mathis has retrieved his belongings, dressed more normally (for a visual novel definition of normal), and marginally less panicked than yesterday...
but it's still difficult for him to approach others. if camille feels like she's being watched... well, that would be mathis, who is doing a bad job at hiding his fascination as he peers at her from wherever he's currently tucked himself against a wall.]
[good thing she's already met lucas and gale, less culture shock with you weirdass vidya and animes. She's normal and is in a sweater and jeans, both mere shades away from black.
She's keen enough to sense eyes on her back. When she spies the shy young lad with the Loreal hair cowering against the wall she feels an acute relief. As long as he doesn't turn out to be part of a haunting.
She tilts her head at him, smiling softly. Come out, kiddo.]
[Give her a fiver, she needs time to digest that.]
It just kills them? [Sounds like the Hollywood dream factory. Never grow old, die young and beautiful and tragic. Marketable. Camille shakes her head.] I don't get it, what kind of curse is that? What's the point?
W-we don't know. Sometimes it happens earlier, but... everyone develops symptoms by the time they're around twenty-two at the latest... a-and no kind of treatment will stop it. Medicines won't... prolong anyone's life past that age.
[Christ, what kind of world must that be? She can't imagine what state the economy is in. The government. A country ruled by hormonal waifs with a death sentence.
What a nightmare.]
How did it become a curse? You guys piss off a wizard?
I-it's been like that as long as we're aware of... um, we were able to develop ways to get around it, but even a cloned body will only live for twenty-three years.
So no record of what went wrong. But you all know that it's not natural — either you have history to tell you that or people from other places.
[Something pauses in her. Is this really productive? She's not going to solve his mystery from a hundred lightyears away, and they don't know shit about each other.
Camille grimaces, then puts on a smile.]
Hey, for what it's worth? We old folks aren't so scary. Just people with extra dings and scrapes.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intro weekend, saturday
mathis has retrieved his belongings, dressed more normally (for a visual novel definition of normal), and marginally less panicked than yesterday...
but it's still difficult for him to approach others. if camille feels like she's being watched... well, that would be mathis, who is doing a bad job at hiding his fascination as he peers at her from wherever he's currently tucked himself against a wall.]
no subject
She's keen enough to sense eyes on her back. When she spies the shy young lad with the Loreal hair cowering against the wall she feels an acute relief. As long as he doesn't turn out to be part of a haunting.
She tilts her head at him, smiling softly. Come out, kiddo.]
no subject
finally, he manages to emerge from his spot, hands fidgeting with the cloth of his coat.]
S-sorry... I didn't mean to stare, Madame...
no subject
[Here, she'll meet him halfway, taking a soft step or two closer. Her hands tuck into her back pockets and the smile stays congenial.]
Not a big people person?
no subject
[he's peak levels of shut-in, is the problem.]
Um, and I don't usually... see people who look like you.
no subject
[Even if she only qualifies by a slim margin. Wild guess here.]
no subject
[which is unfortunate, because his actual answer is-]
I... I meant your age.
no subject
Boarding school?
no subject
[what is that. arpechele doesn't have those, i'm pretty sure.]
no subject
[But that's not it.]
You're telling me you've never seen a woman over thirty?
no subject
[it's worse, actually.]
I've never seen anyone over twenty-three...
1/2
no subject
[Or is it Children of the Corn? He may not have that backwater twang but maybe they made a euro-twink spin-off.]
Why not? Do they shoot you on your birthday or something?
no subject
[he's too french for children of the corn, for sure.]
N-nobody shoots anyone-! [you mean with arrows right? arrows, right-] We just don't... live past then...
no subject
Maybe that's just his disposition though.]
Why not?
no subject
[so, you know, probably still supremely sus. sorry camille.]
no subject
It just kills them? [Sounds like the Hollywood dream factory. Never grow old, die young and beautiful and tragic. Marketable. Camille shakes her head.] I don't get it, what kind of curse is that? What's the point?
no subject
[there's no cure for it, just inevitable death.]
no subject
[Christ, what kind of world must that be? She can't imagine what state the economy is in. The government. A country ruled by hormonal waifs with a death sentence.
What a nightmare.]
How did it become a curse? You guys piss off a wizard?
no subject
[what government! this is a monarchy, ma'am.]
no subject
[Something pauses in her. Is this really productive? She's not going to solve his mystery from a hundred lightyears away, and they don't know shit about each other.
Camille grimaces, then puts on a smile.]
Hey, for what it's worth? We old folks aren't so scary. Just people with extra dings and scrapes.