( mostly closed )

[ettersberg]

Who: Thomas Nightingale (ettersberg) & various
What: dinner dates, accidentally stumbling about questers, a month in the life of one (1) thomas nightingale
When: january
Where: olympia
Warning(s): n/a (will warn in subject lines if anything comes up)

[ starters in comments. hit me up via pm or at abiosis if you'd like to do something! ]

Comments

[vorrutyer]

Which is why I'm here now.

[ettersberg]

I doubt that.

[ sorry, byerly. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ God. Why do bad things happen to...Well. Why do bad things happen to mediocre people? ]

What else would I be here for?

[ettersberg]

I was hoping you'd tell me.

[ go on, byerly. he hasn't ratted you out yet. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ By licks his lips - and then, decisively, flashes a smile at Nightingale. ]

Let's go somewhere a bit more private.

[ettersberg]

So you can tell me?

[ he'd like confirmation first, thank you very much. ]

[vorrutyer]

Worried I'll jump you?

[ettersberg]

Worried you'll not tell me.

[ he doesn't think he'd particularly mind being jumped, but - he's working. it would be entirely unprofessional to say as much. ]

[vorrutyer]

I think I'm hurt. Aren't you even a little bit scared of me?

[ettersberg]

[ at that, nightingale's gaze sharpens. ]

Should I be?

[vorrutyer]

Of course.

[ He tilts his head to the side. He doesn't know why he's taunting him in this way - it's not smart. Trying to recover a little lost dignity, maybe. ]

All men are teeming hives of malice, after all.

[ettersberg]

Perhaps.

[ mildly, for all that his gaze remains sharply focused on byerly. ]

And what malice are you considering?

[vorrutyer]

Tearing your shirtfront and taking ruthless advantage of you?

[ His mouth turns up in wry amusement. ]

Blackjacking you on the back of the head? It's hard to say, isn't it? I am, after all, still something of a mystery to you.

[ettersberg]

You are.

[ but - ]

That does not make me helpless, you realise.

[vorrutyer]

No?

[ He tilts his head slightly to the side. ]

Are you fearsome?

[ettersberg]

Do you fear me?

[ nightingale asks, instead of talking about the things he is capable of doing. ]

[vorrutyer]

Of course.

[ He smiles, the expression ambiguous. ]

Everyone is to be feared.

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale's features convey surprise, for just a moment, before rearranging into something more neutral. ]

That seems a cynical way to live.

[ cynical - or lonely. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ He casts a sidelong glance at Nightingale, his lips curving up. ]

Perhaps. You avoid cynicism?

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale gives the question some thought. does he?

in the end, he settles on -- ] I'd like to think I try.

[ he hasn't always managed. certainly not after the war -- though it hadn't been cynicism so much as something else entirely dragging him down in that period. ]

[vorrutyer]

Ah.

[ He lifts his eyebrows. ]

But there are uses to cynicism.

[ettersberg]

Like?

[ nightingale's head tilts a little to one side as he studies byerly. ]

[vorrutyer]

Suspicion, for one.

[ He tucks a hand loosely into his pocket. His posture is relaxed. ]

A cynical, suspicious man keeps his eye on the people around him.

[ettersberg]

So does an observant man.

[vorrutyer]

Does he. And are you an observant man?