WHO: Bastien & Kostos + Various WHAT: A catch-all WHEN: Harvestmere 9:47 WHERE: Mostly Kirkwall probably! NOTES: No open things but I will be delighted to plan & start things for you if you hit me up.
Mado isn't adept at reading or writing, and likely never will be, but he at least has come to recognize his own name; it's for this reason that he's able to find his desk, at which he smiles fondly moments before Kostos speaks to him.
He looks up at his cousin with an open, cheerful smile, like a breaker against an angry tide. "I like your friends, cugino," he says quietly, nodding to the skulls.
Three hours prior, Nikos Averesch--fresh off a ship and fresher off the ferry, sun-dark and a little thicker than he had been when last in the Gallows--had approached the common notice board and read the bulletin announcing this new feature. Two and half hours prior, Nikos had grudgingly dragged himself to find his desk assignment, and, when reading the nameplates of his desk neighbors, had considered throwing himself from the walls of the Gallows to be dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Or eaten by sharks, or, preferably, dashed to pieces and then said pieces would be eaten by sharks.
He had settled instead for fetching a saw and sawing the leg of one of the chairs right up near the seat so that it would be very weak and would collapse under any weight put upon it. And for the other, he had shoved a small stint of wood under one of the desk legs which would cause its legs to be unbalanced and the desk itself to be perilously wobbly.
So upon this hour, when Nikos enters the room and comes along to find his brother and his cousin in a one-sided standoff--well, he still does not look precisely happy. He does look neutral, which in of itself ought to be worrying.
"Maybe you both move."
Just a suggestion. That it will make Kostos dig his heels in and not move, and sit at his trapped desk, well, that won't exactly be Nikos' fault.
Kostos—who before Nikos' timely interruption had spent several seconds simply staring at Mado at a sullen loss for words—is quick to round that expression on his brother instead. His brother is less baffling.
"Maybe you fuck back off," he says, and, oblivious to his own predictability, sets his box of belongings on top of the desk with an air of finality. Any wobbling that may occur in the process is lost beneath the sound and movement of the wooden crate hitting the surface. "And take him with you. You can be agents in Antiva together. It will be adorable."
For his part, Mado's smile remains steadfastly printed onto his face, even if the little bit of tension around his eyes betrays that perhaps not all is as well as he wants it to be.
With trepidation, he gently opines: "we are all sensible grown people, yes? It could be nice, if--"
Then he pulls his chair out to sit in it, and instead watches as it collapses before him. The smile dies.
Nikos, who had not ceded ground but had instead lifted his chin defensively at Kostos' retort, now slides a glance over at Mado. A little smirk lifts the corners of his mouth.
"Riftwatch clearly spared no expense," he says. Deadpan drawl. He can't be blamed for this.
Kostos eyes the chair. It could be worse; Mado could have tried sitting in it before it fell apart. Since he didn't, there's nothing for Kostos to feel sorry for him about, because:
"What are you going do with a desk, anyway?"
He pulls out his own chair and lifts one foot to carefully press on the top of it. It holds.
Spending another couple moments staring at the chair, Mado looks up at Kostos. His smile is delayed, for the briefest moment betraying a tension in his eyes that he quickly masks over with professional ease.
"Sit at it," he answers simply, "and work on my letters, perhaps...! But first I must be able to sit."
With a grin pasted on as naturally as ever, he stoops to collect the pieces of the chair and walk away with them, aiming to deposit them near the door.
"Work on his letters," Nikos repeats unnecessarily, for Kostos' benefit. He's watching his brother because he is unfortunately almost always watching his brother when he's around, ignoring even other likely targets like Mado.
Of course when Mado begins to gather up the pieces of his desk, that naturally pulls attention.
"Don't waste those pieces. There's no money in the budget for new chairs. You'll have to rebuild it."
Kostos' answer to Nikos' repetition had only been what was very nearly a sympathetic (with Nikos, his shared captive in this surprise alleged-cousin relationship) Maker preserve us close of his eyes. And he has nothing to say about the chair. He turns back to his desk to resume putting his things on it, until one corner is weighed down enough by materials that it dips—just slightly, unnoticeable except for the thunk of the leg hitting the floor.
He pauses. But then he continues, excessively certain that this won't be a problem in the longterm.
Mado is half a pace away with the chair's pieces when Nikos corrects him, and though his grin is unbudging, something in his eyes goes a little distant.
"Oh," he says breezily, "well there's... there are quite a few empty chairs, aren't there?" He casts his gaze hopefully about the room. "I don't know how to build a chair."
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no subject
He looks up at his cousin with an open, cheerful smile, like a breaker against an angry tide.
"I like your friends, cugino," he says quietly, nodding to the skulls.
i hope this is ok but also how would it not be ok
He had settled instead for fetching a saw and sawing the leg of one of the chairs right up near the seat so that it would be very weak and would collapse under any weight put upon it. And for the other, he had shoved a small stint of wood under one of the desk legs which would cause its legs to be unbalanced and the desk itself to be perilously wobbly.
So upon this hour, when Nikos enters the room and comes along to find his brother and his cousin in a one-sided standoff--well, he still does not look precisely happy. He does look neutral, which in of itself ought to be worrying.
"Maybe you both move."
Just a suggestion. That it will make Kostos dig his heels in and not move, and sit at his trapped desk, well, that won't exactly be Nikos' fault.
no subject
"Maybe you fuck back off," he says, and, oblivious to his own predictability, sets his box of belongings on top of the desk with an air of finality. Any wobbling that may occur in the process is lost beneath the sound and movement of the wooden crate hitting the surface. "And take him with you. You can be agents in Antiva together. It will be adorable."
no subject
With trepidation, he gently opines: "we are all sensible grown people, yes? It could be nice, if--"
Then he pulls his chair out to sit in it, and instead watches as it collapses before him. The smile dies.
no subject
Nikos, who had not ceded ground but had instead lifted his chin defensively at Kostos' retort, now slides a glance over at Mado. A little smirk lifts the corners of his mouth.
"Riftwatch clearly spared no expense," he says. Deadpan drawl. He can't be blamed for this.
no subject
"What are you going do with a desk, anyway?"
He pulls out his own chair and lifts one foot to carefully press on the top of it. It holds.
no subject
"Sit at it," he answers simply, "and work on my letters, perhaps...! But first I must be able to sit."
With a grin pasted on as naturally as ever, he stoops to collect the pieces of the chair and walk away with them, aiming to deposit them near the door.
no subject
Of course when Mado begins to gather up the pieces of his desk, that naturally pulls attention.
"Don't waste those pieces. There's no money in the budget for new chairs. You'll have to rebuild it."
no subject
He pauses. But then he continues, excessively certain that this won't be a problem in the longterm.
no subject
"Oh," he says breezily, "well there's... there are quite a few empty chairs, aren't there?" He casts his gaze hopefully about the room. "I don't know how to build a chair."