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"This is Amelia Steinbeck. If you are receiving this message, it means I'm not available right now. Please leave your message for me to get back to later."

*BEEP*

[Video/Voice/Text/Action]

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Then why bother keeping it near you? Is it not easier to simply be rid of the item?

I suppose you think these are strange questions. Forgive me, I'm simply trying to figure out where to place certain things.

[Figuratively and literally.]

I keep it with me because it's important.

[It's a simple reply, one that usually would be read as impatient and yet this was not the case right now. It was actually very melancholy in itself. She's finding it difficult to explain without divulging much more personal information. Not too far away from her, the glowing red rose in its glass orb glimmers on top of a bedside table. Most days it gave her peace to know that it was nearby and simply there.

There's a flickering ache all of a sudden.]

Edited 2012-02-14 07:52 (UTC)

[It's hard, through text, to judge the tone of words. It's easier for Loki to assume that it's a simplistic and obvious reply, than for him to make the mistake of assuming anything more poignant. He hesitates as he thinks of how to respond next.]

I see.

They're flowers, if you were wondering.

What kind and what color?

[Loki switches the feed to video for the sake of showing her the flowers, and Amelia will see a slightly tired God of Mischief, but not without a wry smile on his face. (A practised art, that.)]

See for yourself.

[He turns the guide in the direction of the flowers, which sit in the middle of a table.]

Ah. Hello there. [She nods at him and studies the flowers. Her eyes light up slightly because she really is fond of flowers. And she did say she liked gardening.]

Those are rather lovely. What was the occasion?

[The feed stays on the flowers while Loki speaks.]

There was none. My brother simply sent them to me, to tell me things he could never say out loud.

Edited 2012-02-14 08:28 (UTC)

[So the leaves in the fortune she gave him were not off the mark at all.]

I see.

You're not going to throw them away?

[On the contrary, they were quite accurate.]

I want to.

[And yet they're still there. He turns the feed back to face him, and he doesn't bother keeping his smile.]

You would think I would gravitate towards lies, wouldn't you? Being who I am. The Trickster, the Liesmith. But these? These, I just want to burn.

[She lets out a sigh, stands up, and puts her hands on her hips, thinking]

But you haven't.

[He's silent for a moment.]

No. I haven't; their sentiment, though misplaced, is... hard to ignore.

[He loves what lies they represent, but he hates the fact that's all they will ever be.]

What would you do, Amelia?

[PUT THEM IN GLASS ORBS FOREVER I mean no.]

You could turn those into something smaller, something more compact. [She snaps her fingers when an idea comes up]

Ah. You could make the flowers smaller and store them in a locket.

[He can't help but laugh a little jadedly at that.]

A locket? That seems more sentimental than their current form. And yet out of sight and out of mind...

[He seems to be considering it.]

I don't think the meaning would change except that you could keep it hidden away and out of sight like you just said.

Forgive me if I'm stepping over the line here, but if you haven't thrown those flowers away, it just means you still find something important concerning your relationship with your brother. Don't... throw it away.

... I'll stop there if you wish. I hope you consider the idea with the locket though.

Edited 2012-02-15 02:23 (UTC)

[He responds fairly quickly, though there's a certain detachment to his tone, and a faraway look to his features -- it's hard to tell if he's considering it or not.]

Important? Yes. But there are different kinds of important, as I'm sure you know. This is the type that perhaps rubs me the wrong way.

We'll see. Either way, I thank you for your advice.

[She decides not to push the matter any further. She already tried when telling his fortune. ]

You're welcome. I didn't mind at all.

[This was the truth. There's no hint of irritability or insincerity in her words.]

[He offers her a small grin -- just barely there, the corners of his lips curving upwards only slightly -- but there's the smallest hint of sincerity in it. For sincerity to not be coupled with a influx of unmanageable emotions is a rare thing for the God of Mischief.]

I'll leave you be, then. Until next time.

[And he ends the feed.]

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