(1938-01-12) Apologies and Uncomfortable Truths
Details for Apologies and Uncomfortable Truths
Summary: Alis visits Cyril to apologize for not having been in touch.
Date: Saturday, January 12, 1938
Location: Residence Owned By Cyril, London
Related: Friendship Revisited

Residence Owned By Cyril, London

On the outside this home looks like every other home next to it. Three floors all stacked very neatly, one on top of the other with a Rolls Royce parked outside and a portly man leaned up against it reading a newspaper. Only after one steps inside, though, do they become privy to the wonderous world of things that rest behind the door. It's obvious that the owner of this place is obsessed with gold as it is positively everywhere from the trim to the little knick-knacks resting on the shelves. It's a fairly simple houseplan; the bottom floor is comprised of a foyer, a parlor and a kitchen, all of which have been immaculately maintained. The second is essentially just an open bedroom with en suite. The third floor, however is the owner's study and the tones are a deep red. Littered about the study are several monuments from his travels that look like they should be placed in a museum somewhere. A pair of khopesh sit on the wall, crossed and still covered in dried blood and a sarcaphagus-turned-bookshelf sits right beside the large mahoghany desk. Through the large window of the the study, one can see a spectacular view of London and the Thames.

It would seem that things are coming along in Cyril's home. There's more furniture scattered about and a hell of a lot more gold to look at. Seem that the man is obsessed. Having just come in from a run, Cyril finds himself limping about his kitchen as he plucks a coffee mug down from the shelf and moves over to pour himself some of that sweet, sweet nectar. He's dressed in his usual running clothes; a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. His jacket is laid over the back of a kitchen chair somewhere.

The weather is cold, and snow flurries obscure vision, which is why Alis chooses to Apparate to just outside Cyril's front door rather than walking from a nearby alleyway. She fluffs her hair with a hand and uses the other to knock at the door, then spends a moment straightening her tie. Her attire is much more businesslike than it was the last time she was here.

Cyril looks up from his current task and says, "Barney! Someone's at the door!" Cyril continues going about his business and Barney stands up from reading his paper in the living room to go answer the door, popping his head in the small crack that's created as he opens it. He looks Alis up and down and says, "C'mon in," before he swings the door all the way open.

"Hallo, Barney." Alis greets the man with a smile, then steps past him and into the house once the door's been opened. "How's his mood been?" She has no reservations whatsoever of trying to get this information from Cyril's manservant, though she also listens to the house before finally calling, "Cyril?"

"He's been…exercising alot. He's does that when he's angry. So…angry, I would guess. He hasn't really talked to me a lot." As Alis calls for Cyril, Barney nods to her and moves to sit back down on the couch in the foyer and read his paper. "What?" resonates through the foyer as Cyril calls out.

"Mm. Well, I'm sorry to say that I probably won't improve his mood." Alis nods after Barney, then moves through the foyer and in the general direction of where Cyril's shout originated. She raises her voice to call out, "I came to apologize."

Cyril has moved to the doorway of the kitchen and intercepts Alis. "Apologize for what, Alis?" He sips his coffee and sums her up with a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps for sneaking out and writing me off for a week or two? Whatever might give you the impression that that would require an apology?"

"I didn't sneak," Alis huffs in protest. "Just because you couldn't be bothered to wake up properly when I said I was going." A guilty expression flashes across her features, though. "I am sorry I haven't been in touch, though. I've been busy."

Cyril sips his coffee and says, "Fair enough. Apology accepted." With that, he turns and heads back into the kitchen where he sits down at the dining table, kicking a chair out for her, should she decide she wants to sit down, too.

Having anticipated more of an argument, Alis isn't entirely sure whether to be disappointed or relieved that she doesn't get one. She trails him into the kitchen, though, and settles in the chair he kicks out for her. "May I ask you something?"

Cyril looks across the table and says, "I imagine you're going to whether I give you permission or not, so shoot." He sips his coffee and looks expectantly to her before setting the cup down on the table.

"That's fair." Alis leans back in the chair, her hands folded on the table. "What were you really expecting, when you asked me to the ball? I mean, in the event that we'd actually turned up together?"

Good company. Someone with similar interest and who isn't to hard on the eyes." He rubs his nose and leans back in his chair, crossing his legs with a grunt. "Why do you ask?"

"Because Cassius insists that you intend to use me against him." Alis watching him carefully as she brings up his brother's name. "And while some of that can be attributed to his tendency to making everything about him, he does have a valid point."

Cyril furrows his brow and tilts his head, "Alis. Look at me. I'm a sad, old mercenary who can only occasionally work up the energy to screw a young woman raw. Do I really come off as a man who has an ulterior motive?" He shakes his head and sighs a bit, picking his coffee up for another sip before he says, "Though I'm not entirely surprised Cassius thinks I'm still up to my old tricks."

"My memory's not that bad, Cyril. There's nothing sad about you, nor is there anything wrong with your energy level." Alis smirks at him from across the table, then sobers. "What exactly did you do to insult him, anyway?"

Cyril shrugs at her and says, "Frankly, I haven't the faintest clue. He and Edwarlinda were arguing about something and I got involved. Cassius treated me like the brute he sees me. I believe it's because I took Edwarlinda's side." He shrugs and says, "I apologized to him, so I think we're on even ground again."

"If you were on even ground, he wouldn't be quite so opposed to my spending time in your presence," Alis points out. "Though he'd probably still object to my sharing your bed. Which is a pity, really."

Cyril nods and says, "I'm sure he just plans to keep you all to himself. Along with his other stable of women. Though the real pity is your inability to do anything outside of my brother's wishes, don't you think?"

"Oh, he's perfectly willing to share me with other men." Alis shrugs. "You're the exception, in that regard. And I am not a lapdog, or a trained pet, or a toy. I'm his friend, and he's mine." She sits up a little straighter. "I trust him, and he trusts me, and that trust is important to me."

"Oh, so you just don't care enough about me. Fair enough." He doesn't respond to her elevating of stature. He knows he can take her, no need to show it off. He tils his head to the side, in a 'what do you have to say to that' sort of way.

There's a brief flash of pain across Alis' expression at his words. "I like you, Cyril. Still. I don't trust you, though. Besides, you knew before anything ever happened between us that my loyalty belonged to your brother first. He's had it since I was thirteen, for Merlin's sake."

Cyril tightens his hand into a fist and looks across the table at her, "I'm still not entirely sure as to why you don't trust me. That was a long time ago, Alis." He stands up and pops his neck, walking to shout out the door, "Barney! Take a drive!"

"I know precisely how long it was, Cyril." Alis gets to her feet when he does, turning to watch him. "I was younger then, and more inclined to make poor judgments with regard to giving people my trust. You were the one who taught me the lesson that I really ought to be more careful, less trusting. Is it really such a surprise that I'm having difficulty extending that trust to you a second time?"

Cyril turns back around and leans on the doorframe, "Yes. It is a surprise. Seeing as I've done all that I can to try and build that trust back up in this short amount of time we've both been back. Though, I suppose I shouldn't expect you to make such a hasty change of heart." He sniffs and steps past Alis to pick his cup up and moves to pour more coffee into it.

"No, you shouldn't." Alis folds her arms over her chest, turning as he moves so that she can keep him in view at all times. "I had other lessons, after that first one, but I never forgot that one."

Cyril decides against more coffee and sets the cup down on the counter, moving to stand in front of Alis, "Look, I'm sorry, Alis. Honestly." He reaches up and softly takes her hands in his, saying, "It was never my intention to jade you towards me. I…I was young, stupid and out for myself when I met you. Just a silly adventurer with gold in his eyes." Quite literally.

Alis' hands are small, and rough from both wand and weapons use, but she allows him to take them. "I know it wasn't your intention, but it happened. We can't change the past, only go forward. My first loyalty, though, is to Cassius. I'm sorry if you disapprove, but it's the way things are. I can't betray his trust, and you're his brother. Would you really want me to?"

Cyril kisses one of her hands and says, "I don't know what I want, Alis. Not anymore. But I can tell you that I don't like this. It's like a punch to the ribs." He swallows a bit and lets her hands go, just looking down at her.

"I'd like to think we could be friends, at least," Alis tells him. "I do enjoy your company, and maybe with enough work I can learn to trust you again. There can't be anything more than that, though." She takes a step back, her expression solemn. "I'll let myself out, shall I?"

"Until I talk to my brother." He moves over to pick his coffee mug back up, his very grip causing a small fracture in the surface of the ceramic. He sniffs and says, "I imagine that would be a good idea, yes. It's cold out there, so take care."

"Just so long as you keep it limited to talking, please?" Alis manages a faint smile, backing toward the foyer. "You do the same, Cyril."

The brigand will wait for Alis to leave before he goes on a tear in his own house, taking his frustration out on furniture that begins to look more and more like Cassius' face as time goes by. He'll eventually have to be helped upstairs by Barney after taking one too many steps on that bad leg of his. He'll then make his way to the shower, where he'll spend the rest of the night picking pieces of ceramic out of his hand.

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