lostcarnival | for purity's sake.

Entry tags:

for purity's sake.

Who: Alois Trancy, The Psiioniic
What: Alois is a Grade A Butthead, but he's got a good heart in there somewhere. He's about to aggressively show it to Psi, and will probably look like a giant toolbag while he does it.
Where: Supervisor trailer #5
When: Late afternoon, edging into early evening -- S1:D13
Warnings: Bad language and bad behavior... should be tame though.

The knocking on the trailer door isn't going to stop any time soon. It's harsh and heated and insistent, a sharp-knuckled rapping with no reprieve. It will probably get pretty annoying pretty fast. No wonder, then, that the Psiioniic will find Alois standing outside the door, when he opens it. (Pretty annoying, pretty fast!) Alois has looked better. He's still glittery with faerie gems, but his special glow spots have a sickly tinge to them, and the half-moons underneath his eyes are so intense they almost look like makeup. He must be exhausted—he is exhausted, though it's his own fault. He has been sleeping as little as possible.

More importantly, he looks quite stern. Anger isn't a new look for him, he wears it like it's fashionable, but often it comes off as petty or overemotional. Random, even, sometimes. This particular anger, this sternness, is more unusual to see on him. He has taken his arrival to this trailer quite seriously, and he wants to be taken seriously, too.

At first he only barely glances at Psi, when the door is opened—instead he rubbernecks, leaning left to peer past Psi as best he can. He's obviously trying to get a view of the trailer's interior; he's shameless and has no problem being nosy as hell. But whatever he sees or doesn't see isn't satisfying, so he straightens himself back properly, folds his arms primly, and looks up into Psi's face.

"Is she here?" The subject in question is probably obvious, but he doesn't bother to elaborate. Instead: "Look, I need to talk to you."

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It wasn't that it was hard to annoy the Psiioniic. The yellowblood was actually quite easy to upset, mention his caste, the empress, or the rebellion and you'd probably see him get quite angry relatively quick. However, things like persistent knocking and angry young humans weren't likely to upset him much. Honestly, he was more likely to be amused than annoyed at most of the other workers antics, and Alois was no exception. This is why he waits on the other side of his door a bit longer than usual. He's just curious, really, wondering how long Alois will knock on his door before beginning to shout at him through the metal. He'd wait for quite a while it turned out, and so Psionic was forced to open the door, though he did nothing about the amused smile on his face.

That was until he saw the bags under Alois' eyes and the sickly tinge to his skin. The Psiioniic wasn't an expert in humans, but he was pretty sure this was abnormal for them. He tilts his head to the side as Alois tries to look around him, growing more confused by the second. His usually constant smile fades as Alois fails to adequately explain the reason for his visit.

"Okay. Talk."

In many things, perhaps even to the point of it being a character flaw, Alois is impatient. He has too much energy and emotion churning inside him to wait very long for anything; when they churn, his heart churns too, and his heart dictates all that he does. So too often, Alois is trying to force his way through the present and into his faulty foresight of the future... Too often, he's trying to make things happen instantaneously, demanding results.

For once his manner allows a moment of rest. Well, maybe not rest—there's definitely something going on inside him, that much is clear in the ferocity of his knocking, and then likewise the ferocity of his stare when the Psiioniic finally opens the door and invites explanation. But Alois' body is settled, no tapping of feet, no coiled spring in his spine. He looks about like the surface of a lake, complete with pond scum. Except he is brittle, too, and preemptively unforgiving. More like a lake in the winter, but too unstable for skating.

He's glad the Psiioniic isn't smiling right now. This is no smiling matter. This is no time for anything but severity. So he is quite severe indeed when he says, "Explain your intentions toward that young woman." In tone and in forthright command, one could really believe that Alois Trancy is an Earl.

It's a feeling the Psionic can understand. He wasn't the most patient of people either in his youth, and he had the power and lack of foresight to try and force things. Things changed, and he grew out of it, but he certainly doesn't fault Alois for being a storm of emotional chaos. He especially can't fault him for acting that way if he's as tired as he looks.

Still, it's impossible for him to determine the cause of Alois' distress. Perhaps to Alois it seems impossible to misunderstand, but the Psionic has a completely different cultural framework than Alois. Intention in his time doesn't equate to romantic or even sexual intentions. Furthermore, his society is matriarchal, so it's very difficult for him to understand why anyone would be protective of someone due to the simple fact that they are female. However, he does understand wanting to protect the young, and he definitely understands wanting to protect people you care about. He assumes, without much thought, that there may be a budding moirallegiance between the two, a type of non-sexual romantic relationship that is common among trolls.

Still that doesn't explain Alois' specific use of the word intention and the Psionic is left with a very distinct impression that Alois' is talking about something he really hasn't any understanding of.

"Um. I guess to let her stay here? I just didn't think it was a good idea to let her live with Junko."

Shrug??????

It's frankly ridiculous for Alois to use the word intention in these circumstances anyway; but he is paranoid, and he equates charity or general high-standing with something very foul. The worst part is he can't be blamed for this, although nobody else would know it. Alois is mistrustful of men—really, all adults—and he's skeptical that good things exist in many people. Bonnie is a child, but Alois knows very well that children don't get free passes from anything terrible. So...

Well, the Psionic's claim just makes Alois more suspicious. A bit of bafflement, perhaps, in the wrinkle of his nose and the squint of his light eyes.

"That's kind of you," he says, but the way he says it sounds like a threat, aggressive. Not that there's much threatening about Alois, unless he's in a position to kick you in the shin, but he's certainly capable of vitriol. He squares his shoulders, tries again to be professional. "So why the charity?"

That response only makes the Psionic feel more concerned. He can't really tell what Alois is thinking, but it's clear from his tone he doesn't believe much in Psionic's goodwill. Which, is honestly a bit hurtful. They'd worked together here long enough that the Psionic felt like this wasn't something about him that would be questioned. Either Alois was really just that distrustful, really that sleepy, or the Psionic had made a terrible first impression. If most of Alois' knowledge of him was coming from Silver though, it wasn't too difficult to see why Alois might have a negative view of him. It didn't matter what the reason was, Psi didn't like any of them, he especially didn't like the thought of a tired Alois stewing over some misinterpreted offense. So he opened the door wider, and stepped aside.

"Do you want to come in? We can talk about this at the table. Maybe have some tea?"

It's really no reflection on the Psionic, though Alois doesn't know how to explain that—he doesn't know how to explain any of this. Honestly it's his opinion that it should be very obvious that adults, and men especially, are untrustworthy, that they're all going to be secretly vile. Alois honestly hasn't minded Psi, despite whatever Silver may have said, because Alois felt like he could take care of himself. But Bonnie is different, she's too young to take care of herself (wasn't Alois, too? when he was little like her, when he was stealing bread for his brother?), and so now Alois is prickling, his mistrust sticking out of him like a porcupine's spines.

At least the Psionic seems willing to listen—Could be a ploy, whispers Alois' paranoid heart. For a long moment, his insides tenser than he looks externally, Alois stares. Then he takes a breath, holds it for a second, and lets it out.

He can take care of himself. He can. It feels dangerous, walking into Psi's trailer—not because of Psi! Just because of the past—but Alois has always been bold, and he wants to get his point across. He wants to better gauge the situation. Psi has always seemed like an okay guy, Alois hadn't held much bile toward him, but everyone's secretly got their awful parts, right? And what adult is nice to a child for the hell of it? It doesn't make sense, not to Alois' bruised heart. Maybe he's going to make Bonnie do all the housework to earn her keep. Maybe he's going to fill her head with unsavory ideas. Alois doesn't know, he just can't trust that something bad won't happen.

"Yes, all right." It's mild, it's thin. He follows the Psionic into the trailer, exhaling at length. "I'll take some tea."

He smiles, happy that Alois at least seems willing to talk about whatever brought him here peacefully. He closes the door after his guest before moving to set a kettle on his stove. He busies himself with the task, hoping giving Alois some space to look around will help him feel more comfortable.

The trailer is big, all supervisor's trailers are. It's not messy, but there are a lot of random items covering various parts of the counter-tops. The kitchen looks clean because it mostly goes unused. There's a couch and a TV opposite it and a messy sprawl of wires from a video game console that's connected to it. He sets some cups on the kitchen table.

"Sorry, I don't keep much food in here otherwise I'd offer you some." he moves back to the kitchen, rummaging through his cabinet for same actual tea packets. It takes him a moment to find them.

"So. I guess you're worried about Bonnie? You don't want her staying with me?" he doesn't sound accusatory, far from it it. He simply sound curious, not even looking at Alois as he moves to find some sugar.

Everything about the trailer is processed with a series of critical glances. Alois is critical not only for himself—he's trying to gauge the situation, having grown accustomed to feeling unsafe without his butler nearby—but for Bonnie's sake as well. The random items? Criticized. Alois doesn't care what they are, but children like to touch things. Yeah, okay, he likes to mess with stuff, too, but teaching his own brother the essence of safety... Well, he remembers.

Criticized above all else, though, is the comment about food. Alois grimaces fiercely, and it's not even for show, never mind whether Psi looks at him to see it—it's a gut reaction. "If you think you're going to do this," he says severely, "you better had start to keep much food round in here. Children stay too small if they don't eat, and they can get hungry at any moment." He sounds like he's giving instructions, or even like he's giving commands.

He sits, at least. Legs crossed, hands folded atop the table. His back is straight; his chin is raised. He wants to look lordly, because this is a very serious matter to him. A breath, then— "Whether I want it or not..." His chin wrinkles a bit, before he shakes his head and eases his face back into regality. "More importantly, why did you decide to take her in?"

He stops, surprised at the comment. He hadn't really thought about it, but when he was a wiggler he did have a voracious appetite. Of course he'd been burning through his psionic energy much more than he did now back then as well. Still, Bonnie was already so small, Psi didn't want her to stop growing. Better safe than sorry was a good rule of thumb.

"Oh. That makes sense." He really hadn't thought about it, he just went to the cookhouse whenever he was hungry. He figured Bonnie would do the same, but maybe that wasn't the case. He makes a mental note to ask Bonnie about it later at the very least. He steeps the tea before bringing the kettle and sugar over to the table.

When it comes to why he took her in, well there really wasn't much thought behind it. He figures saying as such to the boy at his table however, wouldn't go over well. He tries to be more specific.

"Well. Junko is kind of rude and pushy. I guess I didn't want her to tease someone so young. My trailer is bigger than the others cause I'm a supervisor. So it just made sense to invite her to stay here."

At least, it had made sense to him. He hoped other people could see the logic behind that statement as well. He sits down across from Alois trying to think of things from a human perspective. He supposed it was a bit odd for a troll to offer a roof to a human child. They weren't known for being a particularly giving species. Furthermore the Psionic was probably the person who knew least about the things a human child could want or need.

"I guess I wouldn't mind if she wanted to stay with someone else... I just thought things would be easier this way?"

He pours the tea before setting the kettle aside.

"I guess I don't know a lot about human children, but I asked Bonnie to tell me if she needed anything and she seemed to think that was alright. Is there a lot that I'm doing wrong already?"

Projecting. Alois is totally projecting. The worst part is that he's one hundred percent aware of it. Or maybe worse than that is that he isn't stopping himself. He tells himself Bonnie deserves better than someone who's just trying to make himself feel better. He tells himself that Luca's— Alois swallows, curling his fingers against the tabletop and frowning down at them, lips pursed. Luca's memory deserves better than a too-late indulgence for his shitty older brother's ego.

But, you know, oh well. Alois has never been good at stopping the stuff he shouldn't do.

He wraps his hands around one of the cups of tea, and pulls it toward himself. No sugar just yet; and he doesn't move to drink it, either. He stares at its steaming surface, taking a steadying breath. Then he looks up at the Psionic. "It's like, it's like divination, sometimes. Even if she says she'll tell you what she want, a little kid doesn't always know. She might not know if she's grown an inch and needs new clothes because of it; she might not know if she's got a fever. And the food— You know— It's good to feed her three meals a day, but the little ones, they should be able to eat whenever they want." He thinks, strained, that he would have fed Luca any time his tummy rumbled, if he could have. If he could have. Yeah, yeah, he's projecting, whatever—Bonnie should get to eat whenever she wants. "Good bread, good apples, and sweets. Give her a sweet if she starts crying. Don't tell her she can't cry—let her cry about anything, and stay with her until she feels better. Give her toys and tell her stories. Tell her good stories, about love and happy endings, even if it's a lie like that—sometimes a kid needs a lie, they don't need to know everything about the world just yet. Sometimes a kid needs..."

He trails off here, wondering if he's babbling, but it all feels really important. It's all important. The Psionic doesn't know what the hell he's doing, Alois can tell; but, to be fair, Jim Macken didn't know what he was doing, either. He tried his best, but sometimes your best isn't enough, and...

Once more, he exhales. "Sometimes a kid needs more than you can give. But you have to try anyway. If you're going to take care of her, you have to really take care of her. With everything you have. She can't take care of herself, so she's helpless. Don't let her be alone in that."

He's still for a moment after that, quiet, before he flares back to life and grabs the sugar. Then he dumps some into his tea, vaguely vicious about it, eyebrows creasing.

"That's if, of course, you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart." There's acid there, like he still doesn't really believe it.

Like divination, he holds back a smile at the description. There's a lot that Alois is telling him. He almost feels as though he should be taking notes. It's a lot of useful information, but it's not really what Alois is saying that keeps his attention. It's the reason he's saying it that makes the Psionic really listen. Of course the yellowblood doesn't really know why Alois seems so intent on making sure Bonnie is cared for, but it's obvious that Bonnie's wellbeing is Alois' intent. The way Alois talks and the way Alois acts while he's speaking make it clear that this is something important to him, and the Psionic can't help but wonder why.

She's helpless, the words really make him think. Of course those thoughts are interrupted when Alois suddenly grabs for the sugar and aggressively begins pouring it into his tea. Right, the other boy is still suspicious.

"I don't know how I can convince you that I am, but I really do just want to help her."

Is there something he can say to convince Alois of his sincerity? He thinks about it carefully. He thinks about his lusus, and his own brief childhood. He remembers the wigglers even younger than him that had been caught.

"...You're right that kids need help. They can't protect themselves like adults can... I just want to help."

It feels like an understatement. He knows he's not saying any of this right, but hopefully it makes at least a little bit of sense to the human.

The sugar dissolves in the piping hot tea, and Alois watches its crystals dissipate. (He wishes his own crystals would dissipate; the gemstones on his own skin still horrify him.) He's quiet while this happens, and whatever is happening inside him happens far below his surface; anything molten is hidden away, and for now, nothing about him is scathing. He breathes in a mellow way, he idles his fingers in a mellow way. He takes a drink of tea, that done mellow as well.

He shuts his eyes as he swallows, and then opens them again to look at Psi. "I miss real tea," he says mournfully. "Or, you know, good tea, the sort a gentleman such as myself ought to be drinking daily." Almost as if to challenge his own assessment of himself as a "gentleman," he sets one of his elbows on the table—rude!—and settles his chin in his hand. "Well... Yes, all right, you want to help. I can see that." Well, he can sort of see it? The Psionic seems earnest, at least. But Alois is certain that anyone can be a liar. Just look at him!

But it's not like he has any authority here. And he can't just go around... shanking people or... No, he can't do anything about anything. All he has is the strength of his word, and in a case like that, composure is better than a temper. He learned that from Claude, and it's hard to practice, but sometimes the necessary things are hard.

"You must be very careful," he says finally, softly. "She needs... you. Well, she needs someone, but perhaps you will do." Here he pauses, biting something back, face a bit pinched. Then: "I'll help you if I can."

Alois' silence is unnerving in some way. He cannot tell what the young human is thinking, or even if he has taken the Psionic's words seriously. When he finally responds only to mention tea the Psionic is a little thrown off. Then again, perhaps that was Alois' intent. He hesitates, not sure what else there is to say, but feeling like there is something he should say.

"... Do you want to stay the night or something? So you can see how she's doing here?"

He really does want help if it's being offered, but more than that he wants to help Alois feel more at ease with the current situation.

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for purity's sake.

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