... Don't worry about it. I'm just getting carried away.
( Yuri sighs at Bernadetta's confusion, if only because it serves as a grim reminder that even as a child, he was extraordinarily good at his job. Spinning fantasies, offering illusions, picking just the right tone in which to tell a person exactly what they want to hear ... Yuri has been able to do all that and more from far too early an age. Bernadetta was supposed to be one of his easier assignments: how could a frightened young girl possibly be more of a challenge than a self-serving politician, or a lecherous creep?
Kind of ironic, really, that all she had to do was be herself β the realisation of which leaves him feeling even more filthy than the last time he cast eyes on Dorothea. He's fortunate that Bernadetta chooses that moment to turn the conversation away from that gloomy sinkhole: )
"A man?" ( Yeah, that'll do. Yuri raises a manicured eyebrow. ) Huh.
( The implication is clearly that Bernadetta doesn't know who the person in her new home is, and while Yuri knows he has no right to make it any of his business? He's all too aware of how little it takes to nudge Bernadetta into shrieking and running away. If they aren't the patient type, or don't know how to talk to people as consumed with anxiety as she is ... )
Well, if you're set on staying there, I could always come over and have a little chat with him?
( You know, Bernadetta. A chat. Considering they've all been told what's expected of them, and they've all been told the various different ways they can produce Manna, Yuri has no qualms being the annoying older brother in ensuring this "man" doesn't try to take any liberties. A blithe smile touches his lips, gentle and sweet: )
You know, just to let him know that you have friends here who're looking out for you.
( And that he'll slit his throat without batting a kohl-lined eyelid should Bernadetta level so much as a huff of complaint against him. Yuri owes her that much, at least. )
[Goddess be praised, was that a joke? The faint, slightly self-deprecating curve to her mouth indicates yes, she;s at least trying.
She fidgets, slightly, because she at least knows his name but a tiny voice at the back of her mind is telling her to tread lightly here, for some reason. She senses danger, but doesn't know enough to pin it to her perfect long lost friend or realize just who it's aimed at. Kaeya is intensely Yuri-like in quite a few ways, so the sparks that meeting might set loose could go in just about any direction.]
Um, y... you're welcome to visit!
[It bursts out of her, an offer stewed with more than a decade of wishing things had been different. When she's calmer, the doubts will creep in, the self-blame, the thought that she's not worthy of his time any more.
But then.
Then he goes and says that and she tears up again.]
Do Iβcan... is... is it really, really okay? F-For me to still call you that?
( It is a joke, and one that shifts the tilt of Yuri's lips into something wry. He'll take it, okay? A joke surely means she's feeling slightly more comfortable in his presence, and right now he's willing to let himself take the little wins. )
I'm welcome to visit, that's gotta make us friends β right? So yeah, it's okay.
( A little mischief flickers across his smile, disguising any discomfort he might have about throwing around the term "friends" with someone he wholeheartedly betrayed. How can he explain that it's more complicated than mere friendship? That he'll never deserve such a thing, and that he's confronted with the reasons why every time he looks at her? )
And how about this: I'll even take you up on that offer. Perhaps we could do dinner? You might know me as a gardener, but that doesn't make me any less of an excellent cook.
( Better to let her continue thinking they can go back to those hazy days in her father's gardens. If it means that he can begin to atone for what he's done? So be it. )
[Her shoulders heave for a moment, just once, and it could be the start of something tragic and tiresome again as she presses a palm to her face, but after a moment it drops, and it isn't tragic at all. Or at least, not much.
She looks up again and sure, her eyes are a little damp, but she smiles. She smiles, and it's not one that any person who ever knew her in Garreg Mach in any timeline would recognize; it's not a smile anyone but Yuri has seen in years and years, light and bright and giddy, soft and bursting with adoration at the very seams.
It's a smile previously consigned to those hazy garden days. A smile just for her one and only friend, back then.]
...yeah. Y-Yeah. ...I'd really, really like thatβ
[βand then she manages to successfully say the name she knew him by, this time, and he should probably update her on that front unless he wants things to get... awkward, later on.]
I've, um, I've cooked a little bit! It's kind of... they don't have noa fruit or peach currents, and the wines and cheeses all have different names, but, um, the food here is good and, and easy to work with.
(Michail. It's a name Yuri put to rest years ago; one he never thought he'd have to hear again now that that chapter of his life is firmly behind him. it twists something ugly into his stomach β hatred for Bernadetta's father, hatred for himself, shame for the things he's done in order to survive β but instead of letting it show on his face, he merely offers a little shake of his head. )
I'm Yuri, now. Yuri Leclerc. I was adopted by Count Rowe after my time as a gardener, and I figured I needed pretty new name to match my pretty face.
( He offers a wink, playing it off as something casual that needn't be questioned too hard. There is, however, the small matter of Claude von Riegan's presence in this place, who he'd really rather not find out about his history as a professional liar. That's the kind of thing that causes problems within professional relationships. )
... It's better that people don't know about my other name. I don't wanna confuse people, you know? They might end up getting the wrong idea about me.
( Also known as the right idea about him, but that's neither here nor there. Yuri chuckles softly as he continues: )
But we can talk about that over some of those wines and cheeses sometime.
[Oh, he certainly doesn't have to fear much about the like Claude von Riegan casting stones over lying and having Bernadetta play accidental secret keeper for him, at this point.]
...Yuri. Yuri. Yuuu-rii.
[Still, she does her best to imprint the name in her mouth. It's... it's easier than it should be, if only because even just saying Michail had felt more sacrilegious than taking the Goddess's name in vain over the years.]
I-I'll do my best not to mess up. ...um, but... o-one of my friends... the, uh, the first one after you, I-I sort of... told her about what happened to you, once. Is that, um... sh-should I pretend we... we aren't friends, in front of other people?
[Is Yuri's trauma prepared to handle just who the first person to follow in his footsteps is?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
... Don't worry about it. I'm just getting carried away.
( Yuri sighs at Bernadetta's confusion, if only because it serves as a grim reminder that even as a child, he was extraordinarily good at his job. Spinning fantasies, offering illusions, picking just the right tone in which to tell a person exactly what they want to hear ... Yuri has been able to do all that and more from far too early an age. Bernadetta was supposed to be one of his easier assignments: how could a frightened young girl possibly be more of a challenge than a self-serving politician, or a lecherous creep?
Kind of ironic, really, that all she had to do was be herself β the realisation of which leaves him feeling even more filthy than the last time he cast eyes on Dorothea. He's fortunate that Bernadetta chooses that moment to turn the conversation away from that gloomy sinkhole: )
"A man?" ( Yeah, that'll do. Yuri raises a manicured eyebrow. ) Huh.
( The implication is clearly that Bernadetta doesn't know who the person in her new home is, and while Yuri knows he has no right to make it any of his business? He's all too aware of how little it takes to nudge Bernadetta into shrieking and running away. If they aren't the patient type, or don't know how to talk to people as consumed with anxiety as she is ... )
Well, if you're set on staying there, I could always come over and have a little chat with him?
( You know, Bernadetta. A chat. Considering they've all been told what's expected of them, and they've all been told the various different ways they can produce Manna, Yuri has no qualms being the annoying older brother in ensuring this "man" doesn't try to take any liberties. A blithe smile touches his lips, gentle and sweet: )
You know, just to let him know that you have friends here who're looking out for you.
( And that he'll slit his throat without batting a kohl-lined eyelid should Bernadetta level so much as a huff of complaint against him. Yuri owes her that much, at least. )
no subject
[Goddess be praised, was that a joke? The faint, slightly self-deprecating curve to her mouth indicates yes, she;s at least trying.
She fidgets, slightly, because she at least knows his name but a tiny voice at the back of her mind is telling her to tread lightly here, for some reason. She senses danger, but doesn't know enough to pin it to her perfect long lost friend or realize just who it's aimed at. Kaeya is intensely Yuri-like in quite a few ways, so the sparks that meeting might set loose could go in just about any direction.]
Um, y... you're welcome to visit!
[It bursts out of her, an offer stewed with more than a decade of wishing things had been different. When she's calmer, the doubts will creep in, the self-blame, the thought that she's not worthy of his time any more.
But then.
Then he goes and says that and she tears up again.]
Do Iβcan... is... is it really, really okay? F-For me to still call you that?
no subject
( It is a joke, and one that shifts the tilt of Yuri's lips into something wry. He'll take it, okay? A joke surely means she's feeling slightly more comfortable in his presence, and right now he's willing to let himself take the little wins. )
I'm welcome to visit, that's gotta make us friends β right? So yeah, it's okay.
( A little mischief flickers across his smile, disguising any discomfort he might have about throwing around the term "friends" with someone he wholeheartedly betrayed. How can he explain that it's more complicated than mere friendship? That he'll never deserve such a thing, and that he's confronted with the reasons why every time he looks at her? )
And how about this: I'll even take you up on that offer. Perhaps we could do dinner? You might know me as a gardener, but that doesn't make me any less of an excellent cook.
( Better to let her continue thinking they can go back to those hazy days in her father's gardens. If it means that he can begin to atone for what he's done? So be it. )
no subject
She looks up again and sure, her eyes are a little damp, but she smiles. She smiles, and it's not one that any person who ever knew her in Garreg Mach in any timeline would recognize; it's not a smile anyone but Yuri has seen in years and years, light and bright and giddy, soft and bursting with adoration at the very seams.
It's a smile previously consigned to those hazy garden days. A smile just for her one and only friend, back then.]
...yeah. Y-Yeah. ...I'd really, really like thatβ
[βand then she manages to successfully say the name she knew him by, this time, and he should probably update her on that front unless he wants things to get... awkward, later on.]
I've, um, I've cooked a little bit! It's kind of... they don't have noa fruit or peach currents, and the wines and cheeses all have different names, but, um, the food here is good and, and easy to work with.
no subject
( Michail. It's a name Yuri put to rest years ago; one he never thought he'd have to hear again now that that chapter of his life is firmly behind him. it twists something ugly into his stomach β hatred for Bernadetta's father, hatred for himself, shame for the things he's done in order to survive β but instead of letting it show on his face, he merely offers a little shake of his head. )
I'm Yuri, now. Yuri Leclerc. I was adopted by Count Rowe after my time as a gardener, and I figured I needed pretty new name to match my pretty face.
( He offers a wink, playing it off as something casual that needn't be questioned too hard. There is, however, the small matter of Claude von Riegan's presence in this place, who he'd really rather not find out about his history as a professional liar. That's the kind of thing that causes problems within professional relationships. )
... It's better that people don't know about my other name. I don't wanna confuse people, you know? They might end up getting the wrong idea about me.
( Also known as the right idea about him, but that's neither here nor there. Yuri chuckles softly as he continues: )
But we can talk about that over some of those wines and cheeses sometime.
no subject
[Oh, he certainly doesn't have to fear much about the like Claude von Riegan casting stones over lying and having Bernadetta play accidental secret keeper for him, at this point.]
...Yuri. Yuri. Yuuu-rii.
[Still, she does her best to imprint the name in her mouth. It's... it's easier than it should be, if only because even just saying Michail had felt more sacrilegious than taking the Goddess's name in vain over the years.]
I-I'll do my best not to mess up. ...um, but... o-one of my friends... the, uh, the first one after you, I-I sort of... told her about what happened to you, once. Is that, um... sh-should I pretend we... we aren't friends, in front of other people?
[Is Yuri's trauma prepared to handle just who the first person to follow in his footsteps is?]