wintershepherd | [TUSHANSHU] IC Inbox

[She recognized the book, only now realizing what its intended purpose had been. A record of anyone and everyone he had lost. Judging by how many pages in he was...it had been a lot.]

[Her petite frame slipped into the room with barely a sound, crossing the room until she was at his side. But she didn't sit, instead opting to bend down in hopes of meeting his lowered gaze. Thanks to the magic, she couldn't tell how cold it was exactly, but she could guess by the way her breath was barely visible in the air. One hand reached out to gently cover his, during which time Jack may or may not notice that her arms were similarly (un)covered in short sleeves.]

Are you sure you should be doing that right now?

[Having only just found out. Maybe give things a little time to process?]

[ To be fair he'd gone back through the network and tried to make pages for those who'd come and gone whether he knew them or not, even ones who had left before his arrival. Those sections were thin, but they still deserved to be recorded. Each page for those he'd known however, was filled with Jack's thoughts and observations of said people, tidbits and facts and things they'd said. If she were to check the earlier pages she'd find that his writing had actually improved quite a bit since he'd started, the repetition and practice smoothing the spidery script into something a little nicer, a little more defined. ]

I don't want to get behind.

[ He stopped writing when she put her hand atop his, not wanting to smudge the ink... real ink, not what came in modern ballpoints. He'd learned on this sort though, his idle scriblings so it wasn't entirely unfamiliar. ]

[Behind. As if he expected more to come, and wanted to be ready for them.]

[Gently, she shook her head and moved to guide the pen from his hands back onto the table. She recognized the ink for what it was, having used similar mixtures in several of her own writings, and took care not to brush against the page.]

You won't.

Come on. Just a short break, to clear your mind so you can gather your thoughts. I'll make you some cocoa?

You don't have to treat me like a baby, Zatanna.

[ The rebuke is crisp, though not harsh. ]

You can tell me that you think I should take a break without fluffing it up.

[Honestly?]

[It wasn't the worst reaction she could've gotten. Though it was enough to give her pause. Briefly, she considered pulling away. Standing back up again. Except she wasn't going to back down, no matter how annoyed at her he got. So she stayed where she was, hand firmly in place.]

Okay, fine. I think you should take a break.

After this page, I'm almost done.

[ The writing about about 3/4 of the way down the page; he knew Bruce would take far more than a single page to transcribe everything he wanted to put down but after one seemed a more logical place to stop. ]

If you want to start the kettle now, go ahead.

[She wanted to protest. Take the book from him altogether. But it didn't take a soothsayer to see where that would lead. Compromise it was, then. She stood up, nodding head head, and moved towards the door.]

Alright.

I'll be in the kitchen. Come down when you're ready.

[ Jack comes down about ten minutes later, going to the sink to wash his hands of ink that no amount of practice will ever prevent from getting onto the skin between the fingers. He's changed his shirt too, found a casual shirt over a plain tee that he actually seems fairly comfortable in. He's been trying to make conscientious effort to actually wear more clothes picked this up from a kedan shop that was experimenting in clothing based on the styles Foreigners seemed to favour. ]

[By that point, Zatanna was nearly finished with their drinks. The kettle whistled softly, at which time she picked it up and poured into the two mugs on the counter. Over on the table, there was also a small bowl full of ice. For him to cool down the drink as he saw fit.]

[She said nothing when he came in. Though she did do a double take at the shirt. It was...different. And it looked really good on him.]

[Once the drinks were properly mixed, she came over placed the other one down on the table before taking a sip of her own. Leaning against the edge rather than sit down. Waiting for him to say something.]

[ Jack slid into his seat and wrapped his hands gingerly around the steaming mug, giving a little huff of amusement at the bowl of ice because he was pretty sure he could have made his own but appreciated the thoughtfulness of the gesture. ]

Thanks.

[ He picked up one of the ice cubes and dropped it into the cocoa, watching it rapidly begin to shrink in the hot liquid. ]

[It was the little things that counted most when she didn't know where they stood. The amusement at the bowl of ice, even though they both knew he could have simply cooled down the mug with his own power. Her way of trying to compensate because she knew the cocoa would be too hot when she gave it to him. But it was the only way to properly dissolve the chocolate in the milk.]

[The fact that he thanked her. Breaking the silence. She smiled faintly.]

You didn't have to dress up for me, you know. Not that I'm complaining.

Guys always used to dress up before they could come down to dinner. Can't have you thinking I'm uncivilized or something.

[ A faint tease, his usual habit of pulling old tidbits of fact out of nowhere. ]

Oh, am I making dinner now? I don't remember getting that memo.

[Her shoulders relaxed a little as she took a sip of her drink. Deliberately smirking at the uncivilized line, but saying nothing in reply.]

If it's me or you cooking, remember that I can only taste half the food. Maybe it'd be better if we ordered in.

No dishes? Count me in.

What are you in the mood for?

Honestly? I'd be all right with sandwiches or something. But if you have something you'd prefer, that'd be fine too.

[If all he wanted was a sandwich, they could have easily up something together for themselves. It was hardly the most complicated recipe, after all, but since he put the idea of ordering in her mind, she had an idea.]

What about that deli place down the street? Their stuff is pretty good. And, actually....

[Holding out one hand, she summoned what looked like a menu. One of a handful she'd collected from the surrounding businesses. Opening it up, she came over to the table and placed both her mug of tea and the menu down so Jack could get a better look at the selections.]

...what do you think? See anything you like?

[ Jack looked at the menu without really seeing much of it, then set his finger on one of the choices. ]

That one's good.

[She leaned over just enough to get a good look at which one he chose, her hair lightly brushing against his shoulder as it fell around her.]

Alright.

I'll go order. Do you mine if I use your console upstairs?

Yeah, of course. I'll be right here.

I won't be long.

[She knew his place as well as he knew hers, as evident by the cocoa, and it took almost no thought to navigate her way back up the stairs to his console. Placing the order wasn't difficult. They recognized her, and even knew roughly where the treehouse was located.]

[Payment was on her, she insisted, and if a white-haired boy happens to open the door, tell him that it's on her tab.]

[Once everything was set up, and the estimated time of delivery given, she headed back downstairs to find Jack.]

Twenty minutes, they said.

That's pretty good.

[ The response is automatic more than approval of the time frame. ]

I should check on Tony, too. They were friends, this Tony... well, the last one too.

[She nodded absently, and moved to reclaim her tea.]

Is there anything you need me to do?

[He'd gone along with her temporary break. There was no point in arguing any further about things. Right then, all she could do was play the role of Supportive Friend as best as she could.]

[ She'll get a faintly depreciated smile in return, though it's not because of her. ]

There's nothing you can do.

[It wasn't Jack's fault, but she felt a small pang of sadness when he told her that. Feeling utterly useless, she simply lowered her gaze and nodded in understanding.]

[There was one last thing, though. It wasn't much, but with things still awkward between them, and Jack still in such an obvious funk over yet another loss...it was the only thing she could offer him besides her company and a free dinner:[

When you come back...do you think...you could show me what you've written? In the book.

[She could only hope he wouldn't get mad for her intruding on something he might have considered private. Still, she had to offer. Truth be told, she really was curious.]

You don't have to if you want to. I was just thinking...you've worked so hard on it, somebody else should see it. Remember with you.

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