[Closed] Got A Light?

[sulahnan]

WHO: Athessa, Leander, Colin?, Benedict??
WHAT: Walking the parapet aka trying to get that cigarette case
WHEN: the days before Satinalia
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: following this plan, loosely

Despite all the planning, plotting, scheming that's been happening, when Athessa comes across Leander on the ramparts of the Gallows, it actually is by happenstance alone and not because she was looking for him.

The unfortunate part of this is that it means she's not as prepared as she'd like to be, but maybe that's a blessing in disguise. Maybe that's the elfroot talking. If elfroot could talk, what would it say?

"See any red birds?" She asks, the game they played while traveling a while back well remembered.

Comments

[sarcophage]

Happenstance has presented Athessa with something of a poetic scenario: Leander alone, a dark cigarillo perched light between his fingers, breathing fragrant smoke as he paces, here and there, with a book spread open in his other hand. Slim silhouette and windblown curls. He's just made a slow swivelling turn on one boot heel when,

See any—

he turns his head to find her there. Swift, not startled. The glimpse of expressionless concentration disappears behind a pleasant—if slightly wan—smile.

"Not today." Briefly raising the book, I'm busy. "Haven't been looking."

[sulahnan]

She shrugs, because she doesn't really care about whether or not he's seen any red birds anyway. Leaning on the parapet, she produces a joint from behind her ear and nods at the book.

"Wassat?"

[sarcophage]

"A book."

Hardy har har. He leaves time enough for a moment of exasperation, should she require it, before continuing on, "Of Nevarran language. Brushing up on vocabulary before we set off." With his own tightly rolled leaf he gestures to its cousin over yonder in Athessa's hand. "Same as usual?"

[sulahnan]

She nods. "Plus some Prophet's Laurel."

As if checking herself for matches--which she never has, making it a pointless action--she pats her pockets, and looks around. The nearest torch is far enough away to make her not want to jog over, light her joint, and jog back. She could do it, of course, but ugh.

"Got a light?"

[sarcophage]

His answer is a silent, and visually sarcastic, pause—is that a real question?—but the book in his hand closes all the same, and he beckons her casually.

"This won't do, will it?" The cigarillo's smouldering tip, he means, reckoning not.

[sulahnan]

"Nah, gotta be an open flame or it won't burn evenly."

[sarcophage]

"Bring it here, then," and he slips the book under his arm. Here means closer, and closer means within arm's reach, while he rubs two fingers and thumb together in preparation. Warming up, as it were.

Those three fingertips press lightly together—wait—then the flame ignites, settling after the initial burst into a soft and steady shape, as though he's holding a candle wick.

[sulahnan]

She does as bidden, with only slight hesitation. It's just fire, it'll be fine.

"Doesn't everyone in Nevarra speak Trade, anyway?" She rotates the joint over the flame, making sure the cherry that's formed will burn evenly the whole way down. "Why brush up?"

[sarcophage]

"True, it's easy enough to get by in the major cities, but the most interesting conversations happen in Nevarran."

Leander holds steady for her, watching her technique with mild interest. It's just fire; it's fine. When she's finished he'll slide his fingers down the length of his thumb, in something like a mock snap, to snuff the flame. Back to his own smoke, then. He seems ready to reopen the book.

"And I enjoy speaking it, besides. It's a beautiful language."

[sulahnan]

"Got any favorite words, then?" She steps over to the parapet, hopping up onto it to sit instead of just leaning this time. Brings the freshly lit herb to her mouth and takes a drag. "Any good swears?"

The swears and raunchy stuff are the best things to learn in any language, as far as Athessa is concerned.

[sarcophage]

"Oh, yes—the profanity is fantastic. Would you like an example?" Of course she would. "When a Nevarran man doesn't care about anything you've just told him, he might say," a few crisply plucked words in another language, "which means he plans to write it on his balls. That's tame, of course—there's some astonishingly filthy stuff. I'm not sure I could bring myself to speak it in front of a young lady."

(A young lady named Clio taught him most of it.)

[sulahnan]

Athessa laughs, hoping she'll remember that useful phrase when it's pertinent.

"Luckily there aren't any young ladies about. Let's hear some of the filthy stuff!" She leans forward, elbows on her knees, a rapt audience.

[sarcophage]

While taking one of the last pulls from his diminished cigarillo, Leander looks like he's ready to laugh along with her; instead he exhales around a smile.

"All right, one more." After he clears his throat, he pronounces a brief phrase, pointing at her once—lightly, with the hand holding the smoke—for emphasis. "Literally: I shit in your mother's ribcage. Extremely offensive. Sounds pretty, though, doesn't it?"

Colin (closed)

[sulahnan]

Shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiiiiiiiiiit—

Luckily two things are working in Athessa’s favor right now: she’s a fast runner, and the place on the battlements where she’d just bumped into Leander isn’t too far from the apothecary. Of course, her perception of time makes it seem like it takes her much longer to get there, which means that her panic only rises, and then of course when she gets there someone else is there and she has to wait. Rocking on the balls of her feet, then hopping foot to foot, then outright jittering.

When the person finally leaves, Athessa trails after them to the door and closes it behind them with a brief glance to make sure nobody else is on their way in before she runs the few steps over to Colin and whisper-yells:

“I threw it!”

[keenly]

Without any other context, Colin is low-key wondering to himself if he can guess what Athessa means. He doesn't fling himself into a panic because, in his opinion, people panic about far too many things around here. The last thing he could possibly imagine that Athessa means, is what it actually means. He gives up after a few seconds.

Very patiently: "You threw...?"

[sulahnan]

"The--thing! The thing!" She says between panicked and exerted wheezes, gesturing wild and loose and miming what the thing is. Unfortunately, her miming looks more like she means a book, which she recognizes enough to slap her hands over her face and drag them downward in frustration at her own inarticulate state.

Athessa hangs her head and plants her hands on her hips and visibly tries to calm down, and failing that, to catch her breath. Just a little composure, girl, come on.

"I threw the case." This, said with a sweeping gesture not unlike how one's arm swings forth to skip a stone across a lake.

[keenly]

Colin's face changes very little as he processes the little information he has so far.

"At...?" The wall? A hiding space? Leander's head?

[sulahnan]

More gesturing, a wheeze that might be a slightly hysterical laugh, and she hangs her head. Gestures again, then brings her hand to cover her mouth. She's a fucking moron and she knows it. More than that, she feels how stupid she is and it's killing her inside.

"Mmf frrh--" She drops her hand as if she didn't realize she wouldn't be able to speak with her hand over her mouth. "I threw it off the battlement."

[keenly]

That is not what he expected. At all. His eyes widen slightly and he glances away, looking at nothing but the hazy ether into which their plan has disappeared.

"Well that's not the worst-case scenario," he decides. "You could have thrown him off the battlements. Let's skip the question of why until later, but did you find the pieces? Or do you think it fell into the ocean?"

[sulahnan]

"It's definitely in the water," she confirms, with a bit more voice and conviction. "Turns out I can throw really far, but shit! I fucking threw it like a moron! Snatched it right out of his hand and--"

She clamps down hard on those words and huffs. "It's probably floating, right? Because wood? But...shit it's not like I was discreet about it."

[keenly]

"Breathe," Colin says, gently reaching out to settle his hands on her shoulders. "It's not the end of the world. Show me where it might have landed."

CUT TO: EXT. DAY - THE SHORE BEYOND THE BATTLEMENTS

[sulahnan]

It takes a bit of trekking to get beyond the battlements. Normally, Athessa would just get up to the parapet and climb down, but she's not sure Colin is up for the kind of free-running she, Matty, and Mhavos do.

She finds the spot on the wall where she's pretty sure she and Leander just were, and uses that as the origin point to track her throw.

"Out there," she says, pointing. Where she stood on the battlement is directly behind them, and she mimes her throw again just to check that it wouldn't have curved off wildly, or fallen short. Any other time, she'd be thrilled to discover this new talent for throwing things, but the kibosh it put on their very involved, well-formulated plan sours the taste of victory.

She knows that water is going to be cold, but she's determined to right her mistake. Jaw set with determination, she starts to strip down to her underthings.

[keenly]

"What?" Colin puts a hand on her shoulder. "Stop. Let me."

Not all mages really get the use of spirit magic. They like, or are at least more likely to understand, fire and ice and lightning and healing. Colin kneels at the edge of the water and reaches out with one hand, fingers gently testing the invisible connections between him and everything else in the world like he's tuning a harp. It's probably a strange thing to see. Hopefully, Leander didn't do this already and retrieve the box. It's a lot harder to do when you can't see the thing you're reaching for.

The first thing that flies into his hand is a piece of driftwood. He sets it aside. The next thing is a...oh, ew. Whatever it is, it's gooey and he rinses it off his hands with a shudder.

[sulahnan]

Ah! Oh.

Those are her reactions, respectively, when she realizes that he can spirit the thing to them, and when she sees that slimy thing fly into his hand. Gross. Luckily she hadn't stripped down entirely before he stopped her, so getting her jumper back on takes no time or fuss.

And then she scans the water. Squinting, cupping her hands around her eyes like binoculars, standing on tip-toes for better vantage--which doesn't work, as it only brings her up to average height. But she does spot something floating, a little wooden something surrounded by what could possibly be cigarillos that are also bobbing on the surface of the water.

"There," she crouches down next to Colin so she can point from his eye level, almost cheek-to-cheek. "See it?"

[keenly]

Colin follows with his eyes to where the thing floats. His sight isn't as good as hers, but he can see it now that she's mentioned it. If only Kirkwall didn't throw all its crap in the ocean. He reaches out with a now-clean hand. A few seconds later, the box slaps against his palm. He brushes away the detritus it collected while floating. It hasn't been long, so the salt water hasn't yet soaked too far into the wood.

"This?" he asks to confirm, showing it to Athessa, since he's never seen this thing.