[ Just the person Royce wanted to see. That is to say nothing about the Transistor, let's be clear about that, he's really quite happy to see that. But there remains the unfortunate reality of the person inside the Transistor, who has proven over time to be... less than gracious in the face of (probably) mutually beneficial propositions.
It's a little of both, to tell the truth. The Boxer has insisted upon putting as much distance between them as possible, more between Red and himself, one imagines, and for his part Royce has felt very little inclination to pursue. Part of it is that they are, despite his admitted... attachment to the Transistor, at most an accessory to what he's trying to do here. Ideally, Cloudbank will be saved with or without their help; certainly he's determined to realize that to whatever extent proves possible. And—part of it is that Royce has decided that knowing that nobody in this entire world understands the Transistor like he does means they may very well find their way back in his orbit eventually, anyhow, should the need arise.
But that has very little to do with the situation at hand; Royce's eyes widen at the refusal and he feels suddenly as if there's some sort of thorn that's stuck in the back of his mind. Quickly, he scans the area for someone else, someone more cooperative, but wouldn't luck have it that the majority of the crowd has filtered onto the dance floor?
Royce schools his expression into something he thinks is unreadable but really kinda isn't, a tense smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. ]
Oh, no, it's... really. No trouble. The least I can offer, in fact, I think you'd agree.
[#it'scomplicated. The bottom line is he is, mostly, more than happy to have Bracket out of their hair, for now. He's realistic enough to know it might benefit him hear Royce out, sometime. But his priorities have rarely centered on himself. So the process (hah) of coming around to anything else is...slow.
The odd, tight look sure strikes him as strange. Can't say he knows the man well enough to read it, yet. But he snorts, like Royce has said something pretty funny.]
Nice to know we're on the same page.
[It's absolutely the least. Which sure doesn't mean he's going to jump to accept an olive branch much faster. He reclines back against the wall just enough to cant his head back at Royce and watch him narrowly. More wry than aggressive, this time around—]
Pitch could use a little work. Here I was thinking maybe we'd get ourselves a drafted apology, sometime. "On behalf of the Camerata, we sincerely apologize for our grossly negligent behavior. Maybe we can settle this over drinks. Our treat."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
BOXER
( continued from here. )
[ Just the person Royce wanted to see. That is to say nothing about the Transistor, let's be clear about that, he's really quite happy to see that. But there remains the unfortunate reality of the person inside the Transistor, who has proven over time to be... less than gracious in the face of (probably) mutually beneficial propositions.
It's a little of both, to tell the truth. The Boxer has insisted upon putting as much distance between them as possible, more between Red and himself, one imagines, and for his part Royce has felt very little inclination to pursue. Part of it is that they are, despite his admitted... attachment to the Transistor, at most an accessory to what he's trying to do here. Ideally, Cloudbank will be saved with or without their help; certainly he's determined to realize that to whatever extent proves possible. And—part of it is that Royce has decided that knowing that nobody in this entire world understands the Transistor like he does means they may very well find their way back in his orbit eventually, anyhow, should the need arise.
But that has very little to do with the situation at hand; Royce's eyes widen at the refusal and he feels suddenly as if there's some sort of thorn that's stuck in the back of his mind. Quickly, he scans the area for someone else, someone more cooperative, but wouldn't luck have it that the majority of the crowd has filtered onto the dance floor?
Royce schools his expression into something he thinks is unreadable but really kinda isn't, a tense smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. ]
Oh, no, it's... really. No trouble. The least I can offer, in fact, I think you'd agree.
no subject
The odd, tight look sure strikes him as strange. Can't say he knows the man well enough to read it, yet. But he snorts, like Royce has said something pretty funny.]
Nice to know we're on the same page.
[It's absolutely the least. Which sure doesn't mean he's going to jump to accept an olive branch much faster. He reclines back against the wall just enough to cant his head back at Royce and watch him narrowly. More wry than aggressive, this time around—]
Pitch could use a little work. Here I was thinking maybe we'd get ourselves a drafted apology, sometime. "On behalf of the Camerata, we sincerely apologize for our grossly negligent behavior. Maybe we can settle this over drinks. Our treat."
[Y'know. Something like that.]