voidshift | [superhell pcs] thancred

Maybe so. I don't know, he seems like he might snap in that situation.

Ah, you don't like them. What's your grudge? Color me curious.

Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with most of them in small doses. Blue braided my hair last week.

[but- he hums.]

They're still-- well, you know. Here to torment us. Talking to them can be just as infuriating as it is interesting.

Well. We've been inconvenienced, certainly, but as torments go...

[Oh. Oh.]

The only one of us here I'd describe as tormented is — would have been, Barnes.

...do you think that has something to do with why he'd be pushed so far?

If it does, it certainly bodes ill for the rest of us.

It means any one of us might be targeted next. And potentially succumb.

I haven't really seen any signs of it. Honestly, it's possible he was just too easy a target...

[don't be rude to the dead.]

But I do try to speak with all of them when I can. See if I can't figure them out a bit.

Oh, have you? I wonder what you've figured out about me, then.

[He waits a beat, then laughs softly.]

I'm joking. Frankly, anyone in a situation like this who isn't taking the measure of those around him is a fool.

I mean our demons, as well, but I am keeping an eye on the rest. Defeats the purpose if I just tell you what I think I know, though, doesn't it?

[he's also joking, judging by the lighter tone.]

And to think, I've shared information with you so freely. How you wound me with your cutting recalcitrance.

[He says, gripping his chest dramatically before reaching for his beer.]

To think you were that easily wounded! I wouldn't have thought so.

[he likes the dramatics-- this one, he thinks, is more entertaining than most, taking another drink from his own cup.]

I've little armor to shield against an arrow straight to the heart. Or a knife to the back, whichever metaphor you prefer.

[But then he pauses a minute, as an uncertain flash of emotion flickers briefly through his gaze, before almost without meaning to he begins: ]

I m—

[And just as quickly, bites the thought off.]

-Thancred?

[he glances back over to him when he cuts himself off, peering at him over the rims of his glasses. are you good?]

...Mm. Passing strange, never mind.

[BETTER DRINK MORE BEER.]

...I see.

[he wants to press, but-- there's enough he prefers not to be pressed on that he stops short of it.]

Well, if there's anything you do need to discuss, you're free to ask.

No, it's nothing, just a— just—

[He frowns again, scowling a little as he looks down at himself like there are answers to be found in his coat and body armor.]

Nothing. The way you offered that jest. 'Twas...

[He winces.]

— nostalgic.

-sorry to press on the wound, then.

[it is, at least, a feeling he's familiar with.]

Another drink?

Something stronger than cheap beer, mayhap. Interested?

Very. I've gotten tired of cheap beer by now.

[hmm. he observes their options, for a moment.]

Number Nine sounds more interesting, if you ask me.

A lucky number, nine. All right, let's have at it. Why not.

Let's hope it's lucky enough.

[he'll obtain two of them, then, sliding one to thancred and taking a quick sip from his own--

after which his ears both perk, glowing eyes widening behind his glasses.]

How-- I know this flavor.

Really? Now I'm even more curious to try it — a flavor from your native star.

[He takes his glass easily, spins it once on the countertop to make the glass rattle aesthetically against the wood of the bar — just for the pleasure of the sound. And then, with smooth confidence, he takes a drink himself.

And likewise startles.]

...Uncanny. I could swear this was —

Wait, it's familiar to you too?

[his ears flick, as he looks between their glasses.]

It tastes exactly like the Suntouched estate special reserve, to me, but I'd honestly be surprised if you'd ever had mana-infused wines.

[He just blinks a minute, still staring at the glass.]

Do you know the feeling, when you taste or smell something you've not thought about in years, and then all of a sudden it brings back a memory as though it were as fresh as yesterday?

[Brow furrowed, he takes up the glass and tastes it again, like he's trying to confirm something. Sets it down again. And then, glances at Ryn before tugging down his coat collar to indicate one of his Archon marks.]

I drank this the night I earned these. A celebration of my achievement, and a bottle straight out of my mentor's personal collection. I've not had the like since.

I do. It's a little bit like that for me, too.

[that winery doesn't produce anything, anymore.

when thancred indicates the mark, he leans in a little to look at it, curious. some kind of achievement, is it-- well, never let it be said that he doesn't like competence in a man.]

A tattoo? It must be a high achievement, if the mark you earn for it's permanent.

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