faderift | open

[If only he could appreciate the bitchiness but there's a fucking bat in his face. Nikos holds his ground while trying to curve himself away from his tormentors. His scowl darkens.]

Please don't tell me about my brother's taste. Is this supposed to change my mind about this creature?

[Is he above slapping a bat in the face?]

I might've been referring to his taste in fashion, but no. If you'll stop being a baby about it, maybe holding him would change your mind.

[ She can't really shrug per se, with all the bat-wrangling she's doing, but she raises her eyebrows at him. ]

If not, your loss.

[A baby? He snorts.]

I doubt it. And I will drop it if you try to force this on me.

Good thing he hangs on tight, then.

[ And then she really does just let Batty do what Batty wants, which is to grab onto one of Nikos' shoulders and monkey-bar his way from elf to Averesch. Without any assistance from Nikos (because really, would Nikos even), Batty ends up hanging on him like a babybjorn. Chittering and snuffling and making a soft little rumble that's almost like purring. ]

One thing, if you will: feel how soft his fur is. Then I'll take him back.

[Oh, for fuck's sake--

Nikos--usually slumped in the shoulders and habitually found leaning against something--straightens. Better posture makes him look even more like Kostos, but he wears it more stiffly, like a frame from which you might hang the wash. The giant bat hangs off of his shoulders.

He does not look down at it. He stays perfectly still. He looks pissed.

Flatly:]

I'm not going to feel how soft his fur is.

[The bat rubs its weird nose against him. For fuck's sake.]

Why not? Don't you want me to take him back?

[Clipped, as he stands like an awkward scarecrow:]

I don't negotiate.

[ She scoffs, stepping closer and reaching for Nikos' hand. Well, more his wrist, planning to lift it and maneuver his hand to the bat's fur. ]

[Sluggish from the hour and the little tendrils of hangover that are wound around his brain, distracted by the presence of a great big fucking bat hanging off of him and rubbing its nose on him, Nikos nearly misses her going for his wrist. Good reflexes and latent instinct save him; he snatches his hand away just in time to dodge her grip.

Unfortunately he overdoes it, and the force of the movement wrongfoots him, and he steps backward, teetering, and the stupid bat shifts with a weird bat noise and Nikos slaps his hand against the wall, in bird shit, but it is just enough to stop him from falling on his arse and getting crushed by a bat, and probably landing in bird shit, so, it's okay.

It's not.]

[ Well that was unexpected. She figured he wouldn't let her take his hand if he could prevent it, but...well.

Athessa manages not to laugh outright by pursing her lips into a tight line, but the mirth lingers when she crosses her arms and shakes her head at him. ]

Alright, ya berk?

[On one hand, he can't be mad, because if Athessa fell backwards into a wall like that and put her hand in bird shit, he'd laugh. On the other hand, he absolutely can be mad.

Nikos settles instead on seething annoyance, which falls somewhere on the scale between mad and not mad, and snaps out--]

Take the fucking bat off of me and I will be.

Alright, fine.

[ Now though, she does laugh. As soon as she reaches for Batty, he hooks onto her and releases Nikos, apparently satisfied with the minor menacing he accomplished. ]

But ya know, things that can't bend always break.

[Nikos lingers a moment, to make double sure no one is going to chuck a giant back on him when he least expects it. When it is clear that the danger has passed, he snorts, and shoves away from the wall.]

Thank you, grandmother. Any other wisdom?

[He scrapes his hand against the corner, cleaning it off with a few rough swipes.]

More things should break.

[ For someone who is constantly assumed to be far younger than she is, there's a fun novelty to the joke skewing in the other direction. Even though yes, she knows, it is a joke.

She still has a good chuckle about it as she takes Batty back to his perch. ]

Oh yeah, like what?

...Other than Kostos' face.

[He rolls his eyes. How dare she try to appeal to him with violence against his twin brother, who he typically wants to do violence to. How presumptuous.]

That saying of yours would be better directed at institutions. Not people. People change all the time. It is the bastions of power that declare themselves unbendable monoliths. Unable to change to suit real needs.

Like the Chantry.

[ A far cry from a silly man refusing to pet a cuddly bat, but she doesn't disagree. Clearly. ]

[He gestures, like ta-dah.]

The Chantry. Governments. Monarchies. The systems of title and inheritance. What little change is managed has only ever been the same system in a different robe.

[ With Batty deposited back on his perch and the fruit basket emptied, she returns to stand before him, attentive. ]

So how do we get 'em to break?

[Nikos scrapes his hand against the corner of the wall one last time, somewhat roughly. The nip of pain is very small, but welcome, and now there isn't any birdshit on his hand any longer.]

Is this really a conversation you're interested in having, in the morning, in the rookery?

You're the one who brought it up, [ easy, breezy, affable, ] and there's no time like the present, right? But if you'd rather wait until after dark, in the dungeon...

[ (The dungeon being the vertical opposite of the rookery.) She shrugs and starts to move past him to leave. ]

I'll still be interested in having it.

[Caspar is the one who believes in people. Or rather, Caspar is the one who can see that people are worthy of believing in. He picks that part out, takes a chance, gives the pitch and presents the ideas and says it all sensibly--not always calmly, and Nikos likes Caspar best when he is passionate, articulating the ideas he wants so badly to believe in.

The part that Nikos has trouble with is the part with the people. The People. Everyone is so disappointing. When he looks at Athessa, he's ready to be disappointed. All right, but what would Caspar see? Strings to pluck. The right words that make that string hum.]

Riftwatch is a shit place to talk revolution. [Like speaking of disappointing.] Taverns are better.

[ She can't help but smile to herself for a moment before she turns, looking at him from however-many steps down the stairs. ]

Alright. [ Prompting. When and where, buckaroo? ]

I'll contact you.

[Not smiling. But that's not surprising.]

And don't tell my brother. He'll have a fit.

[ Athessa grins and resumes her downward trek. ]

Hardly a deterrent, but fine. See ya whenever.

open

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject