Chachanji flustered a bit at the praise slowly piled upon him and his by the groundskeeper, feeling a quiet burning across his freckled cheeks that was of a different nature than the pink already placed there by the biting winds. His gaze flicked to Virara, though less out of concern for her trained response to the sudden movement, but more for perhaps a manner of support in changing the subject. Those violet eyes switched back to Sorimachi at that momentary wavering. Lalafellin ears were widely considered one of the sharpest on Hydaelyn, and the Gegenji child's was no less keen for having spent a life around the cacophonous din of the forge.
"A-ah, 'm not all tha' charmin'..." he managed, an awkward segue from the Hyur's commentary on the Coordinator. "Though, 'm sure Mama'd be pleased by th' compliments. 'n Papa's always been pretty proud'a 'is beard... o-oh, but 's good tha' ya enjoy gardenin' 'n stuff. Always nice ta have a hobby, moreso if'n ya get ta do it as part'a yer job."
The short Lalafell quieted again as they approached the manor proper, though he let out a little noise of surprise as one of the first frigid drops of rain splattered against the broad brim of his hat. When the groundskeeper hurried them under cover to avoid the rest, he proffered no argument - the weather was already brusque enough without being soaked to the bone besides. He still took a moment to doff his puffy hat - exposing his unkempt mass of ivory-frosted jade curls to the elements - and shake off what raindrops had still managed to alight themselves upon it in their hurried exodus from the open air. Another curious glance was cast betwixt factor and friend at the tossing of the cloak, fixating more on the former with another minute fluster at the bow.
A fluster that faded sharply into confusion when Virara was barred entry.
"W-wait, we're here t'gether, y'know? We're 'ere jus' as much fer 'er as fer me.. if'n not a bit moreso," he offered, glancing between the two as he motioned to the taller Lalafell for emphasis. He wasn't exactly the most mentally adept individual, so he continued motioning idly between Virara and himself as he tried to formulate some sort of idea or reasoning to allow his companion to enter alongside him. "I-I mean, can't she be like me... I 'unno... 'plus one' 'r whatever? Or at th' very least let 'er in so she ain't out 'ere in th' cold?"
His gaze flicked back to Virara at that quiet utterance, that single word - a single letter - that slipped from her lips at her denial. Her face was set in its usual, unreadable placidity, but she was one that Chachanji had spent much time with. As a friend, as a training partner, even - at times - as an opponent. So even the smallest twitches were as glaring signals to his eyes.
Even discounting his natural empathy, he immediately noted the grinding teeth that quietly flowed into the biting of the lip, the near-unreadable confusion and indignation hidden in her eyes that led to the drooping of her shoulders. Small, nearly unnoticeable things that each tugged insistently at the boy's heartstrings as he noticed them. It all built to one simple resolution: he couldn't, he wouldn't leave her out here alone. Not after coming this far together.
"I ain't leavin' 'er behind," he stated, a sudden firmness creeping into his tone and slowly building as he continued. "If'n yer Coordinator knows as much as ya say 'e does, then 'e'd know I ain't one to leave anyone behind... 'specially not a friend. Never a friend."
He looked back at Virara, then to Sorimachi. The stuttering, the timidness and sheepishness had all but drained away at this point. As if sapped from him by the groundskeeper's actions and Virara's reactions like the dreary chill continued to sap at their warmth even while out from beneath the icy rain. Violet, reflective orbs pierced into the Hyur's as the incessant drum of the rain continued to build around them.
"Let 'im know if'n ya hafta, but Chachanji Gegenji 'n Virara Wakuwa'r both 'ere ta meet wit 'im."
"A-ah, 'm not all tha' charmin'..." he managed, an awkward segue from the Hyur's commentary on the Coordinator. "Though, 'm sure Mama'd be pleased by th' compliments. 'n Papa's always been pretty proud'a 'is beard... o-oh, but 's good tha' ya enjoy gardenin' 'n stuff. Always nice ta have a hobby, moreso if'n ya get ta do it as part'a yer job."
The short Lalafell quieted again as they approached the manor proper, though he let out a little noise of surprise as one of the first frigid drops of rain splattered against the broad brim of his hat. When the groundskeeper hurried them under cover to avoid the rest, he proffered no argument - the weather was already brusque enough without being soaked to the bone besides. He still took a moment to doff his puffy hat - exposing his unkempt mass of ivory-frosted jade curls to the elements - and shake off what raindrops had still managed to alight themselves upon it in their hurried exodus from the open air. Another curious glance was cast betwixt factor and friend at the tossing of the cloak, fixating more on the former with another minute fluster at the bow.
A fluster that faded sharply into confusion when Virara was barred entry.
"W-wait, we're here t'gether, y'know? We're 'ere jus' as much fer 'er as fer me.. if'n not a bit moreso," he offered, glancing between the two as he motioned to the taller Lalafell for emphasis. He wasn't exactly the most mentally adept individual, so he continued motioning idly between Virara and himself as he tried to formulate some sort of idea or reasoning to allow his companion to enter alongside him. "I-I mean, can't she be like me... I 'unno... 'plus one' 'r whatever? Or at th' very least let 'er in so she ain't out 'ere in th' cold?"
His gaze flicked back to Virara at that quiet utterance, that single word - a single letter - that slipped from her lips at her denial. Her face was set in its usual, unreadable placidity, but she was one that Chachanji had spent much time with. As a friend, as a training partner, even - at times - as an opponent. So even the smallest twitches were as glaring signals to his eyes.
Even discounting his natural empathy, he immediately noted the grinding teeth that quietly flowed into the biting of the lip, the near-unreadable confusion and indignation hidden in her eyes that led to the drooping of her shoulders. Small, nearly unnoticeable things that each tugged insistently at the boy's heartstrings as he noticed them. It all built to one simple resolution: he couldn't, he wouldn't leave her out here alone. Not after coming this far together.
"I ain't leavin' 'er behind," he stated, a sudden firmness creeping into his tone and slowly building as he continued. "If'n yer Coordinator knows as much as ya say 'e does, then 'e'd know I ain't one to leave anyone behind... 'specially not a friend. Never a friend."
He looked back at Virara, then to Sorimachi. The stuttering, the timidness and sheepishness had all but drained away at this point. As if sapped from him by the groundskeeper's actions and Virara's reactions like the dreary chill continued to sap at their warmth even while out from beneath the icy rain. Violet, reflective orbs pierced into the Hyur's as the incessant drum of the rain continued to build around them.
"Let 'im know if'n ya hafta, but Chachanji Gegenji 'n Virara Wakuwa'r both 'ere ta meet wit 'im."
~