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thedispatch2022-09-21 11:09 pm
theripper) wrote in thedispatch2022-09-21 11:09 pm
Do you?
Ah, poor William. With so many interruptions, he probably hasn’t been able to focus on his work at all today. Every hour or so, a pigeon has found its way to him with something new to deliver.
By now, courier pigeons are a terribly antiquated form of communication, save for the rare circumstance. As such, it might’ve struck the reaper as odd, but their unnamed sender would have become increasingly obvious— if not immediately. After all, the very first arrival wasn’t a message at all, but instead, a single red camellia.
On this date, for the past two-hundred and fifty years, Grell has left gifted him the very same flower. A single stem, left atop his desk, as a reminder; “you’re the flame in my heart, the love of my life.” For all the attention she showers him with, at any given opportunity, it is a simple, albeit heartfelt gesture.
The deliveries to follow weren’t nearly as simple, however. There was a sketch made, of the two of them, upon their graduation - William standing, a hand resting on the back of a chair, on which Grell was seated. Her body is titled toward his, legs relaxed and crossed at the ankles. Her body language certainly expressed her interest in William, and an unusual sense of ease about him. After, a note That he had left her, seemingly addressing a work issue, but also, an uncommon familiarity in its language— perhaps, even friendly. Early photographs of them both, at social events (a.k.a. “optional” work parties) - stolen snapshots of Grell kissing his cheek, and the like - intermittently mixed into an assortment of trinkets, ticket stubs, letters - all marking important turns in their tumultuous friendship over the years.
And then, this:
“December 16, 1799
— I had sensed myself falling for you, but
on this day, you swept my feet out from
under me entirely.
Unapologetically.
And now?
I’ve come to need you, as one might need
air to breathe. My admiration for you fills
my chest, and fans the flame of my heart.
It swells— threatens to consume me—
though I welcome the warmth.
But a small comfort, when you are not near.
You consider yourself to be more like ice,
I know— and frigid, you surely can be—
though, I know that you are so much more.
If you are ice, and I, the inferno
Perhaps you will ease beneath my touch,
and flow freely, at last -
just as you might quiet the blaze that I
leave in my wake.
Or are you the very ground that tethers
me to this earth?
Surely, you are my world.
My everything.
My dearest William♥️”
The following hour, he receive a much more simple note— a request to meet Grell atop the roof where they completed their trial.
Should he comply, he will be met with a beautiful sight; dozens of lit candles placed amongst what appears to be hundreds of blossomed red camellias, warm against the backdrop of twilight. As for Grell, she wears a slightly more subdued, deeper shade of red suit, though her lipstick, neck bow, and heels rival the vividness of the flowers strewn about them. Her hair has been trimmed the shortest it’s been since the 1920’s - and her makeup, of course, is immaculate! Clearly, she’s put quite a bit of effort into this evening, from all angles.
And, well, if he decides not to show… she’ll wait there for him all night!
By now, courier pigeons are a terribly antiquated form of communication, save for the rare circumstance. As such, it might’ve struck the reaper as odd, but their unnamed sender would have become increasingly obvious— if not immediately. After all, the very first arrival wasn’t a message at all, but instead, a single red camellia.
On this date, for the past two-hundred and fifty years, Grell has left gifted him the very same flower. A single stem, left atop his desk, as a reminder; “you’re the flame in my heart, the love of my life.” For all the attention she showers him with, at any given opportunity, it is a simple, albeit heartfelt gesture.
The deliveries to follow weren’t nearly as simple, however. There was a sketch made, of the two of them, upon their graduation - William standing, a hand resting on the back of a chair, on which Grell was seated. Her body is titled toward his, legs relaxed and crossed at the ankles. Her body language certainly expressed her interest in William, and an unusual sense of ease about him. After, a note That he had left her, seemingly addressing a work issue, but also, an uncommon familiarity in its language— perhaps, even friendly. Early photographs of them both, at social events (a.k.a. “optional” work parties) - stolen snapshots of Grell kissing his cheek, and the like - intermittently mixed into an assortment of trinkets, ticket stubs, letters - all marking important turns in their tumultuous friendship over the years.
And then, this:
“December 16, 1799
— I had sensed myself falling for you, but
on this day, you swept my feet out from
under me entirely.
Unapologetically.
And now?
I’ve come to need you, as one might need
air to breathe. My admiration for you fills
my chest, and fans the flame of my heart.
It swells— threatens to consume me—
though I welcome the warmth.
But a small comfort, when you are not near.
You consider yourself to be more like ice,
I know— and frigid, you surely can be—
though, I know that you are so much more.
If you are ice, and I, the inferno
Perhaps you will ease beneath my touch,
and flow freely, at last -
just as you might quiet the blaze that I
leave in my wake.
Or are you the very ground that tethers
me to this earth?
Surely, you are my world.
My everything.
My dearest William♥️”
The following hour, he receive a much more simple note— a request to meet Grell atop the roof where they completed their trial.
Should he comply, he will be met with a beautiful sight; dozens of lit candles placed amongst what appears to be hundreds of blossomed red camellias, warm against the backdrop of twilight. As for Grell, she wears a slightly more subdued, deeper shade of red suit, though her lipstick, neck bow, and heels rival the vividness of the flowers strewn about them. Her hair has been trimmed the shortest it’s been since the 1920’s - and her makeup, of course, is immaculate! Clearly, she’s put quite a bit of effort into this evening, from all angles.
And, well, if he decides not to show… she’ll wait there for him all night!
no subject
In the beginning it was different. There were years of confusion from him, not at all understanding the meaning behind the simple gift. Followed by decades of reprimands over interrupting the flow of his work with the delivery. Then a near century of silence on the matter, where it could be assumed he tossed the flower into the bin beside his desk and continued his workday without a second thought on it.
In truth, each year that red camellia bud had been tucked away in his personal hammerspace. And once he'd been able to retire for the evening, it'd been retrieved and placed in a bud vase and kept atop the side table in his study until it eventually wilted. And as Grell's gift remains the same for yet another year, once more William plucks the flower from his desk and tucks it away.
Except this year, things aren't as simple as they first appear. A second bird arrives, bringing with it a rather peculiar drawing. As before, confusion sets in first, but with Grell off for the day, William gets no answer on why he's received the piece. After a few hours, that bout of frustration returns, and again, with Grell absent, there's no one to reprimand for the trinkets that litter his desk. He's forced to shut the window. When a few more hours pass, the insistent tapping of tiny beaks against the glass has him angrily throwing open the window. And while many birds enter with gifts to deliver, two in particular seem very adamant that theirs are taken first.
The poem is read carefully - perhaps even twice! - before it joins the camellia in his pocket dimension. The invitation gets set aside on the desk, near his memo pad. It takes him the remainder of the day to decide if he'll make good on her request.
While he can't recall the exact rooftop they'd been on that day, the warm glow of the candles gives him the answer. A hop from one rooftop to the next and finally he appears before her. The set scene is glanced over with a perplexed frown. ]
What's all this then?
[ Considering the barrage of interruptions she's caused him this day, he sounds less perturbed and more curious. If she's gone through all this trouble, there must be a reasoning behind it. ]
no subject
And so, upon hearing his voice, she visibly perks, posture upright and face alight. ]
—Will!♥️ [ Climbing to her feet, she brushes off her bottom. ] I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t show.
[ As he surveys the scene, the redheaded reaper seems to read his features carefully. ] It’s been quite a while that we’ve known one another, now, hasn’t it? Surely, that’s worth celebrating… And so,this is part of my gift to you.
[ Is Grell— fidgeting? Why, yes, she is! Straightening her cuffs, smoothing a bit of hair behind her ear… but, what could possibly make this maniac nervous? ]
no subject
[ He raises an eyebrow at her nervous actions. It's something he's not sure he's witness from her before. ]
Out with it, then. It's obvious you have something else on your mind.
no subject
Gently, she clears her throat, reaching into her pocket to retrieve something. It appears to be a small, black, leather-bound box. ]
Right then… We never knew one another in this world, but I think that if we had, things may have turned out differently for us. [ A brief sigh, as she shakes off her nerves and stands a bit taller! ] Though, we didn’t - and I would go through it all again, if it meant meeting you once more.
Except, I wouldn’t wait nearly so long, before asking you this—
[ Bending the knee, she presents to him the contents of said box - a ring.
Knowing Grell, it’s genuine white gold and black diamonds - save for one, teensy red stone, hidden amongst the rest.
Now, she hasn’t forced her aesthetic upon him, and rather, found a ring to suit his tastes… AND she hasn’t made a public spectacle out of this proposal, as she surely would prefer? Oh dear. She must be quite serious. ]
William Thaeton Spears, will you marry me?
no subject
...what?
[ It's said with complete and honest disbelief. Why in Death's name would she ask him such a thing? He can't make any sense of it!
Shaking his head in irritation, he grips at the back of her suit jacket, forcibly hoisting her to her feet. ]
Get up. Are you completely daft?
no subject
Wha—! That’s what you have to say on the matter?! [ A huffy frown, at that! ]
no subject
Yes, because I can't, for the Death of me, understand what logic you have in proposing to me. We aren't in any sort of romantic relationship. Just what are you expecting to come of it?
no subject
Aren’t we, though? [ Stated very confidently, as she gingerly cups the back of her head. ] We haven’t shared a home, or a bed, but marriages have been founded on less! No, we have been intimately involved for some time now, whilst depriving ourselves of all the parts that makes a union more— precious.
[ Having become so impassioned in her words, she holds the box wrapped in her hand, with a shake of the fist!!
Until that very last word. Her voice becomes quieter. Softer. ]
no subject
If you are ice, and I, the inferno
Perhaps you will ease beneath my touch,
and flow freely, at last -
just as you might quiet the blaze that I
leave in my wake.
[ His eyes flick back up to her. ]
Do you truly feel we may do so for one another?
no subject
Except, he retrieves her note, and begins reciting it— and it may have been rather funny, except he’s actually paid her some consideration in doing so! Her cheeks are flushed with happiness, a hopeful smile plucking at the corners of her mouth! ]
I do, yes. As many have suspected before me, I very well may have led myself down a path of destruction without you. You’ve proven to be much more reliable and self-sufficient - but behind those sturdy walls that you’ve built, you’re lonely, Will - and I’d like to think that I stir something within you. You’ve been quite resistant to my efforts at tearing down those blockades, but I’m content to keep doing so - brick by brick, if I must.
no subject
Do I come across as lonely?
[ He'd tried to hide it from anyone, everyone. Emotions had no place in their job. But even on their days off, William saw no benefit in allowing himself to open up. What benefit would it afford him? He was too stubborn to think that he could have, or even deserve happiness again.
But she'd seen through it somehow. And his honest question on it leaves him with no room to deny it. ]
no subject
As I’ve said, I know you. And I recognize it, because I feel it deeply, myself. Loneliness - and fear. We both attempt to conceal it in a problematic fashion, albeit on opposite ends of the spectrum. [ She appears to be a bit sheepish in admitting so, smile lopsided and awkward - but if she still has his hand, she’ll give it a squeeze of comfort. ]
no subject
[ Dry humor or completely honest observation? You decide. He lets Grell hold his hand, though his remains unmoving as she squeezes it. ]
Why do you feel we need marriage to solidify that connection between us? Do you simply desire the title that goes with it?
no subject
No. It isn’t the title.
[ Pausing, she released his hand in favor of opening the box once more, and removes the ring to show him. ]
We’ve been committed without one for a quarter millennia . You denied me, but no more than you denied yourself everything good in this life. You’ve always been there, I know; just as I’ve jumped at any opportunity to be beside you! I just— [ A sigh! ] Damn it, I’m tired of waiting, and I’m putting my heel down!
[ Raising the ring, so that he may see it, tiny red gem and all, she looks into his eyes imploringly. ]
Please, say yes!
no subject
You just had to go and include red in there somehow, didn't you? Honestly, have you no self control at all?
[ It almost seems as if he'll toss the piece behind him and teleport off, but no. Instead, he's sliding the ring onto his finger, himself! ]
I expect you'll want a ring now, too?
no subject
A small reminder, should you ever miss me.
[ As if he ever co— WAIT, did he just—!
Planting a hand on his shoulder, her hand hovers over her mouth as though she might just faint!
Unless he fends her off - though, frankly, it may be impossible- she will then throw herself over his shoulders, and wrap him tight in an embrace! ]
Of course I do, you silly man!!
no subject
Ruby or garnet, then?
no subject
Ruby, darling. [ She affectionately pets along the collar of his blazer. ] Red diamond was an option on the table, but I knew you would scold me for it.
no subject
[ And perhaps as a bit of a tease?? he'll refrain from giving her the scolding, knowing quite well that'd she'd enjoy it just as much. ]
Ruby it is, then. Would you prefer a more modern design, as mine is, or something more of our era?
[ He just doesn't want complaints when it's not the perfect ring. ]