thedispatch | (no subject)

[ Her lips part to question him about that, too-- but she loses her voice once the reel begins to play. Grell is entirely enamoured with the image of her mother. Even her father. Their faces had just nearly faded away in her memory. That brief, seemingly happy time together as a family ends within moments, however; she glances away as the records speeds through her childhood. Long stretches of loneliness broken apart by lessons meant to educate or toughen her, peppered with physical scoldings from her father.

Things begin to take on more life, once she seemingly branched out on her own. Having a flat of her own gave her the space to read whatever materials she pleased freely. She moved closer to a theatre, to see the literature of Shakespeare come alive, and took to reciting aloud at home. During one of her many visits to the shows, she was invited to one of their after parties - a mere mistake, as her handsome face was recognised, though uncertain as to where from, and supposed to be someone of some standing. There were people like here there; unusual. Some of the men were painted, others even in dresses. Finally, she began to feel comfortable somewhere - and the next even, she tried a hand at painting her own face, late at night, in her sleeping gown.

That weekend, she managed to smile her way into another post-celebration. It became clearer that these festivities were not merely for the show, and almost exclusively for the men. They were very open about their love, and it felt very scandalous, but freeing, and she was among the actors she so admired... Her visits became more regular, though she often remained too shy beyond keeping to herself. One seemingly random week night, though, the crowd was small, and the performer that she admired most took interest in her, for she was seemingly disinterested in speaking with him (though, in truth, she was just far more content admiring him over her book, from the corner).

Bored as he was, he charmed her. Talked her up, and curiously continued to pick at her throughout the week. Grell had never had the attention of another man before. She was beginning to think that she was in love. By Saturday, he had coerced her into a private room and bedded her.

When asked to return the following night, she had thought it to be another romantic randevu; however, she arrived to find another young man sweet on him. And several more. She had been too oblivious to the darker things that took place at the Molly House, and the reality hit her hard. Asking to excuse herself, she was teased harshly, told she should be honoured to be involved in such a thing-- but perhaps it was best that a virgin go home. Except, she'd just been broken in, said her beau. Heartbroken and easily dominated, she was coerced into spending the night with five strangers. She went home with little effort to right herself, and it caught the attention of two drunk men. She was badly beaten.

Once she'd healed, she found herself there, on those cliffs.... and Grell could swear that she knows what comes next. ]

I don't understand why this is important...

[ Grell murmurs, oddly flat, as she stares at the reflection in the table's surface. ]

[ William does her the courtesy of ignoring the earlier portion of her life as it flicks by. He just recalled his own memories of how she confessed it to him, after all. So he focuses more on finding the correct point to slow the film on. It's obvious she never wanted to view her record again, but that's really why it's so important that he share his new found knowledge with her.

As she's no longer paying the sceen any mind, William reaches out to force her head up. ]

That is why you need to listen to me and watch.

[ Although the redhead doesn't resist him, she finds her eyes darting from the screen and over to the playing reel-- and the look that flashes across them is rather dangerous. She's contemplating destroying the damned machine.

But then, William is right, after all; something unfamiliar plays.

Grell doesn't recall anyone else being there - no less William. ]

What-- [ Her voice cracks, becomes breathless. What unfolds has her positively stunned, all the way through. The silence that follows is heavy, her eyes wide with disbelief. She simply. Can't. Process it. ]

[ The record reaches its end and William flicks the machine off. The lights come on and for a few minutes he lingers there next to her, silent. He wasn't sure what her reaction would be but it's apparent she needs time to process. ]

Apparently, reapers who knew one another in their mortal lives have their records adjusted, so to speak. An attempt to keep us focused on the job. I wasnt aware of this until I accidentally stumble upon it while watching back my own record this morning

[ Hearing him speak, her brows twinge into a furrow. She draws a breath, but her voice is lethal. ]

Focused... on the job...

[ There are so many emotions festering within her that she's always pushed down, and they're all reacting and bubbling over like one of Othello's stupid experiments. (And the only ones that she ever payed attention to were those involving explosions, so she'd know!)

As she's always expressed best, wrath takes the forefront; lifting her clenched hands, she plummets them into the table, causing it to splinter. ]

They've kept this from us for one hundred years!!

[ At least she has enough foresight to shove the table away before it buckles over their knees. The newfound space also gives her the range to pace. ]

One hundred years, in which we looked one another in the eye nearly every bloody day but suffered our nights in crippling loneliness! Fuck their jobs, those hypocritical bloody sods!

Edited 2020-04-16 09:40 (UTC)

[ Quite used to every possible emotion Grell possesses, her outburst doesn't phase him. He stands there, adjusting his glasses while he waits for the brunt of it to be through. ]

I am off for the day, and I have zero faith that you'll be productive in any way aside from reeking havoc through the entire facility. You'll be clocking off and returning to my flat with me. We have much that needs to be discussed.

[ He removes the reel from the machine, not bothering to rewind it before returning it to its tin. With it tucked under his arm, he looks to where Grell is still pacing the floor. ]

Let's go. Now.

[ Best to get her away from others before it's too late. ]

[ It isn't until he commands her to move that it really sinks in - that she's actually going to accompany William to his apartment, so that they can discuss their very intimate history together. Everything she'd thought to be mere fancy, there was actually something there. Or, there had been, once.

With a heavy sigh, she attempts to gather herself to do just that. Still, she shoves open the exit door quite aggressively - which is hopefully enough of a cue for the clerk to stay out of their way! ]

[ A quick stop by the office to grab his coat and briefcase, and William's ready to go. He stands by the time clock waiting for Grell to get whatever she needs and clock out. Idly he wonders if he has enough liquor at home. He's sure he'll want a drink at some point this evening. All the memories flooding back has already given him quite the headache. And it wasn't helped watching it a second time from Grell's perspective. ]

Hurry up.

[ Thankfully, it doesn't take long for Grell to follow suit. The office was quick to pick up on her foul mood and stay off her radar, and she's apparently only deemed the remainder of her coffee worth retrieving from her desk.

Seeing her grumpily sipping from her mug may be difficult to take too seriously. ]

Hmn. I'm ready.

[ Without prompting, she slips her arm about his, lightly grasping onto his sleeve. Presumably, so that he could teleport them to his place. ]

[ With a brief glance to where their arms loop together he brings them to his doorstep, unlocking it and allowing her inside. There's a heavy sigh as he moves past her, heading to his room to get himself into some more comfortable clothing. ]

Make yourself comfortable, I suppose. I will be out in a few minutes.

[ Grell's mood lightens substantially, once they're inside. Curiosity takes over as she drinks in the details of his apartment living area. One could consider it a bit boring, actually, but she might describe it as minimalist and overly tidy. Wandering in, she closing her eyes with a deep breath. ]

It smells like you.

[ She mutters wondrously, thinking aloud. Watching him off, she tries a bit too obviously to sneak a peek at his room before he's off closing the door.

By the time he's returned, she's left her heels by the door and removed her coat to drape along the back of an armchair. Nestled into said chair, she has her socked feet tucked up underneath her, mug in her lap. She's apparently found his favourite chair, as it's the most broken in out of the lot, and thusly, most comfortable! ]

[ William's dressed down a substantial amount from his work attire, but somehow still manages to look as professional and clean as always. Apparently he stopped by the kitchen as, he too, has a mug with him. Tea, for now. He frowns at his favourite chair being snatched up, but he did give her free will to sit where she'd like, so he doesn't make her move. Instead he fusses with the cushions on the couch until he's fairly satisfied.

He takes a long sip from his mug after blowing the steam from it. ]

Honestly, I'm not even certain where we should begin.

[ The outfit earns a thorough look; apparently, she likes it, judging by the tick of her brows and lack of criticism! She also watches him in his natural habitat with some amusement. ]

It's-- complicated, surely.

[ A finger idly taps the side of her cup, lips shifting with the turn of her mood. ]

Things could have been so different for us here.

I suppose so.

[ He frowns down into his mug, replaying some of the scenes in his mind. ]

Our personalities are both so drastically different, now. I felt as though I was watching a performance, where the characters just happened to share our names.

[ A scoff of a hum, at that. ]

Of course we're different. Until now, we'd thought that we died under entirely different circumstances. We couldn't bear to live like that once, let alone endure an eternity like it...

[ He gives Grell a look that says he's not buying that argument. ]

I'd said you needed to gain some self confidence, but this transformation is far beyond extreme.

[ He pauses, though. Those last two days run through his mind. ]

Perhaps it was beginning to show itself, though.

[ Though Grell gives him a look at the first comment, her features ease as she begins to give thought to his words. ]

... You must know by now, it's all been learnt. [ With a dramatic, heavy sigh, she allows her head to fall back into the cushioning. ]

Everything that came to pass - as I knew it, anyway - could have been avoided, if I weren't so weak. I was pathetic. [ For just a moment, she is silent. ] I knew that if I was going to-- survive, I had to become everything that I wasn't.

Whatever your demeanour, the people of our time would have looked upon you just the same. And purged you at the first chance.

[ He realises that, even now, he has no true issue with Grell's sexuality or gender identity. The annoyance has always been over her lack of respect for his personal space. ]

Honestly, I believe they are at fault more than you ever could have been.

[ Hearing such a thing from William makes the memories begin to truly seep back. Vague snippets of past conversations, and the warmth of love and safety she carried in his presence. It's a bit overwhelming; she might be gawking a bit.

Forcing herself to look away, she quietly hums in thought, as though merely considering his words, although not entirely convinced. ]

Whatever the case, those days are far gone.

[ William gives a contemplative hum of his own, sipping at his tea for a few quiet minutes. ]

I will say, this explains those shark teeth of yours.

[ While it could be interpreted as a joke, it's far more likely that William's genuinely been wondering about that feature of hers since they met as reapers. ]

[ Licking over her teeth, she snickers. ]

Mn, yes. A gift I'd been rather pleased with, I must say.

[ Peering back his way, an awkward sort of smirk plucks at a corner of her lips. ]

For a long time, I'd wondered if we'd ever get to know one another, truly... Look as us, now. [ A hum of wonder! ] --How are you feeling?

Edited 2020-04-17 07:30 (UTC)

[ He takes a moment to consider, the crease in his brow slowly becoming more prominent. ]

Honestly, I'm not certain. I should think my answer would be that I no longer feel the same way towards you. But then, a lot of questions I've had over the decades are starting to show their answers.

[ Ah. So, he can't love her as he did then, she takes it. Though she can feel her heart sink, and lips twitch indignantly, she bites her tongue. Clearly, she's done enough damage over the years.

With a sniff, she pauses to finish off her coffee. ]

What sort of questions?

Why I've kept you around, despite how much trouble you cause me. I could be rid of you with the simple submission of transfer paperwork. I'd convinced myself that it was because you're ideal in the field, when you're behaving.

[ His features relax slightly and he looks up from his mug, meeting her eyes. ]

Now I can't help but feel it's because I can't bring myself to abandon you. The promise I made to you must have lingered in my mind, despite forgetting it was ever given.

[ Is that a pang of guilt she feels? Truly, this day has brought about all sorts of unexpected things!

Gaze dropping, she covers by leaning over to set her empty cup atop the coffee table. ]

Quite the grief, that's caused you.

[ The rest of it-- well, there's been some unspoken understanding of that for some time. Many reaper had come and gone through transfers, so there was no doubt that it could be done. She just didn't know precisely why, apart from some sort of connection between them. ]