[Remember back a few weeks ago when Gideon was drunk and lying in the balls and letting the round brightly-colored plastic figurative earth consume her? Thancred's doing a surprisingly apt rendition of that now, except that he looks 400x more miffed about it.]
That's how you say hello after one night of being rid of me?
[He sounds crabby, but he's kind of touched.]
It wasn't ideal. But you managed well enough without me, didn't you?
Rest assured, if you'd been with me you'd have been the most disgusted girl in the whole world for a whole hour. But I can't have you being upset with me, so I'll make it up to you. Benevolent, aren't I?
[He looks up at her, watching the offer of her hand and then the immediate withdrawal of it, and laughs softly before kind of swimming through the balls over nearer to her.]
You just don't think you're strong enough to lift me. I know how it is.
[but her lips do twitch when he says he'll make it up to her. just for a second! because that teasing makes her expression sour a little, indignant. this normally wouldn't even make her blink, but. insecurity week! it be wild.
which is why when he swims over she just reaches in and attempts to lift him up out of the pit. she'll!! show you!! or something!!]
[once he's out, she sort of brushes him off a bit. and then kind of hesitates for a second before resting a hand on his arm and squeezing it. like a glad to see you sort of thing. she's trying.]
Yeah, you did. [she glances at him.] You told me to think about if I wanted to work for them, too. The answer to that is yes, by the way.
[She's trying, and he just flat out gives her a hug. Good to see you're still okay too, kid.]
Not at all. Urianger wears his on his face.
[He lifts a finger, drawing the stylized A on his cheek in a similar placement. But, at the mention that she's actually been thinking about it, his expression brightens a little, a touch surprised and a little pleased.]
You could incorporate it into your makeup, mayhap. Put it over one eye or somesuch.
[nooooOOOO THE HUG. she actually stiffens, because it's been what, five weeks and she still isn't quite used to hugs. she has been hugged more while dead than she ever was while alive. but - she eases pretty quickly into it, and hugs him back very tightly.
when she pulls back, her shoulders have relaxed by a whole lot.]
I don't plan on wearing the paint any more than I have to. I only do it as much as I do now because Harrowhark causes a stink when I don't. [...] Over the eye sounds badass, though.
I thought you might approve. We can discuss it after you've earned them, though.
[The affection is so...genuine. Honest. Fervent. After a week of insecurities of his own, there's something remarkably soothing about just being held onto, and he relishes it while it lasts until she finally sets him free.]
[And it's a little funny that he finds himself doing this demonstration in this particular location, because it's not the first time he's shown off but it is the first he's doing it sober. That's why, even despite the ache in his legs, his movements turn smooth and fluid as he starts to walk the perimeter of the bar, letting Gideon follow where he goes and wanders, always moving at the same steady, predictable pace —
Until at one point in his circuit, he passes behind one of the wide support pillars, and simply doesn't come back out again.
Or, well. If he does, it's not in the way an eye could follow.]
[she blinks, head tilting slightly to the side, when he doesn't come back out. she's tempted to go look, but she stays where she is.
... though she does move away from the edge of the ball pit. she doesn't know where he is now, and she assumes revenge is imminent. she does do a sweep of the room from where she's at, though, gold eyes bright in the dim of the bar.]
[ — comes a voice, and all of a sudden, there he is: behind the bar, filling one of those to-go cups with his old favorite, the Number Nine.]
Better than most.
[He says, nonchalantly going about his business, as though he didn't just seemingly disappear from one side of the room and, like, teleport or something over to another.]
[she makes such a squawk of a sound, looking over at the bar. her instinct when she's startled is to grab for her sword, so that's why her hand goes there, but she realizes how stupid that is after a second and just drops her hand.]
Thanks, it's from dodging Harrow's gauntlet of bones every day since I was eight. [she says, dryly.] How'd you do that?
I earned these marks for my talents in espionage. A field of study better suited to a former street urchin and pickpocket than more scholarly pursuits. And fortunately for me, Sharlayan considers the former just as valuable a discipline as the latter.
I think that's how the Sixth works. They're horribly clever, and the fighters they've got are insane with blades. I've never seen anybody fight like Hect did.
Would they give you an A in swords if you were good enough at them?
Swords in and of themselves? Not likely. If you were to invent a new discipline of fighting with one, some innovation that added to a wealth of knowledge about swordplay? There, you might be on to something.
[Well, he's still back here anyway, so why not play bartender. He'll serve up whatever it is she's having.]
Though I'd sooner see you look beyond your love of swords, personally. Not that I think you'd be incapable of finding a means to earn an Archon mark in them; quite the contrary. But that's what you always fall back on when it comes to defining yourself.
[she's already thinking about coming up with brand new swords techniques when he brings this up, because that would be so rad. she wants a whole subsection of form to be named after her.
also, she'll take whatever. she unfortunately is a fan of the taste of the affection drink AND the love potion drink but she refuses to put up with those so. beer it is.
however - the last bit of what thancred says interrupts her thoughts, and she raises an eyebrow at him.]
You make that sound like it's a bad thing. [because it is, gideon]
Whatever happened to wanting to work for your marks?
[He slides her a glass of beer, then starts sipping at his Number Nine, himself. It's as delicious as always, and brings back memories of Sharlayan. Fitting, for a moment like this.]
Let go of the swords a moment. You've met all manner of people here, from all different places and circumstances and walks of life. Nothing they've shown you or taught you has caught your fancy?
[He drums his fingers lightly on the counter, taking another sip of his drink.]
You're going to show me aptitude for adaptability. Capacity to learn a new skill is a trait worthy of Sharlayan, I should think — so when you can show me that you've achieved competence in a skill you learned from one of your friends, then you'll have your marks.
[she looks vaguely disgruntled by this, because as always there's something in her that immediately and without hesitation reacts poorly to this sort of phrasing, but she's smart enough to know that he's not ordering her around, he's giving her a goal.
she takes a drink of her own, reaching up to put her sunglasses back on.]
I wanted to learn more about Childe's vision shit. [she says, glancing away.] I'll see what else I can find.
[See, this is why group projects suck, you try to count on your partner for five whole seconds and they bail on the assignment by GETTING THEMSELVES FUCKING MURDERED or whatever.]
[yeah childe was like sure i'll write my section tonight and then dropped out of the class entirely]
Vision singular. It's their magic, I think. He's got water based magic, Itto's got rock. I'd be shocked if Scaramouche hasn't got something as well, but he's slippery.
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That's how you say hello after one night of being rid of me?
[He sounds crabby, but he's kind of touched.]
It wasn't ideal. But you managed well enough without me, didn't you?
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[but it's more fond (and sarcastic) than anything. she offers a hand - and then pulls it back immediately.]
I will help you out but if you pull me in after you I'm putting my foot up your ass.
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[He looks up at her, watching the offer of her hand and then the immediate withdrawal of it, and laughs softly before kind of swimming through the balls over nearer to her.]
You just don't think you're strong enough to lift me. I know how it is.
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[but her lips do twitch when he says he'll make it up to her. just for a second! because that teasing makes her expression sour a little, indignant. this normally wouldn't even make her blink, but. insecurity week! it be wild.
which is why when he swims over she just reaches in and attempts to lift him up out of the pit. she'll!! show you!! or something!!]
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You never want to know. I'm accustomed to it.
[He shrugs slightly.]
But speaking of knowing things, I promised I'd someday show you how I got my Archon marks, didn't I?
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Yeah, you did. [she glances at him.] You told me to think about if I wanted to work for them, too. The answer to that is yes, by the way.
[...] Do they have to go on the neck?
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Not at all. Urianger wears his on his face.
[He lifts a finger, drawing the stylized A on his cheek in a similar placement. But, at the mention that she's actually been thinking about it, his expression brightens a little, a touch surprised and a little pleased.]
You could incorporate it into your makeup, mayhap. Put it over one eye or somesuch.
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when she pulls back, her shoulders have relaxed by a whole lot.]
I don't plan on wearing the paint any more than I have to. I only do it as much as I do now because Harrowhark causes a stink when I don't. [...] Over the eye sounds badass, though.
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[The affection is so...genuine. Honest. Fervent. After a week of insecurities of his own, there's something remarkably soothing about just being held onto, and he relishes it while it lasts until she finally sets him free.]
Now. Shall I?
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Yeah, go on. Show off.
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[And it's a little funny that he finds himself doing this demonstration in this particular location, because it's not the first time he's shown off but it is the first he's doing it sober. That's why, even despite the ache in his legs, his movements turn smooth and fluid as he starts to walk the perimeter of the bar, letting Gideon follow where he goes and wanders, always moving at the same steady, predictable pace —
Until at one point in his circuit, he passes behind one of the wide support pillars, and simply doesn't come back out again.
Or, well. If he does, it's not in the way an eye could follow.]
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... though she does move away from the edge of the ball pit. she doesn't know where he is now, and she assumes revenge is imminent. she does do a sweep of the room from where she's at, though, gold eyes bright in the dim of the bar.]
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[ — comes a voice, and all of a sudden, there he is: behind the bar, filling one of those to-go cups with his old favorite, the Number Nine.]
Better than most.
[He says, nonchalantly going about his business, as though he didn't just seemingly disappear from one side of the room and, like, teleport or something over to another.]
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Thanks, it's from dodging Harrow's gauntlet of bones every day since I was eight. [she says, dryly.] How'd you do that?
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[t h a n c r e d]
I earned these marks for my talents in espionage. A field of study better suited to a former street urchin and pickpocket than more scholarly pursuits. And fortunately for me, Sharlayan considers the former just as valuable a discipline as the latter.
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[she is going to make her way over to the bar.]
I think that's how the Sixth works. They're horribly clever, and the fighters they've got are insane with blades. I've never seen anybody fight like Hect did.
Would they give you an A in swords if you were good enough at them?
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[Well, he's still back here anyway, so why not play bartender. He'll serve up whatever it is she's having.]
Though I'd sooner see you look beyond your love of swords, personally. Not that I think you'd be incapable of finding a means to earn an Archon mark in them; quite the contrary. But that's what you always fall back on when it comes to defining yourself.
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also, she'll take whatever. she unfortunately is a fan of the taste of the affection drink AND the love potion drink but she refuses to put up with those so. beer it is.
however - the last bit of what thancred says interrupts her thoughts, and she raises an eyebrow at him.]
You make that sound like it's a bad thing. [because it is, gideon]
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[He slides her a glass of beer, then starts sipping at his Number Nine, himself. It's as delicious as always, and brings back memories of Sharlayan. Fitting, for a moment like this.]
Let go of the swords a moment. You've met all manner of people here, from all different places and circumstances and walks of life. Nothing they've shown you or taught you has caught your fancy?
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she's quiet for like a REALLY long minute, trying to think of... anything...]
Uh.
[she is trying to think of something not related to fighting and is failing.]
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[He drums his fingers lightly on the counter, taking another sip of his drink.]
You're going to show me aptitude for adaptability. Capacity to learn a new skill is a trait worthy of Sharlayan, I should think — so when you can show me that you've achieved competence in a skill you learned from one of your friends, then you'll have your marks.
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she takes a drink of her own, reaching up to put her sunglasses back on.]
I wanted to learn more about Childe's vision shit. [she says, glancing away.] I'll see what else I can find.
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What sort of visions?
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Vision singular. It's their magic, I think. He's got water based magic, Itto's got rock. I'd be shocked if Scaramouche hasn't got something as well, but he's slippery.
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[He ponders a minute.]
What if you found out? From Scaramouche. He's slippery, as you say, so getting it out of him would be an unusual accomplishment, wouldn't it?
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