A Note Or Two

[thatched]

[sometime in the night, two notes will be found under very specific doors]

Espio lad,
Come and talk with me.
-Thatch


My sweetest lady Grell,
I beg your forgiveness for my borish behavior and general bad attitude regarding your lovely person. Please allow me to have but a moment of your kind indulgence at your earliest convenience. I swear that I shall make it up to you in spades.
Forever Yours,
Thatch

Comments

[redcinemareel]

[The cats she keeps in her room are actually the one that discover the note. Grell only notices that they do so when she hears scratching noises. Curiously, she goes to search for them and finds them tearing up the letter.]

Shoo! Stop that! [Grell rushes over, mostly to make them scatter away, and picks up the letter. It's pretty torn up, but the words are untouched. She opens it up and reads it, her eyebrow rising at the flowery words. It's...really weird.]

Is he in the rum again? [She shrugs and simply leaves her room, dressed in a fluffy, phoenix blue robe. She had another one, that was red, but she didn't feel like changing. She'll just head on down to Thatch's room instead of just popping inside, like she was prone to do.

Once she arrives, she'll knock on the door.]

[espio]

[Ugh. Ugh. Does he have to?

No. Thatch has been okay to him... ish. The distinct impression that he doesn't like or even want to try to like him, despite its importance to Marco, can be nudged aside for a bit. Right?

...

Espio wants to ignore it and go to bed, but he figures that wouldn't help anything.

Well. Better go see what he wants. He'll be in his dorm, right?]

[thatched]

[judging from the height of the knock, that's Grell rather than Espio. Well, he didn't expect her quite this early, but he was nevertheless prepared. Thatch takes but a second to spread the red tablecloth on the table and takes the red velvet cake to set on the counter, before opening the door]

My lady.

[he feels the familiar tightness in his chest on seeing her but brushes it aside. Whatever he had felt then. It is in the past--and now he can like her without interference. He steps aside, making a broad sweeping gesture.]

Please, come in...and forgive the audacity. I think I might have went overboard.

[thatched]

[must be Espio. Possibly Toby but he bet not. He opened the door and smiled down at the chameleon who--in all honesty--well it was an adjustment for everyone]

Come in.

[there is a small snack on the table, along the lines of what Espio usually prepares for him despite them being at odds.]

Please, sit down and help yourself. [he gestured to the table]

Want a drink?

[redcinemareel]

[Grell is so very confused, and she peers inside, not quite stepping in yet. Is that...red velvet cake? And a red table cloth? She peers up at Thatch before placing a hand onto his forehead.]

Are you ill? [Just a few days ago he couldn't stand to be around her.]

[thatched]

No. Merely repentant. [was she reluctant? Apprehensive?] And I enjoy spoiling my family.

[he'd even brought wine but that seemed a little much. But since Grell seemed to have a flare for the dramatic, perhaps later. When they were more comfortable... definitely some roses. Something grand and silly but sincere]

[espio]

[Eyes the snack, and watches it for a moment as though thinking it's going to explode or something. You gave him a note in the middle of the night to give him food?]

...okay... I'll go with a drink...

What do you want?

[redcinemareel]

[She was very reluctant. And apprehensive. Usually those who are this sweet to her after being threatened usually were up to no good. For now, she'll accept the invitation and step inside.]

Family, hmm? [She walks over to the table, dipping a finger into the icing and licking it off.] Did you make this yourself?

[thatched]

Aye. What would you like?

[and the middle of the night is the best time for food. Shh]

To apologize for being an ass. To ask you what you do want for this wedding thing, or perhaps, want to avoid at all costs? You should be happy with it and it's easier for the quieter ones to be run over.

[thatched]

That I did, sweet lady. [he hesitates, then pushes on] And aye, family. Marco's and mine.

[he leans against the wall at a short distance so he won't loom over her. She was wary. Perhaps she'd lived a closed off life before. Fewer to trust and this seemed suspicious. Well he wasn't sure if he could ally her of that just yet.]

I was trying to help Marco that day. [he looks away] I was concerned. And having to bargain in order to help hurt me. That's not something my brothers ever did.

[he glances back at her and bows his head]
However, I've cut that hurt away, sweet lady, and wish to start anew.

[espio]

Don't care, grab what you got and throw it to me. If I don't like it, I'll tell you.

[...wait. It's Thatch. He's gonna assume he means something alcoholic.]

Better make it water or a soft drink.

You know, apologising and suddenly trying to be nice looks kind of suspicious... I'll go with it, though. [Yeah, he's just gonna sort of sit down and watch Thatch expectantly, waiting for him to introduce a conversation, because right now he just feels awkward.]

[redcinemareel]

[Grell looks to him, trying to fit the words to the situation with all that she remembers. Yes, she could only trust her own kind, and even then, she found out that she really couldn't even do that. Thanks, Undertaker.

Even though she started it with being half of Jack the Ripper.

No, it would take time for Grell to trust him, especially now.

So, that was crawling under his skin all this time? Wanting to help but bargaining for it?]

I'd be careful with what you cut, dear. It can scar. [She crossed her arms, looking bored, but wanting to eat that cake. Just tasting the icing made her want it!] If you wish to do something, I'd suggest being a bit clearer with your intentions. No one ever gets something for nothing.

[thatched]

[he laughs] It is, right? [he pours Espio a glass of water since he really doesn't have anything carbonated and sets it down for him before sitting across from him]

How can he be like this when he's been an ass. What is his angle? That sort of thing. I would be suspicious, too.

But what is stubborn pride compared to family, eh? Connections are rare enough n this world, or any of them. Might as well cherish each one you have.

[thatched]

[It might take time, true. But time is what this place is all about-- and he is patient and persistent. He shrugs lightly at her words]

What is a scar but a memory? And some scars fade in time. But clearer, aye. I'll keep that in mind. [and just not bargain over something so sensitive. Perhaps it's better to go through Marco in a case like that.]

Shall I cut you a piece? Or would you prefer wine instead?

[espio]

Hm.

[Sips at the water.]

You're part of Marco's family, which makes you part of mine. Neither of us asked for that, but it's as they say - you don't really choose your family. Seems it holds true even when blood isn't involved. Your family chooses you and you just have to go along with it.

Still, it's hard to make the best of it when the others don't want to try. Should I to take this to mean you've decided to start trying, now?

Because no lie, I was getting pretty pissed off.

[redcinemareel]

I'd leave the scars to the professionals. [She really didn't like scars, at least not on her own body.]

Wine, as well? Did you make that too? [If he said yes...]

[thatched]

You and me both. [he had been trying, but what did it matter? Communication was still such a difficult thing and he brushes the spike in aggravation aside.]

But I am who I am, Espio. Interfering in wedding plans, wanting to invite guests or change the colors--I wanted to be included. Aye, it's your day. But for me, celebrations are about family. Being together and sharing a common united symbol. It doesn't have to be Pops'.

[he lets out an shaky breath and t feels as if he's letting go of something that he can never get back. But for Marco's sake he will. For Marco's sake he will rebuild himself]

I just want something that represents all of us.

[espio]

So basically, you want to take Grell's place as my mother in law.

[Because seriously, she's the one with the actual position to be an annoying, overbearing, controlling "DO THIS ALL MY WAY" pest.]

[thatched]

I am a professional. [a swordsman, shield, fighter until the last man, didn't get away without getting a scar or three. But for his beloved family he would be seamed with them]

I didn't make the wine, alas. My talents are little and mostly resigned to food, parties and espionage.

[he pours her a glass, though, just in case she should want it]

[thatched]

[He rests his chin on his fist] Well I don't have much experience with mothers-in-law, but no. I want to find a place of my own.

[redcinemareel]

Then I have little to worry about.

[The espionage part she could agree with.

She'll have a seat, then, watching him pour the glass.]

You'll join me, correct? With cake.

[thatched]

Nothing would give me greater pleasure.

[and he pours himself a glass before cutting a slice for both of them and laying it out]

Grell... [he lets her name hang in the stillness for a moment] I want you to understand me. Whether or not you reciprocate is entirely up to you, but should you wish it, I'll tell you what is under my mask for absolutely nothing.

[espio]

You could say it's their traditional role to try and make a wedding "right" according to their own wants rather than the couple's.

Give us some credit. Family's too important to both of us for them to be left out! But please just remember it's our day - we'll always get chances to celebrate being family, but we'll only ever have one wedding. I swear you'll be included, but let us be at least a little selfish with it, okay?

It's already bad enough thinking Grell's gonna try and take control without you two fighting for it.

[redcinemareel]

[That cake...it looks so very good. She's kinda salivating. Grell has little need for food, but she'll indulge in this--

At hearing her name, she looks up to Thatch. The pause makes her brace for what's to come. Marco has told her much of what makes Thatch tick in the worst ways. Perhaps hearing it from the source is best. However...]

How am I to know there is not yet another mask?

[thatched]

Aye and understood.

[he would do his best to keep an eye on the situation, then. Hopefully by that time he would understand Grell and Espio enough to tug threads here and there to make the entire day more comfortable and pleasing for both concerned.]

And sometime before that... [he swallowed and his voice broke a little] I would like your help in composing a memorial for my father.