sampippy | A Dorm Room at Voorhees Hall, Columbia University, New York, Sunday

...Hyacinthe's mother had come from another world through technology she couldn't understand, to listen to a ceremony in a language she didn't speak, just to be there.

Hya would never say that aloud, but, yeah, he was definitely judging Xan's father. (Not that he had stones to throw as far as fathers went).

"I am sorry they missed it," he said, and then clarified, "for them. Because they did not see how you glowed when you accepted your diploma and the way the light caught your hair and limned you all in gold."

His mother was a better person than any of her parental figures, and she'd probably admit that willingly if asked.

"Thanks," she said, a little muted, somehow. "I doubt it really looked like that, though."

Edited 2019-03-15 23:56 (UTC)

"It was enough that I noticed," he said softly. No flattery, no smile, just words.

Did he know how glaringly obvious just the manner he said that made how little anyone else seemed to care about her?

She leaned over, leaned in, to kiss him.

No? But then, that was not his intent. Never would be. He simply wanted her to know that he cared.

He poured caring into the kiss, in the way his hands cupped her cheeks, the fingers in her hair.

Xanthippe reached out and got her fingers in his hair, too, tangling them up in the curls.

Maybe there was something grateful about the kiss, on her part. Something soft and a little needy.

Hyacinthe was happy to respond in kind. He hadn't meant to hurt her or make her feel bad; he just couldn't help but notice how unhappy she was.

"Whatever it is that you do or wish to do, I'll be in your corner, always," he murmured.

"Thank you."

Okay, so she had to say it out loud, after he'd said that. But she mumbled it against his lips, unwilling to pull back.

In part because that would've meant opening her eyes, and revealing their sudden sheen.

His heart broken a little anyway at her fervor. Where was her family, her people, who should be offering her this support as a matter of course?

Ah right. In Switzerland and consumed by other concerns.

So he just kissed her again, slow and sweet. If he could offer nothing else, he could at least be here, with her, utterly present in the moment.

On the plus side, now he knew sort of what to do if he ever found himself in a situation of needing to raise some neurotic and desperate overachievers?

Xanthippe let herself be a little lost in the kiss for a moment. Then she cupped his cheek and pulled back a little, to look at him.

"Hey. Can I ask you something?"

....Nooo. That did not seem like a thing he would ever need to do.

"Mais oui. Of course. You can ask me anything, cherie."

"What's a dromonde?"

See, she actually listened to him. Wasn't entirely sure why that particular bit had stuck in her brain even through the personal turmoil of their discussion just now, except for a desire to better get him and where he came from.

So she was asking.

"The ability to part the mists or time and see backwards and forwards in it, alone the road of someone's life," Hyacinthe said softly. There was no humor in his voice, no smiles now; the dromande - and his mother's ability to read it - were among the very few things he took completely seriously. "Tsingano women with the gift to use it will often read gadje fortunes for coin."

Xanthippe hadn't expected any humor, either. The context in which he'd mentioned it before had kind of made her assume it was something serious.

"Oh, wow," she said. "Is that, like... common?"

Please note how Fandom had at least made her really accepting of things like fortune-telling being a completely legit thing in some places. She didn't question it one bit.

"Among my mother's people?" Hyacinthe asked. He waggled his hand in the air."Fairly so; there are usually a few Tsingano girls spread throughout the clans that have at least a touch of it. But none in generations had the ability to the same extent my mother does."

"Huh."

On impulse, she reached for his hand, to, hold it in one of hers and run the fingertips of the other along the back of it. "And it's just women?" she asked. "Or, girls."

Then her nose wrinkled up some. "Wait, and people actually want to hear about their futures?"

"'Tis vrajna for boys to learn," Hyacinthe said carefully. "Forbidden. So, if a boy is born with the skill, it would go against all rules and customs for his mother to teach him how to wield it. But it would not be impossible."

"Well, a professor whose class I took last semester kept telling us how much more magical women are than men," Xanthippe replied with a slight drawl, her head tilted, her gaze on the back of his hand. The contrast of her skin against his, how the warmth of his made hers seem to have even more of a pallor than usual.

"But I think that was more because she's a lesbian than anything else."

Hyacinthe smiled up at her, chuckling. "Then, would my opinion be suspect, too?" he teased. "For I am much a lover of women as well."

...And men. And no gender at all. Hya just liked people, ones with the spark that made them interesting and exciting and fun.

"But, nay. The trait can be inherited by either sex. But the dromonde is both a gift and a curse, and since 'twas the men's fault it was given, no man is supposed to be taught."

'Supposed' was stressed just the slightest bit.

"Pretty sure you're not straight, Hya," Xanthippe replied, looking up again. They hadn't ever talked about it, but he had, like, the queerest vibe of everyone she knew. (And the fact that she thought that, and the reasons for why she did, probably both raised some questions about what her own identity might have been if she hadn't been so high-strung about even getting close to members of one gender.) "So I'm pretty sure you think everyone's magical."

Or, you know. Not everyone, but regardless of gender, anyway.

Her head stayed tilted a little. "So what happens if someone does what they're not supposed to?"

"I think everyone is magical, in their own way," Hya agreed with a smile. "That's why they're all so attractive. But, nay. 'Tis rare in Terre D'Ange for someone to exclusively be attracted to one gender. Some may have a stronger preference for one or another, but exclusively? Not at all. Love as thou wilt is the law of the land, after all."

He leaned against her. Stroked her hair. "If they were raised within a kumpania and were discovered, likely they would be made outcast, punished by exile from all the kumpai," he said quietly. "If they were not raised within a kumpania for one reason or another, they would still need to keep it quiet, most likely. For no kumpania would trade or do business with them, marked vrajna as they'd be, nor would they ever allowed to join one, even if they were blood kin."

Xanthippe was watching him closely as he spoke. (And only got distracted by how pretty he was up-close for like, a second.) It said something about her interest in him that she didn't need to ask him what a kumpania was. She remembered from last time.

She remembered several things from last time, in fact.

Her eyebrows were knitting together a little, again. Like she was putting things together and then wondering if the things were even there, and if they were, was it really even her place? So she wasn't asking.

But maybe there was a question on her face all the same.

"Yes," he said quietly. "The answer to the question in your eyes is yes. I am my mother's son in truth."

He let out a breath of a laugh. "I should perhaps say the answer to both questions in your eyes."

The dromonde was strong in him, too. And came when he called - and sometimes when he did not - thanks to his mother's teachings.

"Oh."

Well, she'd already put it together herself, but there was still something in her that was surprised that he'd actually confirm it. To her.

But there was also something in her that reminded her that she was completely outside his world, so it wasn't as if her knowing would pose much of a threat to him.

His hand was still between hers. She went to lace her fingers with his. "How does that... feel, I guess? Looking through time."

Hyacinthe blinked at her a moment - and then smiled. "No one's ever asked me that before," he said, almost a little shyly. "Tis a humbling thing. For a moment, there is just this feeling of vastness, like staring at the sea. Time is so big and I am so very small. But then I see what 'twas I was meant to and that feeling vanishes."

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