capeandcowllogs | (real bros sleep with bro's wives.)

WHO: cross marian (

ioudas) and danger!!! (

heartlessglitch)
WHERE: MAC, cross's new apartment
WHEN: forward-dated to this weekend.
WARNINGS: it's ... cross ....
SUMMARY: after his conversation with madison, danger feels the need to emotionally punch cross in the feels.
FORMAT:action to start!!

(why, why, why, did he decide to do the honorable thing and ask madison if he was still married lillian? why did he have to do the honorable thing and say that he would stay away? why did he care? cross, always wondering if he was getting soft and weak.

but, that was in the back of his mind as he started to move from the MAC to the new apartment on the upper east side. he hadn't told anyone that he was moving, cross figured that it would be best to keep at least some air of mystery around him. lenalee, he had hoped, was settling in properly but the more he moved his books the better.

argh, why was being such a good person such a buzzkill? the door's open as he fills up the taxi and the movers to move his precious books. basking in his spot in the sun, as always, was the giant gold ball timcampy (grown considerably larger over the course of the few days as a measure to protect cross) sleeping happily.)

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Whoever doesn't see you as such is blind.

(that smile falters slightly, because he knows that this is terrible for all of them involved and he's actually letting himself show some sort of emotion in front of someone.)

[ another little pause. ]

Regardless, I am a machine before I am a woman. I wish to return to my mechanical state as soon as possible. This body is difficult to cope with, and I believe Madison is uncomfortable with closeness to any organic woman. Perhaps even Lillian.

[ then, perhaps almost wryly-- it's hard to tell if her humor is that developed or not: ] You, I suppose, do not have that problem.

(he gets the small humor in it before thinking for a moment about his answer:) Flesh or steel do not make a human human.

(he shrugs awkwardly.) I just don't get close in general.

Are you attempting to protect yourself that way?

(there's just a bitter laugh, not even a machine could comprehend the tragedy of what being an exorcist (even more so, a general) is.)

It is our curse.

[ she just watches him, contemplating that brief response a few moments before answering: ]

But did you not wish to be close with Lillian?

I only wish for her to be happy.

(as complicated as everything is, the simple truth is all that he can offer Danger.)

[ she makes a considering sound. ]

Perhaps it is irrelevant. She will return to her home universe to die eventually. That is the inevitable future, and the truth of the matter.

Then let her have her happiness here, where she isn't bound by the puppet strings of fate. We all deserve a moment of true joy before we die.

(his fate and her own are the same. though he keeps that a secret, all exorcists die brutally in the end anyway.)

Human emotions are complicated. Happiness, perhaps most of all. I cannot say what will truly make Lillian happy, but I know that I must prioritize my own objectives, which include protecting my primary emotional asset.

I hope you will cooperate, Cross Marian. I don't wish for us to be enemies.

I've seen you strangle a man, I don't think I want to be on the receiving end of that.

(see, no joke about asphyxiation.)

I highly doubt that will be necessary.

[ a small pause. ]

I believe you understand this situation, and consequently, what must be done.

Far be it from me to get in the way of true love.

(a beat:) If that's what it is.

[ she considers that for a moment, turning the phrase over in her mind a few times. "true love."

finally: ] I am unsure what makes love true or untrue-- or what makes one person's love more true than another's. What is the criteria by which this can be judged?

True love is something that's absolutely beautiful, yet absolutely devastating. You want them, you need them, but at the same time, you just want them to be happy even if you're in despair. It's something where if you love someone, it's something that consumes you.

(he sighs, trying to hide the fact that he's the sort of guy that knows about love.)

Not that I'd know.

[ another pause. she closes her eyes a minute, as if she wants to visualize and memorize what he's saying to her. she's always trying to define emotions better for herself-- always a little uncertain, against her own will, if her feelings are real or artificial, truth or simulation.

but she understands the feeling he's describing to her. she's felt it. or at least, she thinks she has. ]

I think you do know, Cross Marian. You have defined the sensation of true love in a way that I feel to be accurate.

I don't know it, I only know how to recognize it. (and he's squandered it, and she died because of it. they all died because of it.

but really, he hides his face, making sure that she can't really see his almost sad expression.)

You need to decide what you define love as. Whatever it is, it's real.

[ she watches him. watches the say he hides his face from her. ]

How can you be so certain?

You can't program something that illogical into someone. (he's fumbling through a drawer and grabbing the spare keys to his new place before tossing them at her.)

Should you ever need it, I'll text you the address and you can get into the new place.

[ she catches them-- ah, her coordination is improving. opening her hand, she looks down at the keys in her palm, then back up at cross. ]

Thank you, Cross Marian. [ a small pause. ] Is this an indicator that we are friends now?

Yeah, it does. (a beat, he's actually really uncomfortable being on good terms with people.)

Just. Don't let anyone know that I'm this nice. Don't want to give them the wrong idea, y'know?

[ it might almost be wry when she responds, mildly: ]

I said that we are friends. I did not say I thought you were nice.

Close enough, I think.

(there we go, he starts to get out of his very sullen mood and starts to get back to his usual self.)

Though, between the two of us, I'd think that I was the nice one.

(real bros sleep with bro's wives.)

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