to know about you. And it's not a case of putting up with you, believe me.
[It's not her powers, or the full extent of them, that's the smallest of her fears; it's what she could become once she accepts there's only one place to go. That is one of the hardest things to admit.]
There's been too much to talk about ourselves.
[The impulse to leave him strikes quick again. She anchors herself, though, by willing the impulse dead. The idea of him being ever-present is... well, it's what she wants. The act is not so easy to follow on her part. Why she's so ready to run, she doesn't know.
She clears her throat before taking a quick breath. Beneath the hurt and the fear, she manages to pull a smirk through.]
Well, if you're looking for a story, I can tell you that I probably got into as much trouble in France as you did.
Oh, lots of times. As soon as I was old enough to attend a fashion show without jumping out of my seat.
[She rolls her eyes, thinking. France had been one of the places she remembered fondly. She had good memories from there, as well as Italy.]
So, I went to a party after I left home. France is like hundreds of miles from home, word hadn't gotten there yet, and they didn't really care once some our contacts found out about my powers. A lot still cared, though, and they didn't want me or my family going to the shows. Anyway, I crashed this party of someone who didn't want me there and I may have sort of, accidentally set some fireworks off meant for the next night by putting my hands on the boxes. Thinking about it, maybe it wasn't that much of an accident.
[Not a shining moment, not her worst moment either.]
I may or may not have had to pay fines for damages and disturbing the peace, as well as getting banned from the future shows from this guy. I've got loads more of those and from when I stayed in Italy during the summers, too.
[ He ought to be horrified by that. Setting off fireworks in the
middle of a party? That’s basically like setting bombs off, isn’t
it?
But the way she tells it, he can’t help himself. He starts to laugh,
instead. ]
For God’s sake, you’re lucky you weren’t arrested. Did they still have Red
Guards when you were there? I can see the Cardinal’s face now. He’d have
called you a witch, most likely.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[The thought of curling up against him, of letting her guard down a bit more occurs to her, yet she remains focused on the piano. Again, she stops. She spreads both of her hands across the keys, mentally flipping through the songs she knows she can play. The tune changes to something more upbeat, something more modern, as she bobs her head slightly in time.
Some people know the facts of her world. A few even know what she thinks of it, and how she's running from it. There's so much she wants to tell him, but she keeps stopping herself short. His opinion won't change of her, she knows, but the fear still preys on her mind: what if he does change? What would he think of her if she said to him that all she is really is a girl scared of herself and unsure of what to do next? She doesn't think herself brave, and kind isn't a word she'd use for herself either lately, not with what she'd become back home. So many people had so much faith in her, but what if she failed them all? The pressure of being... whatever they wanted her to be, or whatever they thought of her, weighed heavily on her.
Faith, in short, had run out long ago for her. Now, she doesn't know what to do with it.]
People thought of me as a weapon back home.
[Her eyes flicker. He didn't come here to listen to her grievances. She shoots him a crooked grin as she keeps playing.] But that's for another day. We're here to fix your dancing. Think you can handle it?
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He doesn’t even really react when she tries to change the subject. One of his shoulders lifts up in half a shrug, and that’s all. ]
I didn’t come to dance, I came for you.
[ His head tilts, while dark eyes settle on her. ]
You know that’s stupid. What they wanted from you. I don’t want you to think of yourself like that.
Did they hurt you?
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Yes. In ways you can't imagine. They hurt me over and over. They made me break and they put me back together. They put me back together to break me again.
To this day, she still doesn't know how long she'd been in the cells. Sometimes, she swears she'd been in the darkness for years. Other days, she wonders if it was real at all.
Hanna doesn't look at him now. She only shrugs. She has no physical scars to prove what had been done to her. She only has the memories and the clearly defined limits of her powers.
Her right index finger comes down on the piano softly. The tune is clearly unfinished, and the music barely progresses with how she continues.]
It's a long story.
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Then again, she had brought it up. Talking about how people saw her, how he saw her. How her people had treated her. It stands to reason she’d not have mentioned it if she didn’t want to talk about it, on some level. And he knows she’s had a lot on her mind since the end of Ajna. Maybe it brought up bad memories.
She seems so cheerful all the time. That can be as much a mask as sadness. Perhaps a better one, in truth. He runs his finger gently over her arm. ]
I have time to hear it. If you’d like.
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More had plagued her mind since the announcement of her probation and her training due in the Blackbox. She was at her happiest when she wasn't thinking of herself. Now, there seemed to be an excess of time dedicated to her future, her past... all of it.
Her heart tells her to dismantle. Her mind tells her to steel herself. Both are perfectly valid options in moving on, but neither felt completely right. He could pity her, to which she'd throw back at him as she wants no pity. He could leave, to which she could survive even if it stung.]
Did you always know you were going to be a Musketeer? Did you always just... know what you were going to be?
[There. That, at this moment, is the only thing that felt right to her in starting this way.]
no subject
I grew up on a farm. When I was a child, I suppose I expected I'd take care of it one day. Like my father did.
[ His father. There's a spike of pain inside him at that, though not the kind that should be there. It used to come with the pain of grief. Now it's that much more complicated, knowing that his father lives again, and is held by the CDC. He pushes the thought away. ]
But he told me tales of heroes, and soldiers who fought for the good of France. I idolised them. I wanted to learn how to fight, and so he taught me. I learned the sword, I learned how to shoot. I knew I wanted that life.
I didn't know I would be a Musketeer, specifically. That want happened later, when I met Athos and the others in Paris. Then I wanted to be one of their band. They were men of honour. Once I saw that, saw how they lived and what they lived for, then there was no greater thing that I wanted. I knew from that moment on.
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I wanted to make music when I was little. I mean, I didn't know back then what it meant, but I just wanted to make noise. [She chuckles softly, shaking her head.] I ran around in diapers grabbing wooden spoons and banging on every metal surface in sight, I was a nightmare. I got older, I learned how to play more instruments, how to read music, I could even put together songs and take them apart. It was easy for me. I could see the strands of beats in my mind the way you'd see them vibrating on a screen. Stupid, I know, but that's what I saw.
[A beat. The memories of her ignoring her mother and arguing with her over her future surfaced in her mind's eye. Those became more frequent when she became older, but luckily Sam knew how to smooth things over.] Mom didn't want me to do that, though. She wanted me to be like her, taking over her place editing the magazine. Dad wanted my brother to be a doctor like him. [Her voice drops low as she straightens her back, clearly an imitation of her father.] "Son," he said, "you need to go out there and save lives." My brother was damn good at science and medical stuff, too, but you know what that shit did? He enlisted. He said, "Dad, you told me go save lives, and here I am, saving lives." Dad was pretty pissed but everyone thought he was so brave to enlist, so they couldn't do anything about it unless they wanted to look like assholes to the rest of the world. I'm pretty sure they had us just to continue their legacies. They must've not liked us being rebels like we were.
[She takes a breath. That part came easy. The rest... sometimes it was easier, sometimes it was harder.]
Then I got this. [Holding up a hand, she lights the tip of her finger with a little dancing flame.] No one knew about it for a long time, except for Sam. When my parents found out, it all went to shit. Becoming a rockstar musician was out of the question. I would have to learn how to fight if my parents turned me in. You're lucky you got what you wanted, d'Artagnan.
no subject
[ He’d known that before, but it still sticks badly in his throat. To turn against your own children like that is terrible. So many people that d’Artagnan knows here have awful memories of their parents. It’s sad. ]
You know I knew a man once who was so angry with his son that he killed him, and tried to frame him for the murder of hundreds of people. He planned to destroy the poorest part of town, and then be sponsored by the Church to rebuild it. If his plan had worked, he’d have made a fortune. People are terrible to each other. Even to their own.
[ That’s the thing about people. D’Artagnan knows that for every Athos among them, there’s a Gaudet. And not everyone gets the kind of protection they deserve. Why had no on protected Hanna? Why had she been left so alone? Why did she have to suffer, and then end up in a place like this? ]
I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted. This never should have happened to you.
[ He moves to hold her hand, the one with the flaming finger tip. He holds it, and then kisses it, on the back. ]
They should have been the ones to keep you safe, and instead they were the ones who hurt you. You deserve so much better than that.
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They would've made a fortune off me, too, had they turned me in. I could've been their endless supply of disposable income if I'd gotten good at fighting.
[Deep in her heart, she does know she deserves better, as do all the others abandoned and betrayed for the Circuit. But it would never happen, not there, and not now.
How was it easy to explain the Circuit to the others but not to him? Nothing said that he had to know, but to not tell him would feel as if she were being dishonest. There is no mystery to her, no allure or vagueness in her nature. It's not her.
She settles her forehead on his, pursing her lips. To put into words who and what she is proves no easy task, especially not for her. Necessity drove her to hide who she is.]
D'Artagnan, I told you I was a mess and I meant it. There's a lot you don't know about me. You're... [She falters. When was the last time she held a connection like this? Never, maybe? She'd been running since she was eighteen. Seven years of dodging your fate doesn't lend itself to much.] You're amazing, you're everything I could ever want, what every girl should have, but you don't deserve not knowing who I really am. Maybe you won't know it all until years from now, but if you want... if you're willing to put up with that...
[The statement hangs between them unfinished. She doesn't know how to put in useful words that she'd try, too, that maybe she wouldn't completely change, because she can't even guarantee that for herself, but she'd be there for him, no matter what. She struggles to say that he'll get her story someday, when she's okay with it, too.
Her heart almost literally aches as it hammers inside her. A part of her hates this, because she can't ever make the right sort of risk. It could backfire like everything else already has.]
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[ He moves up beside her, still holding her hand, and meeting her eyes very intently. She is so, so afraid of herself. What does she think? That he would see her powers at their full strength, and turn away from her? Why would he do that? No matter how strong her powers are, she's still Hanna beneath them.
She's not being fair to herself. And what she's asking for...
if she's asking for what he thinks she is, then he's not being fair, either. ]
You don't know everything about me, either. It's been months, and still I don't suppose we talk about those things very much.
But you're right. We should. I want to know about you. And it's not a case of putting up with you, believe me.
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There's been too much to talk about ourselves.
[The impulse to leave him strikes quick again. She anchors herself, though, by willing the impulse dead. The idea of him being ever-present is... well, it's what she wants. The act is not so easy to follow on her part. Why she's so ready to run, she doesn't know.
She clears her throat before taking a quick breath. Beneath the hurt and the fear, she manages to pull a smirk through.]
Well, if you're looking for a story, I can tell you that I probably got into as much trouble in France as you did.
no subject
Really? I didn't even know you'd ever been to France.
What did you do?
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[She rolls her eyes, thinking. France had been one of the places she remembered fondly. She had good memories from there, as well as Italy.]
So, I went to a party after I left home. France is like hundreds of miles from home, word hadn't gotten there yet, and they didn't really care once some our contacts found out about my powers. A lot still cared, though, and they didn't want me or my family going to the shows. Anyway, I crashed this party of someone who didn't want me there and I may have sort of, accidentally set some fireworks off meant for the next night by putting my hands on the boxes. Thinking about it, maybe it wasn't that much of an accident.
[Not a shining moment, not her worst moment either.]
I may or may not have had to pay fines for damages and disturbing the peace, as well as getting banned from the future shows from this guy. I've got loads more of those and from when I stayed in Italy during the summers, too.
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[ He ought to be horrified by that. Setting off fireworks in the middle of a party? That’s basically like setting bombs off, isn’t it?
But the way she tells it, he can’t help himself. He starts to laugh, instead. ]
For God’s sake, you’re lucky you weren’t arrested. Did they still have Red Guards when you were there? I can see the Cardinal’s face now. He’d have called you a witch, most likely.
I can’t believe you did that.
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[And incredibly angry with bad habits, but she won't mention those. She frowns.]
Totally ruined one of my favorite dresses that night, too. And no, just cops. It would've been a bigger mess if I was arrested, trust me.
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[ He's never on the side of the Red Guards, anyway. And he's still smiling at her. ]
Personally, I think it sounds like fun.
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That depends. Who are we letting a firework off at, exactly?
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It made for a pretty light show. A lot of kids broke curfew to see that. It was pretty fun seeing the kids out there.
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Some things are worth breaking the rules for. And sometimes you just can't help yourself.
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