Percy watches with an admiring eye as Vex makes her way through the room, following a pace or two behind. He does have some sense of self-preservation, even loosened up by drink and sex. While some of the group has dispersed to parts unknown, Vex's brother is still in the room, frowning at a hand of cards with a look that's still fairly sharp despite the amount of liquor he's undoubtedly drunk by now. He's an unknown that Percy's in no mood to trifle with; while his sister's old enough to make her own decisions, the knowledge could cause the sort of strife that ends with thank you for your time, Mister de Rolo, but we'd better part ways now.
He can't afford to strike off on his own just now, and he's not in the mood to try. Whatever preserves his fragile entry into this new life is his preference.
"That sounds great," he says, his smile easy, then amends, "both those things. I'll get the drinks?"
She'll see to her brother, he'll put the ale on their tab, and when he comes to join her, she'll have found an appropriate place for them to sit. It's the neatest solution, as he sees it.
Vex does check on her brother. Even drunk and pleasantly distracted, Vax will notice if she's gone too long. Best to make sure he's not brooding or worried (and to see how much money he's stolen), and then finish out her night peacefully.
Anything else will be a problem for tomorrow.
While Percy procures their drinks, Vex slips in next to her bother. Confirming he's doing well and hasn't worried, she leaves him with a kiss on the cheek for luck. She's gone before anyone can start to wonder if she's whispering anything to her brother that might amount to cheating. Which is ridiculous, of course. Vax hardly needs her help to fleece a group like this.
She's in good, if more subdued, spirits when she joins Percival at a table.
He tries not to watch as Vex attends to her brother; it's something private, really, a kind of affection no doubt reserved for her twin. But his attention is on her all the same, looking out from the corner of his eye as he waits for a pair of tankards, and then as he finds a place to sit. (Away from the others, but not noticeably away - if he weren't distracted, he'd probably be agonizing over it.)
There's just something about family, others' families, that simultaneously reassures him and makes him feel bitterly alone. No, not something - he knows precisely what it is that puts that twinge in his heart - but a truth he can't allow himself to dwell on right now. More to the point, there's a swell of affection and jealousy in his chest, and he can't replace it with idle daydreaming.
So it's a lie, technically, when he answers, "Oh, no, I'm not quite so pathetic as that," and nudges a cup toward her, but it's one of an endless litany of necessary lies. "Er - how is your brother?"
"Half way to cleaning out the table. I don't even know that he's cheating to do it. They really are that bad." She says it lightly, mostly joking. She casts a last look over her shoulder even as she reaches for her beer. "Or, not cheating much."
Barely cheating.
She turns back, reassured that the game has Vax absorbed a while longer.
"And I wouldn't call being lonely pathetic. Just... a problem easily solved."
"Well - that's very kind of you," Percy says, because even he can sense that oh, no, I'm actually quite pathetic won't win him any points. At that point, however, he's run out of things to say, and he retreats to the safety of his tankard, gulping down a mouthful of ale.
(It is good that her brother's making some money, but saying so seems...inappropriately interested in the matter of the collective purse. Which would be acceptable, if tasteless, when he's better established. Right now, he's sure it'll sound too much like casing a place before stealing from it and disappearing into the night.)
The alcohol's a fine distraction anyhow, pleasantly bitter in his mouth. Pity it's also loosening his tongue - a moment's boldness takes him, and he adds, "Fortunately, it's not a problem I plan to have tonight, pathetic or not."
Vex hums as she reaches for her fresh beer, raising it to her mouth but pausing before taking a sip. There's a wicked flash in her eye and a curl in her lip. "I should imagine you won't be up too late tonight—what, tired, and it must be a relief. After your time in a cell, I mean."
Before, he might have been caught off-guard, but he's quite a bit more relaxed now - he doesn't so much as startle. His answer's painfully earnest, accompanied by a small smile. "It's been...eventful. But I'm ending the day in a far better place than I started. I wouldn't mind staying up, given the company."
Inside Vex, there are two wolves. One who'd like to stay up and flirt, bask in the thrill of new company, and especially a handsome young man who's clearly (and flatteringly) taken with her. The other is well aware that they're back with the team, that her brother isn't that distracted. That she risks giving Percy the wrong impression.
Oh, she's lovely. It's hard to escape just how fond he's grown tonight, and harder still to hide it. He doesn't try, instead allowing himself the little luxury of leaning in slightly towards her. There's a sort of happy shyness to the way he answers, the knowledge that this is not, as a rule, how he talks to people. "You'd be surprised. When I'm interested in something, hours go by in moments."
All right, hours is likely pushing it. But the idea of remaining in her company makes him inclined towards hyperbole.
"Hours, darling?" Vex says, her brows going up in good natured skepticism. It's not that she believes him or that she doesn't. It's that it's more interesting to tease, to see how he reacts.
To keep the conversation going.
To issue, however unseriously, a little bit of a challenge for him to prove it.
"Well, you do seem like the driven sort. I wonder if we ought to be getting you another bowl of stew to keep your strength up."
"Given, erm, sufficient motivation." It's a bluff at the moment - he does think he could manage another round, but not more. But even if it comes to nothing, just being in the company of someone else is rather satisfying.
"I could probably down another meal, too," he admits, "but it's not a dire emergency. I received my fair share of bread and water before you found me."
Not much more, but supper tonight made a dent in that ever-gnawing hunger that comes of being young, tall, and penniless. And he's still conscious of the fact that any money spent on him isn't really earned, at this point.
"Hardly enough to keep a young man's stamina up," Vex observes. There's still a flirtatious note in her tone, but also some genuine concern. As flinty eyed as she can be about money, certainly as she likes to seem, she can't pretend the idea doesn't reach her. Prison rations aren't going to keep someone fit for...
Well.
Any kind of physical exertion.
"We'll see you get breakfast before we leave tomorrow." One brow lifts to lighten the tone again. "Or something to eat, at least."
He's done more on less, when he's had to - but given the opportunity, he'd rather not have to. And it seems his luck is finally turning around on that point...and on a few others as well. There's a reason his cheeks heat up, after all, at the suggestion of alternatives to breakfast.
(How wonderful to receive tacit encouragement for another round of cunnilingus. Ever a sucker for evidence of a job well done, he's torn between embarrassment and preening.)
"I'd like that." As banter goes, it's far too earnest, but thus far, clear admissions of desire have served him well. "A slightly later start - or perhaps an earlier one. I could ask them to have some food sent up to us around sunrise."
"Wildly optimistic of you to think we'd be able to having something sent up without waking up our teammates," Vex comments, her smile serene, brows twitching with something like genuine warmth, while at the same time she pushes back gently.
She doesn't see them having the morning alone upstairs.
And, implicitly, she doesn't see them getting a room alone tonight.
But...
"However, we may be able to sneak down while the others are sleeping off their hangovers. Keyleth aside, there are not many morning people in our little group."
He's still daydreaming of space and privacy, the possibility of spending the night crammed up next to someone more appealing than a drunken half-giant. Until he's entirely rebuffed, he'll hold out a little hope.
"Under most circumstances, I'm not much of a morning person." Ideally, if he's to be awake at daybreak, it's because he lost track of time in the course of a long night - though his time on the fishing boat certainly taught him to fake his way through early rises. "But if I'm going to get to sneak around with you, that sweetens the deal."
It's the most overt flirting he's committed himself to in years, possibly ever.
Considering his obvious lack of recent opportunity, it's not bad flirting. Of course, Vex might feel that way because she picked him—she'd been interested. His honesty and the ragged way he'd clutched his dignity despite being locked in a prison cell...
Percival is an interesting man.
"I suppose I'll simply have to think of a way to energize you."
"I've a few ideas." It's hard not to, with her looking at him that way. She has the keen eye of a hunter with prey in her suggest, and he can't even profess to mind; this capture would be far nicer than the last one he experienced. "You're an inspiring woman, Vex'ahlia."
In fact - he can't resist pushing his luck, reasoning that she'd made similar overtures earlier, before they'd thoroughly debauched themselves. "Enough so that waiting for the morning might be torture."
...All right, as overtures go, it's still rather subtle. He'd rather not come right out and say it, I'm willing to give it another go if you are.
"Torture, is it?" Vex repeats the word, wondering if that's meant to be flattering, if she should take it as such. Of course, whether or not she should doesn't determine whether or not she does.
And the idea that waiting for her is torture is flattering when he's more or less just come from having her is quite flattering.
"And is there anything that might ease your hardship?"
It is not, as a point of fact, torture, and he well knows the difference - but making light of the subject might keep her from the truth of his scars. He'd had no trouble with them among prior groups, if only because no one actually wanted to share the details of their pasts...but Vex'ahlia is chatty. Inquiring. And she's seen more of him than he hopes most of her comrades will.
It's a dangerous game to play, deception, but he's gotten better at it over the last few years.
Also dangerous: overtures. He's can tell he's trifling with fire here, and yet he can't resist the opportunity to burn his hands. "The, ah, pleasure of your company?"
"Is that so? It seems to me you're enjoying the pleasure of my company as we speak." Her brow arches a little, teasing but lightly. There's no effort to discourage him. More playful swiping.
"I am," he agrees, granting himself a moment to drain the last of his ale. It's precisely the sort of courage he needs to set the tankard down and slide an arm around her. "And I'd like to continue to enjoy it, if I may."
This entire night has taken a wonderful, surprising turn, and things feel like they're continuing to move in his favor. And why not pursue that? Her interest feels limitless at the moment, even with the way her gaze shifts toward her brother occasionally. He's still occupied with his cards, so far as Percy knows - and his opinion hardly matters anyway, under the circumstances.
The limitlessness of Vex's interest might prove treacherous; the sky can seem limitless too, when you're standing at the edge of a cliff.
The evening has been fun. More than fun, if Vex takes the time to examine it. (Which she'd rather not.) Percy's company fills a space in their little party that Vex hadn't realized was sorely missing: someone smart, sharp, someone she could see herself holding a real conversation with, who could keep her interest. His inexperience and occasional awkwardness lend an air of authenticity to him, and soften the edges that could be called pompous or abrasive.
The fact he's so willing to be fascinated by her doesn't hurt—him, so obviously coming from money and respectability, fascinated by her. It might say something unflattering about her just how much she is flattered by it.
But that arm is a step forward, and it might leave both of them in empty air.
"You know, I think I could use another round myself," she says, slipping away before the limb in question has time to settle, to become a restraint.
"I -" he begins, caught off guard by the question. But this is a barroom, they're here to drink, and their little trip to the baths have them time to sober. "Yes. Thank you."
It's reasonable for her to get up and kind of her to fetch the next round. Nothing about this should be a concern to him. The slightly unsettled sensation in his chest isn't an instinct worth listening to - but it is there.
And so he lets her go without hesitation and only looks a little nonplussed, and when shes away, he only gives his shirt collar a single, surreptitious sniff. (Awful, as he'd expected. Perhaps that's the problem.) By the time she returns, he's pulled out a scrap of parchment and the stub of a charcoal pencil from among his things. The beginnings of a sketch - likely abstract to anyone not intimately familiar with the inner workings of a pepperbox - are taking shape, if more shaggily than usual.
Vex moves lightly, her expression faltering only slightly as she heads to the bar. Her smile is back in place, good mood thoroughly restored and back in place by the time she returns. There's a full tankard in each hand when she swans back to him. She sets one in front of Percy (careful not to disturb his sketch), and then resumes her seat.
Just slightly farther away than before. Enough that it's inconvenient to put his arm around her again.
At the same time, she leans toward him, her head tipped forward conspiratorially.
"There we are. You're very welcome, darling. Best enjoy it while we can."
See, he tells himself, it's fine. Vex is certainly in a fine mood, still of a mind to tease him as she sits back down. If there's slightly more space between them, Percy has yet to notice.
And so that moment of concern is forgotten as quickly as it started. Shoving the parchment and pencil back into a pocket, he gives her an easy smile. "Why is that? Are we traveling to a city without beer tomorrow?"
The swig he takes is a judicious one despite the joke; if savoring is what she advises, he's willing to listen.
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pathography) wrote2004-12-29 06:14 pm
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He can't afford to strike off on his own just now, and he's not in the mood to try. Whatever preserves his fragile entry into this new life is his preference.
"That sounds great," he says, his smile easy, then amends, "both those things. I'll get the drinks?"
She'll see to her brother, he'll put the ale on their tab, and when he comes to join her, she'll have found an appropriate place for them to sit. It's the neatest solution, as he sees it.
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Anything else will be a problem for tomorrow.
While Percy procures their drinks, Vex slips in next to her bother. Confirming he's doing well and hasn't worried, she leaves him with a kiss on the cheek for luck. She's gone before anyone can start to wonder if she's whispering anything to her brother that might amount to cheating. Which is ridiculous, of course. Vax hardly needs her help to fleece a group like this.
She's in good, if more subdued, spirits when she joins Percival at a table.
"You didn't get lonely without me, I hope."
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There's just something about family, others' families, that simultaneously reassures him and makes him feel bitterly alone. No, not something - he knows precisely what it is that puts that twinge in his heart - but a truth he can't allow himself to dwell on right now. More to the point, there's a swell of affection and jealousy in his chest, and he can't replace it with idle daydreaming.
So it's a lie, technically, when he answers, "Oh, no, I'm not quite so pathetic as that," and nudges a cup toward her, but it's one of an endless litany of necessary lies. "Er - how is your brother?"
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Barely cheating.
She turns back, reassured that the game has Vax absorbed a while longer.
"And I wouldn't call being lonely pathetic. Just... a problem easily solved."
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(It is good that her brother's making some money, but saying so seems...inappropriately interested in the matter of the collective purse. Which would be acceptable, if tasteless, when he's better established. Right now, he's sure it'll sound too much like casing a place before stealing from it and disappearing into the night.)
The alcohol's a fine distraction anyhow, pleasantly bitter in his mouth. Pity it's also loosening his tongue - a moment's boldness takes him, and he adds, "Fortunately, it's not a problem I plan to have tonight, pathetic or not."
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But surely a little banter doesn't hurt.
She leans closer, propped on one elbow.
"And just how long do you think you can keep up?"
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All right, hours is likely pushing it. But the idea of remaining in her company makes him inclined towards hyperbole.
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To keep the conversation going.
To issue, however unseriously, a little bit of a challenge for him to prove it.
"Well, you do seem like the driven sort. I wonder if we ought to be getting you another bowl of stew to keep your strength up."
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"I could probably down another meal, too," he admits, "but it's not a dire emergency. I received my fair share of bread and water before you found me."
Not much more, but supper tonight made a dent in that ever-gnawing hunger that comes of being young, tall, and penniless. And he's still conscious of the fact that any money spent on him isn't really earned, at this point.
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Well.
Any kind of physical exertion.
"We'll see you get breakfast before we leave tomorrow." One brow lifts to lighten the tone again. "Or something to eat, at least."
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(How wonderful to receive tacit encouragement for another round of cunnilingus. Ever a sucker for evidence of a job well done, he's torn between embarrassment and preening.)
"I'd like that." As banter goes, it's far too earnest, but thus far, clear admissions of desire have served him well. "A slightly later start - or perhaps an earlier one. I could ask them to have some food sent up to us around sunrise."
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She doesn't see them having the morning alone upstairs.
And, implicitly, she doesn't see them getting a room alone tonight.
But...
"However, we may be able to sneak down while the others are sleeping off their hangovers. Keyleth aside, there are not many morning people in our little group."
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"Under most circumstances, I'm not much of a morning person." Ideally, if he's to be awake at daybreak, it's because he lost track of time in the course of a long night - though his time on the fishing boat certainly taught him to fake his way through early rises. "But if I'm going to get to sneak around with you, that sweetens the deal."
It's the most overt flirting he's committed himself to in years, possibly ever.
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Percival is an interesting man.
"I suppose I'll simply have to think of a way to energize you."
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In fact - he can't resist pushing his luck, reasoning that she'd made similar overtures earlier, before they'd thoroughly debauched themselves. "Enough so that waiting for the morning might be torture."
...All right, as overtures go, it's still rather subtle. He'd rather not come right out and say it, I'm willing to give it another go if you are.
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And the idea that waiting for her is torture is flattering when he's more or less just come from having her is quite flattering.
"And is there anything that might ease your hardship?"
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It's a dangerous game to play, deception, but he's gotten better at it over the last few years.
Also dangerous: overtures. He's can tell he's trifling with fire here, and yet he can't resist the opportunity to burn his hands. "The, ah, pleasure of your company?"
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This entire night has taken a wonderful, surprising turn, and things feel like they're continuing to move in his favor. And why not pursue that? Her interest feels limitless at the moment, even with the way her gaze shifts toward her brother occasionally. He's still occupied with his cards, so far as Percy knows - and his opinion hardly matters anyway, under the circumstances.
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The evening has been fun. More than fun, if Vex takes the time to examine it. (Which she'd rather not.) Percy's company fills a space in their little party that Vex hadn't realized was sorely missing: someone smart, sharp, someone she could see herself holding a real conversation with, who could keep her interest. His inexperience and occasional awkwardness lend an air of authenticity to him, and soften the edges that could be called pompous or abrasive.
The fact he's so willing to be fascinated by her doesn't hurt—him, so obviously coming from money and respectability, fascinated by her. It might say something unflattering about her just how much she is flattered by it.
But that arm is a step forward, and it might leave both of them in empty air.
"You know, I think I could use another round myself," she says, slipping away before the limb in question has time to settle, to become a restraint.
To be seen.
"Do you want another while I'm up?"
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It's reasonable for her to get up and kind of her to fetch the next round. Nothing about this should be a concern to him. The slightly unsettled sensation in his chest isn't an instinct worth listening to - but it is there.
And so he lets her go without hesitation and only looks a little nonplussed, and when shes away, he only gives his shirt collar a single, surreptitious sniff. (Awful, as he'd expected. Perhaps that's the problem.) By the time she returns, he's pulled out a scrap of parchment and the stub of a charcoal pencil from among his things. The beginnings of a sketch - likely abstract to anyone not intimately familiar with the inner workings of a pepperbox - are taking shape, if more shaggily than usual.
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Just slightly farther away than before. Enough that it's inconvenient to put his arm around her again.
At the same time, she leans toward him, her head tipped forward conspiratorially.
"There we are. You're very welcome, darling. Best enjoy it while we can."
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And so that moment of concern is forgotten as quickly as it started. Shoving the parchment and pencil back into a pocket, he gives her an easy smile. "Why is that? Are we traveling to a city without beer tomorrow?"
The swig he takes is a judicious one despite the joke; if savoring is what she advises, he's willing to listen.
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