[Yes, yes, there's the obvious—and then there's this? The slight satisfaction that comes with watching Lorenz reach up to pat his hair, because as stupid a scheme as it was, it was still a scheme... and it worked. Aha. Normal Lorenz would have probably, like, brushed her aside before striding into his bedroom; this Lorenz, however, did not, and that's all the confirmation she needs. Gotcha, bitch.]
It is, [she easily agrees, propping her chin in her hand as she once again leans over the back of the couch.] But you thought it might not be. What were you up to last night...
[Like, she knows. Anyone with half a brain would know, but she wants him to say it.]
[Get off his couch, schemer. He's putting up No Hildas Allowed signs ASAP. Hildas do not interact. He drops his hand with a huff, indignant, and looks over at... the kitchen. Anything but Hilda!!]
Nothing— [Nothing-that-concerns-you, specifically, but that's as good as saying it directly. He waves a hand, like he's totally casual and dismissing this. Casually.] If you must know, I had some tea.
[This is not untrue, so let him have this. Tea, Hilda.]
[This is so endearing? Has Hilda ever been more endeared in her life? When it comes to Lorenz, the answer is probably no... and thus her small, knowing smile only widens as she hums. Tea! "Some" tea.]
A lot of tea. You were gone all night...
[Implying that Hilda was, in fact, in his apartment all night, but details.]
Well, if you're not full from drinking all that tea, you should go to brunch with me! You can tell me about your favorite blends. [Ahem. But as she looks down at her watch, pretending to Think:] Or I could call someone else, if you're too tired?
[Does she need to say the name of the person they both know she'll call? 😇😇😇]
[Put that smile away, missy. Lorenz gives her a Look, still frowning, and he is so ready to turn down brunch and go lock himself in his room for at least twelve hours until she threatens him with phone calls? That is a threat. He grimaces, looking down and putting a hand over his face. No.....]
No, no. No, we are not having this conversation. You will stay right where you are and sit quietly. [do NOT touch that phone!] I am going to... change. Then we may see about brunch.
[So there, she will get her hush meal. It's obviously the lesser of, hmm, many evils, but she has to agree to behave while he goes and puts on a shirt that isn't a day old. He raises an eyebrow and waits for this confirmation. Ahem.]
[What's a teeny tiny threat between friends? And he just looks so cute like this!]
Of course! I'm sure you've been looking forward to changing all morning. Wearing the same clothes for so long is so unlike you.
[Just to let him know that, yes, she did notice that repeat outfit—and then she's sinking down into the cushions, the only visible part of her being the hand she airily waves above the back of the couch. There, there. She'll stop watching that face like a hawk, so go clean yourself up, Lorenz.]
[He is already immaculate, hush. He gives her another look for pointing it out- criminal- but finally retreats to the peace of his own room to get re-dressed and fuss over his hair yet again this morning. He doesn't even want brunch, he thinks irritably, as he frowns at the mirror for a good thirty seconds.
No, that's a lie. He wants brunch. He will be quick because he wants brunch now, not because she's dropping hints like they're going out of style. When he reemerges from his room he comes over to lean over the back of the couch and look at her lazy self. Hey......]
Shall we?
[Let's go, he's been shamed enough.]
Are you going to tell me what you were doing in my apartment all night, by the way?
[Good thing Hilda popped back into her apartment to shower after determining that Lorenz was out and about! Only to, you know. Come right back to crash on his couch, as is tradition. She was worried about him, okay... concerned for his well-being...
...Anyway. She's contemplating her nails when Lorenz peeks over the couch, but she lowers her hand to offer the person peering down at her another bright smile.]
Sleeping? What else would I be doing?
[She did not rearrange a very small Something (re: the tea in his kitchen cabinets) while she was waiting for him to return! Nope! So just let her hop right off the couch, stretching both arms above her head as she makes a beeline for the door.]
[Know that he very nearly tells her she better not have any tea dates in his apartment! but thinks better of it at the last second. No, that is too close to admitting his myriad sins. No. Brunch is the only thing happening now.
He follows her to the door, casually considering changing his locks? But he won't, and even he knows this, so that's a non-starter.]
Please. You know I'm referring to the fact that you have your own apartment just next door.
[He will even gesture at it as they head out into the hall, for petty emphasis. Time to argue about this in the elevator...]
Now, if there were some problem with yours that necessitated this, that would be another story. But I think I should have heard about it before now.
[That is indeed her apartment door, Lorenz—and she breezes right past it, hurrying to the elevator to smack that button. It's the little things in life, you know? All of this new technology is wild, but as she has nowhere to go while they wait for the fuckin' elevator... ah, well.]
There's nothing wrong with my apartment, buuut...
[She draws that short word out, pouting as she does so—but there's that telltale ding of the elevator reaching their floor, so let her step right into the darn thing as soon as the doors open. Hmm, hmm, hmm.]
Yours is just... better, [she admits with a shrug, once again reaching out to smack the button before Lorenz can.] You've put so much thought into it! The colors, the furniture—I can never make up my mind, but you have excellent taste.
[And the couch is very comfortable, The End, now she can go back to looking Chipper as they make their way to the ground floor.]
[She can't praise his top quality design sense to get out of trouble...!! It helps, but he's still folding his arms and giving her a sideways Look as they stand here in this elevator.]
Yes, it is a prime example of good taste. I know. I seem to recall someone being impatient on how much time it took me to settle on the colors...
[You know, the minutely different shades of purple. Maybe he'll do a complete overhaul one day and change it all to even more shades of purple.
But first: ding, time to walk to brunch. He gestures for her to go ahead.]
Just honor my one request, effective immediately: let me know in the future.
[Oh, forget interior decorating. Complimenting his amazing taste did what she needed it to do, more or less—and thus she hops right out of the elevator after offering him a, like, half-curtsy. Nobles™.]
Of course, [she easily acquiesces, and that's probably a bad sign.] I'll do my best to stay awake long enough to ask. I just get so tired...
[Because she's a delicate maiden, woe is her, she's probably-definitely going to need a nap after leading the way to their favorite brunch spot. At least she's setting a peppy pace.]
But how will I tell you if you're gone? I mean, if I accidentally fall asleep again, but then wake back up... [Hmm, hmm, hmm.] I wouldn't want to interrupt anything, but when I couldn't find you this morning, I was worried!
[Is that a compliment, or a dig? Either way, it works for her. Prepare for twenty texts in a row, each one consisting of one (1) winky-face emoji...
..Maybe. Possibly. Hilda isn't, like, Lorenz's mother; she's well aware that he can handle himself, but as she looks up at him—]
A little, [she honestly admits, allowing her mask to drop just a bit.] We've been here for so long, I know, but...
[But they come from a war-torn land where Bad Shit just happens, etc etc, so surely Hilda doesn't need to say it; she's free to go back to her carefree sort of self, swinging her arms a bit as she picks right back up with:]
But you're here now! And you met someone. I'm glad.
[Aw, Hilda. It's probably true that he could have been lost somewhere with Bad Shit happening, just logically, but he'll appreciate her moment of concern for what it is instead of admitting that he still only has about 10% of an idea of what's going on in this place. Compromise!
Or: aw, Hilda!! He's touched, which is why he doesn't immediately turn around and go back into the apartment building when she brings up his sinful existence again. This is going to give him a permanent twitch.]
That's... [hildaaaa] a highly inappropriate conversation for brunch.
[Or ever, if he has any say in it, but fine--] Believe me when I say you need not make it into a whole production.
[Hey, she was honest; that means he needs to be honest, in turn, or... something. That's friendship! That's what he's signed up for, whether he likes it or not! And something, something, Lorenz's happiness is as important to her as the happiness of any of their fellow Deer, so here she is. Invested in Lorenz's love life, because he's picky and she knows it.]
I won't! It's not like I want to know everything.
[There are Deets, Lorenz, and then there is TMI. She is only interested in the former, hence the, mmm, innocent(-ish) look she shoots him. Loreeeeeeeeeenz...]
But I do want to know about your tea date. Tell me about them?
[He rolls his eyes but in a good-natured way, for sure. She's nosy and he treasures her, so she can have the bare minimum amount of Deets he can get away with before he evaporates in shame on the spot.
Probably, they have different thresholds for Deets Shame. It's fine.]
Well... he is an artist. Quite skilled. I learned a great deal about the application of artistic works to improve the quality of one's... soul. Possibly.
[You know, it was a little unclear; there might have been magic? It was pretentious enough for Lorenz (tm).]
[How far away is their favorite brunch spot, anyway? Probably not too far, which is as big a draw as its bottomless mimosa special—but they still have just enough time for Hilda to wonder why Lorenz is the way that he is. Only Lorenz would learn something like that during... well, something like that. Whew.
But it is her job as Best Friend to support him! Always, which is why she claps her hands together excitedly.]
Ooh, an artist. How perfect for you!
[Because Lorenz is a connoisseur of the fine arts, etc, etc—but then there is the briefest of pauses. A sign, perhaps, of what is to come, because as Hilda turns to better face him:]
So... is he a work of art? [she asks, the perfect picture of innocence.] Did he "improve the quality" of...
[Hmm, yes, she will let that sentence trail right off. A simple kindness.]
[He has priorities? Can a man not learn about art and pretentious magic whenever he pleases? When will he be able to drink too many mimosas in peace...
In any case: he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, if only because he anticipated these questions and she still found a way to make them more ridiculous. Hilda, good gracious.]
Truly, I am a changed man. [Flatly; but actually, you know,] Hilda. You know my standards are as exacting as they are lofty.
[Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, settle for an uggo? He would sooner perish.]
[If she can't go giggle with someone about this—because she would never—then this is the price Lorenz must pay! Hilda having her fun right here, right now, which honestly isn't as bad as it could be. She is... holding back, in her way. Kind of.
...Anyway, accept this friendly arm bump.]
Oh, I know—but I had to make sure! You deserve the best.
[That's sincere, really; like, Lorenz is a good-looking guy and she'll fight anyone who says otherwise, but rule one of Brunch Club: don't smash ugly guys? Duh?]
Aren't you going to describe him?
[Because she is, of course, super fuckin' curious.]
[Don't smash ugly guys is indeed in the sacred brunch texts, good call. But oh, he must actually provide a description... Let's see.]
In a word... [and as he is Lorenz, he could come up with a dozen on command, but he also has some dignity left on this brunch walk, so,] delicate. Small, although not as small as you.
[Everyone is small to Lorenz, etc etc, but still. He could be more poetic about this, as is Lorenz Tradition, but heaven forbid he accidentally say something kinda horny? He would honestly never recover.]
Dark eyes, dark hair, far too elaborate if I'm being quite honest. Intricate. But fitting.
[Oh damn, he's actually describing his date—aaaaaaand that is? Not quite what she expected to hear? Small and delicate, that is, because she remembers Lorenz's, mmm, great respect for Holst (ew)... but while she does give him a curious sort of look, she manages to keep herself from saying something silly. Everyone has different preferences, etc, and it isn't as though she's given a great deal of thought to Lorenz's...
But hmm, hmm, hmm.]
Fitting, [she repeats, drawing the word right out.] It does sound very... artistic.
[Artists should look interesting, it is Known... anyway, follow her across the street to their brunch spot as she hums.]
So he's good-looking! And he sounds interesting—but do you like him? [Not in the, like, high school kind of way? It's more like, hmm—] Will you see him again?
[God yes he needs to be in a chair and ordering six mimosas ASAP, let's do this. He is pointedly not answering any more questions until they are seated and mimosas are ordered and he has a menu to look at, as if they don't already have a Usual for brunch.
Anyway, he will be generous enough to speak up before she feels the need to ask again, so shh,]
Perhaps.
[the end, no-]
I would not be opposed. [That's the end, he's tapped out, so now it's Hilda's turn:] Now then, I barely saw you at the ball.
[Hilda has done enough digging... for the time being. As they step into this cute little café, she's too busy giving the host a polite smile to ask any more questions—and whether it's the power of the combined charm or the simple fact that they've been here so many times over the past, like, three weeks, they're quickly led to a nice, sunny table by the window. Their Spot™.]
Well, of course, [she says, as airily as ever as she drops into her chair.] You were so popular! I didn't want to chase anyone away...
[Couldn't cramp ur style, sir, but as she picks up the menu she definitely doesn't need to see (because the server is already prepping their mimosas before coming to the table, duh):]
I had fun! Especially with Constance. Did you see her cute ears?
[Hilda, he is always popular, this is obvious... No one has to remember high school, we live only in the popular future (tm) now. Or: he raises an eyebrow at her over his menu. Gurl.]
I did. I do hope she managed to enjoy herself, despite the circumstances.
[Fussy nobles that hate Cordis traits club: Lorenz and Constance, co-presidents. Sure, he trusts that Hilda dutifully supported their junior honorary Deer in... her own way, but still! So he's distracted by Coco News, yes, immediately.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It is, [she easily agrees, propping her chin in her hand as she once again leans over the back of the couch.] But you thought it might not be. What were you up to last night...
[Like, she knows. Anyone with half a brain would know, but she wants him to say it.]
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Nothing— [Nothing-that-concerns-you, specifically, but that's as good as saying it directly. He waves a hand, like he's totally casual and dismissing this. Casually.] If you must know, I had some tea.
[This is not untrue, so let him have this. Tea, Hilda.]
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A lot of tea. You were gone all night...
[Implying that Hilda was, in fact, in his apartment all night, but details.]
Well, if you're not full from drinking all that tea, you should go to brunch with me! You can tell me about your favorite blends. [Ahem. But as she looks down at her watch, pretending to Think:] Or I could call someone else, if you're too tired?
[Does she need to say the name of the person they both know she'll call? 😇😇😇]
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No, no. No, we are not having this conversation. You will stay right where you are and sit quietly. [do NOT touch that phone!] I am going to... change. Then we may see about brunch.
[So there, she will get her hush meal. It's obviously the lesser of, hmm, many evils, but she has to agree to behave while he goes and puts on a shirt that isn't a day old. He raises an eyebrow and waits for this confirmation. Ahem.]
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Of course! I'm sure you've been looking forward to changing all morning. Wearing the same clothes for so long is so unlike you.
[Just to let him know that, yes, she did notice that repeat outfit—and then she's sinking down into the cushions, the only visible part of her being the hand she airily waves above the back of the couch. There, there. She'll stop watching that face like a hawk, so go clean yourself up, Lorenz.]
But I'm very hungry...
[Hint, hint.]
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No, that's a lie. He wants brunch. He will be quick because he wants brunch now, not because she's dropping hints like they're going out of style. When he reemerges from his room he comes over to lean over the back of the couch and look at her lazy self. Hey......]
Shall we?
[Let's go, he's been shamed enough.]
Are you going to tell me what you were doing in my apartment all night, by the way?
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...Anyway. She's contemplating her nails when Lorenz peeks over the couch, but she lowers her hand to offer the person peering down at her another bright smile.]
Sleeping? What else would I be doing?
[She did not rearrange a very small Something (re: the tea in his kitchen cabinets) while she was waiting for him to return! Nope! So just let her hop right off the couch, stretching both arms above her head as she makes a beeline for the door.]
I didn't have an exciting... tea date.
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He follows her to the door, casually considering changing his locks? But he won't, and even he knows this, so that's a non-starter.]
Please. You know I'm referring to the fact that you have your own apartment just next door.
[He will even gesture at it as they head out into the hall, for petty emphasis. Time to argue about this in the elevator...]
Now, if there were some problem with yours that necessitated this, that would be another story. But I think I should have heard about it before now.
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There's nothing wrong with my apartment, buuut...
[She draws that short word out, pouting as she does so—but there's that telltale ding of the elevator reaching their floor, so let her step right into the darn thing as soon as the doors open. Hmm, hmm, hmm.]
Yours is just... better, [she admits with a shrug, once again reaching out to smack the button before Lorenz can.] You've put so much thought into it! The colors, the furniture—I can never make up my mind, but you have excellent taste.
[And the couch is very comfortable, The End, now she can go back to looking Chipper as they make their way to the ground floor.]
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Yes, it is a prime example of good taste. I know. I seem to recall someone being impatient on how much time it took me to settle on the colors...
[You know, the minutely different shades of purple. Maybe he'll do a complete overhaul one day and change it all to even more shades of purple.
But first: ding, time to walk to brunch. He gestures for her to go ahead.]
Just honor my one request, effective immediately: let me know in the future.
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Of course, [she easily acquiesces, and that's probably a bad sign.] I'll do my best to stay awake long enough to ask. I just get so tired...
[Because she's a delicate maiden, woe is her, she's probably-definitely going to need a nap after leading the way to their favorite brunch spot. At least she's setting a peppy pace.]
But how will I tell you if you're gone? I mean, if I accidentally fall asleep again, but then wake back up... [Hmm, hmm, hmm.] I wouldn't want to interrupt anything, but when I couldn't find you this morning, I was worried!
[Her dear, deer pal...]
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But please, Hilda--]
I daresay you will figure out how to send an unobtrusive message. You are resourceful in that regard.
[In being unobtrusive for profit, he means... and pointedly: please do not call him if it's after 10pm and he's not around, he will die.]
...Were you actually worried? [Could be endearing, could be an eyeroll...]
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..Maybe. Possibly. Hilda isn't, like, Lorenz's mother; she's well aware that he can handle himself, but as she looks up at him—]
A little, [she honestly admits, allowing her mask to drop just a bit.] We've been here for so long, I know, but...
[But they come from a war-torn land where Bad Shit just happens, etc etc, so surely Hilda doesn't need to say it; she's free to go back to her carefree sort of self, swinging her arms a bit as she picks right back up with:]
But you're here now! And you met someone. I'm glad.
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Or: aw, Hilda!! He's touched, which is why he doesn't immediately turn around and go back into the apartment building when she brings up his sinful existence again. This is going to give him a permanent twitch.]
That's... [hildaaaa] a highly inappropriate conversation for brunch.
[Or ever, if he has any say in it, but fine--] Believe me when I say you need not make it into a whole production.
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I won't! It's not like I want to know everything.
[There are Deets, Lorenz, and then there is TMI. She is only interested in the former, hence the, mmm, innocent(-ish) look she shoots him. Loreeeeeeeeeenz...]
But I do want to know about your tea date. Tell me about them?
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Probably, they have different thresholds for Deets Shame. It's fine.]
Well... he is an artist. Quite skilled. I learned a great deal about the application of artistic works to improve the quality of one's... soul. Possibly.
[You know, it was a little unclear; there might have been magic? It was pretentious enough for Lorenz (tm).]
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But it is her job as Best Friend to support him! Always, which is why she claps her hands together excitedly.]
Ooh, an artist. How perfect for you!
[Because Lorenz is a connoisseur of the fine arts, etc, etc—but then there is the briefest of pauses. A sign, perhaps, of what is to come, because as Hilda turns to better face him:]
So... is he a work of art? [she asks, the perfect picture of innocence.] Did he "improve the quality" of...
[Hmm, yes, she will let that sentence trail right off. A simple kindness.]
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In any case: he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, if only because he anticipated these questions and she still found a way to make them more ridiculous. Hilda, good gracious.]
Truly, I am a changed man. [Flatly; but actually, you know,] Hilda. You know my standards are as exacting as they are lofty.
[Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, settle for an uggo? He would sooner perish.]
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...Anyway, accept this friendly arm bump.]
Oh, I know—but I had to make sure! You deserve the best.
[That's sincere, really; like, Lorenz is a good-looking guy and she'll fight anyone who says otherwise, but rule one of Brunch Club: don't smash ugly guys? Duh?]
Aren't you going to describe him?
[Because she is, of course, super fuckin' curious.]
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In a word... [and as he is Lorenz, he could come up with a dozen on command, but he also has some dignity left on this brunch walk, so,] delicate. Small, although not as small as you.
[Everyone is small to Lorenz, etc etc, but still. He could be more poetic about this, as is Lorenz Tradition, but heaven forbid he accidentally say something kinda horny? He would honestly never recover.]
Dark eyes, dark hair, far too elaborate if I'm being quite honest. Intricate. But fitting.
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But hmm, hmm, hmm.]
Fitting, [she repeats, drawing the word right out.] It does sound very... artistic.
[Artists should look interesting, it is Known... anyway, follow her across the street to their brunch spot as she hums.]
So he's good-looking! And he sounds interesting—but do you like him? [Not in the, like, high school kind of way? It's more like, hmm—] Will you see him again?
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Anyway, he will be generous enough to speak up before she feels the need to ask again, so shh,]
Perhaps.
[the end, no-]
I would not be opposed. [That's the end, he's tapped out, so now it's Hilda's turn:] Now then, I barely saw you at the ball.
[How many suckers got fleeced, Hilda? How many??]
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Well, of course, [she says, as airily as ever as she drops into her chair.] You were so popular! I didn't want to chase anyone away...
[Couldn't cramp ur style, sir, but as she picks up the menu she definitely doesn't need to see (because the server is already prepping their mimosas before coming to the table, duh):]
I had fun! Especially with Constance. Did you see her cute ears?
[Swerve.]
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I did. I do hope she managed to enjoy herself, despite the circumstances.
[Fussy nobles that hate Cordis traits club: Lorenz and Constance, co-presidents. Sure, he trusts that Hilda dutifully supported their junior honorary Deer in... her own way, but still! So he's distracted by Coco News, yes, immediately.]
What did the two of you get up to?