taxonomites | 057 ± [visual / location: around town] i like the autumn but this place is getting old

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057 ± [visual / location: around town] i like the autumn but this place is getting old

At roughly quarter to nine in the morning, Taxon is greeted with a video broadcast of a holo broadcast.

"Hello?"

One can tell it's not a proper arrival because instead of the usual stark arrival room, there's a tiny Glitch hovering over a nightstand. Beyond, there is a patchwork quilt covering a shifting, grumbling lump.

"DG...Cain?" From under the covers, Glitch's head emerges and he peers blearily at his tiny duplicate. "Raw?"

"Cute," he mumbles, the props his chin up to watch the show.

"Cain's going to be mad," the hologram remarks fussily. Glitch snorts. "But...no, it's not my fault this time. I was following him! I was following him! I was follow-"

"All right, enough of that." Glitch pokes his tablet so the holo replay of his arrival vanishes, then scowls when he notices that it's still broadcasting. "Guess that's the aliens' way of wishing me a happy anniversary. Morning, all."

Then he turns the tablet off and flops back with a sigh.

Three annuals. Thirty-six months. One hundred fifty-six weeks. Something like a thousand ninety-five days and he's still not sure how he survived the first dozen of them. Illyria'd basically pointed him at the door and he'd been on his own until DG's arrival. Adaptation. Coping. Moving on. Waiting and surviving, that was 90% of this place.

Today, though, he'll keep busy and distribute a few gifts. The first pumpkin from the garden for Cain with a short length of distinctive gold braiding tied around the stem. One of DG's sketchbooks for Azkadellia, a more intimate glimpse of the younger princess' life here. He's ready to let go, and he hopes it will give Az some comfort. The first volume of his organized notes on Taxon for Mayland, a drink or two with Paul after lunch, dropping a scarf off for Madelyne (the days are getting chillier and he frets), and then...then he'll take Bagoas out for dinner. Because why not.

He sends a voice message to his friend to make arrangements (Italian, Glitch decides, will be nice), gets ready for the day, loads a basket with goodies, and sets off on his bicycle to make the rounds.

ooc: THREE YEARS what even. He'll be stopping by to see everyone mentioned above (and all of that's hadnwavey if you like), but anyone not mentioned is totally welcome to bump into him too. OPEN POST IS OPEN.

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Distracting, delightfully distracting as ever. Glitch returns the kiss with a little hum and-- yes, very effective, the cold's easily forgotten. There's a little nose-bump after to make sure it stays away.

"Good. I...I don't wanna be alone." His smile is hopeful and grateful and full of promise as he offers his arm. "Come on, dinner awaits. Have you done this restaurant thing before?"

He fears his chest might burst right open; but the pressure builds only to abate and settle in the most fortifying manner. He inclines his head, sliding both hands around the bend of Glitch's arm, and presses his forehead to his shoulder.

If Glitch won't be on his own, then what better company? None present, surely.

"No. Never. We've no such thing in Persia. I confess I am quite unsure what it entails."

"Oh!" It's a delighted exclaimation and Glitch covers Bagoas' hands with his free one and leads them to the restaurant's door. He grins, all spark and energy. "So the whole thing's new, oh, this'll be fun, I promise!"

They step inside where it's dimly lit but warm, and the air is filled with many tempting aromas dominated by garlic. Glitch gets them through checking their coats, and soon they're settled at a candlelit table in a narrow dining room, jazz piano playing the the bar beyond.

"Right," Glitch begins in the gap between the maitre d' departing and the waiter arriving. "How it works is that for as long as we're here we are the princes of this table. A fella's going to come around soon, he'll pour the water and the wine - I'll pick one out - bring us food, and make sure we're happy. We'll go over the menu together, and I'll explain everything in succulent detail."

He strecthes a hand out, palm up, and smiles encouragingly. "Sound good?"

The way Bagoas takes in his surrounds is perhaps telling of just how new: everything from floor to ceiling gets a wide-eyed look of wondrous delight; every gesture and polite phrase familiar and new at the same time.

Even as they're seated, he can't help but cast his gaze about, turning his head every now and then to take in every detail, until Glitch once more stakes full claim on his attention.

"Princes? Really?" He smiles, as awed by that notion as having Glitch's hand offered to him in such a public space, so openly. He eyes the hand, slits his eyes side to side, and then with a spark of confidence, places his hand in Glitch's palm.

"It sounds lovely."

Glitch smiles and, quite flagrantly, draws Bagoas' hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. "Good, let's do it."

He releases the hand, sorts out the wine, and they carefully go over the menu. The considering of options is thorough (his own shellfish allergy mentioned with some mournful dismay, along with musing about if snails qualified), and the Extra waiter called back to explain the French phrasings which Glitch doesn't understand either.

"Okay," he say with a nod. "Have we decided?"

Bagoas nods, and in the spirit of amalgamation of cultures, they end up ordering not just one dish each but a selection of foods whether they're starters or mains. It is perhaps a good thing that they agree on another thing as well: sweets come after the meat - or Bagoas really wouldn't know where to begin.

"This is really lovely," he tells Glitch over a steaming bowl of creamy pasta that his friend had recommended. He first thought it smelled rancid, and he honestly couldn't name a single thing in the bowl without having been told already, but it surpasses his initial impression by far.

"Not merely the food," he adds, "but the music, the mood...the company. I love it."

For Glitch, there is the rosemary chicken (and one last ravioli from the appetizers) and it's lovely but he's thinking about dessert, the rich bread pudding...yes, good.

Over the course of the meal he'd gone over the past three annuals of his life in Taxon, leaving out the more negative bits such as his own death and the explosion (though Bagoas knew about that, the scars told the story). This night's for the good things, he'll have it no other way.

"I'm glad," he says and finishes his glass of wine. "Really, I'm so happy now, just sharing...dining in a restaurant, a nice one like this, is what we do to mark special occasions in my world."

He pauses, and does his sly smile. "Or if we really want to impress someone."

Bagoas listens throughout with rapt attention, almost forgetting his food for wanting not to miss even the slightest little detail of Glitch's story. Here and there he would ask questions, but mostly he sits quiet and somber, smiling towards the end.

And now, like an echo of Glitch's earlier daring, he reaches to cover his friend's hand with his own.

"You wish to impress me?" he asks softly. "The things you have told me over the course of our meal are by far enough. You have been through such ordeals, Ambrose-" no, he shan't ever tire of using that name. "-and you are stronger for it. Where I come from a man may be robbed his manhood and be set on an unknown path, but a man bereft of his mind..."

He makes a small gesture with his left hand, giving Glitch a warm smile. "May the Great God smile upon you, that you may stride down the path ahead with head held high and brightness in your heart."

Turning his hand over to squeeze Bagoas' fingers, Glitch gives him all the attention he'd received in reciting his tale. His breath catches at the...blessing is the only word he can think of for it, and if the candlelight catches some extra brightness in his eyes he'll be unashamed.

"...thank you," he says, nodding. "I'll-- I try to do that, every day."

It's something of a promise, and he caps it with a smile before reaching back into his coat pocket. "And, well, I hope you don't mind if I try and impress you a little more but I've been giving gifts all day and I've got one more for you. Okay it's one of two for you but-"

And Glitch produces a velvet box, and nestled in the satin lining inside that velvt box is a brooch of some description.

Bagoas isn't sure what he expected, but seeing Glitch moved is enough to bring a small lump of compassion to his own throat. He returns the smile with misty eyes and a caress, before focus shifts completely from bittersweetness to intrigue.

A box?

...for him?

He gapes on opening the box, as intrigued by its soft casing as the beautifully crafted feather. If he wasn't already moved halfway to tears before...

"It's beautiful." It reminds him of home.

Glitch can't help a little relieved sigh, and nods eagerly.

"I think it is too," he replies. "And I'm glad you like it, I just...well, peacocks. I thought it was appropriate."

Because well just look at the pair of them.

"It's perfect," he says, turning eyes that are a touch bright to his friend; his darling, wonderful companion throughout so many troubling times, and good ones too. Perfect little dots to brighten any darkness: such are his memories of Glitch.

Ever expanding specks of light, like stars.

He smiles brightly, pressing the box to his chest and surging forward to wrap Glitch up in a one-armed embrace. "You're perfect. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Glitch returns the half embrace and-- there's a compulsion to contradict because he is far, far from perfect. He's moody, and he snores, and sometimes he's not as brave as he should be and sometimes he feels too much and...

Still he wants to live up to the declaration, and dares a kiss to Bagoas' cheek, a promise, before he draws away.

"I'm...you're welcome, b-but there's something else. At my house. I got you a camera." Pause, grin. "Like the photo albums, remember? You can take your own pictures."

The kiss earns Glitch a firmer squeeze before Bagoas leans back, still fully in Glitch's personal space - or as fully as one can be without actually climbing into someone else's lap for a full body cuddle.

He listens, and as he listens his painted eyebrows move into arcs above his painted eyes; and they truly are a pair of peacocks, the both of them; and then his jaw goes slack.

A camera. A magic box with a window that captures life as you see it, and Glitch has told him how it works, shown him all the little pieces that go into it, and the lenses - his mind goes back to diagrams of light bouncing off surfaces - and before he knows it his breath comes in staccato huffs of air. He's speechless, and he could swear he just swallowed his heart.

But then he laughs, one short bark of a laugh (the bark of a very small dog, but a bark nonetheless), and clamps his hands over his mouth.

He never knew the difference between the gift that enhances your beauty and draws the eye, and the gift that enhances your mind, that you can learn and figure out and use for something greater than yourself.

Never before tonight.

And Glitch wants to hold his hands and just fold him close and soon, soon soon soon...

"I'll settle the bill," he says softly, eyes bright and wide. "And we'll go home, and you can test it. I wanna see what you do."

Bagoas nods, happy tears threatening once more; he ducks his head to trace his lower lashes with delicate index fingers, smiling.

"Yes." He looks up, lashes damp and spirits soaring to untold heights. "You simply must show me everything. I'll use you as my subject, of course."

He stands, box still held close to his chest. It is no less precious to him now another promise crackles in the air between them; just as precious and beautiful as before, but in a different capacity.

"I'll get our clothes, shall I?"

"Of course. Whatever you like, of course," Glitch replies and considers the past three annuals. He'd needed so much help upon arriving in this impossible place, so much guidance, and he'd learned lessons the hard, painful way. It was that, probably, which drove him to be so protective of those who came at their weakest moment, and which helped lift his soul when they thrive.

And with Bagoas...he's found that he's not as secure as he'd told himself, that he still needs both support and surrender, to be held up and taken care of. He's a curious scientist and a more than willing subject.

"Please and thank you." And whatever credits this evening, these gifts have set him back? Are beyond well-spent.

Outerwear's collected and draped over two sets of shoulders, one after the other, bills are settled, and arm in arm they set course for home via the nearest available mode of transport.

Belly full and heart warmed, Bagoas stays close and cuddled up throughout the ride and consequent walk to Glitch's charming house. Arm in arm or fingers twined; or both, as fancy strikes.

"In case I forget," he tells Glitch as they turn onto his front yard, tilting his head upwards to better nuzzle his jawline. "Thank you for a lovely night."

That's it, he can't bear it another second and Glitch stops right there on the walk and meets that upward tilt with a downward one to claim a kiss he's wanted for a good hour. He's warm and happy and beyond satisfied with the day and the evening, but still filled with anticipation for what's next.

He hums, kisses Bagoas' cheek for good measure, and flashes a grin. "Thank you for making it lovelier," he replies and nods to the door. "Come on, I...suspect you might have plans for me."

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057 ± [visual / location: around town] i like the autumn but this place is getting old

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