Rose/Equius WIP

Hasn't been spellchecked. May or may not lead to fucking.

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"Pleae, step into my office mr. zahhak."

The decor of rose lalonde's dream bubble was an amalgam of several locations from her memories. A psychiatrist's office she had visited once, long ago, which she had fond memories of. After her "therapy session" she'd left the poor doctor in tears. She looked him up months afterward, and found that he'd retired not long after their session.

Mixed in was the elegant purple architecture of Derse, largely based on her beedroom there. Although she hadn't spent much time on the moon, she had liked the color, and  the mix of spiky cathedral-like towers and flying buttresses and patteredn wallpaper and tiled floors had an undeniable elegance.

Personalizing the space was a touch of her own home back on Earth, largely the more "sciencey" parts. A bookshlelf from her sitting room was overflowing with tomes on various subjects, from cryptozoology to cryptosociology. Okay, maybe that one was a little limited on its subject matter.

Dominatingthe center of the room was a large antique desk, a replica of the one from her mother's study. Unlike its earthly counterpart, this one was not stained with booze, and was piled with a number of Rose's journals and notebooks rather than martini glasses and empty bottles. It sat facing an overstuffed brown leather couch, also copied from her home, also devoid of the booze stains the real one should have had. The sixteen year old god-psychiatrist reclined in a similarly designed armchair behind her desk, as she met the troll of void for the first time.

"I would first lay down ground rules," the Troll said, still standing in the doorway, still gripping the doorknob. "There are some subjects about which discussion is unacceptable."

Rose raised an eyebrow at this. "We don't have to talk about anything that you don't feel comfortable discussing."

"Yes," he said. It was less an agreement and more of a repetition of his previous statement. "This situation is highly inappropiate on many levels. For a highblood like myself to consult with an alien for any reason is unorthadox in any circumstances. The fact that you intend to discuss my... my... feelings, as they were, it simply unheard of."

He was comletely stiff as he said this, as if he was tring to tense every muscle in his body at the same time. Rose noted that he was sweating profusely, and his grip on the door was making a dent in the brass knob.

"Okay," Rose said simply, prompting the troll to go on. After an awkward moment of silence, he relaxed his grip on the knob and gingerly pulled the door closed, slamming it into its frame anyway. He crossed the room and stood in front of the couch, not sitting, instead standing at attention as if he was waiting to be chewed out by a military officer.

"Mister Zahhak," Rose inquired, "Would you be more comfortable sitting down?"

"Equius," he replied, "is my name. You may call me Equius. I will allow you to do so."

Having not answered the question, he was still standing. Rose made a mental note that he seemed to relax a by a miniscule amount after giving her an order. On the other hand, he seemed to be sweating more.

"Equius," she tried again, "My couch is very comfortable. My memory of it is from when I was much younger, and to a young human anything that is large and soft is extremely satisfying to sit or lay down on." He hadn't responded when she had offered the couch, presumably because the high blood wasn't used to others offering him gifts and charity. He was likely more accustomed to taking things from other, or telling them what to do the things that they had.

"I will use your couch," he said, relaxing another fraction of a fraction. After a moment's hesitation, he sat down in the middle of the couch all at once, the sturdy construction groaning more under the force of his impact than just from the weight. He had positioned himself squarely in the middle of the thing, sitting on the gap between the two cussions, not leaning back, his hands at his sides. He managed to make the couch look like the most uncomfortable sitting device in all of paradox space.

To each their own, Rose though, leaning back in her own seat and crossing her fingers. Equius' gaze was straight forward, as if he was staring off into space. She was reminded again of a soldier or a cadet, not looking at the drill sergant as he screamed into his face. Was he always like this, or just uncomfortable? Based on her discussions with Nepeta, it was probably a little of both.

The was another moment of silence. The Troll seemed to excel at creating them, but powering through awkwardness to get to the important discussion was a skill Rose had mastered early on. It game her time to study her subject and collect her thoughts.

"This room," Equius began, finally breaking the silence, "is to be treated as quarentine zone for words. Nothing will get out under any circumstances."

"Of course," she replied.

"My private matters are not anyone's business except for mine. When we are done here you will pretend like you never talked to me."

"If you are asking me to lie about the fact that we have met, I'm afraid I cannot oblige. However I can assure you that our discussion here will be held with the utmost confidentiality."

"Anything that happens here will be absolutely private." It was a question, but he phrased it like an imperative statement.

"Absolutely."

There was another moment of silence.

"Okay," Equius said.

"Okay," Rose agreed.

More silence.

"You spoke to my moirail," Equius began. "Afterward she suggested that I come speak to you as well."