03-08-2022, 08:48 PM
Ruth was quite possibly considering how Zechariah’s watch could become her watch. It paired perfectly with at least a few of her vests. Even more than a few, if she were to borrow from her little brother’s closet. Because crossdressing in Whitby sounded like an excellent idea. The plan slipped from her mind pretty quickly, like most things did, and, like most things, it was likely to eventually come back.
“Define popular,” she rebuked, so readily one would have thought she was reading a script. She clearly had opinions about Zechariah’s potential to be “popular” in the most common sense of the word.
Ruth actually had a lot of tenderness for that little brother of hers. If she had been a different person, she might have shared the respect she felt for the strong choices he had made in life and even some appreciation for his former wardrobe. Had she been different, she would have tried to create a safe space for some of the insecurity she was sure she had eyed in the past. But alas, she was too concentrated on her goals, too busy being so loud she couldn’t hear a single critique, too busy gaining the attention that was never spontaneously offered to her to actually put in the work necessary. It wasn’t the willingness to put that in practice that she was lacking: it was the consistency. She was too volatile and she had embraced that rather than trying to do better. She was imperfectly herself and she had made a point of shouting that at the world.
This normally would have swollen her chest with a song, but right now… right now she was thinking about what brought her here and this made her world terribly quiet. Which was why, when she emerged from it, she had words to say that wiped out any good will she might have incited in her brother.
“Trackrecords” she answered, raising an eyebrow, evidently not impressed.
And then a mention of a woman. That convinced Ruth for exactly zero seconds “I am sure she will be thrilled in hearing you describe her as attractive and loaded in the same sentence.” Oh, but she wasn’t going to stop at that “So you have horrible gambling debts, she is pregnant, both, or…?” They were inside a carriage, the wheel sound was going to cover her. She wasn’t shouting, right? Then she waved her hand, as to say maybe I don’t want to know.
“As per usual.” Was there anything she wasn’t going to remark upon.
The question took her a little by surprise. She rose her eyebrows then proceeded to cross her legs. It wasn’t a skirt. It was a pair of very large trousers that pretended to be a skirt. Unless she did that the effect was barely visible. She smiled triumphantly.
“Define popular,” she rebuked, so readily one would have thought she was reading a script. She clearly had opinions about Zechariah’s potential to be “popular” in the most common sense of the word.
Ruth actually had a lot of tenderness for that little brother of hers. If she had been a different person, she might have shared the respect she felt for the strong choices he had made in life and even some appreciation for his former wardrobe. Had she been different, she would have tried to create a safe space for some of the insecurity she was sure she had eyed in the past. But alas, she was too concentrated on her goals, too busy being so loud she couldn’t hear a single critique, too busy gaining the attention that was never spontaneously offered to her to actually put in the work necessary. It wasn’t the willingness to put that in practice that she was lacking: it was the consistency. She was too volatile and she had embraced that rather than trying to do better. She was imperfectly herself and she had made a point of shouting that at the world.
This normally would have swollen her chest with a song, but right now… right now she was thinking about what brought her here and this made her world terribly quiet. Which was why, when she emerged from it, she had words to say that wiped out any good will she might have incited in her brother.
“Trackrecords” she answered, raising an eyebrow, evidently not impressed.
And then a mention of a woman. That convinced Ruth for exactly zero seconds “I am sure she will be thrilled in hearing you describe her as attractive and loaded in the same sentence.” Oh, but she wasn’t going to stop at that “So you have horrible gambling debts, she is pregnant, both, or…?” They were inside a carriage, the wheel sound was going to cover her. She wasn’t shouting, right? Then she waved her hand, as to say maybe I don’t want to know.
“As per usual.” Was there anything she wasn’t going to remark upon.
The question took her a little by surprise. She rose her eyebrows then proceeded to cross her legs. It wasn’t a skirt. It was a pair of very large trousers that pretended to be a skirt. Unless she did that the effect was barely visible. She smiled triumphantly.
