[ The common interpretation is that it isn't all necessarily the same maiden. That she's allegorical, even, but considering their patron goddesses are the Maidens... who knows? ]
Heh, plenty of people in the bureau get into debates about what that's supposed to mean. [ After all, blue is the colour of Venus and her Chosen, which includes Day. ] What made you say starlight, though? [ He's curious. If a bit of that connection still lingers here, he'd be gratified even if it's just part of the aesthetic. ]
[ It gets a smile from Day, and a low, pleased laugh. ]
Still makes me glad to hear it from you. [ That he can still remind someone of the stars, but also the fact it's Ginger saying this, for some reason. He takes another sip of wine. ] First time's someone compared 'em to the ocean, too.
[ Oh, Ginger. Day really wasn't expecting him to say that. Or maybe he should have, since Ginger was also the one to say people could stand to be a little more selfish. ]
[ For a moment, Day considers downing the rest of his drink so he can use alcohol as an excuse, or to change the topic to something else. Anything else, something that doesn't feel like he's setting himself up for disappointment or, heavens forbid, a broken heart. If he gives too much of "Joyous Day" to someone else, even another celestial, how is it any different from letting them have ████?
Things seem—different here, where it appears arcane fate has no hold over him, but he knows it won't last (and it shouldn't, really). He won't forget that keeping ahold of Joyous Day is like catching rain in one's hands; eventually, it will overflow, or slip through one's fingers to disappear into the earth.
But Ginger would notice, and then there'd be no end to it. He can always say that this is what Ginger asked for, anyway. ]
I'll only say it once. [ He must set that limit. Day puts the mug down on the coffee table, then turns to look Ginger in the eye. If he's making an earnest request, then Day should meet it with equal earnestness. ]
Remember me. The way I look, the sound of my voice, the things you like about me, the things you hate about me....the time we spent together, the way I make you feel. Whether you cherish those memories or come to despise them one day.
[ Hold onto me, please.
...But he won't say that. There is a limit to even this selfishness. ]
[ He was mistaken. He did have an answer, but it wasn't for a declaration like this. He shouldn't hide behind his mug, so he sets that down, too. Now's not the time to be a coward, Ginger. ]
Why... does it sound like you're already saying goodbye, Day?
[ And if that's the case... if they really will have to part one day - likely, perhaps even inevitable - will Day say nothing at all then? 'I'll only say it once.'
Ginger hates the idea of that, he realizes. ]
Stupid. Do you think I could ever hate you? [ That spoken under his breath, before he says: ] Let's see... No one looks like you, no one sounds like you. I like pretty much everything about you. There's nothing I hate. I want to spend more time together, but you do make me feel weird because no one acts like you around me. So... of course, I'll cherish these memories.
[ Ginger's reaction suddenly makes Day realise that, perhaps, he had been too intense in interpreting Ginger's request, which is pretty embarrassing. Goodness, what would some of the senior Joybringers think about this faux pas... (They'd be amused, mostly.)
Maybe a part of him had hoped that Ginger would retreat, because at least then he could take it as an out. "Just kidding," and it would be easy to put everything back and out of sight like he hadn't just made an honest admission, mark where the boundary of hope should be so his expectations can be set.
But Ginger just answers him earnestly instead, and he can only go "oh" internally like an idiot. ]
[ Let's just sidestep the first part, since how the hell is Day going to say that yes, he does sound that way because he's always braced for that inevitability? Terribly awkward. Even if Ginger is both celestial and a demon, every meeting will end with a parting—and for Day, most of them are especially transient.
...And even when the rest of what Ginger says sort of soaks in ("Do you think I could ever hate you?", "I like pretty much everything about you.", "I'll cherish these memories."—) Day tries to pivot to something more light-hearted.]
"Feel weird"? How so? [ ...He's also genuinely curious, not gonna lie. ]
Not… unsettled, but… [ His expression shifts just the slightest and he looks distinctly unhappy compared to before. ] You’re just unexpected. In a new way.
[ And then he - slaps his hand over Day’s mouth. It’s very rude, but - ]
[ Maybe he really has been slipping up too much for Ginger to be saying this. A part of him thinks, maybe he should start putting more distance before he does something really stupid and he regrets it.
The other part thinks, it's been two years, Ginger's some kind of celestial, and it's been a while since he's felt this comfortable with anyone. It's fine to just... bask in this a little, he guesses. There's always an ending anyway, right? ]
[ Again, note to self: Ginger is more perceptive than you give him credit for, stop fucking that up.
Even so, Day leans back towards the bay window, like he hopes he'll put himself far enough out of sight that Ginger won't see the expression on his face. If he can't smile, how is he supposed to protect himself from his troubles? ]
...What if, [ It's a tentative question. ] the real thing turns out to be disappointing? [ If it turns out to be some tired, wounded thing that's clinging to something bigger than itself because there's nothing left otherwise. Not hateful in any sense, but not endearing, either. ]
[ Right now? To Ginger. And other times, other people. He's a Chosen of Serenity, a Joybringer, but how can he try to bring serenity into people's lives if he himself cannot muster contentment?
So maybe it's foolish of him to find himself thinking back to the way Ginger carried himself that night ("Have you ever hated yourself?") and wish he could love Ginger until a time came when he could be at peace with himself. So that he doesn't have to fear being a disappointment too.
...He's aware of the hypocrisy of this. ]
Even though it'll change this? [ "This", whatever shape this friendship is. "Will", not "if", because Day cannot imagine too many things won't be cast in a different light if he's at all honest. ]
[ Now that’s a word he doesn’t like: change. He won’t ever like it, ever looming in the distance.
He thinks… ‘this’… may be referring to him and Day, but in what way? ]
… We’ll change anyway - with or without each other. But - [ A gentle pause because he does understand being so fearful of an uncertain future. ] But the memories we already have, those won’t.
And it doesn’t need to be now. So instead of using that smile, you should tell me “not now, Ginger.” Just like that.
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[ He repeats the scripture in his head as he remembers it. Why, then, was she initially driven from her home? Is she the monster called love?
Something else that stands out though: ]
“Their eyes shone blue.” Like yours, like starlight.
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Heh, plenty of people in the bureau get into debates about what that's supposed to mean. [ After all, blue is the colour of Venus and her Chosen, which includes Day. ] What made you say starlight, though? [ He's curious. If a bit of that connection still lingers here, he'd be gratified even if it's just part of the aesthetic. ]
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[ He tilts his head and considers Day’s eyes. ]
Almost like an ocean, but you don’t reflect the sky.
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Still makes me glad to hear it from you. [ That he can still remind someone of the stars, but also the fact it's Ginger saying this, for some reason. He takes another sip of wine. ] First time's someone compared 'em to the ocean, too.
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Really? What do they usually say?
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They’re pretty, but they’re a question. I think you could stand to be a little more demanding.
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In what way?
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1/2
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He doesn't want to explain it here and now, so he just closes his eyes. ]
Should I start with you, then?
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… Go for it. I already have my answer ready.
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Things seem—different here, where it appears arcane fate has no hold over him, but he knows it won't last (and it shouldn't, really). He won't forget that keeping ahold of Joyous Day is like catching rain in one's hands; eventually, it will overflow, or slip through one's fingers to disappear into the earth.
But Ginger would notice, and then there'd be no end to it. He can always say that this is what Ginger asked for, anyway. ]
I'll only say it once. [ He must set that limit. Day puts the mug down on the coffee table, then turns to look Ginger in the eye. If he's making an earnest request, then Day should meet it with equal earnestness. ]
Remember me. The way I look, the sound of my voice, the things you like about me, the things you hate about me....the time we spent together, the way I make you feel. Whether you cherish those memories or come to despise them one day.
[ Hold onto me, please.
...But he won't say that. There is a limit to even this selfishness. ]
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[ He was mistaken. He did have an answer, but it wasn't for a declaration like this. He shouldn't hide behind his mug, so he sets that down, too. Now's not the time to be a coward, Ginger. ]
Why... does it sound like you're already saying goodbye, Day?
[ And if that's the case... if they really will have to part one day - likely, perhaps even inevitable - will Day say nothing at all then? 'I'll only say it once.'
Ginger hates the idea of that, he realizes. ]
Stupid. Do you think I could ever hate you? [ That spoken under his breath, before he says: ] Let's see... No one looks like you, no one sounds like you. I like pretty much everything about you. There's nothing I hate. I want to spend more time together, but you do make me feel weird because no one acts like you around me. So... of course, I'll cherish these memories.
1/2
Maybe a part of him had hoped that Ginger would retreat, because at least then he could take it as an out. "Just kidding," and it would be easy to put everything back and out of sight like he hadn't just made an honest admission, mark where the boundary of hope should be so his expectations can be set.
But Ginger just answers him earnestly instead, and he can only go "oh" internally like an idiot. ]
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...And even when the rest of what Ginger says sort of soaks in ("Do you think I could ever hate you?", "I like pretty much everything about you.", "I'll cherish these memories."—) Day tries to pivot to something more light-hearted.]
"Feel weird"? How so? [ ...He's also genuinely curious, not gonna lie. ]
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[ And then he - slaps his hand over Day’s mouth. It’s very rude, but - ]
Don’t smile like that. I hate it.
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But before he can try to probe about that, Ginger does all that. ]
Didn't you just say there's nothing you hate?
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[ So there. ]
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The other part thinks, it's been two years, Ginger's some kind of celestial, and it's been a while since he's felt this comfortable with anyone. It's fine to just... bask in this a little, he guesses. There's always an ending anyway, right? ]
What's that, accordin' to you?
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[ He’s only a little (a lot) stupid, but he’s seen enough fake, evasive smiles to spot one all the way from Heaven.
Never fails to piss him off. ]
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Even so, Day leans back towards the bay window, like he hopes he'll put himself far enough out of sight that Ginger won't see the expression on his face. If he can't smile, how is he supposed to protect himself from his troubles? ]
...What if, [ It's a tentative question. ] the real thing turns out to be disappointing? [ If it turns out to be some tired, wounded thing that's clinging to something bigger than itself because there's nothing left otherwise. Not hateful in any sense, but not endearing, either. ]
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To who?
[ To Ginger? Who is torn between being one thing or the other, neither being entirely what he wants. He’s the biggest disappointment here.
Who is he to find anyone else a disappointment? ]
It’s scary, right? The answer to your question. I get scared, too. [ Terrified, actually. ] Still, I want to know.
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So maybe it's foolish of him to find himself thinking back to the way Ginger carried himself that night ("Have you ever hated yourself?") and wish he could love Ginger until a time came when he could be at peace with himself. So that he doesn't have to fear being a disappointment too.
...He's aware of the hypocrisy of this. ]
Even though it'll change this? [ "This", whatever shape this friendship is. "Will", not "if", because Day cannot imagine too many things won't be cast in a different light if he's at all honest. ]
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He thinks… ‘this’… may be referring to him and Day, but in what way? ]
… We’ll change anyway - with or without each other. But - [ A gentle pause because he does understand being so fearful of an uncertain future. ] But the memories we already have, those won’t.
And it doesn’t need to be now. So instead of using that smile, you should tell me “not now, Ginger.” Just like that.
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