[ 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

[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.

[vorrutyer]

Really? I've actually always been quite fond of zealots. They're so...predictable.

[latkje]

[ He makes a gesture acknowledging the point. But: ]

I have heard several prophesies about the end of the world. That hasn't made it less terrifying.

[vorrutyer]

Were any of them correct? With regards to the way in which the world ended.

[latkje]

I don't know. I didn't get to see it. [ Some of the tilt leaves his voice. ] I guess I'll have to take it on faith.

[vorrutyer]

Hm. And the religion you were a, ah...missionary for? It was missionary, right? Well. Any predictions there about the end of the world?

[latkje]

Where do you think I got the prophecies?

But I'm not really a missionary.

[vorrutyer]

[ Ah? Honesty, or a bit more lying? Byerly nods for Nash to continue, curious what he'll say. ]

[latkje]

I think the term you used is secret agent?

[ A pause. ]

I don't want to pretend to try to convert you.

[vorrutyer]

[ A slight blink. ]

Seems a poor secret agent who'd confess to being one.