" [closed post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan prevaricates for several days about whether to approach Sagramore. She's a little lost with respect to her feelings about him, particularly after the one-two punch of being charmed by his teenaged self and then having her own eight-year-old self being so thoroughly taken by him. (And isn't that queer, to remember it after the fact? She'd been so convinced he wouldn't remember their encounter in the kitchen, but... what if, like her, he has?)

Sagramore is a good man, which she's known for a while now. He doesn't like her, which is fine, because while she hasn't disliked him for months, she hasn't exactly given him reason to change his mind about her outside of a few awkward conversations. She thinks, perhaps, that there might be a world in which they get along. It isn't this one, clearly, but - the possibility is there, in some alternate dimension; perhaps one day the mansion's nonsense will bring it to bear for a few short hours and in its aftermath they will be none the wiser.

Regardless, she finds that she likes that they've got a truce, and not just because they've got people in common. He's an asset to the community, and Susan likes to keep close inventory of assets.

It's a hot day, and the queerness of the month is in full effect. Perhaps that's why Susan decides, in the midst of a fit of research, that Sagramore - who is ever so well-connected - might make a good co-conspirator for her newest project. (It is also - though Susan doesn't realize it - exactly one Earth-year since their ill-advised assignation. In truth, she's placed that encounter almost fully out of her mind, and while she does make a close study of her days here, she's merely noticed that she's known Lancelot for a year now, and refrained from considering the rest.)

And so she prepares her bribes offerings. She makes coffee the way Sagramore's teenage self taught her: with the grounds and the spices and the sugar and the water, boiled three times and decanted into a thermos. (She's also made tea for herself. She knows better than to pretend she's going to try the coffee again.) The thermos itself is a gift; it's a kitschy little affair that reads If found, return to Dad, and part of a number of queerly-labeled items that she's found populating her parlor (which is now attached to her room by a door next to her closet) since Rainbows began. While savory bakes aren't her forte in the same way sweet ones are, she also prepares hagymás tekercs, with the hopes that they're to his taste. Once she's got everything - coffee, tea, and rolls - packaged up, she places them carefully away in a satchel along with her notebook, a pen, and several samples of the focus of her true agenda. This time she hasn't got a list of conversational topics. She rather thinks she shan't need one.

To her relief, as she makes her way to his cottage, she sees that Sunny is off playing in Crowley's automobile, and Laertes is walking along the forest's edge with Magnus, seemingly deep in conversation. While it wouldn't matter if either were home, their absence shall make this discussion easier.

As before, she squares her shoulders. Then she knocks firmly on the door.

Comments

[sagramore]

"Oh, it was hardly humoring."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Very well, then." Susan waits until she has the tea Sagramore has prepared in hand before bringing up the true reason behind her visit - after all, one ought to let one's (compelled) host engage in hosting pleasantries before getting down to business. She breathes in the scent of it, takes a careful sip, and then looks up at Sagramore. Her hair, which she's wearing mostly-down today, with only the front bits braided back to keep out of her face, cascades down her back, and she nudges a strand off her shoulder with her free hand - a tiny nod toward a nervous affectation.

"I'm here because... well. I suppose I should like your help. With a project. Not creating a chore chart for Crowley."

[sagramore]

"Oh! Certainly," Sagramore says, as usual agreeing to things before he knows what they are. "What is it?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan blinks, surprised. She'd prepared an entire sales pitch! That was... remarkably easy. "A... I suppose one might call it a 'happy re-birthday' gift for Shen Yuan."

[sagramore]

"Even better."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

A flash of a smile. Aware that this is where her proposal might start to seem ridiculous, Susan squares her shoulders and says, "As you likely know, he's tremendously homosexual."

[sagramore]

"I do know this," Sagramore says, beginning to laugh helplessly.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I recently learned of a... fundraising mechanism used after my time that I thought might appeal to him on several levels," Susan says. "It's - oh, I haven't the first idea how to describe it. Here." And she pulls a stack of six exemplar nude calendars out of her satchel and hands them over to Sagramore. Most feature tremendously muscular men obscuring their genitals with tools of their trades and/or cute animals; one features buxom women doing the same. (This latter, obviously, is intended only as an example; naturally Shen Yuan wouldn't find the inclusion of local women interesting in a calendar.)

[sagramore]

His delight increases, to the point that he has to put a hand on the table to brace himself. "Lady Susan Pevensie, are you asking me to convince everyone I know to pose for portraits of this nature?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I do believe you'll make a more effective argument than I," Susan says. "Yes, Sagramore. That's what I'm asking."

[sagramore]

"It would be my unmitigated pleasure, my lady."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, good. I'm ever so pleased." Susan pauses. "I had... an additional thought that I should like to run past you."

[sagramore]

"Oh, please."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan takes another sip of her tea. It's not precisely what she's used to, but she doesn't dislike it. "Well," she says, somewhat tentative. "Janet does so enjoy, ah..." She glances up at Sagramore again and decides to dispense with euphemism. "Bossing men around. I thought she might enjoy being invited to arrange the... tableaux."

[sagramore]

"Oh! To direct, the way she did at the talent show, is that what you're thinking?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes. If that shan't be a problem for you." Janet has said their relationship has improved, but if Susan is to enter into a project with Sagramore, she shouldn't want to put it at risk on day one.

[sagramore]

"I think we're on good terms, actually. As much as we can be."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Ah! Splendid, then."

[sagramore]

"It is," with a little smile. "I like her a great deal, and I'm grateful that we can be friends."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

While Susan has likely been less uncertain and tense thus far during this conversation than any other she's had with the regular version of Sagramore, she unclenches further at this nod toward the idea that she and Sagramore are of similar minds regarding Janet - though Susan, naturally, isn't merely Janet's friend, and has the love-bites hidden away by the cut of her dress to prove it.

"Yes," she says, soft now in both tone and demeanor. "I'm pleased to hear it."

[sagramore]

Sagramore smiles at her, equally soft, a peace offering.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan doesn't precisely smile back, but the look she gives him is unguarded and pleased, and she forces herself to let the moment linger for the space of a few breaths and a sip of her tea before she launches into her next point: "We've got fourteen months to fill here, but with your help I can't imagine that shall be an impossibility."

[sagramore]

"We should make a list. I should make a list," he amends. "I'm forgetful. Let's see. Laertes, Claudius, Dionysus, Asmodean, Grantaire -- Lancelot?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I shall speak to Lancelot," Susan says. "You may too, of course. I imagine he mightn't agree straightaway." She purses her lips. "Lan Wangji?" She's gleaned that they don't get along, Shen Yuan and Lan Wangji, but Susan has got eyes. Lan Wangji is beautiful, and Shen Yuan does tend to stare so at large social gatherings.

[sagramore]

A short, sharp bark of laughter. "Lan Wangji. And Wei Wuxian, probably. Aleksander, of course. Kade, if he doesn't mind."