chokedout | (no subject)

Oh, used to it and excel at it, I think. Judging plainly by the fact I now have the perfect night-walk partner.

[Grinning, Theo leans ever so slightly Harry's way.]

I don't see why people should act any other way. We're all trapped here all the same - might as well make friends over enemies, no?

I usually pride myself on avoiding such manipulations, but in this case I'm not about to complain.

[Night walks mean not having to sleep. That means no dreams.]

That is undoubtedly the best attitude. I quite agree.

[Oblivious.]

Shall we start out walks tonight?

[Eyelash batting.]

Would it be terribly self-serving to request you be my personal physician here? I know you're a surgeon, but I feel a certain affinity toward you. A trust.

Certainly, if you like.

Well. I'm hardly qualified to prescribe any modern medicines to you yet.

Your company's enough of a prescription for now.

If you don't mind me taking a little bit to get ready, I'll be free to join you any time. Make yourself at home - want a drink or a smoke?

That's very kind.

Oh, certainly, take your time.

[He smiles and shakes his head.] No, thank you. I never developed a taste for the latter, and I don't often drink.

[Theo spends another moment just sitting there, admiring Harry, before he pushes forward to stand - catching his robe as it slips down his hips, keeping the silk barely there as he walks toward the adjoining bath. He looks back to Harry, wagging a finger and saying be right back before he disappears through the doorway to pilfer from his and Cellar's shared closet.

He returns in one of Cellar's t-shirts, dark cargo pants, a cream cardigan and... socks and slides. Listen, sometimes you're just not in the mood for real shoes. And Crocs in this era aren't cool yet. The glimmer to his skin isn't a glamor but instead a shimmery cologne, put on just for Goodsir.]

Think I'll be warm enough? Nights can still be breezy.

[As if Harry Goodsir would try and sneak a peek at a young man changing! No, he studies the decor instead. (He can't quite bring himself to snoop properly, but the urge is there.)

When Theo returns he can only look at him with eyebrows slightly raised. Clothes here are so strange. He has to acknowledge that he himself is used to several layers that the climate just doesn't need, but even divested of outerwear he's used to at least three.]

I believe you should be alright.

[He stands, sparing Theo a thoughtful once over as they head for the door.]

And this is, ah. Fashionable, yes?

Mm, yes! For this time - or well, my time, at least.

[Theo gets the door, holding it open for Harry. He flicks his eyes over him again.]

I suppose I should be honest with you - I've got a bit of lore to me. I know what it's like to exist in different eras - I've lived through a great deal of them. I do miss waistcoats sometimes?

Which is different than this time?

[At that Goodsir looks both surprised and intrigued.]

You have? So it's possible you were alive in my time? I died in 1848, if that's helpful.

How are you able to live so long? And my goodness, that must make you very old indeed.

[The slightest of egotistical winces because goddamn, critical damage.]

Ah, well. Yes and no?

[He screws up his face for a moment, then gestures into the air - walking close to Harry's side as they move down the corridor of rooms. By now it's nothing new to him to share the truth of his story, but it still feels like a challenge every time, trying to word it just right.]

Do you believe in reincarnation?

[Slowly:] I didn't. But I daresay I've seen enough that I could, now.

You, ah. Live and die, then? But you remember it all?

[Excuse him as he clasps your arm, Harry.]

Yes, just like that. I was caught up in a curse-spell and have yet to find my way out of it. Every time I'm reborn, life's a bit different. Name a decade and I'd probably have an insight for you about it. Some memories stick better than others, of course. The most recent are the most fresh.

[He allows it, assuming Theo needs the emotional support.]

I am curious about all of them, frankly, but... Did you experience 1348? 49?

[This dork really asking about the black plague.]

I barely remember what I did in 2016, you might have to give me some hints.

[Ie, he's but a girl and what do you expect him to know, dates?]

[He laughs softly.]

Sorry. To be honest, I'm not even sure what I want to know. There's so much. I've missed... everything, it feels. All that I knew is gone.

Some of it is very difficult to adapt to.

Ah, that much I can relate to.

[Starting afresh - no matter the current flurry of lives, Theo will always remember his first the clearest of them all. And it's a far cry from where he is now, Fendi sunglasses in his pocket and solid gold rings on his nightstand.]

You get used to it. Bit by bit - it feels a lot like a swarm of emotion and feeling at first, but clear heads prevail. Technology boomed the most in the last hundred or so years to this era, at least I think so? Don't quote me. But we went from handwritten notes to emails sent via smart-watch within a human lifetime. So.

[There?]

... I miss handwritten letters. I still send those a lot. Want to be penpals?

[A sweet, shy smile at that.]

If you like. I've always been quite fond of letters. I used to write to my brother frequently.

[Having reached the manor entrance, Goodsir holds the door for Theo and then joins him outside. The air is crisp and the vague scent of tree blossoms lingers on it.]

It really is quite lovely here. So very green.

[Score, one step closer to Goodsir's heart. And butt.]

I've never had siblings. At least that I can remember.

[Curse-rules make for certain things to stay parallel in every life.]

I like it here. It seems posh, stuck-up, even. But there's beauty to that, too?

[The heart is stored in the butt.]

Do your parents ever know? That you've, ah, reincarnated?

[Goodsir's head turns as he looks around at the well manicured lawn, then to the surrounding landscape.]

Oh, it's very posh. I've never been in a place like this before! But where they've let nature retain some of her spirit... Yes. It's beautiful.

Mm, no. I don't usually tell anyone...

[They don't believe him. He gets grippy sock vacations. Worse, they believe him and he makes them need grippy sock vacations. Theo's quiet for a beat - he knows the way he's approached recent lives is a bit callous. So many parents, so many people, for a while he stopped seeing them as people and more like roles. NPCs. He's only recently snapped out of this apathy.]

I'm looking forward to the warmth of summer to come back. I'm overdue for more picnics, you know?

I suppose it is rather difficult to explain.

[Goodsir favours Theo with a bright smile. It makes him look younger.]

Oh, yes. I am very much looking forward to an English summer. [Not one under a brutal sky, on a barren land, in a ragged tent.]

As the Balfours are quite well-to-do I'm certain there will be plenty of opportunities for you to picnic. I suspect the lake will be rather popular. ...I must ask, as you are a modern man, what does one wear swimming?

Oh, it depends.

[A sly smile:]

You'll come to realize I'm a little more extroverted than others. Sometimes I wear little to nothing at all. But a pair of swim trunks can't do you wrong. You'd like to swim, hm?

Ah. Even if there are women present? [Because this is what concerns him! Ladies being present!]

I think I would, yes.

Especially with girls present.

[Though, thoughtfully:]

You're going to have some adjusting to do when you see a bikini.