WHO: Loki, Erik, Adrasteia & y'all WHAT: Catch-all WHEN: Late Solace / Early August WHERE: Kirkwall NOTES: Language warning for Erik, otherwise nothing yet. Open starters in comments.
Erik snorts, amused. "Yeah, she's kinda like that." He likes Wysteria and all, but the woman could probably talk the bark off of a tree. He thinks she'd make an appropriately terrifying politician though.
Abby talks about wearing herself out and Erik nods along. He knows that song and dance well. "But then you're awake anyway, because of whatever shit." Nightmares and what the fuck ever else. "Prolly not the safest thing, combat trainin' in the dark like this, but I've done worse before."
He moves closer to see how she's fastening the glaives, shakes his head. "Nah, these have to overlap, like this. Otherwise it just slides the fuck off."
If he spoke it aloud, Abby would have to agree with that sentiment. Wholeheartedly.
"Yeah," is all she can really say to that, because it'sā well, nail on the head, really, but she doesn't want to talk about that. The nightmares have been especially bad, lately. He's a stranger. No part of this conversation promises to gel.
The grieves are a good distraction for them both. She snorts at his direction, glancing up at the way he shows her his own to make sure she's doing it correctly. When they're on, she smacks them with the hilt of her weapon, and it makes a satisfying sound. "Thanks. Think I'm good without the rest. Have to get used to this first."
They shift with her as she gets to her feet, slightly weighty in a way she knows will mean her legs are going to be sore tomorrow. Fuck it. Abby relishes it.
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Abby talks about wearing herself out and Erik nods along. He knows that song and dance well. "But then you're awake anyway, because of whatever shit." Nightmares and what the fuck ever else. "Prolly not the safest thing, combat trainin' in the dark like this, but I've done worse before."
He moves closer to see how she's fastening the glaives, shakes his head. "Nah, these have to overlap, like this. Otherwise it just slides the fuck off."
um did i mean grieves? mumble mumble mumble
"Yeah," is all she can really say to that, because it'sā well, nail on the head, really, but she doesn't want to talk about that. The nightmares have been especially bad, lately. He's a stranger. No part of this conversation promises to gel.
The grieves are a good distraction for them both. She snorts at his direction, glancing up at the way he shows her his own to make sure she's doing it correctly. When they're on, she smacks them with the hilt of her weapon, and it makes a satisfying sound. "Thanks. Think I'm good without the rest. Have to get used to this first."
They shift with her as she gets to her feet, slightly weighty in a way she knows will mean her legs are going to be sore tomorrow. Fuck it. Abby relishes it.