[The sheer volume and boisterous nature of her laughter is enough to make Richard's eyes widen from surprise. The tones down his reaction quickly and watches the woman to get it out of her system. This is now second time he sees such reaction from her. Though this time he's not entirely sure what the laughter is aimed at.]
Mm. [There is a slight tug on his lip and he looks back down at the cup on his hands.] You talked about her with such fondness. That is all.
[But... supposedly, he could agree with her. Maybe. They say that motherhood is the true calling of a woman, the sole reason they were put on the earth. To serve as companion to men and provide a heir. But maybe, just maybe. There were some that weren't meant to be mothers? Richard thinks of his own mother, the woman who had tried his best to isolate and kill him. But then again, she had adored his older brothers.
Richard falls quiet, the expression on his face turns thoughtful and solemn.]
[ Even morose and glum about the outcome of their A.I. rescue mission, Root doesn't shy away from humor; she feels all of her feelings to the fullest extent. She finally succeeds in taking a sip of her coffee, riled emotions settling down gradually. ]
Please, we don't need relationship labels to care about someone. [ Root's aware this is probably a foreign concept to someone from his century, but to be fair, it's a foreign concept to a lot of people from her century, too. She's just always been a bit of an anarchist this way. ]
Try your coffee while it's hot. A lot of people put milk or sugar in it, but you should taste it alone first.
[Excuse you, Root. You can't just drop something like that on his lap and expect him not to go through massive mental gymnastics to have it make sense in his little brain. Prone to shutting down and withdrawing to his own mind, Richard falls silent again as he mulls over what she said.
Yeah. Such.. social anarchism is very much new to him. There are something about her that reminds Richard from the witch he used to know. Jane, the lady who had made previous king and his court into fools with a single drink, who celebrated her body proudly and openly -- claiming to be loyal to no one but herself. Jane, who is his prisoner, left to rot in the cell in the dungeon.
But! Root's encouragement to try out the warm drink in his hand is more simpler than sorting out his own thoughts. So, he does as she suggests and raises the cup to his lips, taking a sip.
The taste is.. well, something he's never had before. The strong, almost overwhelming bitterness of it makes Richard grimace at first. But, he does not hesitate to go for second taste -- this time taking a bigger gulp of the hot beverage. After a brief struggle he manages to swallow the liquid and settles the cup back down on the table.
[ Meanwhile, Root has no idea her idle comment was so thought-provoking, so she lets the conversation lapse in favor of what they're ostensibly here to do: introduce Richard to coffee. That's about what she'd expected his reaction to be, so she smiles but doesn't laugh. She just nudges over a little carafe of milk. ]
Now try it with milk, [ she suggests. ] Most people drink it that way.
[Yeahh, silent moments like these were pretty common with Richard. He already had troubles with deciphering what was true and what not, trying to fight his way out of witch's curse that would twist and turn his sense of reality. And all these challenging and difficult ideas that the individuals in this world kept proposing to him did not really help his case.
Like this 'coffee.' Richard had picked up by now that it was indeed something that majority of the people would drink as a treat. So, far he failed to see the appeal of it. Now, he could withstand even the foulest ale and most bitter wine, but at least those had the benefit of getting him drunk. Something that coffee failed to do.
But! He's not going to give up just yet and does as Root instructs. He picks up the small porcelain carafe and pours milk on his cup. Though.. he might just add little bit too much of it? The color turns from black to light creamy brown as he fills the cup almost to the brim. He then picks up the cup again, brings it to his lips and takes another sip.
Huh, what do you know. The taste improved greatly. The expression on Richard's face softens a little.]
[ Root doesn't mind being the one carrying the conversation in the slightest, though she isn't prone to dominating it, either. She's comfortable with there being lulls, more introspective moments. She doesn't need continual feedback to feel present and seen.
She can't help but smile a little more widely at his improved opinion. ]
There's sugar, too. Some people drink it as sweet as a dessert. [ Root shrugs, drinking her own black coffee again. ] Personally, I like it all ways, but I've never been picky.
[Richard's eyes quickly glanced down at the sugar cup on the table right next to the milk and coffee. He has had few encounters with this sweet, white powdered crystal ever since coming to this world. Now, while Richard had soft spot for sweet foods such as strawberries, he still wasn't sure what were his opinions with this 'sugar', as he found it rather overwhelming at times.
Though, he can see why one would have coffee as a treat -- especially when the taste could be modified and softened.
Richard places the cup back on the table, warming his gloved fingers around it. He then raises his mismatched eyes to look Root again. This time there's a glint of interest in his gaze.]
[ Oh, personal questions for her? Root doesn't get these too often, and it's even more rare for her to answer. But there's really no reason not to, if she's going to be stuck in a computer simulation with a bunch of other people for, potentially, forever. (She is not sold on the idea that you can 'download' a simulated consciousness back into an organic body... and isn't sure she'd want to be if she could.)
It takes her a moment to respond as she runs through all these musing philosophical thoughts in her head first. ]
People. I'm very picky about people. Most of us are just so disappointing.
[Considering how easily Richard goes silent himself, he's hardly in any position to demand fast answers. So, he waits patiently for Root to form her thoughts enough to give out her answer.
And once she's done Richard only scoffs in amusement at her estimation. Well, he can agree with her sentiment.]
You are quite correct on that. People are nothing but foolish and boring, predictable and ridiculous.
['Nobody made us this way.' That is a sentiment that Richard directly disagrees with. It is entirely because humans were made to be certain way that they're so disappointing and predictable. They were all bound by the ridiculous rules of a higher power, following the script and bending to their fates. Only those who were bold enough to step outside of that rule and craft their own destinies.
But seeing that Root had laughed the last time he had brought up his thoughts on the matter Richard decides to stay quiet.]
[ Hey, she'd said she knew that would seem heretical, but Root doesn't have the patience to couch things for someone she's having an honest conversation with. In a weird way it's how she shows respect, but it's also a sorting mechanism, a way of quickly discovering who can and can't deal with her when she's being herself. As opposed to any one of the endlessly rotating identities the Machine gives her. ]
That would be my boss, the Machine. The A.I. at home I spoke of before. [ And Root clearly has tremendous affection for her. ]
[You know. He really shouldn't be so surprised by her answers, considering just how highly and affectionately she spoke of the AI in this world, but here he was. Richard raises his brows in curiosity as he looks at Root, raising the cup to take sip of the now-lukewarm liquid.
Richard's not really sure what to think of such proclamation. Well, mostly because he still failed to wrap his head around the whole concept behind the AI. Junpei had likened it to be similar to a spirit, and Root clearly thought it to be higher power than a human.]
So, you are servant of a greater being?
[Somehow her previous dismissive attitude towards the idea of God appeared funny. Not when her own position appeared to be closer to a nun than of an ordinary woman.]
I can understand why mortals would be boring in comparison.
[ Root beams at him, glad he understands. She wouldn't necessarily mind the comparison to being a nun, funny though it is to apply that kind of label to herself with the amount of people she's killed and is utterly unrepentant about.
As for the double standard -- well, her god is far superior, of course. Root isn't going to get caught in the conversational trap of arguing about it, because she doesn't need to. The Machine is just obviously better. ]
Normally she speaks to me directly. All the time. [ Root lifts a hand and touches her right ear, or rather, just behind it. There's a cochlear implant hidden in the waves of her hair. ]
Really. You are starting to sound like a bride of Christ.
[He then takes another sip from the drink. And as he swallows the liquid he notices a.. strange feeling spreading to his body. There's light tightening of his chest as his heart begins to beat harder within it's cage, twitching feeling in his fingertips and just overall.. bizarre restlessness.
It's slightly distracting, for sure, but nothing that he couldn't handle. Yet.]
Then what kind of words does your leader whisper to your ear then? Commands? Words of encouragement? Endearments? Commands and curses?
[ She rankles a little from the snickering, from being called a bride of Christ -- an old term for a nun, probably, but it has a certain inflection here-- but Root can handle a lot of skepticism and mockery aimed at her. She's used to it, so it rarely touches her anymore. But even the slightest edge of that same tone aimed at the Machine gets her guard up fiercely.
Root subtly straightens in her seat, leans back, makes direct eye contact with a suddenly flattened affect and a gleam of challenge. ]
Mostly she tells me not to kill people who doubt her.
[Oh. So his little comment did ruffle some of her feathers. How interesting. She had so openly expressed opposition towards his faith and world view, yet seemingly safeguarded hers. Well, he supposes that will only go along with the cultist mindset.]
Does she? How very benign of her. Perhaps mine should follow her example then, hm? Men of my land do tend to spill a quite lot of blood in god's name.
[ There's a full second as Root decides how she's going to take this, and then she shrugs and wraps her hands around her coffee mug, once again fully casual. ]
Like I said, I want something better.
[ It is like Root's in a cult... a cult of one, whose leader never sought any followers. ]
Humanity's always been disappointing. I gave up on finding answers there a long time ago.
[Well, for all intents and purposes, what Root has going on for her does sound nothing short of a cult to Richard. But then again, who is he to judge? He's had to come to accept that this world is full of people who come from what bizarre worlds and strange religions. Well, at least it kept things more interesting than back at home, not being able to know exactly what to expect from The Chosen.
Richard lifts his coffee cup again, the strange nervousness in his body, having to focus from keeping his fingers twitching.] I can't blame you for that.
Well then. To your leader. May her kindness and forgiveness to be inspiration to all of us. [He says as he makes a toast and then brings the cup back to his lips, drinking the rest of the lukewarm liquid in one go.]
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Mm. [There is a slight tug on his lip and he looks back down at the cup on his hands.] You talked about her with such fondness. That is all.
[But... supposedly, he could agree with her. Maybe. They say that motherhood is the true calling of a woman, the sole reason they were put on the earth. To serve as companion to men and provide a heir. But maybe, just maybe. There were some that weren't meant to be mothers? Richard thinks of his own mother, the woman who had tried his best to isolate and kill him. But then again, she had adored his older brothers.
Richard falls quiet, the expression on his face turns thoughtful and solemn.]
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Please, we don't need relationship labels to care about someone. [ Root's aware this is probably a foreign concept to someone from his century, but to be fair, it's a foreign concept to a lot of people from her century, too. She's just always been a bit of an anarchist this way. ]
Try your coffee while it's hot. A lot of people put milk or sugar in it, but you should taste it alone first.
no subject
Yeah. Such.. social anarchism is very much new to him. There are something about her that reminds Richard from the witch he used to know. Jane, the lady who had made previous king and his court into fools with a single drink, who celebrated her body proudly and openly -- claiming to be loyal to no one but herself. Jane, who is his prisoner, left to rot in the cell in the dungeon.
But! Root's encouragement to try out the warm drink in his hand is more simpler than sorting out his own thoughts. So, he does as she suggests and raises the cup to his lips, taking a sip.
The taste is.. well, something he's never had before. The strong, almost overwhelming bitterness of it makes Richard grimace at first. But, he does not hesitate to go for second taste -- this time taking a bigger gulp of the hot beverage. After a brief struggle he manages to swallow the liquid and settles the cup back down on the table.
See? He did it.]
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Now try it with milk, [ she suggests. ] Most people drink it that way.
no subject
Like this 'coffee.' Richard had picked up by now that it was indeed something that majority of the people would drink as a treat. So, far he failed to see the appeal of it. Now, he could withstand even the foulest ale and most bitter wine, but at least those had the benefit of getting him drunk. Something that coffee failed to do.
But! He's not going to give up just yet and does as Root instructs. He picks up the small porcelain carafe and pours milk on his cup. Though.. he might just add little bit too much of it? The color turns from black to light creamy brown as he fills the cup almost to the brim. He then picks up the cup again, brings it to his lips and takes another sip.
Huh, what do you know. The taste improved greatly. The expression on Richard's face softens a little.]
It is more agreeable like this, yes.
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She can't help but smile a little more widely at his improved opinion. ]
There's sugar, too. Some people drink it as sweet as a dessert. [ Root shrugs, drinking her own black coffee again. ] Personally, I like it all ways, but I've never been picky.
About food, at least.
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Though, he can see why one would have coffee as a treat -- especially when the taste could be modified and softened.
Richard places the cup back on the table, warming his gloved fingers around it. He then raises his mismatched eyes to look Root again. This time there's a glint of interest in his gaze.]
Then what are you picky about?
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It takes her a moment to respond as she runs through all these musing philosophical thoughts in her head first. ]
People. I'm very picky about people. Most of us are just so disappointing.
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And once she's done Richard only scoffs in amusement at her estimation. Well, he can agree with her sentiment.]
You are quite correct on that. People are nothing but foolish and boring, predictable and ridiculous.
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[ She smiles a little and sips her coffee again. ]
I don't blame them for it; I just want something better.
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But seeing that Root had laughed the last time he had brought up his thoughts on the matter Richard decides to stay quiet.]
And what is this 'better' you speak of?
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That would be my boss, the Machine. The A.I. at home I spoke of before. [ And Root clearly has tremendous affection for her. ]
no subject
Richard's not really sure what to think of such proclamation. Well, mostly because he still failed to wrap his head around the whole concept behind the AI. Junpei had likened it to be similar to a spirit, and Root clearly thought it to be higher power than a human.]
So, you are servant of a greater being?
[Somehow her previous dismissive attitude towards the idea of God appeared funny. Not when her own position appeared to be closer to a nun than of an ordinary woman.]
I can understand why mortals would be boring in comparison.
no subject
[ Root beams at him, glad he understands. She wouldn't necessarily mind the comparison to being a nun, funny though it is to apply that kind of label to herself with the amount of people she's killed and is utterly unrepentant about.
As for the double standard -- well, her god is far superior, of course. Root isn't going to get caught in the conversational trap of arguing about it, because she doesn't need to. The Machine is just obviously better. ]
Normally she speaks to me directly. All the time. [ Root lifts a hand and touches her right ear, or rather, just behind it. There's a cochlear implant hidden in the waves of her hair. ]
no subject
Really. You are starting to sound like a bride of Christ.
[He then takes another sip from the drink. And as he swallows the liquid he notices a.. strange feeling spreading to his body. There's light tightening of his chest as his heart begins to beat harder within it's cage, twitching feeling in his fingertips and just overall.. bizarre restlessness.
It's slightly distracting, for sure, but nothing that he couldn't handle. Yet.]
Then what kind of words does your leader whisper to your ear then? Commands? Words of encouragement? Endearments? Commands and curses?
no subject
Root subtly straightens in her seat, leans back, makes direct eye contact with a suddenly flattened affect and a gleam of challenge. ]
Mostly she tells me not to kill people who doubt her.
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Does she? How very benign of her. Perhaps mine should follow her example then, hm? Men of my land do tend to spill a quite lot of blood in god's name.
no subject
Like I said, I want something better.
[ It is like Root's in a cult... a cult of one, whose leader never sought any followers. ]
Humanity's always been disappointing. I gave up on finding answers there a long time ago.
no subject
Richard lifts his coffee cup again, the strange nervousness in his body, having to focus from keeping his fingers twitching.] I can't blame you for that.
Well then. To your leader. May her kindness and forgiveness to be inspiration to all of us. [He says as he makes a toast and then brings the cup back to his lips, drinking the rest of the lukewarm liquid in one go.]