[...ah. once again, he doesn't answer immediately, reaching up to touch the chain.
he tugs it out from beneath his robes, after a moment; it's a gold ring, scratched and dented, too large for ryn. when he speaks, it's with a very faint smile, his tone remaining quiet.]
I'd be very surprised if he did, considering he's been dead a decade or so.
[a slight shrug. there's not as much lightness in his tone as he maybe wants there to be, like he's trying to prove he can do it and not quite making it there.]
[In any other situation, in any other context, this is where a snappy offhand remark would fall from Thancred's silver tongue. The absence herein is conspicuous.]
I'm sorry.
[He settles back a touch, physically affording Ryn a sliver of space in tandem with a similar span of the emotional sort.]
[He tips his head to the side, flashing a clear view of his Archon marks.]
You recall my explanation of these? He's earned his as well, though his focus of study was in prophecy. Divination, visions, that sort of thing. We've traveled together, as well. Extensively. 'Tis a comfortable sort of acquaintance.
[thancred you act like an old married couple, is what you're describing]
Oh, so you're missing the brains of the operation. I see.
[still teasing. he seems to have shoved away any lingering feelings after being asked about the ring, and he's finding somewhere to sit as he gestures for thancred to come along. come on, he'll sit so you can stop complaining about height.]
[And you know, maybe if Ryn hadn't been such a brat about the height thing, events wouldn't unfold the way they're about to, but when one is disrespectful of another man's calves, one really should expect he might have to forfeit a part of his leg of his own.
Cue Thancred also making himself comfortable — staying facing Ryn, but taking his own seat by perching his weight atop Ryn's thighs. An instant recipe for both-legs-pins-and-needles-asleep disease.]
It's that or being my prisoner now, I suppose.
[OR JUST PUSH HIM OFF LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES RYN THAT WORKS TOO]
[-ah. he does in fact seem for a second like he might push him off like a sack of potatoes, both hands settled on thancred's arms, tension threaded through his posture-- but it's a little late for it, after the initial moment has passed.
with his weight resting there, it's fairly clear that he's only going to inflict pins-and-needles on one leg. the other has none of the give you would expect from flesh, just below the top of the thigh, and it's about as comfortable to rest on as you'd expect from some sort of metal.]
[Well. That's. You don't spend your youth in Limsa Lominsa and not become intimately acquainted with people missing all sorts of limbs in all manner of configurations, so it doesn't take more than a moment before he realizes both the source of Ryn's tension and what it is he's seated himself upon.
Unintentionally rude of him, then, wasn't it. Look at him scramble to yeet himself back off again.]
[considering the lengths rynlan goes to in order to make sure of it, that's not surprising. but-- he does gesture to the space beside him, after thancred's moved. sit, you're not getting kicked out.
after a few moments, he adds-]
...I doubt by now that it'd be a risk with you, specifically, but I haven't wanted everyone to-- after Hunter was first, I don't want to seem like any more of a target than absolutely necessary.
...That's part of it, then. Your reluctance to the searches.
[His body language is altogether chastised at this point, quite the shift from his previous easy, languid movements. And yet he's not being reluctant either — just cautious. Like he's making certain of every boundary before tiptoeing near it.
The space next to Ryn will do fine enough; he settles in.]
No one will know. 'Tis a fact I'll forget the moment I leave this room.
Part of it, yes. It's- I effectively had to retire due to injury. Can't always tell, I've gotten good at that, but it's more extensive than just this.
[he's fairly sure if everyone knew his actual condition, he'd be up there on the list of easy targets, and it wouldn't be wrong, either. he doesn't have magic to defend with; he'd just have to be smart about it.]
Two or three others know out of necessity. I'd prefer to keep it that way.
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[And Ryn gets a quick smooch, as if to convey no hard feelings. Keep the mood light. That sort of thing.]
Who gave you your necklace?
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he tugs it out from beneath his robes, after a moment; it's a gold ring, scratched and dented, too large for ryn. when he speaks, it's with a very faint smile, his tone remaining quiet.]
It's something I gave someone else, actually.
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[And strangely enough, that makes him smile, too. Small, and a little distant, and maybe even a little nostalgic.]
The owner of that's not going to come for my head, are they?
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[a slight shrug. there's not as much lightness in his tone as he maybe wants there to be, like he's trying to prove he can do it and not quite making it there.]
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I'm sorry.
[He settles back a touch, physically affording Ryn a sliver of space in tandem with a similar span of the emotional sort.]
I'm glad you have it back. 'Tis good that you do.
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[his ears flick in annoyance, and he exhales a sigh; he doesn't chase thancred to close that space again, but he also doesn't create more.]
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[Ah, there's the shitty sense of humor again.]
I've not been so fortunate, myself. All they've seen fit to gift me is a memento of an old friend — and one I can't even make use of, myself.
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[he remembers reading that, he's fairly sure.]
...tell me about this friend of yours, then.
[that's his exchange question.]
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[He tips his head to the side, flashing a clear view of his Archon marks.]
You recall my explanation of these? He's earned his as well, though his focus of study was in prophecy. Divination, visions, that sort of thing. We've traveled together, as well. Extensively. 'Tis a comfortable sort of acquaintance.
[thancred you act like an old married couple, is what you're describing]
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[a wry little smile, there. maybe things would be very different, if he had.]
He's someone you find yourself at ease with, then?
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[fuckin. ELVES.]
But yes. I suppose you could say we're something of a natural fit, covering both the practical and theoretical. He's every bit the scholar I'm not.
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[still teasing. he seems to have shoved away any lingering feelings after being asked about the ring, and he's finding somewhere to sit as he gestures for thancred to come along. come on, he'll sit so you can stop complaining about height.]
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[but hey, he's following, so maybe he's just proving his own point...]
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Have you? I don't remember being consulted about this...
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Cue Thancred also making himself comfortable — staying facing Ryn, but taking his own seat by perching his weight atop Ryn's thighs. An instant recipe for both-legs-pins-and-needles-asleep disease.]
It's that or being my prisoner now, I suppose.
[OR JUST PUSH HIM OFF LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES RYN THAT WORKS TOO]
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with his weight resting there, it's fairly clear that he's only going to inflict pins-and-needles on one leg. the other has none of the give you would expect from flesh, just below the top of the thigh, and it's about as comfortable to rest on as you'd expect from some sort of metal.]
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[Well. That's. You don't spend your youth in Limsa Lominsa and not become intimately acquainted with people missing all sorts of limbs in all manner of configurations, so it doesn't take more than a moment before he realizes both the source of Ryn's tension and what it is he's seated himself upon.
Unintentionally rude of him, then, wasn't it. Look at him scramble to yeet himself back off again.]
My apologies. I shouldn't have.
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[considering the lengths rynlan goes to in order to make sure of it, that's not surprising. but-- he does gesture to the space beside him, after thancred's moved. sit, you're not getting kicked out.
after a few moments, he adds-]
...I doubt by now that it'd be a risk with you, specifically, but I haven't wanted everyone to-- after Hunter was first, I don't want to seem like any more of a target than absolutely necessary.
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[His body language is altogether chastised at this point, quite the shift from his previous easy, languid movements. And yet he's not being reluctant either — just cautious. Like he's making certain of every boundary before tiptoeing near it.
The space next to Ryn will do fine enough; he settles in.]
No one will know. 'Tis a fact I'll forget the moment I leave this room.
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[he's fairly sure if everyone knew his actual condition, he'd be up there on the list of easy targets, and it wouldn't be wrong, either. he doesn't have magic to defend with; he'd just have to be smart about it.]
Two or three others know out of necessity. I'd prefer to keep it that way.
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[He slides his hand across the bedspread, only just far enough that one finger grazes lightly against the side of Ryn's.]
It's safe with me. I promise you.
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I'll hold you to that, you know.
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[thancred]
...Does this mean I owe you a second Loporrit?
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[he's laughing a little, though, shaking his head.]
Swear on your life anyway, I like the sound of it better.
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[But two things are different this time, when he leans over and in to invade Ryn's personal space for the whateverth time this night:
First, he doesn't hesitate or hold back. And second, the kiss lands on his cheek, like a promise in and of itself.]
You're safe with me. I swear on my life.
[#TankBehavior]
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