( barma may have his silk coats and pillows, but oz looks very thoroughly exile by now, just days shy of the ten month mark in this world. he's got the one frock coat in which he'd arrived in september back, borrowed to caesar at vanadi's fateful party, but that's all; the venetian finery is lost in a cold united earth facility, and anything else didn't survive the trip to the moon or didn't exist in the first place. it's locally-made shirts and trousers for him now, long-sleeved against the weather there and chill here, brightened primarily by a familiar gold chain that jangles musically when he moves just so, evidence of jack's pocket watch still never leaving his person. his hair wants trimming, and his boots — local again, it's only been dress shoes that he's brought in from reveil — make his approach audible enough.
(not things he's thought to notice in recent months until now, not even with alice's arrival; but then barma hasn't seen him splattered with gil's and his own blood, clothes ragged from low-ranking chains, hasn't at all besides the luxury that a scion of vessalius house would be expected to wear.)
the additional steaming cup doesn't go unnoticed, scarcely gives him pause; this may be a farce of a meeting between members of two of the four highest ranking families outside of the reigning one, but at least it's a proper one. not surprising that barma would think of the abyss, looking out at space, even if it stiffens his shoulders and makes his steps feel heavier, because it's true — there's no one in pandora who'd look at this view and think of anything else. )
Does it? I didn't know. ( a lie. ) It's a surprise to hear you volunteering information for free.
( on a chuckle, like they're friends, and he sits himself and picks up the cup. he neither drinks it nor looks outside, sits up straight so he doesn't have to lean as barma does, and lets the steam tickle his face. )
ACTION, BABY!!
(not things he's thought to notice in recent months until now, not even with alice's arrival; but then barma hasn't seen him splattered with gil's and his own blood, clothes ragged from low-ranking chains, hasn't at all besides the luxury that a scion of vessalius house would be expected to wear.)
the additional steaming cup doesn't go unnoticed, scarcely gives him pause; this may be a farce of a meeting between members of two of the four highest ranking families outside of the reigning one, but at least it's a proper one. not surprising that barma would think of the abyss, looking out at space, even if it stiffens his shoulders and makes his steps feel heavier, because it's true — there's no one in pandora who'd look at this view and think of anything else. )
Does it? I didn't know. ( a lie. ) It's a surprise to hear you volunteering information for free.
( on a chuckle, like they're friends, and he sits himself and picks up the cup. he neither drinks it nor looks outside, sits up straight so he doesn't have to lean as barma does, and lets the steam tickle his face. )