sweethymns | OPEN RP POST SIX

[Telepathy Rule No. 1: You don't take what you hear personally. And if you do, you don't show the offense on your face. Surprisingly, Dom veers more towards the former, even after years upon years of direct and indirect negativity.

He grins at Claude, perhaps a bit too eagerly due to the interest that sparks in his eyes, leaning forward and resting one arm on the table.]

It's not a new discovery, but I'll agree with you about it being the best.

[Next, he pats at the spot across from himself.]

Two's a company right? I don't mind sharing the best seat in the house. Looks like your side's been seeing some rain. We got a thunderstorm recently too and I say it's about time.

[Telepathy Rule No. 2: You don't give hints about what you hear. If you do, it's something that can be easily deduced.

The details on the blonde man's jacket say enough and are safe to pick up on. The other points of interest however...]

Edited 2018-10-20 04:15 (UTC)

[ Claude's mind is a library: his thoughts are usually well-organized, put together like labeled files in cabinets. There's a smooth progression from emotion to events, from recollections to the feeling it evokes— this time, the transition is clear.

> Knowing that this seat has a clear view of Iona
> (potential suitor?)
> Sharing a seat
> (bothersome.)
> Noticing the rain
> (he's observant. empathetic.)

Claude, mob doctor, trained to make assessments at the drop of a hat. He's also well-bred, so he doesn't refuse the offer; scoping people our is always important, even if he may not follow up.

A smile and a nod, and he makes his way to the empty seat opposite of this stranger. ]

I'm no fan of the rain, but it keeps the troublemakers at home.

[ Vague and slightly offputting?? Maybe?? Claude adjusts his gloves around his wrists as he settles down. ]

And do try not to trouble yourself with conversation if I've interrupted anything. I'll be out of your hair in minutes.

[Dominique has waded through an ocean's worth of thoughts and emotions that one would imagine that people were no longer a novelty to him. But for the time being, every single drop in said ocean has been fascinating to him one way or another. Another way to describe it, that people were unwilling, open books.

Sure, like the physical object, there are people who are hardly worth the time sifting through, but more often than not, being able to peek at the pages of someone's psyche acting out in their head was just like reading an intriguing excerpt of who they are.

It is unfortunate, for Claude Aubert, that Dom finds his organized and controlled thoughts instantly interesting.

He responds with ease and without the awkward pause, less practiced telepaths were prone to.]

Nah, you're good. I was just catching up with Oren over there.

[A casual thumb gestures to the golem who is very pointedly ignoring him.]

In a manner of speaking. I'm surprised he let me sit here at all.

[ Oh, Claude's noticed Oren's silence. There's usually some form of acknowledgement from that impossibly handsome face when a customer walks in, but the golem hasn't been receptive at all to this side of the room since Claude's walked in.

Interesting.

A grudge? Claude wonders— the only reason Oren would hold onto any ill-will is if Iona is involved, which immediately makes this a topic that Claude is invested in.

The smile that curls the corner of Claude's lips isn't exactly unkind, but it isn't welcoming, either. Too curious to be polite, too polite to be casual. ]

Oh? He doesn't seem to be the sort to be rude to his customers.

[ A sideways snipe at Oren, to be honest... he's eating this up, who gave him the opportunity to be passagg at everyone at the same time?? It's Christmas come early. ]

You must have done something especially heinous.

[What a nasty smile.

... Is what Dominique is unabashedly thinking in his own head. But another follows just as quickly.

What a funny guy.

Passive aggressiveness is an amusing road to navigate. He picks up his mug, shrugging before taking a sip.]

Who hasn't? And when it comes to our rocky friend here, it's not difficult to get on his bad side.

And with the way you go about it, it's not gonna work on him.

[Or on Dom for that matter.]

[ Oh, that grates. There's nothing worse than having someone read your strategy right out of the gate, and Claude shows his annoyance in the way his expression turns pure neutral for a blink-and-miss it second.

Without Iona to lower his walls, he's still very much unapproachable. The difference between Claude of the past and Claude of now is that he takes a mental millisecond to remember how Iona would react if she saw him being abrasive in her cafe: this is her home, and he doesn't want to track mud all over it with his attitude. He respects her enough to know better.

His shoulders lower, tension releasing in increments. ]

I'm aware. Believe me when I say I've tried.

[ Oren never breaks pokerface, not really— Gus is the one that's been more successful in that department, strangely. ]

You've piqued my curiosity, however. What's given a man like you such a poor reputation?

[He gives Claude a rueful smile.

What a strange feeling, knowing that this man thinks more about the owner of the cafe, more than he would ever admit or realize?]

Funny you should ask that before you know my name.

But if you must know... [He makes a dramatic gesture with his hand.]

I'm a smoker. Not very welcome in an establishment like this.

[Okay, that's clearly not it, but it seems he's being flippant for the sake of it.]

[ Oh, this guy is good. Claude can see someone like him excelling back in his city, inscrutable flippancy and all.

So he laughs about it. Low and reedy. ]

Very heinous.

[ He points to the tables around them, at the seats that are occasionally occupied by the young and even younger. ]

Have you no regard for the children who are always here? Monstrous.

[Dominique would excel in Paris for one very prominent reason, one he is quite good at hiding for a long duration.

He gestures with his hand again as if waving off the notion.]

Yeah, yeah, won't someone think of the children? I never smoke in here of course. The owner asked me to do that much.

[Also, it'll kill him, but still... Still...!!

(A cheap cigarette calms his nerves, it's a minute escape, it's something to focus on when there's too much to listen in on and...)

He leans back in his seat, mug of coffee in one hand and his other arm resting on the back of his chair.]

¡Hola! Mi nombre es Dominique.

[The man grins, dark eyes twinkling.]

Dominique Vargas to be exact! Everyone mostly calls me Dom. And you are...?

[He's being equal parts friendly and glib because in the case of the latter, he already knows.]

Edited 2018-10-30 04:58 (UTC)

[ Claude'd very purposefully omitted both his name and a request for Dom's, but here he is, cornered into an introduction. A mental click of his tongue later ("do we really?"), and he's slowly giving out his name.

He notes the Spanish, and returns his introduction in kind. ]

Claude Aubert. A pleasure to meet you.

[ Lightly accented, a little old-fashioned. He's a bit rusty. ]

You're quite the friendly sort, aren't you?

Huh. Not too shabby, Claude. [He seems pleased by the greeting.]

And you think so? I hope I come across that way.

[It's too easy with his "condition" to be stiff-lipped and cynical. Well, he is, but not as much as he used to be. He learned early on that he hated being lonely when it was so easy to alienate and be alienated.]

Is it too off-putting for ya?

Not quite.

[ That's not a 'no'. Claude is to wary of people with sunny dispositions, especially the sort that he can't read— they're either hiding something, or live a life that's completely different from his own. Either way, he doesn't want to try to relate.

He gives up on having some one-on-one with Iona for the day. The cake will wait, as will the little gift in his pocket. A tiny box with a single macaron in it, kept safe from the damp. ]

I'm just inclined to wonder if it's overcompensation.

Ah, shit. [He chuckles it off and takes another swig of coffee.]

Guess I'd make anyone think that, huh? Well, you're not entirely wrong, but I do try to level with people.

[In that organized library of thought, there's a hidden gem and anomaly. Dom knows Claude is thinking about his gift, how it's safe from the rain, how he was going to give it to her how he'd rather see her instead of him, an overcompensating stranger...

... Again, he's equal parts of paradoxical feelings. One part feels touched, relieved that there is someone who thinks of her. Another part is...]

Jackie's sunshine kinda rubbed off me. And if you're waiting for her, she'll probably come soon.

[He slips, just a bit. There's enough happenstance to cover for Dom, but it's a slip nonetheless.]

[ How odd— it's like this stranger just read his mind.

Claude tenses just under the cover of the counter, fingers tightening in the fabric of his jacket before they loosen, knuckle by knuckle. Dom's guess is a good one, but it's not unreasonable: this table does have a good view of Iona, and he has been rather distant this entire time despite the fact that he quite obviously knows Oren and the mistress of the proverbial house. Context clues could've been enough.

Still, he drops his smile enough that his wariness shows. Polite, but guarded. ]

I see. Miss Oakes' disposition does seem to be somewhat of a contagion.

[ Why does he have to say it like this... The use of her last name instead of her first is also deliberate, as a way to distance. ]

Are you also waiting for her?

[He calls her by her first name.

It's too easy to build a profile of someone for Dominique. It's almost sickening.]

Yeah. Dropping by and saying my hellos since it's been a while.

[Her texts and voicemails had become less frequent over the years, but Iona had made it a point even after their separation, to see how he was doing, where he was for that matter, and generally just making sure Dom was still alive and kicking. She did have the magic and resources to track him down successfully, but she never invaded his space. She had tried waiting for him even after it became clear things couldn't be the same between them.]

She just likes making sure I'm not going full hermit in my art studio. Or, if I happen to be outside, I'm not getting into any trouble.

[ Claude's reaction is mixed. A cocktail of suspicion and bitterness, one that seems too petty for his personal comfort.

On one hand, it's comforting to know that Iona is universally kind. On the other, it feels like a dull annoyance: of course she's like this. It's not just me that she's unnaturally overbearing to.

A breath, and he hard resets. Wipes that slate clean. ]

...I see. She is the type.

[ Objective and practical. ]

If this is a reunion, I won't be interrupting you. [ A wave of one hand, and he moves to get up. ] You must have pressing matters to speak to her about. Kindred spirits in art.

[He sees the mind reset itself, a defensive and learned strategy. What kind of life did this man lead to make himself do that all the time? It's painful to look at.]

Don't count yourself out just yet.

[She's close, he can feel it. Their link isn't the same as before, but it lingers as if he's always on the fringe of the warm sunshine Iona emits.]

She's thinking about you too you know.

[The door opens. A chorus of, "Hello!" echoes throughout the cafe as the other customers turn to greet the owner. Iona steps inside, her smile wide and bright as she waves to everyone, eyes scanning the room to gauge how much work needs to be done and then...

She sees Claude and Dominique.

It's difficult to parse her reaction at first, which is unusual because she's usually so easy to read on the surface, but her brow wrinkles in confusion first. Then Iona's head tilts and there's a look of surprise as she does give a smile to the two men, waving at them back.

In a word, the best way to describe Iona's state of mind (as Dominique is reading it) is conflicted.

But she's moving over to them before Claude can get away (she sees him getting up to leave!!) and setting her heavy backpack down.]

Hey! I can't believe I'm being the third wheel today!

[ See, there's one thing that Claude hates, and it forms the foundation for every other thing that he's wary about in life: that one thing is disappointment, and more specifically, disappointment that he lets himself hope for something beyond what he knows he won't get. That mental chastisement comes back in full force when Dom mentions Iona's concern for his wellbeing; Claude's inner demon whispers the same warning that it's been whispering since his mother essentially told him to fuck off when he was still 9.

(it's your own fault for being disappointed, because no one ever owes you anything.)

Claude's not sure if this is jealousy or his own self-fulfilling prophecy of shoving other people away before they can hurt him, but what matters is that he doesn't Like It. That feeling only doubles when he sees Iona, when he has to contend with his own pettiness while she's in the room.

Sometimes he really hates her timing. He tries not to show it. ]

Likewise. How audacious of you to steal my much-coveted title away from me.

[ Smooth and sarcastic, as always. He settles back in his seat, as if nothing is wrong. ]

If you'd be so kind as to return it to me, I'll be out of your hair in seconds.

[Dominique wants to flinch (some parts of Claude feel too similar such as the disappointment experienced from a young age and the damaging distance caused by a parental figure, especially one who could not deal with a child who could see all their imperfections and darkest parts).

There's an intensity to his gaze as he carefully watches Iona and Claude, mostly because he is observing the two of them, but also so he doesn't appear as distracted while he picks up the bits and pieces from the other man's mind. That's what usually flags down a telepath if they do not have an absolute focus on their surroundings.]

"Did you say anything weird to him?"

[Oh. Well.

Iona still had a connection to him and her voice, clear as crystal rings in his mind as she glances at him very briefly before bringing her attention back to Claude. And he replies without moving a muscle.]

"Not a word. He doesn't like me."

"He doesn't like a lot of people... Look I'm just going to assume it got a little awkward and..."

"On the other hand, he really likes you."

[The exchange between their minds occurs within less than several seconds, but the fluster blooms in Iona's expression, both from Claude saying he was about to leave and no thanks to Dom for his assertion. Her eyes widen and she blinks rapidly as if trying to gather her bearings before she replies to Claude.]

Out of my hair-... Oh, don't be like that!

[A third chair is pulled over and she plops herself down with her hands placed on her knees (scrunching up her skirt beneath the table out of nervousness at this situation involving the one man who was previously the most important person in her life and the other...)]

Oren hasn't even served you your usual yet. And uh, I wanted to ask you about how your week went and...

[She weakly gestures at Dominique.]

Aaaaand... I guess Dom made himself known.

[It's not like she was never going to talk about Dominique, it's just that there was no real good way to go about it and knowing the way that he was... Iona gives him another sideways glance, a knowing one that has been developed through prior years of interaction and closeness.]

... I sure did!

[Dominique puts his hands down, clapping them together before he rests one arm on the table and leans forward, smiling widely at the both of them; it's an expression akin to a person looking forward to the rest of their television drama, except in real life.

Look, no one said that Dominique didn't have a little bit of asshole in him.]

So how was your week Aubert? I'm sure Iona was looking forward to it!

"YOU TOTALLY KNOW HOW IT WENT BEFORE ME!!"

[He ignores that. He turns to Oren to call out to him.]

Oren? Get this man his usual and maybe some extra treats? Ah, something with matcha in the cake sounds appropriate for the occasion.

[Ah, green cake for someone who's green with...

Yes. Yes, he is playing around.]

[ Claude watches this all go on, and he does a great job of hiding how most of it bothers him. It's the sort of true neutral he assumes when he's three glasses of white wine into a cocktail party, the sort of polite disdain he wears when he introduces himself to everyone who wouldn't even bother acknowledging his existence if not for the fact that Gus was the one who invited him over.

He misinterprets Iona's fidgeting for some residual embarrassment that stems from residual affection for an old friend. She's entitled to it, of course, so his reaction is irrational.

He hates it. He never used to be so personally affected by who was cavorting around with who. ]

I feel outnumbered.

[ A thin smile, and he raises a brow. Perfectly cultured, with his back straight and his gift still in his pocket.

He tries to make pointed eye contact with Oren, to no avail. ]

Come now, my week can't be as interesting as the empty space of time you two spent away from one another. Surely you won't be rude and keep me from rubbernecking.

[Yeah, there's no depending on Oren, you're on your own Claude. The tall golem stiffly and silently serves everyone at the odd table without so much a blink or a word of acknowledgment.

Iona's uncharacteristically taking her given cup of lavender chamomile tea (it's deliberate, Oren is getting her to relax in his own way) and hiding behind to the rim to avoid a response while Dom is more than happy enough to answer in her place.]

Well, there's not that much to say. We're friends now and I haven't paid a visit in a long while.

I miss meeting interesting characters that pass through here. And you, believe it or not... [Dom grins into his own mug, taking another sip before continuing.]

... Are interesting. Even if you do try to hide it.

"You're pushing it..."

"I know, I know."

I bet Jackie's been bothering you to make regular visits too, right?

[Iona rolls her eyes and lightly shoves him in the shoulder with one hand and he just chuckles.]

OPEN RP POST SIX

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