WHO: James Holden and YOU WHAT: Catch-all for April WHEN: Fantasy April WHERE: The Gallows and Kirkwall, mostly, but around NOTES: Starters in the comments, lmk if you'd like something bespoke or feel free to drop in a wildcard.
There is— at the tail end of Holden's refusal— the start of a weighted ( and perhaps possibly irritated) pause. True that his eyeless stare belies nothing, but the silence...
Well, it might prove shocking how loud that manages to be.
Still, he's not the immovable creature his past once defined him as without exception. After what must feel like an entirely too-long period of time, his offer recedes, tucked away at his side in lieu of setting the edge of his palm against the belt at his hip.
He'll never admit that the long, judgy silence of being stared down by an emotionless helmet started to make him sweat; but he is only human. He doesn't move to recant his refusal, though, crosses his arms and prepares to wait out the staring contest.
And then, thankfully, Gabranth relents.
"Jim," he says, "Jim Holden. And what can I call you?"
"Gabranth." Judge Magister by preference, but he's been warned away from that title and all its unsettling implications more than enough times by now to know that its use need end beyond the Gallows and its inner workings.
No matter how much it pains him.
Still, that weighty silence clings a lone beat longer, before Gabranth's own broad silhouette presses past Holden's own without any further formality— thick, dark cloak trailing so closely between them in passing that it might even catch Jim's side if he doesn't opt to move.
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no subject
"People helped me when I was new here too. Consider this me paying it forward."
no subject
Well, it might prove shocking how loud that manages to be.
Still, he's not the immovable creature his past once defined him as without exception. After what must feel like an entirely too-long period of time, his offer recedes, tucked away at his side in lieu of setting the edge of his palm against the belt at his hip.
"Your name, then. So that I might call upon you."
no subject
And then, thankfully, Gabranth relents.
"Jim," he says, "Jim Holden. And what can I call you?"
no subject
No matter how much it pains him.
Still, that weighty silence clings a lone beat longer, before Gabranth's own broad silhouette presses past Holden's own without any further formality— thick, dark cloak trailing so closely between them in passing that it might even catch Jim's side if he doesn't opt to move.
"Expect me soon."