[ Reyes got busier than expected today -- that was fine. Balthier came by while the other worked to just be around or see to matters of his own often enough that he was used to Reyes's time being occupied. Honestly, the normalcy of it and the sense that they could keep on their separate lives in each others' vicinity was a good deal of the appeal. And maybe the affectionate looks and soft touches and stolen kisses between. It was a good spread, all told.
Balthier's preoccupied, besides. He and Fran have just returned from a trip to Ivalice -- probably another reason he just wants to be near to Reyes -- and both Ashe and Larsa have renewed their offers to make a position for him, some sort of interplanetary affairs piece. He doesn't want it. He doesn't want anything that ties him down or locks him in or forces him to play some part he hasn't agreed to.
But, Scions, they need it. He's about the only person with any experience on this side of the galaxy, who has any sense what the peoples out here want and expect, or what of Ivalice's could be valuable. He's trying. He could get the right people in touch, keep any eye; he doesn't mind being an informant. And he doesn't want Ivalice getting taken advantage of or left behind, or worse, being attacked for its resources. So he's started to massage his networks, drop information here and there, see what starts to come out of the woodwork and intelligence networks alike.
Of course, the pay of a real position would be nice. But being an official would require residency. Formal ceremonies. Dressing like his damn father.
Being away more.
He sighs. He's had this back in forth in his head about seventy times now. Fran will laugh at him later, and tell him to toss it to the skies and let the winds steer them. She's better at that than he is. ]
[Sometimes he felt bad when Balthier came around and he was actually busy. Not just sitting on his ass in Tartarus answering emails and delegating things to his people. He'd only managed a quick kiss and the promise of being back soon before he'd headed out.
Maybe the 'soon' wasn't as soon as he'd have liked, the meet up with some contacts went slightly sideways, until it didn't and that was aggravating enough, but then Keema wanted to see him. So there was that as well. Talking through some more delicate things, policies and the like. Running a trade port was a lot of work, especially behind the shadows, but he had a lot of good people to help. Still, he's apologetic when he messages Balthier to let him know he'll be done soon.]
I hope you've not died of boredom, kitten.
[Not that he has any doubts Balthier could easily keep himself entertained. Kadara Port had more than enough ways to get into trouble, that and a good drink. Or both.
He'll sweep into his home not long after the messages, eager to pull off his gloves and get out of his suit into something more comfortable and enjoy the sky pirate's company.]
How goes Ivalice?
[Off come his boots and he'll smile over at Balthier, shrugging partially out of that damnable suit.]
It'd be nice to join you again soon, it's hard to forget how beautiful it was.
[ Balthier is perfectly aware of the risks that come with showing up somewhat unannounced; truly, he doesn't mind. It's worth the brief contact after some time away. And, honestly, he likes the way Reyes is conflicted about leaving -- even if he'd never dream of keeping him from work -- and the promise of returning. Besides, he likes having Reyes's full attention so he'd rather wait.
He's busy enough with his own things he needs to follow up on, and collecting his thoughts besides. He's learned to use technology, but he still keeps and honest-to-god notebook in his looping handwriting. Can't hack a notebook, and he's careful to keep it secure. At home it would have been magicked to only open for him, but, well, no Mist.
In all honesty, he's starting to wonder if he should go home and try Reyes again another day, maybe with some warning, when the text comes, and he's grinning like a teenager hanging around for their first love. ]
Deceased. I now haunt your apartment.
[ The text gives him enough time to put his things away, transition his own head back to the present, and put in a food delivery order. He suspects Reyes hasn't eaten today, and he'd very much like to stay in curled up together. When Reyes gets in, he'll have a drink ready for each of them, smiling as Reyes goes to free himself from his suit. He quite likes that he's one of the only people to see Reyes in regular clothes on the regular, and he also likes how a few of his shirts have made it into the rotation.
He'll sip at his drink, perching against the arm of a couch as Reyes moves about the apartment. ]
Chaotic. Busy. Clamoring for my attention. You'd think a territory couldn't survive without its favorite hero.
[ Which was its own headache. He still isn't used to being so recognized. Freedom of movement is more limited because of it. Anything he does is likely to be reported ten times over, make it back to Ashe and Larsa, who were lovely to see but painfully limited and distant because of the constraints of office. Nothing's the same these days. Some of that certainly makes it into his face and the pitch of his voice. ]
It was also sorely lacking a certain beautiful smuggler. Say the word and I'll whisk you away again, preferably with less near-death dramatics. I haven't even begun to show you the beauty.
[ Not entirely true; they had that stunning view, and Rabanstre is lovely. But they'd both been so tired that they'd spent a good deal of the trip in the Strahl or just wandering the city's markets. Hardly a taste of the vast region. ]
Also, come here. [ He beckons as Reyes looks more settled, crossing to catch him by the waist and kiss him properly. Hello. I missed you. ]
[Balthier perched like a cat on the arm of his couch is a sight that's hard to keep his eyes off as he gets comfortable. He'd change into something else, but the shirt and pants under his suit are fine for the moment. Besides, he's kept Balthier waiting long enough hasn't he?]
Stop being so good at playing hero and maybe they'll forget you.
[He highly doubts it, how could anyone forget someone like Balthier? Someone like him was meant to be remembered. There's more to Balthier's words though, but perhaps that was something to question after they'd settled in. There's a drink waiting for him and he'll happily pluck that up, enjoying some as Balthier speaks of whisking him away to Ivalice again. Honestly that would be lovely and he'd not argue against it sometime in the near future, Rabanastre had been delightful with the sky pirate as his guide, he couldn't remember being so full after all of the street food they'd tried.
The nap that followed back on the Strahl had been just as pleasant.]
I'm lucky that I get a piece of Ivalice all to myself.
[Beckoned over he'll smile warmly, hand up to hold his drink out of the way as he's pulled into a kiss. Reyes sighs into it, tired, but delighted that now they can relax together. Everything is worth it to have these moments.]
The late afternoon sun tints the room a rosy gold, reflecting off the copper of the buildings to cast everything in an ethereal glow. One of the few things Balthier always missed about Archades. So many afternoons spent as a child with his mother, making art in that magical hour of perfect light.
Today, David sits out on the balcony reading, the fall air playful and lovely. Balthier has a perch in a chair, tilted out so he can see David. In his lap is a small notebook he often keeps with him but has never actually let David see; by now it's filled with small sketches of the man he loves, stolen when the other is busy.
Maybe it's how long they've been together now, maybe it's the disarming pleasantry of good light and weather from a bright spot in his youth, maybe it's the way steeling away to an apartment like this makes it easy to feel like everything else can be put aside for awhile -- whatever the reason, Balthier is more relaxed, and so when he stands to go pour himself fresh tea and pull an offering of snacks for David, he leaves the notebook open on the table beside him.
The book is a good one, a wonderful one actually. Not a history or a play, but something purely fanciful. Which is educational in its own way, but mostly it makes him think of the peace and freedom he has found. And he cool air almost feels a bit more like home, so sitting and reading is nice.
Balthier's arrival on the balcony is almost expected, and both the man and the light repast are met with a soft smile. And the notebook with curiosity.
"Am I being afforded another measure of trust today?"
"Seemed like it might be time," he says, kissing David's head before settling in the chair beside him, sipping at his tea and looking out. A stunning view, high enough up to see the airships and the plants tumbling from balconies and up the sides of buildings.
When he was a boy, he dreamed of having this -- someone he loved, quiet leisure time spent together, a life full of adventure. He'd tucked that dream away, slowly, until he'd forgotten it. Looking back at David, he'll give a soft smile of his own. Peace and freedom indeed.
The notebook is sweet, intimate. There are dozens of drawings, the earlier ones a little rougher, not quite always getting his likeness, but get more consistent with time, preoccupied with the way he tilts his head or the way he curls up in a chair, some trying to capture those beautiful looks he gives Balthier without him realizing he's being drawn. It's abundantly apparent Balthier has spent a lot of time looking.
"I knew you drew," he said, turning his gaze to the paper but not opening it past the page it was on now, "I just didn't realize I was considered a worthy subject."
They're more common on my world, I think. They had possessed my father for quite some time. My team and I took them down in battle -- had bound demi-gods that fought with us. It helped that this god had been disowned by his counsel.
（ she never really learned to hide her expressions, them being mostly entombed behind a mask, so her face is twisted into quizzical empathy. for all that text is distance, it's hard not to react. ）
（ it takes her a moment to suss out what safe looks like for her. she's never really had much occasion to differentiate — she wasn't cooked up in granny helene's lab to be safe. clones are expected to fight and die so others don't have to, their experiences are preserved, their knowledge passed down.
she chews on her bottom lip. ）
for today.
（ it's really all she's got. the leviathans aren't her enemy anymore, that's all she knows. but if they aren't, others will be. ）
[ as a sky pirate, he'd been to "towns" that ranged from outposts of three people and barely tamed fiends to the imperial capital, which was, arguably, a fancy cage hiding the worst monsters of all ]
tongue and firearm tend to be my blades of choice magick isn't out of the question, though. nor is a good crossbow. Right tool for the task; right tool for the man.
"yet" will never become an occasion for my work if i have anything to say about it more people could use purely creative pastimes and it would not hurt to be less secretive about them
[ Balthier may be a pirate, but let no one say he doesn't honor his bets.
Which is why they're tucked away in the corner of the restaurant, near enough the open floor to ceiling windows that the night air wafts in, blocked from much of the dining room's view by tall screens and large potted plants. He had chosen the place in part for strategic exit and the ease of getting a secluded table; they are, after all, two wanted men who are supposed to be dead. But there's also something undoubtedly pleasant to the tile floors and rich textiles on the walls and babble of a fountain nearby, the way conversation and dinner and life just happens around them but doesn't demand anything of them. It's almost surreal, having the chance to do this amid everything else going on.
Really, he doesn't like to lose, but this was the better outcome, even if it's taking a good deal of self-restraint not to sigh at Basch's very out of place outfit. Were it not part of the bet, he'd have leaned heavily on the need to blend in, but alas. He is a man of his word. ]
Are you letting me order for you as well? Or did my services end at selecting the venue?
[ Basch has agreed to more than Balthier expected just in coming out; he's not going to push his luck. But he absolutely has asked around as to what the best house dishes are, and he'll be damned if he doesn't order more than enough food and insist the other eat his fill. The former captain looks healthier these days, the sallowness leaving his skin and his weight slowly improving. Recovery is slow, though. Physical and mental. ]
1. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I hold the title of prettiest boy in town. 2. Captain means you follow my orders or you're off this shift. 3. You told me you were into literature. Loveless is not literature.
We both know the theater is not for drowning anything. But I shall celebrate the acclaim of my handsome features with fine wine. You, of course, shall have to soothe your wounded spirit in the same.
[ Between traveling by foot in a filthy dungeon then walking across the sands in the desert sun, Balthier's body and temper are in desperate need of a bath, even with how charmed his garments are against sweat and smell.
He'd be lying if he said his thoughts had not turned, regularly and with curiosity, toward their new knight companion. He speaks little, lends a hand to defend without being asked, and there's a hollowness to his eyes and worrying thinness to his frame. Neither are a surprise, not with two years in that hell of a prison. What is surprising is his immediate commitment to the princess, and his very clear tolerance for the pirates.
He does cut his hair, he does pull on the discarded uniform of some man of iller fate. But Balthier suspects -- with a kindness he would never admit to possessing -- the others' spirit is in need of some mending.
So, at breakfast at their inn in Rabanstre on their second day, he claps Basch cheerily on the shoulder. ]
Eaten? Good. You're coming with me. I need a bodyguard for the baths.
[ He does not, but it's the best string to pull. ]
And I've already paid for it so do not waste dear Princess's coin.
[ Also not her coin, but she isn't there to sell him out. ]
It's been a long time since he rode as a passenger on a ship, and he'll admit the five-story sky cruiser is luxury. Decks full of ballrooms and bars and singers and finely adorned rooms, and a leisurely pace that will put them at port in a few days' time. He doesn't like feeling trapped, even if he has back up should something go south, but it was the best way to gather intel on his target without raising suspicion and, well, it's not the worst thing to dress nicely and enjoy himself.
It just never quite settles properly. He's restless, prone to looking over his shoulder -- metaphorically; he'd never give up his identity like that -- and feels like an imposter in a way he hasn't in a long time. Maybe because, had he never run away, this life would have been his.
He does manage to slip through some no entry and sound confident enough to make it up to a private service area of the top deck, above the lights and sounds. The fresh air and bright stars make him feel like his lungs finally inflate.
There's someone else there, and he doesn't really mind if they're worker or noble or something more nefarious. He leans on the rail, trailing his fingers across the wind currents.
"All that beauty, and the sky still wins. Humans are gluttons for punishment, hmm?"
It's just another trip across the skies for Amelia, taking her from one city to the next to deliver one set of appropriated goods before picking up the next. This ship is certainly nicer than some of the others she's been on as of late, but it's still just a means to an end.
She's done her time on the lower decks, woven her way among the various peoples of varying levels of wealth. She's heard their secrets, perhaps taken trinkets they don't need, and still finds herself on edge at the end of the night. Not because she's worried of being robbed or found out, but because she never truly sleeps well surrounded by so many people she doesn't know. It doesn't help that her quarters aren't private this trip and that her roommate has a tendency to paw about with her hands rather than using a light when needing to move about in the dark. People really need to keep their hands to themselves if they want to keep them.
Her head and shoulders rise from where she's leaned over the rail when the sound of footsteps reach her ears. She turns to him, following his approach with hazel eyes. Her head tilts slightly to one side when he speaks, her hairpin tinkling lightly from high in her braided and pinned up hair. Tonight she's dressed simply, dark green linens with a complementary brown leather underbust corset and matching boots over them, all of her covered from neck to toes.
"Maybe they're reaching for the beauty of the stars with what they create," she returns curiously. Her body settles against the rail again, still turned slightly in his direction. "Or perhaps some of us simply prefer the sky to the gaudy on the decks below. Electric lights can't capture anything as magnificent as this." She lifts a hand and gestures out to the sky above them.
"Unless there's some other reason for your asking, stranger." A prompt for more information without being too obvious. She wonders how he'll take it.
"The worthwhile ones certainly are," he agrees. He has every respect for artists and thinkers. Whoever designed the craft had a good eye, conviction. A decent amount of the art and furniture is good. But inevitably these things become mindless, diluted experiences catering to ticket sales. That, and he resents being kept on a course of someone else's choosing.
"But I tend to agree that nothing comes close to the actual views. Though I appreciate a little spectacle now and then."
He comes to lean on the rail nearby, not close enough to reach -- or spook -- her, but close enough that they're having an actual conversation.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Just bored and testing the currents for this conversation. I could have just offended you, or perhaps you were up here trying to be alone and I'm spoiling it."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
for @tobesomeone
Date: 2022-06-16 08:03 pm (UTC)Balthier's preoccupied, besides. He and Fran have just returned from a trip to Ivalice -- probably another reason he just wants to be near to Reyes -- and both Ashe and Larsa have renewed their offers to make a position for him, some sort of interplanetary affairs piece. He doesn't want it. He doesn't want anything that ties him down or locks him in or forces him to play some part he hasn't agreed to.
But, Scions, they need it. He's about the only person with any experience on this side of the galaxy, who has any sense what the peoples out here want and expect, or what of Ivalice's could be valuable. He's trying. He could get the right people in touch, keep any eye; he doesn't mind being an informant. And he doesn't want Ivalice getting taken advantage of or left behind, or worse, being attacked for its resources. So he's started to massage his networks, drop information here and there, see what starts to come out of the woodwork and intelligence networks alike.
Of course, the pay of a real position would be nice. But being an official would require residency. Formal ceremonies. Dressing like his damn father.
Being away more.
He sighs. He's had this back in forth in his head about seventy times now. Fran will laugh at him later, and tell him to toss it to the skies and let the winds steer them. She's better at that than he is. ]
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Date: 2022-06-19 03:35 pm (UTC)Maybe the 'soon' wasn't as soon as he'd have liked, the meet up with some contacts went slightly sideways, until it didn't and that was aggravating enough, but then Keema wanted to see him. So there was that as well. Talking through some more delicate things, policies and the like. Running a trade port was a lot of work, especially behind the shadows, but he had a lot of good people to help. Still, he's apologetic when he messages Balthier to let him know he'll be done soon.]
I hope you've not died of boredom, kitten.
[Not that he has any doubts Balthier could easily keep himself entertained. Kadara Port had more than enough ways to get into trouble, that and a good drink. Or both.
He'll sweep into his home not long after the messages, eager to pull off his gloves and get out of his suit into something more comfortable and enjoy the sky pirate's company.]
How goes Ivalice?
[Off come his boots and he'll smile over at Balthier, shrugging partially out of that damnable suit.]
It'd be nice to join you again soon, it's hard to forget how beautiful it was.
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Date: 2022-06-20 04:33 pm (UTC)He's busy enough with his own things he needs to follow up on, and collecting his thoughts besides. He's learned to use technology, but he still keeps and honest-to-god notebook in his looping handwriting. Can't hack a notebook, and he's careful to keep it secure. At home it would have been magicked to only open for him, but, well, no Mist.
In all honesty, he's starting to wonder if he should go home and try Reyes again another day, maybe with some warning, when the text comes, and he's grinning like a teenager hanging around for their first love. ]
Deceased. I now haunt your apartment.
[ The text gives him enough time to put his things away, transition his own head back to the present, and put in a food delivery order. He suspects Reyes hasn't eaten today, and he'd very much like to stay in curled up together. When Reyes gets in, he'll have a drink ready for each of them, smiling as Reyes goes to free himself from his suit. He quite likes that he's one of the only people to see Reyes in regular clothes on the regular, and he also likes how a few of his shirts have made it into the rotation.
He'll sip at his drink, perching against the arm of a couch as Reyes moves about the apartment. ]
Chaotic. Busy. Clamoring for my attention. You'd think a territory couldn't survive without its favorite hero.
[ Which was its own headache. He still isn't used to being so recognized. Freedom of movement is more limited because of it. Anything he does is likely to be reported ten times over, make it back to Ashe and Larsa, who were lovely to see but painfully limited and distant because of the constraints of office. Nothing's the same these days. Some of that certainly makes it into his face and the pitch of his voice. ]
It was also sorely lacking a certain beautiful smuggler. Say the word and I'll whisk you away again, preferably with less near-death dramatics. I haven't even begun to show you the beauty.
[ Not entirely true; they had that stunning view, and Rabanstre is lovely. But they'd both been so tired that they'd spent a good deal of the trip in the Strahl or just wandering the city's markets. Hardly a taste of the vast region. ]
Also, come here. [ He beckons as Reyes looks more settled, crossing to catch him by the waist and kiss him properly. Hello. I missed you. ]
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Date: 2022-06-21 04:55 am (UTC)Stop being so good at playing hero and maybe they'll forget you.
[He highly doubts it, how could anyone forget someone like Balthier? Someone like him was meant to be remembered. There's more to Balthier's words though, but perhaps that was something to question after they'd settled in. There's a drink waiting for him and he'll happily pluck that up, enjoying some as Balthier speaks of whisking him away to Ivalice again. Honestly that would be lovely and he'd not argue against it sometime in the near future, Rabanastre had been delightful with the sky pirate as his guide, he couldn't remember being so full after all of the street food they'd tried.
The nap that followed back on the Strahl had been just as pleasant.]
I'm lucky that I get a piece of Ivalice all to myself.
[Beckoned over he'll smile warmly, hand up to hold his drink out of the way as he's pulled into a kiss. Reyes sighs into it, tired, but delighted that now they can relax together. Everything is worth it to have these moments.]
It's very sexy of you when you order me around...
[Murmured into another kiss.]
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From:long tag filled with all the love
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From:for @helpdesk_hero
Date: 2022-06-24 05:43 pm (UTC)Today, David sits out on the balcony reading, the fall air playful and lovely. Balthier has a perch in a chair, tilted out so he can see David. In his lap is a small notebook he often keeps with him but has never actually let David see; by now it's filled with small sketches of the man he loves, stolen when the other is busy.
Maybe it's how long they've been together now, maybe it's the disarming pleasantry of good light and weather from a bright spot in his youth, maybe it's the way steeling away to an apartment like this makes it easy to feel like everything else can be put aside for awhile -- whatever the reason, Balthier is more relaxed, and so when he stands to go pour himself fresh tea and pull an offering of snacks for David, he leaves the notebook open on the table beside him.
Re: for @helpdesk_hero
Date: 2022-06-24 06:07 pm (UTC)Balthier's arrival on the balcony is almost expected, and both the man and the light repast are met with a soft smile. And the notebook with curiosity.
"Am I being afforded another measure of trust today?"
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Date: 2022-06-24 06:23 pm (UTC)When he was a boy, he dreamed of having this -- someone he loved, quiet leisure time spent together, a life full of adventure. He'd tucked that dream away, slowly, until he'd forgotten it. Looking back at David, he'll give a soft smile of his own. Peace and freedom indeed.
The notebook is sweet, intimate. There are dozens of drawings, the earlier ones a little rougher, not quite always getting his likeness, but get more consistent with time, preoccupied with the way he tilts his head or the way he curls up in a chair, some trying to capture those beautiful looks he gives Balthier without him realizing he's being drawn. It's abundantly apparent Balthier has spent a lot of time looking.
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Date: 2022-06-24 06:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:Feel free to time skip telling; I’ll skip him through the drawing at some point
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From:for @deadlighter
Date: 2022-07-20 04:30 pm (UTC)They're more common on my world, I think.
They had possessed my father for quite some time.
My team and I took them down in battle -- had bound demi-gods that fought with us.
It helped that this god had been disowned by his counsel.
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Date: 2022-07-21 06:30 pm (UTC)（ she never really learned to hide her expressions, them being mostly entombed behind a mask, so her face is twisted into quizzical empathy. for all that text is distance, it's hard not to react. ）
safe now?
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Date: 2022-07-21 08:11 pm (UTC)Yes on both accounts.
And you? Are you safe?
[ He's learned over the years that the worries and assumptions people express often betray what's closest to their own hearts</small. ]
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Date: 2022-07-21 10:51 pm (UTC)she chews on her bottom lip. ）
for today.
（ it's really all she's got. the leviathans aren't her enemy anymore, that's all she knows. but if they aren't, others will be. ）
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From:for @grindset
Date: 2022-07-20 04:35 pm (UTC)[ as a sky pirate, he'd been to "towns" that ranged from outposts of three people and barely tamed fiends to the imperial capital, which was, arguably, a fancy cage hiding the worst monsters of all ]
tongue and firearm tend to be my blades of choice
magick isn't out of the question, though. nor is a good crossbow.
Right tool for the task; right tool for the man.
https://i.pinimg.com/564x/58/46/24/5846240d8a8760b778ae4a72f8ad58f1.jpg
Date: 2022-07-20 09:57 pm (UTC)hello~
Date: 2022-07-22 02:28 am (UTC)having stabbed anyone with a drawing utensil yet, though
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Date: 2022-07-22 03:33 pm (UTC)more people could use purely creative pastimes
and it would not hurt to be less secretive about them
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From:for @royaldifficulties
Date: 2022-08-05 12:23 am (UTC)Which is why they're tucked away in the corner of the restaurant, near enough the open floor to ceiling windows that the night air wafts in, blocked from much of the dining room's view by tall screens and large potted plants. He had chosen the place in part for strategic exit and the ease of getting a secluded table; they are, after all, two wanted men who are supposed to be dead. But there's also something undoubtedly pleasant to the tile floors and rich textiles on the walls and babble of a fountain nearby, the way conversation and dinner and life just happens around them but doesn't demand anything of them. It's almost surreal, having the chance to do this amid everything else going on.
Really, he doesn't like to lose, but this was the better outcome, even if it's taking a good deal of self-restraint not to sigh at Basch's very out of place outfit. Were it not part of the bet, he'd have leaned heavily on the need to blend in, but alas. He is a man of his word. ]
Are you letting me order for you as well? Or did my services end at selecting the venue?
[ Basch has agreed to more than Balthier expected just in coming out; he's not going to push his luck. But he absolutely has asked around as to what the best house dishes are, and he'll be damned if he doesn't order more than enough food and insist the other eat his fill. The former captain looks healthier these days, the sallowness leaving his skin and his weight slowly improving. Recovery is slow, though. Physical and mental. ]
for churby
Date: 2023-05-05 11:03 pm (UTC)2. Captain means you follow my orders or you're off this shift.
3. You told me you were into literature. Loveless is not literature.
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Date: 2023-05-05 11:09 pm (UTC)Re: 1
Date: 2023-05-05 11:13 pm (UTC)no subject
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From:for Basch
Date: 2023-11-01 04:18 pm (UTC)He'd be lying if he said his thoughts had not turned, regularly and with curiosity, toward their new knight companion. He speaks little, lends a hand to defend without being asked, and there's a hollowness to his eyes and worrying thinness to his frame. Neither are a surprise, not with two years in that hell of a prison. What is surprising is his immediate commitment to the princess, and his very clear tolerance for the pirates.
He does cut his hair, he does pull on the discarded uniform of some man of iller fate. But Balthier suspects -- with a kindness he would never admit to possessing -- the others' spirit is in need of some mending.
So, at breakfast at their inn in Rabanstre on their second day, he claps Basch cheerily on the shoulder. ]
Eaten? Good. You're coming with me. I need a bodyguard for the baths.
[ He does not, but it's the best string to pull. ]
And I've already paid for it so do not waste dear Princess's coin.
[ Also not her coin, but she isn't there to sell him out. ]
for Ameila
Date: 2023-11-09 12:36 am (UTC)It just never quite settles properly. He's restless, prone to looking over his shoulder -- metaphorically; he'd never give up his identity like that -- and feels like an imposter in a way he hasn't in a long time. Maybe because, had he never run away, this life would have been his.
He does manage to slip through some no entry and sound confident enough to make it up to a private service area of the top deck, above the lights and sounds. The fresh air and bright stars make him feel like his lungs finally inflate.
There's someone else there, and he doesn't really mind if they're worker or noble or something more nefarious. He leans on the rail, trailing his fingers across the wind currents.
"All that beauty, and the sky still wins. Humans are gluttons for punishment, hmm?"
no subject
Date: 2023-11-09 04:22 am (UTC)She's done her time on the lower decks, woven her way among the various peoples of varying levels of wealth. She's heard their secrets, perhaps taken trinkets they don't need, and still finds herself on edge at the end of the night. Not because she's worried of being robbed or found out, but because she never truly sleeps well surrounded by so many people she doesn't know. It doesn't help that her quarters aren't private this trip and that her roommate has a tendency to paw about with her hands rather than using a light when needing to move about in the dark. People really need to keep their hands to themselves if they want to keep them.
Her head and shoulders rise from where she's leaned over the rail when the sound of footsteps reach her ears. She turns to him, following his approach with hazel eyes. Her head tilts slightly to one side when he speaks, her hairpin tinkling lightly from high in her braided and pinned up hair. Tonight she's dressed simply, dark green linens with a complementary brown leather underbust corset and matching boots over them, all of her covered from neck to toes.
"Maybe they're reaching for the beauty of the stars with what they create," she returns curiously. Her body settles against the rail again, still turned slightly in his direction. "Or perhaps some of us simply prefer the sky to the gaudy on the decks below. Electric lights can't capture anything as magnificent as this." She lifts a hand and gestures out to the sky above them.
"Unless there's some other reason for your asking, stranger." A prompt for more information without being too obvious. She wonders how he'll take it.
no subject
Date: 2023-11-20 01:58 am (UTC)"But I tend to agree that nothing comes close to the actual views. Though I appreciate a little spectacle now and then."
He comes to lean on the rail nearby, not close enough to reach -- or spook -- her, but close enough that they're having an actual conversation.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Just bored and testing the currents for this conversation. I could have just offended you, or perhaps you were up here trying to be alone and I'm spoiling it."
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