route_1065 | You can't dance and stay uptight

Entry tags:

You can't dance and stay uptight

Who: Dale Cooper (

tapestodiane) and Carmen Sandiego (

doitrockapella)
Where: Mahogany Town and Route 44
When: The night of August 31, into September 1
Summary: Amid the Clefairy swarm, a couple of dorks sneak out to look at the moon, eat takeout, and make Attempt #6001 at finding out why Dale Cooper is afraid of birds.
Rating: PG
Log:

[The best part about Agent Cooper's assigned room in the Mahogany Inn, as far as Carmen Sandiego is concerned, is not the simple but pleasant furnishings, the bathroom's water pressure, or the relative proximity to the various amenities the little hostelry in their current town of choice has to offer — it's the fact that there's a rather nice, sturdy tree with low wide branches almost directly outside his bedroom window.

One that she happens to be sitting in, at the moment.

(Granted, she doesn't actually need the help of the tree, of course; if she were really determined to get in his window, there are any number of creative ways she might go about it. The tree just happens to make things convenient, both in terms of support and providing cover, and if it's already there just waiting to accommodate her, well, she might as well put it to good use.)

It's certainly not the first time she's ever spent time lingering in the branches of a tree, and it probably won't be the last, but there is a certain method to her apparent madness tonight. It's the night going into September 1st; in her opinion, that means it's also a fine choice of night for a late-night rendezvous, for a wide variety of reasons. It's a blue moon out, for one thing, and if the sudden appearance of Clefairy bouncing around is any indication, she's not the only one with the thought of dancing in the moonlight on her mind. For another thing, September 1st is four months from May 1st, one-third of a year from the day she first met Special Agent Dale Cooper in person at the Beltane festival in Goldenrod City.

For a third thing, it's her half-birthday. Not that she usually goes out of her way to observe that particular half-holiday, but it's something to think about, nonetheless.

But regardless of which reason she's relying on, the fact remains that she's still sitting rather contentedly on one of the low-hanging branches of the tree, feet (encased in sensible black boots) dangling over the side as she double-checks her count of the inn windows to ensure she's got the right one. It's a little strange to be without her usual red coat and hat tonight; she hasn't worn her charcoal turtleneck and black slacks since Beltane, and there's an odd feeling of exposure that comes with having her hair tied off in a neat side ponytail and the distinct absence of her hat's brim framing her vision. But it's the sort of night that seems to warrant a change of pace, and so for the moment, she's chosen to indulge it.

Her mental count finished and her accuracy confirmed, she gazes thoughtfully at the warm glow of yellow light from behind the closed curtains before reaching for her Gear to send off a message.]

Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.

[While she waits for her response — be it electronic or in person — she tips her head back to search for stray beams of moonlight that have managed to filter their way down through the crisscrossing canopy of the tree's branches, and thinks of how close she once came to making it into space, herself.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

_{[He smiles a little when he hears the bell. Much like Carmen had probably meant when she planted that sound in his 'gear, it makes him think of her along with the memory of San Francisco. Especially as no one else ever really takes to send him text messages this late, and he already expects it to be from her. He's not disappointed when he reads the words on the screen.]

[It's certainly not a long trip from the desk to the window and his smile grows when he pulls the curtain away and spots her outside. It's a normal smile, now; warmer than the fangs would have let it before the points finally disappeared completely a day or two prior. It's a relief to have seen all of the mutations slowly fade away, the plates on his face now more of a pattern than protrusions, the spikes on his back certainly still there but no longer tearing holes into his T-shirts.]

[There's really no doubt about opening the window, by the way, and he does so without pause, hands on the window sill as he leans against it and looks up at her.]}

Carmen, _{[and he says it with fond humor, expression bright and curious,]} always a pleasure.

[He's looking better these days, and that's a relief. There's still no telling what caused the outbreak or how its victims fell prey to it (and perhaps the most nagging question of all — why so many people around her succumbed to it when she remained perfectly fine in their midst), and so there was really no way of anticipating how long it would take the changes to fade, if they ever did at all. But she's been paying attention, and everyone she's seen seems to be recovering with no lasting damage done. That's something to be thankful for, too.

She hooks her gloved hands around the branch of the tree at her sides, reinforcing her balance as she leans forward slightly to greet him. It's a nicer smile without the fangs, she muses, though she'd admittedly never found the elongated incisors as off-putting as some might have. But the difference is that he's happier, and that's what really shows through.]

Hello, detective. Enjoying the alien invasion?

[As if on cue, a few Clefairy float past a little way down the street, chattering amongst themselves just barely loud enough to overhear.]

_{[He turns his head to look at them as they go, still looking pretty pleased with things. There are things that have bothered him lately, absolutely; Hiccup and Heather for example. But then there's also Albert, who while sometimes frustrating is someone Cooper counts on and considers his friend, the mutations fading away, the relative quiet of Johto in general ... and then, tonight, the full moon, a clear sky and a peaceful invasion.]

[And Carmen, of course. He can't seem to stop being quite enamored with her.]}

I am. _{[Testing the invitation, however obvious.]} How's the view?

[While he turns to look, she takes advantage of the opportunity to examine a little more closely the parts of his face that this new angle affords her. The plates really are fading, and the Lichtenberg lines don't seem quite as red and bold as they once did, though the latter might just be a trick of the light — and of her hopes.

It's odd not seeing the brim of her hat in her peripheral vision, she muses again as she tips her head a little to the side, never taking her eyes off him and waiting until he turns back to see her looking before she finally replies.]

Rather scenic, from where I'm sitting.

[Really, he walked right into that one, didn't he?]

_{[He looks away for a second as he accepts the compliment - it's like a subtle version of ducking his head. He looks back to her very soon though, lets his smile soften into a smaller but warmer one.]}

I could say the same. _{[Slight beat,]} You look beautiful.

_{[And he responds like the dork he is ... but he means it, and wants to point it out because she also looks different. There's something muted about it that he likes. Carmen is red and bold and he likes that, too, but like this it's more personal somehow, like he's allowed to see past the vibrant first layer.]

[And then there's also just the fact that the dark colours and side ponytail are really attractive on her.]

[(Perhaps ironically, she looks even more like a thief like this. Dark and perched outside a window, looking in.)]}

[Dorky though it may be, that directness is something she's always tended to appreciate about him; it keeps things simple and straightforward and easy to read, and while she's never averse to the idea of solving a good puzzle, occasionally it's nice to have things just fall neatly into place for her, too. Particularly when it pertains to a subject that, admittedly, she's still not an expert at yet.

(It's strange, though, not to have the high collar of her coat on either side of her face to sink back into, almost imperceptibly, at the praise. The option should at least be there, she thinks, and it's not, and that's...odd.)

Still, she manages to keep her reaction just barely on the side of preening versus pleased, and her smile widens as a result.]

I'm flattered.

[No point in denying it, really. He's much too good at reading her for that.]

I was thinking of outwalking the furthest city light tonight. You should come and join me.

_{[He doesn't even reflect on it that much. It's a request that he has no objection to, because he likes spending time with her and because he doesn't feel like sleeping right now, anyway.]}

Let me get my jacket.

_{[And shoes, and at least one pokéball, because it's second nature to bring them along by now, even if the pokémon inside never do get brought out. Behind him, most of his team are snoozing away.]}

I'll meet you down front?

[Vaguely amused, she takes a minute to feign disappointment.]

And to think, I was hoping you'd follow me out the window. Maybe next time.

[But the words are light in contrast, and leave no doubt that she's teasing, so after an obligatory pause for that to sink in, she grins at him and tips her head in a half-nod of affirmation.]

Don't let Agent Rosenfield catch you on the way out. As the idiom goes, "two's company — and he's too loud."

[Instinctively, she raises her gloved fingers toward her face where her hat brim would normally be, apparently moving to tip it on reflex, but then catches herself and touches them to her temple in a light salute instead.

And as he leaves the window, she'll drop effortlessly back down from her perch, making her way around to the front door as confidently as if she were in full red splendor.]

_{[He doesn't quite laugh, and thinks that he'll keep that in mind for later. Out the window, hm ... well, why not?]

[As far as the Albert comment goes, he only grins and responds with a joking "Don't worry", because he hadn't meant to alert anyone regardless. .. and he does see her point, as much as he wished the two of them would get along. Ah well.]

[He puts on his own boots, a windbreaker, and after a second decides on bringing Emily's pokéball; then after closing the window and locking the hotel room door, goes down the stairs to the front door of the building.]

[Even without the red, she's easy to spot. He wastes no time walking up to her, hovering just inside the edge of her personal space.]}

Which way, detective?

[She's got a plastic bag in one gloved hand by the time he arrives; upon reaching the bottom of the tree, she'd retrieved the parcel from where she'd stashed it in the bushes prior to climbing up the tree to his window. For the observant, like Coop, there's a glimpse of a colorful logo printed on the side of the wrinkling plastic — the brand of a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant she'd discovered on one of her many adventures in scouring the town.

(Naturally, the residents of Johto have never heard of Peking duck, but it turns out the local cuisine has come up with a pretty fair approximation.)

But thoughts of food go right out the window when he makes himself known, and more importantly when he extends the greeting he does. It's been a long time since he's called her "detective" — not since the night in Olivine when he'd asked her if it was something she wanted him to continue.

She'd left the choice up to him that night. It's nice to see he's decided to continue it, after all.]

I was thinking of heading east. The Clefairy certainly are.

[He's looking much better, she muses, now that he's close enough for her to see the fading changes up close and personally. He's going to be fine.]

I don't mind the lights of the town, but I think there'll be a clearer view of the moon from Route 44.

_{[He didn't realize at first that he'd said it, but all things considered? It's about time. He'd kept from calling her that mostly because that with the revelation that she wasn't, at least not anymore, it had seemed ... not fake, far from it. Not even a lie. Just a little wrong while he still turned it over in his head.]

[He's about done with turning over, for now and a while ahead. And with her telling him that she feels at a crossroads again - and just knowing and realizing on his part, really, that she's still HER - it seems clear that just because the title might not be technically right anymore, it doesn't make it less true for her.]}

Following their tracks, then.

_{[Just musing. And, out of curiosity,]}

Have you thought about catching one?

[She takes that as her cue to start walking, nudging lightly against his arm before returning to a comfortable — by their mutual standard, which by an average person's definition would probably more aptly be termed close — distance from his side.]

My own alien? I can't deny I'd considered it.

[Again, as if brought on by her words, another flurry of them go past, bouncing along on their way — and Carmen slows her pace just a bit, giving them a chance to get ahead before resuming her original walking speed.]

But it doesn't seem very sporting to single one out and keep it from its goal, whatever that may be, purely for my own satisfaction. They've obviously got a destination in mind; who am I to hinder them?

_{[He walks with her, and much like her he's very content to stay close by, leaning just slightly towards her as they go. He did spot the plastic bag she's carrying and even if he hadn't, there's still the smell of food, subtle in the air. It seems like it'll be a long night. But a very nice one.]}

I don't know. A lot of people say the journey is more important than the destination.

_{[Not arguing, and she'll know - just thinking, with a hint of a smile her way.]}

[It's a good night for a walk, and one made less solitary with the presence of a companion at her elbow. She's not one to fear the cover of darkness, just as she's not one to fear just about anything else, but it's an undeniably different experience to move through it with someone by her side instead of venturing through the shadowed streets alone. Without him, she'd be immersed in all the assorted sensations of the night, acutely aware of each of them in turn — the sound of branches rustling and the swarms of the Clefairy as they go by, the cool breath of the breeze against her face and in her hair. With him here, she's still noticing all those things, but they seem mildly dampened in the face of his ambient warmth, his footsteps beating their own rhythm alongside hers, his general presence on the periphery of her vision.

It's a different sort of walk than the one she's used to, but that doesn't make it unpleasant by any means, and her pace is deliberate but unhurried as she guides the way toward the outskirts of town.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Lao Zi, always poignant.

To think it's been almost six months now, since that first day.]

Maybe I've got a journey of my own in mind tonight.

[She lets her fingers lightly brush his, as if in reassurance that it's not another one like her recent race to Mt. Mortar she's referring to.]

_{[He weaves his fingertips briefly with hers in response to the contact. Briefly because that's always how they start out - a nudge here, a tap there, in that back and forth they've never stopped playing.]}

Any destination?

I've thought of one. But it won't be up to me, whether I get there.

[And that is, she thinks, sufficiently cryptic enough to suffice as a clue to her plans for the evening, without giving them away outright.]

You know the story of the rabbit in the moon, don't you?

_{[Cryptic or not, it's an answer that satisfies him. He hadn't expected it, exactly, because expectations don't mesh all that well with Carmen, but it still stays true to her.]

[A nod before he speaks. He looks at the moon too, even though it's not the moon in question - the rabbit, if even there, is certainly harder to pick out.]}

The rabbit sacrifices himself for a stranger and his image is drawn onto the moon as a reward.

_{[In other words, yes. It's a story he likes, even if he hasn't been in touch with it for a long time now.]}

Edited 2012-09-04 03:18 (UTC)

He asks his friends to give him over to the stranger, you know.

[She tips her head back to look skyward as well, thinking of a night once spent in a tea garden with Suhara, when he'd first told this story to her in his kind, familiar voice.]

Monkey and Fox both bring their gifts to help feed the stranger, and when Rabbit realizes that the grass he eats won't suffice, he asks them both to help him collect firewood. Once it's ablaze, he tells them how he plans to jump into the fire, and asks that, when he's cooked, they take him and give him over to the man. After he stops Rabbit from jumping into the fire, and after he's thanked Monkey and Fox for their offerings, the stranger tells him, "Rabbit, your generosity is without compare — but you must learn never to harm yourself."

[She leans a little, nudging against him.]

It's not just a reward that carries Rabbit up to the moon. He's up there for safekeeping, too.

_{[It doesn't really matter much that he already knows how it goes. He's happy to listen to her retell it .. and to note what she chooses to emphasize about the tale.]

[He doesn't see it, at first, the comparison. But he does think about the gift she gave him those months ago, the wood carved into a rabbit: the netsuke he doesn't have on him right now but always knows where it is.]

[The little nudge makes it obvious and he looks at her like he's caught off guard, just for a moment. If he is the rabbit ... it looks like that's what she means, although he wouldn't assume it as fact.]

[But if he's the rabbit, then what tale is she?]}

I know. Quite the grand gesture to ensure his safety.

_{[Spoken softly, an opening for her to deliberate if she'd like.]}

Someone had to. Otherwise he might throw himself into a fire for every stranger he meets.

[The smile she flashes him in exchange for that look is light and even a bit sweet, but it doesn't even try to be worthy of being called innocent. She's well aware of the game she's playing, and if he doesn't know — though she suspects he does — he will soon.]

He does live safely ever after in the end, you know.

_{[He muses on that for a moment. It seems like he's going to learn something, isn't he?}

You think that's an ending I'll get?

_{[Showing that yeah, he gets it. He's not sure, though. In a sad way, he's always had a bit of a feeling that he'll probably not make it all too far, in the end. It's not really palpable in the same way here which could let him believe it for a moment, but it's in the back of his mind all the same.]

[And that kind of thinking is in his voice, even with the contemplative smile.]}

[Her response is light, simple; one might even call it effortless.]

If I have my way.

[They've walked a fair distance by now, and are on the verge of the route proper; with the lights of the town behind them, the darkness seems to stretch out for miles upon miles, sprinkled with a dusting of stars, the watchful moon, and the occasional cluster of Clefairy still fluttering their way toward some unknown location in the distance.]

So. Shall we pick out a home for you up there, too?

_{[He smiles.]}

I wouldn't mind staying where I am, for now.

_{[Not an objection, not really. It's said with a certain fondness as he looks over at her and then follows the latest trail of Clefairy with his eyes.]

[It's perhaps a double meaning, too. A small repeat of what he'd told her once before - that he's really not all that eager to get home.]}

I'll be able to come visit you, you know. When I finally make it there.

[Despite the walk and the cool evening air, the contents of the bag in her hand are still warm, but they won't stay that way forever. Metaphorically, that could be a parallel for a lot of things; for the moment, it's enough to simply be the driving force to find a comfortable place to sit and unpack, preferably with a good view of the moon.

The benefit of Route 44 with its twin lakes is that there is also a fine scattering of trees near their banks, and where there are trees there are often stumps and fallen logs — which, when in need of a makeshift bench, are often as good a find as any. So she guides them on, and as they approach she abruptly remembers to surreptitiously watch the branches of the trees for owls and whatever other birds might be out at this hour.]

But for now, I can content myself with just watching.

Stealing the moon as well?

_{[He jokes - it clicked in his mind, the memory of that conversation. A rabbit and a raven, then. Maybe an unlikely pair ... then again, maybe not.]

[He'd been watching the trees as well, although for different reasons, but as he remembers something else from the very same talk, he looks over again and leans slightly towards her, making his next words almost conspiratory.]}

I believe you owe me a moon story.

_{[No just watching here, apparently.]}

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject