No messes in the mess hall

It is nearly evening. The setting sun streams its hazy, rosy hues through the hall's windows, painting the stone floor and wooden tables with a weary warmth. For it is autumn. The air has a nip to it that no self-respecting summer day would ever have, and the trees outside have turned to a sea of scarlet--where they are not already reduced to barren branches.

Robert is here, but as is often the case, late. The majority of Scale members have already eaten and gone. But, freshly-washed, his dark locks still damp and the stench of the sewer freshly scrubbed from his hide, he is just now settling in for his own meal. In one hand is a tray containing some sort of rice with curry and vegetables. In the other is a book. There is the briefest clink of cutlery as he takes a seat at the most distant window. It affords both light, and a view, but little in the way of company. Not that there's much company left.

Kirara stands to one side of the room, back and shoulders leaned to rest against the wall behind her as her arms settle in a comfortable fold across the fair skin of her stomach. Her blue eyes show distant as she gazes across the hall, attention rested toward one of the slender windows burned with an amber from the setting sun. She seems almost unaware of the movement around her, the dwindling number of fellow alliance members lost on her as she stands in quiet concentration.

It's after a long moment of stillness that when she blinks her eyes, some sense of awareness seems to return to them. The flicker of attention to spark to life behind her gaze sees her attention shift, some surprise filtering onto her expression as she notes just how empty the room has gotten in the midst of her wondering. A blink of her lashes and her eyes find themselves locked toward a familiar face, a smile sneaking itself to her lips as Robert claims a seat near the window. With a tilt of her head, she steps herself nearer to him, a hand lift in friendly greeting as the curl of her lips softens with welcome. "Are you only getting to dinner just now?" she wonders in a friendly tone, steps slowing to a halt as she nears his table.

There is a moment of confusion, the disorientation of one whose thoughts were entirely elsewhere. Robert's eyes lift, lost, uncomprehending, bewildered. Tension flickers.

And then it is gone. Robert is now here, in -every- sense of the word. While he does not offer a return wave, his smile is welcoming enough, tinted as it is with a frank, slightly self-deprecating humor. "You know how these things are," he answers, tones a bit rougher than usual, as though they were out of use. "One thing leads to another, and then you realize you're covered in sawdust, you haven't done half the things you'd intended, and dinner ends in an hour. And so, here we are." So saying, Robert brushes his book to the side. "Please, join me if you wish."

Oh right. This isn't particularly good manners, is it. With an effort Robert attempts to rise to his feet. It is not a graceful movement, and the legs of his chair tangle with those of the next chair over. Nonetheless, he does well to straighten his clothing as best he can, and manages a bow that is -almost- credible. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I know how it goes," Kirara affirms with a nod, the smile drawn at her lips easing a measure for her familiarity with his situation. It seems as soon as the thread of tension disappears, the woman is drawing herself in nearer, hands folding themselves at her back as she leans in a little ways in promise of her interest. The humor to tease through her voice is faint, though it's not too hard to catch.

"Thank you. I think I will," she answers gentle toward the invitation. With that, she's sliding in across from him, failing to grab a meal for herself. She doesn't chance a gaze toward what book he may have been reading.

"I tried to," she admits, eyes turning down the lingering figures trying to fit a late dinner into their day. Arms resting atop the table, her hands skate themselves slowly to rest one atop the other, eyes still fixed elsewhere as she mulls over her reply. "I'm afraid I didn't have much luck."

Despite the claim, the words are spoken with some amusement, gaze pinched with humor as she finds her attention back toward Robert. "I figure I'll try again tomorrow," she reasons. "It looks like you've been keeping yourself busy."

Whatever it is that may have been keeping Robert busy is apparently no longer anywhere close to his current thoughts. "I'd offer to go halvsies," he suggests, retaking his seat and drawing his tray towards himself--not at all in the manner of a fellow inclined to share his dinner. "But I'm afraid I simply do not understand."

There's a moment--a rather -rude- moment--in which his gaze fixates upon her middle. His eyes narrow, relax, then flick upwards once more to meet her own gaze. "Food's over there." A jerk of his head. "You do not seem incapacitated. Nor do you seem to be in need of a diet. So." He leans forward, one arm folding over the other. "What's wrong?"

Kirara can't suppress the growing smile at her lips. His comment toward her apparent good health sees her dipping her head in an effort to disguise the flash of teeth that seem determined to peek through her smile, a hand lifting to mask her grin behind her fingers as she holds back a laugh. "Now, that's not how it goes --" she answers, only having scarcely collected herself as she lets her hand drop a little ways. Her fingers relax, smile still pulled bright across her features as her gaze pinches with unsounded laughter. "I was supposed to be checking on *you*."

Finally, the hand falls to find its partner again, fingers curling subtle around its shape. "It's nerves," she reveals easily, shoulders hiking themselves upward a touch as she shakes out her hair a little, apparently working to shake off her trepidation. "That trip today was something else," she muses, brows softening over her eyes as her smile relaxes a measure. "I've been curious how everyone else is taking it."

SpritesHero's eyebrow lifts in question. "Ah ah ah," he clucks, shaking his head in disapproval. "First things first, ma'am. We take care of ourselves before we take care of others, yes?" The other eyebrow slides upwards to join its twin. "We can discuss great plots later. I'll even walk with you." Manners are again forgotten, for he lifts his fork easily between two fingers, waggling it expressively at her in a manner that would no doubt have whatever etiquette mentors he's ever had groaning. "But. I am -not- going to be carrying you to the infirmary because you've passed out."

So saying he plunks his hands on the table, pushing himself to his feet and neatly shoving his chair out of the way with a backward scoot of his foot. "Come along, then. Up and at 'em, miss."

Kirara , for a moment, seems taken aback by the unexpected chiding. Her brows lift to perch themselves high above the round of her eyes, a questioning curl at the corner of her mouth rendering her smile crooked and strange as she stares toward the man like a (rein)deer caught in the headlights. The stiffening of her shoulders might be difficult to catch, but it's there, if only for a moment as she's quick to laugh it off.

"Aaah, passed out?" she complains toward the accusation, her grin forced toward an unconvincing pout. The humor glittering in her eyes makes her true feelings all too obvious. "Don't you think you're being a little unfair?"

Despite her playful reasoning, she too is lifting herself to her feet, a hand brushing itself across the fabric of her skirt to see it resting loose over her legs. "Where are we going to go?" There's some hint of anticipation that trickles into her voice, her amusement not faltering for a second.

"No, I -don't- think I'm being a little unfair," Robert answers, the brief amusement about his lips and the crinkling at the edges of his eyes--or to be more specific, the way in which they -don't- echo with laughter--speaking to a deeper suspicion that he's having the mickey taken out of him. And indeed there's a brief chill in his manner, something...perhaps almost disconcerting in the way his eyes rapidly scan over her form. Then freeze.

"But please tell me why you think I am being unfair?" Again the eyebrows arch as he approaches, step by deliberate step, drawing ever closer. Conceivably almost too close. His lips move, almost soundlessly.

Kirara lows her chin faintly as he argues his position, and at first, her smile holds strong at her lips. When her humor is greeted with something colder though, the smile eases, a quiet question reflecting from the search of her stare as she searches the rapid flicker of his gaze. She makes no move to help close the distance as he approaches, neither does she edge herself back from the deliberate nature of his steps. A hand lifts to pose itself thoughtful at her chest, and as his lips move in a whisper, she holds her curious gaze toward his own, some ounce of concern surfacing in her eyes.

The words offered to her put her smile at ease, the subtle peaks of her shoulders falling easily. "I did say I'd tried, didn't I?" she offers softly, assurance threaded in her tone. "I really am alright. It just stirred up old memories." This time when her gaze narrows, it's with focus. "I don't want to get too attached to a place like this."

Well. That just raises more questions, doesn't it. Not that this is the time to be asking those questions. His gaze meets her's, searching, before looking away and steps back one pace, then two. There's a grimace, and his hands lift to cover his mouth for a moment as he thinks, eyes darting once towards the food counter (which looks like it is already about to start closing), then back to Kirara. He inhales sharply, draws his hands backwards, first over his eyes then his hair to set it roguishly, if not crazily on end. He clearly doesn't like doing what he's about to do.

But he does it anyhow. "Right, I don't see any reasonable alternatives," he states at length, his tones clipped and business-like. "Why don't you go ahead and point at what you want. Then I'll either grab it, or accompany you. But you decide which."

Kirara seems to lose some portion of the strength in her smile as the man's face twists with a grimace, the mild narrow of her eyes easing as her hand keeps to its place hovered near her chest. She gives him time to go through the motions, drawing in a breath, dragging his hand over his face, before tilting her head at the reply she's offered.

"No," she soothes, and this time it's her closing the distance. Carefully, slowly, with delicate steps that seem ready to halt at the first sign of flight from the man across from her. "You misunderstand," she clarifies.

Granted she's been allowed near to him, she lifts a hand in hopes of seeing it rest along the side of his arm. "I got myself a plate. I just wasn't able to finish it," she explains, head shaking softly as her lips ease to an apologetic smile. "In the morning, I'm sure, I'll be able to get something down. For now I'm just focusing on what I can do."

There is a very, very long silence, during which Robert doesn't move whatsoever. Warring emotions flare and die upon his features: suspicion, concern, guilt and shame. Occasionally even a flash of unvoiced laughter. At length he speaks, barely avoiding a stammer. "I don't. I. But." he manages, if rather incoherently. His eyes dart towards the serving counter, then back to his own supper. Finally he settles for lifting his hand to give her own a gentle pat. Perhaps it is meant to be reassuring. It isn't, instead being more on the awkward side.

"Right!" he continues, evidently having decided to just forge on ahead. Because what else can one do? "Stepped in that one, didn't I. Shall we return and, say, do this properly?" His eyes drops to where their hands overlap, contemplating the spot before lifting once more. "Robert. At your service. Though I suspect at this point I'd be un-hireable."

Kirara stands quiet and still, reassuring smile never leaving her lips. She seems to be at ease in the silence, keeping her hand to his arm in attempt to help him find his feet as he seems to tumble through a myriad of emotions. When he claims to understand, she tilts her head further, eyes seeking his own to try and better comfort him. Awkward as the pat might be, it's all it takes to see a hint of gratitude slipping into her smile.

She giggles softly as he finds the strength to push on, her head shaking softly as he puts himself down. Her fingers curl to give his arm a gentle squeeze before she finally withdraws her touch. "You're just fine," she promises, hand falling to rest easy at her side. "Kiku," the woman introduces in turn, shoulders dipping themselves forward lightly as she offers him a mock bow. They're too close for anything more polite. "But Kirara is fine, if you find yourself forgetting."

Her smile shows genuine as she pulls her eyes back toward the table, sandals clicking softly to the floor below as she takes a step back to open the way for him. "I think you're the first 'Robert' I've met," she reflects, moving the conversation right along as she turns the warmth of her smile back toward the man. "Were you born here in Japan?"

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Kiku." Robert indicates the table with a sweep of his arm--a clear invitation to return--before walking all the way around to the other side. Only once she sits does he draw his own chair closer, giving his clothing a tug to straighten it before installing himself, as before, at the table.

"And no ma'am, I was from the good old U S of A," he answers, affecting a casual lean, as suits his country of origin. Standards -must- be upheld, after all. "Came here for a bit before...well." His gaze lifts, skating over the hall, as though to indicate the metaphorical entirety of their new world. Again a faint grimace. "Well, I suppose it's been two years now, hasn't it." Beat. "You're local, then?" he wonders. One eyebrow slide upwards. "Temple, perhaps?"

The draw of Robert's arm is all it takes to see her on the move. The corners of her smile peak upwards faintly as she bows her head in a little nod, and with the brief show of gratitude, she's stepping forward to reclaim her seat. Her hand sweeps beneath her skirt to tuck it under her legs as she settles back into her chair.The tension hidden in her muscles seems to have dissolved completely as she rests comfortably against the chair's back, her hands resting under the table this time, fingers folded neatly atop her lap..

She nods her head in understanding with his explanation, brows worried gentle over her gaze as he pauses in the midst of his reply. The warmth of her blue eyes search his own softly as he pushes to overcome the weight of their current reality, but as the question is turned to her, her concern fades with ease.

Her hand flicks upward in a practiced motion, a pair of fingers flicking out from her gentle fist to flash into the trademarked symbol of peace. "Tokyo," she answers, a proud little smile at her lips. "But I guess it almost looks that way, doesn't it?" The draw of her smile sees the white of her teeth peeking from her lips again, though she's less bashful about it this time. "I wanted to look like a spirit from a fairy tale," she recalls, glancing down at herself. She twists her arm gently in her inspection, inspecting the bangles decorating her wrist. "What do you think?"

SpritesHero bites back a smile. "I'd always thought spirits from fairy tales to be rather terrifying indeed," he teases, if gently. His head tilts first to one side, then the other in consideration. "But in all seriousness, I think you've done very well indeed. It's all very..." A pause. The phrase is having difficulty coming to mind. It truly is a struggle, and he pushes away from the table more fully, hand coming to his chin.

"Spiritual," he finishes at length, lamely. An eyebrow slides upwards. "Ethereal? No, that's not it either. It's like half of you will be here forever, and the other half will disappear like a cloud before a puff of wind. Bold colors, but..." Another tilt of his head. "I'm really not quite sure how to put it, precisely. Don't suppose you'd care to help a fellow, here?" Anything about Tokyo is pushed off until later.

Kirara can't help herself. The word 'terrifying' was the last thing she'd expected to hear, and suddenly, her smile brightens with a laugh. The sound rings cheerful against the quiet to have settled over the dining hall, a hand lifted meekly to try and hide her grin. "Oh, no..." she giggles out softly, having managed to tame down her laughter. Her shoulders drop, if only for dramatic effect, brows furrowed in playful hurt over her eyes. She doesn't seem to be truly offended.

"Magical," is the word she decides upon, gaze dropping back down toward herself again as she considers. "When I think of a kind spirit that wants to help people, it makes me feel safe. You don't have to worry, because a spirit is much more powerful and understanding than a human could ever be. They have watched for generations. Learning... understanding..." Her smile relaxes as she reasons on the matter, her hand finding itself back to her lap. "That was the kind of impression I was looking for."

Robert simply sits there, amused, head cocked ever so slightly to the side as he allows the cheer of her laughing voice to flood through the hall. After all, there is--perhaps--something about it that uplifts the weary spirit of the others.

"Well then," Robert intones from his laid-back position in his chair, clapping his hands down upon its armrests. "I would say that you have accomplished your goal remarkably. I do believe you fairly radiate kindness." He allows the moment's warmth to linger, steadily fading away of its own accord, in time with the smile on his face.

When he continues, though, he is more serious. "But -you- are not a spirit," he state, quietly now. "You are human. And I have to wonder what it means for you, if you endeavor to act the spirit that is more powerful and understanding than any human...ever could be?"

"Thank you." The words sound gentle and meek as she bows her head toward the compliment, a contented smile resting gently at her lips. While his shift in tone does see the corners of her smile ease a touch, it fails to see it fall from her expression. Its curl rests easily in place, appreciation reflecting in her eyes as the pale lines of her brows soften a measure, understanding.

"I'm not," she agrees, offering no argument to his realistic approach. "When I first signed in, I was under the impression that this was a place of freedom," the woman recalls, her gaze drifting off to search the darkness to have fallen over the world on the other side of the windowpane. "It was a place where you could pursue any kind of dream, and take on any face that made you feel happy, or safe. It's that kind spirit that brings me that kind of comfort. Even if it is a little childish, to some," she admits, the edges of her smile hinting upward shyly as she meets Robert's gaze once more. "Did you put much thought into it when you first logged in?"

"Not childish," Robert murmurs with a shake of his head and a smile. His forward-lean relaxes, then. Almost imperceptibly. Almost. "Not at all childish, just potentially too much for a person to bear. An admirable aspiration, but at what cost?" The smile brightens, softens, then skitters away, and his gaze shifts towards the night outside, presenting her with his profile. Older. A bit more tired, with a touch of grey about the temples.

"As for me? Not much thought at all," he admits, though the lightness of his tones similarly lightening his expression--if only a touch. It's a mark of someone who prefers not to dwell on things...but does. "Memories, that's all," he continues. "Memories of a game I once played back home, with." Beat. "Sometimes a room just seems empty." Another pause. And then a grin as he lifts his hand to teasingly knock his finger against his username (which hovers just above his head). "Clearly not too much thought, eh? It's a bit like a mistakenly ordered tattoo."

"I can see that," Kirara agrees with a nod, well enough familiar with the trouble of putting too much responsibility on a single person. The warmth of her smile encourages his own as it appears, though even as his seems to fade, her own is not so quick to leave.

"It was never meant to be permanent," the woman reminds at the mention of a tattoo, assurance rendering her voice soft. "I'm guessing your appearance is something similar to how you look in the real world?" she wonders, another tilt of her head signalling her curiosity as she mulls the possibility over. "It's a lucky thing you have some experience," she teases, her smile thinning faintly as she withholds another laugh. "I think the only video game I ever played was DDR. I was always more the karaoke type."

"Similar enough," Robert acknowledges, though he does tap first at the more pointed parts of his ears, followed by the faintest flutter of his pitch-black wings. "Well, that and a bit..." He trails off, tapping his fingers first at the place between his eyebrows, then at the corners of his eyes. There are no wrinkles there, so presumably he indicates where they would have been. "ETO apparently decided I needed botox," he opines, a throaty chuckle rumbling in his chest before melting into a laughing sigh.

"In truth, I wasted my experience. Wanted out, and went for every shortcut within reach. Surprise surprise, it did not work. And so I am back to basics, where I really should have started. Nearly from square one. But you? But what of you?" There's an elevation of his eyebrow, and yet another considering look. "How close are your aspirations to reality?" Beat. "Begging your pardon, but I'm not sure I can picture wise fairy-tale spirits doing karaoke or playing DDR."

Kirara nods a few times as he points to the elven points of his ears, the flutter of his wings granting further strength to her smile. The mention of botox nearly earns him another laugh, but the woman seems determined to tame it down to a lilting chuckle. The hitch of her shoulders threatens that her hand might draw up once again to hide her smile, but she decides to let it show, this time. Her blue eyes crease with amusement, laughter bright within her gaze. "You seem to be coping with your loss well," she offers, some condolence found in the playful furrow of her brows.

"Black hair," she reflects, her smile resting soft as she lifts a hand. Her fingers curl around a lock of silvery hair, her gaze trailing toward their touch as she thinks back. "Brown eyes. Quite a bit shorter," she recalls, her gaze fond as she thinks back. "To be honest, it was nice not standing out. Maybe that's why I did something so wild. To try something new, here. It's funny to think about, but I think I had more fun living my life than this -" she wonders, glancing over the emptied room. "Living a game."

"I spent my time waiting. I thought by now, doctors, or programmers, someone would have been able to get us out. But I don't think it was necessarily a waste. I think I learned something." Her lashes fall in a thoughtful blink over her eyes before she returns her sunny blue eyes toward Robert once again. "It's how I got to where I am now. And really... I think I'm moving in the right direction."

"I don't know about fun," Robert reflects, pensive, his own brown eyes more of a nondescript mud to the sunny blue of her own, for all the humor that lurks in their depths. "Fun, enjoyment, thrill, whatever you call it. I expect that can be had just about anywhere. But perhaps the knowledge that it is not real takes some of the fun out of it? Is skydiving still fun if there is no risk? Perhaps the meaning disappears." His hand waves, as though to shoo the thought away to whatever corner it came from.

He reorients, mentally, on the matter at hand. "I suspect you're right," he acknowledges. "I don't think anyone's going to be getting us out, other than ourselves. Not at this point. I expect it's either...buried, or caught up in legal fights over medical jurisdiction and who is permitted to make decisions for the patient." Truthfully, there is a flicker of uncertainty, but he pushes past it. "And where are you now, Kiku? What is your direction, then?"

"To rescue myself, rather than wait for someone else to come to my rescue." Her eyes soften as her smile eases to rest gentle in its place. What humor danced in her eyes seems to have calmed, though her gaze still manages to retain its warmth, even with the subject at hand. "I'm ready to fight," she clarifies, a decisive chord granting some strength to her tone.

"And I'm glad to see I'm not the only one --" The corners of her eyes crease with quiet appreciation as her gaze pinches a touch, unvoiced gratitude reflected in her eyes as she watches toward the man seated across from her. "Maybe we'll have the chance to see each other face to face on the other side of this challenge, hm?"

"To future meetings on the other side," Robert toasts. Though, lacking a glass of anything, the toast is a mere shadow of what it ought to be. A shadow within a shadow. For his part, his gaze is ever searching, ever roaming. Searching for what? That is not entirely clear, though it lingers longest upon her eyes, the corners of her mouth, and occasionally her eyebrows.

His next words are well-considered. Or at least they come after a fairly long pause, during which his own brow furrows hard down the middle. "Your resolution," he begins at last. "What does it mean, in practical terms, when you say that you are resolved to rescue yourself rather than wait? That you are ready to fight?"

Kirara raises her own invisible glass, fingers curled against the air as she lifts her hand in an imaginary toast. The woman's gaze is a guileless one, no sense of tension to be found in the corners of her smile. For all Robert's searching, it seems there's no signs of forced expressions to be found. She seems at ease, even under his careful inspection.

It's in the lapse in conversation that she starts to turn her eyes sideward, her attention back toward the window as she considers the digital world beneath the artificial dark of the evening sky. She's barely turned to shift her gaze as his voice catches her ear, her brows lifting faintly as she directs her focus back to him. A sure sign of the curiosity sparked in response to his own.

"When I joined Scale Emblem, I had a very different goal in mind," she explains, brows easing themselves to rest gentle above her tranquil stare. "Climbing the tower -" she began, a hand lifting alongside her explanation. Her brows knit faintly as she continued, concern in the furrowing of their lines. "It seemed like the worst thing we could do. If we climbed the tower and the world fell to monsters because of it, we'd have burned our bridges with the game's inhabitants and backed ourselves into a corner. Even now, I'm not fully convinced that conquering the tower will be what it takes to set us free."

The tension in her brows melts as she considers further. "But I was surprised. I heard there were plans to fortify strongholds within the tower, to make it a safe haven. If the tower fails us, we'll at least have a place to shelter while we look for other options to pursue."

"I'm keeping my eyes open," she add, the curl of her smile a bit stronger now. "But I feel much better about pressing the tower, knowing what I do." After a pause, her smile tightens with anxiety, brows locking over her eyes. "...Maybe that's not quite practical terms," she reflects.

"They are practical enough terms," Robert counters, his manner relaxing as mirth flits about the corners of his mouth, though there's never an outright smile. "If you were the manifestation of Scale Emblem as a whole." He holds up a hand, then, as though to forestall any possibility of insult given. "I try not to judge, only to reflect," he clarifies, before continuing.

"And it is indeed good to have an idea of where, precisely, you are going. But I suppose my question is more along the lines of: what are your thoughts on how you intend to get there? What role do you envision yourself playing in..." A hand lifts, to indicate the hall expansively. "...all this?"

Kirara shakes her head softly at the question, apparently not yet decided on that front. The fact doesn't seem to be enough to wash away her smile, though it does see it tamed to something a bit more mild. "I'm figuring that part out, now," she answers calmly, no sense of impatience or distress in her voice. "It's why I wanted to join on the trip, today. I'd like to find ways to contribute. Do more than just... cheer people on."

The faint draw of her brows hints to some exasperation, but it eases away as softly as it arrives as she turns her mind toward her own question. "How long have you been working with the Alliance?"

"On and off, now, a year and a half," Robert answers. But he pays his response no real attention. It's a casual throwaway, nearly automatic, said in the same tones one might use to respond with the date of one's birth. It does not distract him from the main thrust of the conversation. For now.

"And what did you learn about yourself from our trip?" he wonders. Interest sparks, but he's clearly tamping down on everything simultaneously, keeping his manner as unobtrusive and natural as possible. A sort of forced, yet relaxed state of zen. If such a thing were possible. "And you're from Tokyo, I think you said? Does Shibuya mean something to you specifically? Was that what put you off your appetite?"

Kirara searches curious between Robert's eyes as he offers his own answer, a quiet question in her stare as he seems to sweep it away in favor of their current topic. The nature of his question inspires a gentle pinch of her brows, the smile resting at her lips dimming to rest only as the faintest line at her lips.

"I used to visit Shibuya all the time, with my friends," she answers softly, a bittersweet ring to her tone. "I'm sure it has everything to do with my appetite." Her reasoning ends there as she watches the man, uncertainty surfaced in her gaze.

"I barely recognized it," Robert admits after a sharp intake of breath, eyebrows bouncing upwards before dropping once more to their usual position. "I think I'd only been there once. Something about cafes and...some culture. Or something. At least I think that was Shibuya?" Note well: Never trust Robert to take you anywhere around Tokyo. Not if you intend to end up somewhere specific. He lifts his hands in mock surrender.

"I don't think it struck me the same way that it did you. No memories there for me. Just a sense that the game was mocking me. Well, not me. But us in general."

A silence, then. The faintest twitch of his lips, followed at length by a sigh. Copper, flicked from his thumb, flashes in a metallic, graceful arc towards Kirara. "I'm no good at this, Kiku. You seem to have a question and I don't think I'm answering it properly. What are your thoughts?"

Kirara offers an apologetic smile at the sentiment of feeling mocked by their programmed prison. Her head tilts faintly, brows cinching together over her eyes. Her sympathies are offered in gesture, rather than word. The apology is interrupted though, as a coin flips in a flash of color to meet her. Immediately her hands reach up, eyes wide as she sweeps her hands to 'CLAP' the object between her palms. For a moment, she's rigid, opening her hands carefully to see what she's snapped up into their grasp. Her brows knit as she examines the little metal disc, eyes holding toward it in consideration.

"It felt a little different, for me," she admits, measuring the coin a moment longer before letting her expression smooth as she looks back toward Robert. "It almost seemed like it was asking me to stay... But I don't have any desire to give up on going home."

"You've seemed really interested... In my goals, in my skills... I wondered if you might be looking for help with a project," she answers, a hint of worry in the draw of her brows. The meaning of the coin seems lost on her.

"Project?" Blink. Blinkblink. "Oh. Project! No. I mean yes. I..."

Again a moment of silence, during which he collects his thoughts. There's a pair of false starts, before he manages to get it right. Well, in his opinion. It's not his most eloquent moment. "If you are looking for something to occupy yourself, I am happy...no, delighted to work with you," he begins, sitting up straight and interlacing his fingers in order to afford her concerns the consideration they deserve. "If you are asking whether I am talking with you only to make use of your abilities? No. All I do is reflect what I see as best I can. Your motives, your goals. Your aspirations, how you intend to achieve those aspirations. They certainly seem both important and meaningful to you. They are productive, and benefit Scale in general. So it is, I think, right that I help if that is what you desire. I'm not sure if that answers your concerns?"

Kirara doesn't mind waiting. She nods a bit as he repeats the word, ensuring he's heard right, and listens carefully, curious of his response.

"It does, in a way," she assures, some relief in the softness of her growing smile. "It's less a concern and more... I was a little confused. I don't mind sharing, but in a way... they're very personal questions. Don't you think?" Her gaze casts itself downward as she averts her attention, seeking solace in a brief withdrawal. The hand that lifts to hover near her chest rests a pair of fingers to the line of her collarbone, soothing her.

There is yet another pair of blinks. "Are they?" Robert asks, in vaguely mystified tones. They're not condescending per se, nor are they shocked. But his reaction is one of a distant sort of revelation, as though he'd never even considered that such a discussion might be considered private. Nor, judging by the lingering, pensive confusion upon his features, is he having much luck in sussing out why they -should- be considered personal. Let alone very personal.

"Well," he continues at length. "I do apologize for prying, then. Please pardon my rudeness, I suppose I must have simply gotten..." A pause, as his gaze catches on the self-soothing tracing of her fingers over her collarbone. "...carried away," he finishes. Oof. If she's doing that, it's not a good sign.

His gaze lingers in silence, for almost too long, before lifting.

"I can offer you one question, truthfully answered, as personal as you like. Will that even the scales?"

"There's no need to apologize," Kirara promises, forgiveness promised in the pinch of her stare. The waning of her smile offers some apology of her own as her fingers rest against her skin, no sign of hurt in the blue of her eyes. "I wouldn't have answered if I didn't want to," she muses, closing her eyes gently as she searches her thoughts.

When she opens her eyes it's a thoughtful stare that reveals itself, no sense of bashfulness in her gaze as it rests steadily toward Robert's own. "One question," she agrees, smile finding itself back to her lips with a natural ease.

"What question would you like me to ask you the most?" And that's it. That's her question.

Ah. There it is. Laughter, however unvoiced, warms his brown eyes before bursting to life. Robert collapses back in his chair, hands lifting to cover his face. The laughs turn into giggles, and his knuckles draw, once, across his eyes as the laughter slowly, ever so gradually fades away.

"I had not expected -that-," he answers at length, probably desperately buying time. Not that he looks at all intent on running away, for he leans forward once more, one arm folding over the other. "But I suppose I should have. And I did promise. So, before I answer, a clarification. You want to know what question I want you to ask me, the most? Or you want to know what question I want you to ask about me, the most?"

Kirara can only smile brighter as the question inspires a laugh from the man. The corners of her smile lift with cheer, a sense of fondness in her gaze as her own sense of humor sees a crease at the corners of her eyes. She bows her head a bit as he admits to having been surprised by the question, a friendly apology for having caught him off guard.

"The question you want me to ask you, the most," she clarifies gently. "If you want time to think about it though, I don't mind waiting a while. I get the feeling I can trust you to keep your word," Kirara compliments, a playful lilt to her tone.

The amusement lingers, amidst a curious sort of resignation. It would appear that her challenge yields...mixed feelings, to say the least. Oh, not that he's inclined to backtrack. And while shame does touch upon his cheeks, lightening their sun-worn hue by just a shade, it would see that the shame is more of the mildly self-deprecating variety than the drop-through-the-floor, bury me now variety.

He nods his head in acknowledgement. "Alright," he concedes. "Though you'll be disappointed, I fear. I know -I- am. But I suppose that tells you something too."

A pause, a sigh, and then he's on his feet, pacing around the table to murmur something under his breath. Though notably he does keep to a distance of around one foot.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Kirara soothes, brows knitting further at the color to surface on his cheeks. Her gaze is soft as it follows him, eyes tracing his steps as he draws himself in nearer. When he stops short, she leans herself over a touch, a velvety, doe-like ear perking itself up in hopes of catching his voice.

As his lips move with a question, her ear only hikes itself higher, brows perching high over her eyes as she watches toward Robert in surprise. She's quiet for a moment, her ear falling to rest naturally in its place as she watches on in wonder, taking time to process the question given to her. After a brief lapse of silence however, her lips draw to a gentle smile, her gaze warm as she moves to rise from her seat.

"Then let me ask you," she answers, stepping herself just a bit nearer before lifting her arms in welcome. "Would it be alright with you?" she murmurs gently, blue eyes searching softly toward his own. "If I held you for a little while?"

"It's not a question of bad, it's a question of there being so, so very many other questions that -could-, and probably should, have been asked instead," Robert clarifies as he straightens and continues to regard her with a furrowed brow. "But instead. Well..."

Robert lets the silence speak for itself for many moments, during which he remains precisely where he is. There is no retreat as she steps forward. He simply gathers himself, lifts his chin, and offers a somber nod. "It would," he confirms, pitching his tones to be low. While he does not tense up, not exactly, his own gaze is also searching. But not, perhaps, as soft as her's. It is keenly observant, if not being quite on-edge.

Kirara steps herself in closer as he gives his approval, her arms reaching to circle gently around his middle. "Sometimes," she murmurs in a soft voice, pale locks spilling over her shoulder as she tilts her head to catch his eyes with the blue her own. "I think we need something like this."

Smile welcoming and warm at her lips, the draw of her arms pulls itself a bit tighter, the warmth of her body guided to lean in against his own. It would be easy to feel the calm and steady beat of her heart, smile resting in a comforting curl at her lips as her touch encourages him to rest against her in turn. "Just tell me if it's too much," she speaks softly, voice edging just above a whisper as she searches lovingly toward his eyes.

Her touch may be gentle. His? Not so much. Not that it is a rib-cracker of a bear-hug, and he certainly does not appear to be trying to squeeze the breath out of her body. But his grip--from the forearm and fingertips against her waist to the palm pressed against her shoulderblades--is firm, bordering on unyielding. And while he -does- meet her gaze for a moment, the connection is broken almost immediately in favor of closing, cheek resting against her shoulder.

Yes. He's quite a bit shorter than she is at present.

His pulse is elevated, though it does not race, and the tension in his form is alert, coiled without being over-wound. Judging by their previous interactions, he's probably trying to analyze the hug in real-time, or somesuch. Finally, he speaks. "Too much for what?" he wants to know.

Kirara relaxes easily into the strength of his hold, shoulders dropping faintly as she melts softly in his grip. Her brows cinch in quiet adoration as he closes his eyes to settle his cheek against her shoulder, and though she can still feel the stubborn tension in his muscles, she's comfortable enough to let her own gaze slide shut, head bowing a touch lower to rest her cheek against his own.

"Sometimes touch just makes people more anxious," she reflects lightly, lashes parting a bit as she watches into the emptied room surrounding them. Her hand drifts thoughtless to rub circles into his back, smoothing over its surface in a comforting gesture. Her smile can be heard in her voice as she continues. "It's always put me at ease, though."

SpritesHero's eye opens. Squint off into the distance. One tremor after another run through his frame and his grip tightens for a breath. It's perhaps only noticeable a few moments later that the tremors are silent laughter. Which, perhaps, is why he doesn't speak for quite some time indeed.

"I suppose there -is- a certain vulnerability to it," he suggests at last, thumb tapping meaningfully against her waist. "But you're doing it again, aren't you. Your ancestral spirit aspiration." Not that he seems to mind.

Kirara doesn't register the laughter at first. She's comfortable in her shared embrace, and her eyes find themselves easing closed once again as her palm continues its aimless drift against his back. After a moment, his shaking does catch her attention, and the wander of her hand stops, gaze drawn open once more as she listens for some clue as to the nature of the movement.

"Mm...?" she hums out, focus shifting to peek from the corner of her eyes as his question further coaxes her from her reverie. Her smile furthers at his word, lashes weighing to rest a bit lower over her gaze as a sparkle of humor lights her stare. "No," she answers warmly, one of her hands drawing back to instead find its fingers weaving back through his hair. "It's not quite like that."

"Oh?" Whether he is slowly lulled out of his guard, or has simply decided that he's not going to figure out anything on his own and may as well just ask, he slowly...well, slightly...relaxes. Tension gradually bleeds away, pulse and breathing rate evening out in turn, and when he speaks an element of drowsy comfort has crept, unbidden, into his tones.

"Then what is it?" he inquires, thumb tapping once more against the small of her back. The residual dampness in his hair is gone but, as though mirroring his personality, his hair does not quite return to its original spot as her fingers pass through it. Instead it springs into roguish disarray.

"It takes me back," Kirara answers easily, her warm, fuzzy feelings of nostalgia lending a wistful hum to her murmuring. "It feels like being back home, again. With the people I care about the most."

The edges of her smile can't help but turn themselves higher as her eyes catch toward the defiant locks of hair that refuse to settle back into their places. Her fingers work gingerly to try and smooth them back down again, likely only stirring up more rogue strands in their efforts.

"Thank you for sharing your question with me," she speaks softly, closing her eyes as her fingers drift back further through his hair.

Yep. There's no fixing that hair. Not without dousing it in water or, at minimum, a liberal helping of spit.

But please, please don't spit in his hair.

"You're welcome," he answers, his manner somber. It almost, almost sounds dignified, coupled as it is with a pulsed firming of the embrace. Tellingly, however, he says nothing about being home again. Nothing about people left behind.

"Though in all fairness, I do feel I ought to inform you that you seem to have given my question the most favorable possible interpretation," he concludes.

Kirara giggles gently, a flash of teeth peeking from her brighening smile as she feels his hug tighten for a moment.

"Were you hoping for something else?" she wonders, a playful ring to her tone as she turns her head to nuzzle into the mess of his hair. The gesture proves brief as her fingers slide to draw over his stubborn hair once again, her opposite hand drawing smooth and slow to guide itself up and down his back. Gently, she angles her head to see her lips alongside his ear, whispering softly to him.

SpritesHero's head cants to the side, considering. "No, it's not quite that," he answers, the phrase unintentionally mirroring her own from earlier. His hair? Is somewhat tamed. It pretends to almost behave, without ever quite conforming to expectations, and has a tendancy to go into disarray once more the moment attentions are turned elsewhere.

"Less the what than the why," he explains further, though as explanations go it is, perhaps, somewhat lacking. "Never really was much of a hugger, you see, so in terms of memories? Well." There's the faintest little movement of his shoulders. One can't shrug properly in a hug like this anyhow.

Her whisper prompts a faint smile, and a whisper in return.

Kirara hums, her voice soft and low in understanding. The warmth of her smile only deepens as it etches further into her features, her arm squeezing itself tighter around his back for the words being whispered to her. Her soft, deer-like ears flutter a moment as she dips her head a touch, appreciation reflecting soft in her eyes as she considers the man. Gaze half-hidden behind the haze of her lashes, she leans herself in again, lips pressing to offer a gentle kiss to the rebellious strands of hair still standing in opposition against her.

"You're very sweet, Robert," she answers him quietly, fingers skating themselves around to the back of his skull to help cradle him against her shoulder. She can't help but find herself giggling again for the next words to come to mind. "And you're an excellent hugger, too," she muses, the edges of her smile teasing higher. "You'll let me have another if I ask again sometime, won't you?"

"Flatterer." The accusation is in good humor, however, any skepticism in the word mellow rather than sharp. "But if you wish for it? Yes. Of course."

That said, the stubborness of his hair is certainly nothing personal. It does not oppose, it simply does what it will. Unlike Robert proper, mind, who appears to be behaving himself at least decently. His grip loosens, ever so slightly, but he does not step back and is evidently content to leave the timing of the hug to her. When he next speaks, however, his tones are more serious. "Kiku. About before. Your resolve, and the questions. Do you wish for me to be involved, or no? It is your cross to bear, and I am happy to help if you find it helpful. Or not, if you do not. I do not take this personally."

Kirara looses the weave of her arm soon after she feels his own slack. Perhaps she would have drawn to pull away, if not for the familiar call of her name. Her smile fades slightly, recognition lighting behind her eyes as she turns her gaze toward the voice of the man still held softly against her. She doesn't answer at first, taking the time to sort through her thoughts as she allows her eyes to fall closed once more. It's only after a moment of quiet that she finally speaks.

"I am taking this slowly..." she answers, still sifting through words as she offers a reply. "I'm sure of my resolve. And I am steadily making progress in finding the answers to my questions. But I don't think it's wise for me to turn you down," the woman reasons, a sense of defeat weighing at the edges of her smile. "I'm not sure what you could do to help. But if I think of something -- I can promise. I'll let you know."

With that, Kirara steps herself back. Her arms fall from around him, though she can't seem to restrain herself from sliding a finger down the bridge of his nose as she offers him a playful smile. "You're welcome to come to me, too. Whenever you're ready," the woman says gently, smile easing itself soft with assurance.

SpritesHero fully allows her the time she needs to return to the here and now from wherever it was that she was. He even spares her the indignity of scrutinizing her features for every flicker and twitch, instead opting for a carefully neutral gaze aimed over her left shoulder.

Once she -does- speak, however, he refocuses quickly enough. "Sometimes it can help to simply talk things over, whether with someone who supports your view, or with someone capable of an adversarial viewpoint. Preferably both," he suggests. His smile is pleasant enough, and he certainly doesn't indicate which role he'd be filling, if any. "Or at least I find it useful. You may, of course, work differently."

The descent of her finger is eyed with almost too much intensity, his nose crinkling and his eyes outright crossing as they attempt to focus on the midpoint. "Duly noted." And with that, he too steps back, inclining his chin in a nod. His hand lifts, fingers rippling over the air in front of him, before making a swishing gesture in her direction.

Kirara dips her head in a small nod, easily agreeing with his reasoning as he answers her. The sight of a smile on his lips seems to soften her own, the thanks offered in the warmth of her eyes accompanied by a small "Thank you," as she draws back her hand. His request is met with a quick upward flick of her index finger, the system registering her acceptance.

"Sorry to have distracted you for so long," she giggles lightly, her smile hinting brighter despite the apology to furrow her brows. A hand lifts itself to guide a straying lock of hair behind the furred spade of one of her ears. "But it was nice to enjoy the company, for a minute." Her gaze pinches faintly as her smile warms further.

"No apology, Kiku. The pleasure is mine," Robert returns. Rolling up his sleeves, he half-sits, half-leans against the table. It's a casual posture, but no less attentive for it, and no doubt is one he will retain until she makes her departure. Wouldn't do to just sit down and begin eating and reading with her still here, after all. "Until we meet again. I look forward to it."

"Same here," she answers to his farewell, her hand lifting to offer a little wave before she turns to start on her way. The click of her sandals echoes over the quiet to have settled over the dining hall as she moves, the surrounding chatter having died away to leave the room in relative silence. "Until then, please take care," she calls back, making a brief pause at the doorway to offer a smile over her shoulder.

With her farewell offered, she's disappearing into the corridor, the steady clap of her steps gradually fading into the evening hush.

Her parting smile elicits a wave from Robert, and it is only once she disappears around the corner that he rises, paces aorund the table, and retakes his seat. His book opens, his chopsticks slide into his dinner, and it is but a few moments before he is lost to the world.