sirenspull | video.

Entry tags:

video.

[It's a bit early - maybe too early to be up if you haven't any pressing business for the day - and so Alois is still in his nightgown, cream-colored and lace-collared, sitting at a vanity with a cup of morning tea. It's still steaming. The bedroom around him is all in lavenders, and he's staring idly to the left of the camera at the flower-hued wallpaper. His cheek is in his hand, elbow on the dresser.]

When did you realize you'd never see home again? [he asks, and dips a spoon into his tea.] I mean, right, maybe we'll all go back, maybe something will happen, maybe maybe maybe, but while you're here, you'll never see it again. When did that hit you for real? When did it work its way through your teeth and tongue and up into your head? Or hasn't it yet...

[Clink, clink, goes his spoon.]

About a ten hour flight, and I could be there, you know. I looked it up and everything. I'm less than half a day away from my home, but people are touring it every day, walking through my gardens and all the things they rearranged in my rooms. Well, not every day. Wednesday through Sunday, eleven a.m. to four p.m. I looked it up on the website. They're even decorating for Christmas, though they're closed on the holiday...

[His face goes strange, a wrinkling of his nose and a tug of his lips. The spoon stills.] I can look at pictures, and look at everything they've done to it, but that's all, just pictures. I'm not even so far away, not really, but I can't ever go and see it. It was over a hundred years ago; it doesn't smell like me anymore, doesn't look like I lived there at all. Like it was never mine, just a bit of history, just like I wasn't actually there, no portraits or family crest, and doesn't that make sense, sort of? Because I'm here now.

—Comes with having a famous house, I suppose, but...

[Finally, he flicks his eyes up toward the camera, and reaches for it.]

They say, 'My home is my castle,' but where can we even hold court here? [The end.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, my God, it looks like something out of a storybook! That's so beautiful...

[She pauses, running a hand over this picture as well, trying to imagine what it might have been like.]

Did you visit the gardens a lot? Did you go swimming in the lake? It's awful they let them die, that's so sad.

I visited the gardens all the time. Picking flowers and catching butterflies... It was always bright, even on rainy days, and it always smelled good.

[He traces, too, though idly, and at the book's edge. His cheek is in his hand again.]

I never went swimming properly, not in the lake. There were swans. But we - But I went out on a boat... [And dancing on the water. That night, it was okay, that Claude wasn't human.

He taps his finger lightly against the page.]

I used to visit the wood, too. The trees were so old and sturdy, it was like an audience of quiet gods. And there were bluebells... But Claude said the wood was dangerous. After a while, I couldn't go as often.

[His eyes shut.]

They can talk all they want about preserving history, but they'll never know what all that was like.

Oh, I bet it was beautiful watching the swans swim around on the lake though. Swans are so nice to look at, you know? Really graceful. Flowers and butterflies sound amazing, too, and the boat, and the woods... It's not fair that he didn't let you go out. I can see why you'd miss it, it seems gorgeous.

[Her voice is warm and gentle, a bit awed at how magnificent what she's seeing is. She takes a pause.]

You know, I think when I realized for certain that I wasn't going to see it for a while - my home, I mean - I'd already been here so long and knew so many people that it didn't seem quite so awful as it would have at first. For you, it's nice that you can still look at it, though. I'm glad.

Homes are... hard. [He takes to his tea again.] I just want - I want this to be a good one.

It is a good one. Even the dormitories back home weren't this big, and not decorated like this, either.

But you must miss it a lot, someplace that beautiful.

You know, it was always just me. A house that big, and it was always just me. I really loved my manor, [was so proud of himself for earning the right to live there, to own it,] but I... —It was such a big place.

It just, I don't know. I could go there, if I wanted. I could take an airplane and go there, it's that close. But I'll never be able to. It's so weird, thinking about it like that. It's not mine anymore, it's been years and years and years since it's been mine. Here, in this place - world, whatever - maybe it wasn't ever mine at all. "Dignity and Restraint," those are my family words. I don't know if that house has either of those things, though.

I wanted this house - this house, here - I wanted it to be perfect. It's always lively, and the kitchen always smells good, and people talk and laugh and maybe cry when they think know one's around to hear. They read things and fight things and have their own stuff about... I realized I wanted that.

But I do miss it. I miss my earldom. I miss the things I inherited, [stole,] and the things I loved a lot, [which Claude fashioned perfectly.]

[She pauses, listening, taking that all in, and then nods, standing up and beckoning him to do the same.]

Come on.

Eh - [But, compliant, he pushes his tea away again, and pushes up and out of his chair, too.] Why, what?

You gotta get dressed, we're leaving!

Leaving! To where—

[But, peering at her, he realizes he trusts her inherently - at least, in things like this.]

Fine, let me get some trousers and my coat and... [To the wardrobe.]

I'll wait outside the door.

[And, true to her word, she hurries out and closes it behind her.]

[He comes out quite quickly, taking only time enough for a blouse, pedal pushers, thick socks, and an over coat; at the last minute, he grabs a long muffler, just in case. Tapping his boots till they're on comfortably, he pats himself down, and then heads out the door.]

There, sorry. Do we need to call for a car, or...

No, let's take the subway!

Fine, fine. Awfully sudden of you, what is it? [Off down the hall.]

You'll see! It's a surprise. [She's walking ahead of him slightly, obviously cheerful.]

Scheming, are we? I'm impressed.

It's not scheming if it's a good thing! Then it's, um, planning.

[Aaaand out the door.]

Ahiru's scheming! [he crows, ignoring her;] All for my sad sake! Off to a good start to the day already, aren't we?

I-I'm not! And even if I were, your sake isn't sad!

[Down the street they go!]

You think? What's my sake, is it a fancy sake or a silly sake or what?

[Over her shoulder, she looks back at him with a gentle smile.]

I'd say it's a pretty worthwhile sake.

Of course you would. [But he keeps from sounding self-deprecating.]

You know, I - I mean, even though I miss England - I like it here. I like all of us here.

It's the same with me and Germany. I mean, most everyone here is so kind... I don't think I'd want to go back.

Oh, I think we're almost to the subway!

I'll pay the fare, shall I?

Oh, no, I have one of those monthly things!

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;