"Yes," he says, and has to forcibly close his mouth before the ma'am comes out after it. This is good, comforting, familiar, after a very peculiar sort of day. He hangs his hat and ties on his apron - and washes his hands.
Just some good, simple work. He needs it; it's grounding.
He makes a start with the potatoes, and it's good, it's easy - something familiar and useful and mundane to do with his hands. He falls into a well-practiced rhythm, taking only the barest slivers necessary, wasting nothing.
"The Admiral returned his magic, and -- he said it was better to do it with someone else."
"He just - put something on my forehead," he says, still rather taken with
the utmost simplicity of it. "And it happened. I thought it would be
strange, or confusing, that I wouldn't know what to do, but it wasn't like
that at all."
"He's a good person," she agrees, sitting back now to go back to peeling to potatoes. "Enthusiastic. A little bookish." But she thinks Credence likes that, too.
"What do you read, apart from the Bible?" She wonders, wanting to get him
talking a little more as they work. It's so much easier to talk when your
hands are busy.
"It's..." She thinks as she peels, drops the potatoes into the layer of water. "It's a book that I grew up with. Something very important to me, about the way I think about the world."
"About the things you're - " He drops his voice, already quiet, to the
barest whisper. Even though there's nobody around to hear them. "About
the things you're fighting to make better?"
She smiles, thankful for the fact that he knows to be quiet about this, and truly a little endeared. "Exactly that. Almost everyone knows it, where I'm from."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-01-10 08:18 pm (UTC)Just some good, simple work. He needs it; it's grounding.
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Date: 2017-01-10 10:03 pm (UTC)"So," she says, then smiles at him. "A fox."
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Date: 2017-01-10 10:14 pm (UTC)He makes a start with the potatoes, and it's good, it's easy - something familiar and useful and mundane to do with his hands. He falls into a well-practiced rhythm, taking only the barest slivers necessary, wasting nothing.
"The Admiral returned his magic, and -- he said it was better to do it with someone else."
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Date: 2017-01-11 12:08 pm (UTC)"How did he do it?"
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Date: 2017-01-11 12:14 pm (UTC)"He just - put something on my forehead," he says, still rather taken with the utmost simplicity of it. "And it happened. I thought it would be strange, or confusing, that I wouldn't know what to do, but it wasn't like that at all."
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Date: 2017-01-11 12:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-11 01:00 pm (UTC)"It was..."
Animals can't speak. They don't think like humans do. So it's exceptionally hard to put into words, except:
"It wasn't like anything else I've ever experienced before. It was wonderful."
If giving himself up to the Obscurus is becoming anger and fear and pain, then the fox was curiosity and affection and joy.
Being Credence again, that's the hard part.
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Date: 2017-01-11 08:28 pm (UTC)"You should see those things. Things that make you remember how wonderful they were."
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Date: 2017-01-11 08:53 pm (UTC)"I'm glad I was able to - to give him something he needed."
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Date: 2017-01-11 08:55 pm (UTC)"He sounds like he needed that," she agrees. "Will you do it again?"
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Date: 2017-01-11 09:08 pm (UTC)He doesn't think he can ask himself - it's Quentin's magic, after all. And if he asks once, well, he doesn't know that he'd be able to stop.
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Date: 2017-01-13 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-13 09:22 am (UTC)There's a long silence, and then a tiny little nod. Yes. It was hard. It was very hard.
"I..."
It's such a small thing to say, and yet he can't remember the last time he honestly asserted an opinion..
"I like him."
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Date: 2017-01-13 09:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-13 09:35 am (UTC)Credence follows suit, a little guilty for having abandoned his work in pursuit of idle chatter.
"I don't mind that. I read a lot as well."
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Date: 2017-01-13 09:39 am (UTC)"What do you read, apart from the Bible?" She wonders, wanting to get him talking a little more as they work. It's so much easier to talk when your hands are busy.
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Date: 2017-01-13 09:50 am (UTC)"Books of sermons," he murmurs. "Reflections on the Scripture."
The art books Annie gave him are still under his bed. He hasn't dared to touch them since.
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Date: 2017-01-13 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-13 10:34 am (UTC)"I - no, ma'am. Elizabeth." He must stop doing that, he chastises himself. "I wouldn't mind. What - what sort of thing?"
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Date: 2017-01-13 10:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-13 10:49 am (UTC)"About the things you're - " He drops his voice, already quiet, to the barest whisper. Even though there's nobody around to hear them. "About the things you're fighting to make better?"
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Date: 2017-01-13 10:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-13 11:00 am (UTC)"Then -- yes. I'd like to read about that."
It certainly seems safer than Annie's books about raw emotional expression. He's not sure how he'll handle those, which is why he isn't trying.
"I...I want to understand."
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Date: 2017-01-13 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-13 11:10 am (UTC)The smile as he turns to pick up another potato from the pile is tiny, and fleeting, and not really aimed at her - but it's there.