[ closed ]

[latkje]

Who: Byerly (vorrutyer) & Nash (latkje)
What: Magic!
When: After the conclusion of the disease plot.
Where: On the road from Wyver to Olympia.
Warning(s): 504 Gateway Time-out

[ The road from Wyver to Olympia is well-travelled and well-packed, the long stretches of monotony preventing Nash from enjoying the landscape. Travel was supposed to bring variety, he thought, new sights, new sounds— not the same thing, over and over. It was hard to tell how far they'd come, at least in the physical sense. ]

At least we're done with that awful humidity. [ He runs a hand through his hair— short and wavy, it had gotten unruly in the heat. ] I have a northern constitution, if you didn't know. [ And a northern fashion sense, as Harmonian clothes tended toward the dour and conservative. Nash was also in the habit of wearing gloves. He's wearing them now, in fact. ] There are some things I just wasn't made for.

[ That hangs in the air a moment, then he turns to actually look at Byerly. ]

But you wanted to talk about magic.

Comments

[latkje]

Illness does usually take longer.

[ There's a waver in his tone. He does feel guilty, though it's not nearly so terrible as it once was.]

How did your father die?

[vorrutyer]

Mine?

[ He pushes his free hand into his pocket. By doesn't know whether that waver is genuine, or if it's faked to get him to feel guilty and back off. If it is faked...Well. It works. Dammit. ]

Hasn't yet. Still alive. Just in cryo-stasis, like the rest of them. [ He waves his cigarette at the sky. ] Simply dead to me.

[latkje]

And the rest of your family? Dead to you too?

[ He still doesn't understand this cigarette, but he's trying. ]

I have an aunt.

[vorrutyer]

[ Avoiding the question: ]

Yes? What's she like?

[latkje]

Terrifying and responsible. Responsible and terrifying? [ A shrug— there isn't a way that sounds better. ] She's a captain in the Temple Guard.

By the way, I'm going to take your avoidance of the question as confirmation that you do have other relatives and they're not all dead to you. Or you'd like them not to be. We're [ he moves his fingers between the two of them ] in a bit of a situation, at present. [ What with everyone being at least quasi-dead at present. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ There's a moment before, grudgingly: ]

Apologies, fellow. Hardly avoiding the question, just forgot about it. Yes, there are a few I'm on decent terms with, though very few. My family is largely vile.

[latkje]

Noble families usually are. If milord will pardon my impertinence.

[ He says this with exaggerated deference. He knows Byerly was definitely avoiding the question. But whatever sordid family past he's covering up is merely interesting, and not necessarily useful. ]

Anyway, I presume you'd like some way to defend yourself against hostile magic.

[vorrutyer]

[ By's eyes narrow for just a moment, and then he shrugs. He's not done with the subject of Nash's background; after all, his goal - more than any other - is to figure out how to get a handle on the fellow. Far better than fumbling around with magic you're terrible at is having the ability to steer a mage in the direction you want them. ]

Yes, that'd be grand, dear fellow. How would I do that?

[latkje]

[ Ah, so By was really interested in the angsts of his early twenties. Interesting. ]

Shutting them up generally does it. [ Cheerfully. ] Usually there's a spell for that, but a gag would do just as well.

[vorrutyer]

Seems hard to apply a gag in the heat of battle. I am not, alas, quite that practiced at the art of perversion.

[latkje]

[ He makes a show of thinking about it. ]

I guess you're right. The other trick I'd try is distraction. Like I told you, casting requires a certain vacancy of the mind— and yeah, I think you can figure out a couple of ways to fill a vacancy.

[vorrutyer]

Ah. Do you show your enemies those magnificent breasts of yours?

[latkje]

[ Okay, that gets him. He blanches a bit, and has to run a hand through his hair. But he recovers. ]

I see you get the idea. But if you're trying to get me to take my shirt off, you're going to need a little more spark.

[vorrutyer]

[ A sigh. ]

If only. But as you made clear, it'd be wasted effort. Pity...You are gorgeous. Easily the most beautiful man I've seen in a very long time.

[ Byerly flicks his eyelashes down at Nash. ]

[latkje]

[ Byerly does have nice eyelashes. Nash grins. ]

That seems like a lie. [ And how could you even tell without a loving description of his chest hair? ]

[vorrutyer]

Does it?

[ He tilts his head slightly to the side, runs his tongue lightly over his lower lip. ]

Who do you think is lovelier?

[latkje]

Most of the people they've woken up aren't bad looking. [ It's a trend. ] The king of Wyver has dragon blood in his veins, though I personally shudder to think how it got there. [ But he has thought about it. ] But consider the dynastic possibilities! And I'm, you know, hardly in my first blush of maidenhood.

Yes. I think you could do worse. [ He says that with a bit of a moralistic chide, like the last word was better instead of the opposite. ]

[vorrutyer]

Hypospray? Gene-splicing?

[ Heavens, now his mind is filled with images of humans and dragons - Well. Anyway. ]

But why do you list the last one as a drawback? I do like a bit of experience.

[latkje]

[ An appropriately blank stare for your little gene-splicing comment. ]

Age doesn't always have much to do with that. [ A pause. ] How old do you think I am?

[vorrutyer]

Dear lady!

[ He presses a hand to his chest, aghast. ]

I know better than to fall into that trap.

[latkje]

Oh, so now you don't want to flatter me. You probably shouldn't, incidentally, it's not the way into my withered heart. You're gonna need to be more subtle, if you want to manipulate me.

[ But maybe that is flattery? ]

[vorrutyer]

Ah, but perhaps I just want to flirt without truly tempting you to break your vows. Because you won't, right? Under any circumstances?

[latkje]

Don't be so sure. [ A reflexive response. ] There's nothing scarier than certainty.

[vorrutyer]

[ A little grin. ]

Oh, I don't know. I think the scariest possibility is that you won't return my affections at all. Oh - and heights. I detest heights.

[latkje]

I'll stick with certainty. All the truly terrifying people I have ever met knew one thing, absolutely.