Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-03-19 21:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !group thread, !log, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul, drake liu |
We have fallen down again tonight, In this world it's hard to get it right....
Who: Aspel, Drake & Ari.
What: A surprise! (And not the one anyone was expecting)
Where: Ari’s flat.
When: Today!
Rating: PG! (it's mostly just.... Awkward really.)
Status: Complete!
The owner of Ari’s flat was a rather nice lady. Admittedly, Aspel had been hesitant at first, the idea was rather random, and had seemed as if it could be quite fun, but… That was assuming access to Ari’s flat could be gained at all, and honestly, Aspel wasn’t about to go breaking off the lock for a second time in her life. The one instance with Kiernan certainly had been enough for a lifetime of embarrassment by now. Thankfully, the word had never gotten back around to her if Ari had heard of it or not but… It seemed fairly likely that the other woman probably had… Even if Aspel liked to pretend that the bard had not. It made life a little easier - and a lot less embarrassing - to deal with. Yet, tonight’s tactic was simple, gather up all the things needed for a nice dinner in a basket, obtain a particularly fine set of Ordalian coffee beans, speak with the owner - who seemed to have her own mischievous and knowing smile throughout the entire explanation - and then up to the bard’s living quarters Aspel went. The space wasn’t precisely ideal for a romantic dinner of sorts, and the smith quickly found she’d forgotten a random thing here or there, but… Certainly, that would not ruin the evening - or mood - for Ari if she had a guess. After a long day at work, coming home to a full meal, and - what Aspel hoped to be classified as - pleasant company ought to more than make up for the intrusion. Besides, if there were any complaints, surely the smith could apologize profusely, and offer… Well, alternative compensation to Ari’s liking in order to justify the wrong she’d made. With the various possibilities sorted out in her head - and her own reactions thought out thoroughly - Aspel had finally seemed quite pleased with herself. Now, sitting down, a glass of mead was poured absently, and a smile crossed the smith’s face. It was merely a matter of sitting back to wait for Ari to arrive. Drake, on the other hand, had mostly just wanted to make sure Ari had something to eat when she got home. He’d been leaving random things on her doorstep - or just falling asleep there until she got home - for the last week, and so tonight was not going to be any different. Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be. He’d stopped at an Ordalian bakery that specialized in bread and cheese, added on some cold cuts, and grabbed a bottle of sparkling apple cider (non-alcoholic) to go with the simple but filling (and healthy) meal. The bakery was practically down the street from Ari’s, and he walked the last bit of the way, enjoying the pleasant weather. He was only mildly surprised to find that the lights in her apartment were on, but it wasn’t cause for alarm. The director had let them out early a few times, so he climbed the stairs, straightened his shirt, and knocked. Pleasant weather or not, he was glad to not have to wait around this time. Aspel had managed to make it halfway through her glass of mead when a knock came at the door causing her brows to furrow. What in the name of… Would Ari knock upon her own door? Well, would Aspel knock at her own door if she hadn’t been expecting visitors? Possibly, though…. Could the landlady have forgotten something? Or… Well, who else could possibly be knocking at the bard’s door? How awkward would it be for Aspel to answer the door to someone else? The thoughts were mulled over with as much quickness as her brain could muster from the smith’s own day at work in conjunction with the mead she’d drank - at moderate pace with no food in her stomach as of yet - at this point. Well, Ari had answered the door for Aspel’s apartment several times before, certainly, it could not hurt if Aspel were to answer the door once for Ari, no? With no small amount of hesitence or second guessing, Aspel left her glass of mead at the table, and padded towards the door. Should she try to figure out who it was before answering? Would that make her seem more suspicious? It might. Faram. And that was really all she had in this instance, now wasn’t it? With an uncomfortable feeling have settled firmly in her gut, Aspel stepped up, opening the door. To find Drake on the other side. And of course, her heart had to leap into her throat just then, rendering her speechless for at least a moment she wished she could be not. The door opening had him lifting the bag of food and saying “I brought fo--” He cut off when he saw Aspel standing there, staring at him with a confused expression on her face. “Uh, hi.” He frowned. He was pretty sure he’d gone to Ari’s - he wasn’t in the Armory and he’d just been in the Theatre District. Maybe Aspel had also brought Ari food and they were eating? “I thought I’d drop by and bring Ari something to eat,” he explained awkwardly. Faram, what if he was interrupting some kind of romantic dinner or something? Maybe he should just hand over the food and bolt; that seemed like a better idea the more seconds passed. Before he could do so, however, another set of footfalls could be heard on the stairs; after a few moments, Ari appeared, looking a bit disheveled and rather weary -- for a moment, the expression of weariness faded from her face to be replaced with surprise, then the surprise melted into a smile. “Well,” she said, “here’s a surprise I didn’t expect: two of my favorite people at my door. My open door,” she added, with a curious look at Drake -- had he managed the thorny lock at last? But no, Aspel was inside, it was he who was standing on the landing… “I think my evening just got better,” she announced, squeezing past Drake with a pat on his arm to enter the flat. She thought she smelled food, and indeed, her table was not empty as she’d left it. “Aren’t you going to come in?” she asked, curiously, as she set aside her instrument case and began divesting herself of cloak and boots. Aspel couldn’t help to do much more than offer Drake a slow nod of comprehension of his words, even if her own failed her miserably at first. However, just as she felt as though some may be summoned to her command Ari appeared - seemingly completely unfussed by the entire layout of the situation - and slipped inside without a single moment of bother. (Though her own instant gut reaction wondered how in the name of Faram could the bard just float in without the slightest care in the world…? Maybe Ari was just too tired to care….) Eyes wandered briefly after Ari, before turning back to Drake, and a weak - unsure - smile was offered towards him. “My apologies. I was unaware of your plans this eve. I will be out of the way in but a moment.” At this, it was Ari who turned her head to give Aspel a mildly exasperated look. “No one’s in the way,” she said. “Drake, come in and close the door -- it’s cold.” Drake smiled weakly back at Aspel. “There weren’t any plans,” he assured her, doing as Ari commanded. He toed off his shoes and reached for Aspel’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I usually drop food off for her when she’s in rehearsals or she doesn’t eat.” He briefly recalled having this conversation with Aspel before, but he didn’t really have anything else to say. And Faram, when did being in the same room with both of them become so awkward? Right. After he’d started sleeping with Aspel. On his desk. Earlier this week. “I’ll just drop the food off and head out.” It seemed the moment was upon Ari to interject once again; she turned to face them, hands on hips, aware of the absurdity of the situation as she -- small, tired woman (without shoes, which made her even smaller) -- scolded the two tall and strangely awkward people at her door. “Why are both of you so intent on quitting my company?” she queried. All right, so she probably knew the answer to that (Drake didn’t know how to lie), but she wasn’t about to be awkward about something that had nothing at all to do with her. And selfishly, she enjoyed them both -- why not spend an evening in such good company? “Have I done something to offend, perhaps?” she asked. She could wield guilt as a weapon if she had to (her mother had taught her well). “If not, I will wager that no one in this room has yet had dinner, and since both of you are far more diligent about my well-being than I am -- bless you -- there is more than enough food to feed three people. I will even endeavor to brew a pot of that tea you both like, though no promises about whether it comes out bitter.” “Really-” Aspel began towards Drake though the feeling of her hand in his seemed a minor reassurance. Even a minor reassurance was better than nothing in the end. Yet, the word barely had any power behind it causing it to be low enough that the word seemed missed and the sudden tangent from Ari earned the quirking of Aspel’s brow. The first comment could be overlooked, but something about the second set her internally bristling. “I do believe that in some instances, things may not always be completely about you.” The sentence came out a bit short, and really it wasn’t as Aspel had wanted to approach this at all. Swallowing, she shifted. “And my apologies that apparently my attempt at manners is ill placed this eve.” A bow of her head would be given towards Ari, and then towards Drake. Though… At the same time, Aspel hadn’t the faintest of how to follow up next. Drake glared across the room. He knew what Ari was doing, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. But then she sounded so sad, like maybe she actually believed it, and he caved. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay, but I’m making the tea.” To many cups of bitter tea upset his stomach, and he always felt like he had to drink the entire pot when Ari made it. He stepped further into the room, putting the bag of bread and cheese and meat and cider on a chair. A quick glance at the table told him that, yeah, he did interrupt. Aspel had clearly been planning something. Ari sighed; as Drake wandered into her kitchen, she approached Aspel, attempting to take her hand in turn for a squeeze (she had not missed it when Drake had done the same; they hadn’t fought, anyway, and shouldn’t that be good enough?). “Of course not everything is about me,” she said, then, somewhat sheepishly, “I suppose I could use the occasional reminder. But really -- you thought of me, and came to visit, and I’d rather neither of you left.” The whole thing seemed a terrible mess at this point, and it merely made Aspel want to crawl into a corner and not come out again for some time. Aside from the prickling sensation in the back of her head - feeling as though she’d been wronged, but not being entirely sure how so - things had seemed to calm at least on some minor level. Yet, as Ari approached, Aspel couldn’t help a certain stiffness setting into her stance, but would not pull back when the bard reached to take her hand. Eyes narrowed for a moment, as if trying to suss out any other meanings for the briefest moment before a heavy huff of air was given. “I will arrange plans more appropriately in the future.” Aspel’s tone came off a bit defeated, but not completely, something stern remaining lodged in the back of it somehow regardless of any of them in the room. Finally, with the words out, Aspel’s fingers flexed, actually - finally - giving a hold to the other woman’s hand briefly, a short squeeze, before letting go and turning to get the door. The squeeze was a step in the right direction, Ari thought -- still, she waited for the door to be closed before she spoke again, saying simply, “I wish you wouldn’t.” Would Aspel realize just how unlike her such a statement actually was, she wondered? The implication of come anytime, I’ll never be unhappy to see you was one that… Well. To keep her mind off of the thoughts accompanying the statement, she approached the other woman, rose on her toes for a moment to brush a brief kiss against her lips, then once again attempted to catch her hand so as to pull her towards the kitchen. That Aspel was annoyed was rather obvious, but she was determined -- if they could just get some food into them and allow the conversation to flow as it normally did, it would be fine. (The alternative -- that of an annoyed Aspel taking her leave -- was not one she wished to consider. The thought of it was not pleasant.) Drake had gotten the water boiling and was steeping the tea when the two women made their way over. He offered them a smile before rummaging through Ari’s cupboard to retrieve three mugs. “There’s cider in the bag - non-alcoholic - if you’d rather have that, Ari,” he informed her. He wasn’t sure if Aspel had brought anything - probably, and that just made him uncomfortable again. Resolving to ignore it, he poured the tea into the cups and handed one to Aspel. “I promise it’s not bitter,” he joked. He was pretty sure she’d had Ari’s idea of tea before, and anyone who liked tea would wince at the strength. “Not sweet either.” He didn’t use sugar in his tea, so he wasn’t sure where it would be if Aspel wanted it. “Mm.” Was the brief response to Ari’s rebuttal, which was neither agreement, nor argument against the point. Yet, with the door closed, and locked, Aspel would return the kiss offered - a bit stiffly -, but remove her hand from the bard’s after another brief squeeze. Even in her annoyance, it did not change the fact that there was concern, and care there. When Drake made comment regarding what he’d brought, Aspel simply remained with her mouth clamped shut. There was no point in augmenting any potential issues, or awkwardness that might still be lingering at this point. Perhaps, she’d be better off shuffling everything away even for the night? It would all hold. She’d intentionally gotten things that she knew would so that the bard would have leftovers for a day or two after all. “My thanks.” A brief smile was offered to Drake as she accepted the tea, with a bow of her head. “Ah.” Was the response earned to the lack of sweetener, and Aspel flashed them both the briefest of smile - one that quickly fell away just as fast as it appeared. “Pardon.” With that, Aspel took herself, and the mug of tea in her hands, into the kitchen. Ari sighed even as she went to the bag to hunt down the cider, which she preferred to tea anytime (the situation as it was, she really wanted to pop the cork on a bottle of wine instead, but her self control was better than that, surely -- better than to help herself to the opened bottle of mead on the table, too). “Well,” she murmured softly as Aspel no doubt searched out honey in her kitchen (she’d replaced the last jar the woman had consumed just last week, fortunately), “this is gloomier than I expected.” Of all days for Aspel not to play along with her teasing, honestly! At least she didn’t seem annoyed with Drake for good measure, and Drake seemed utterly oblivious as to why anyone ought to be upset at all. Cider poured, she approached Drake, leaning against his side as she sipped. “Contrary to how it may look, I am glad you both came.” “Maybe I should leave,” he murmured, sipping his tea. Aspel was clearly as uncomfortable as he was, and the last thing he wanted was to cause any sort of problems. “Seems like she had something nice planned for you guys.” It only bothered him a little - it was usually him who fed Ari during hectic rehearsals - and he enjoyed the time he got to spend alone with Ari. But he also knew that he shouldn’t - and couldn’t - monopolize her time. He loved her, but they were also the type that preferred freedom in their relationships. She seemed to be happy with Aspel, and he didn’t want to deny her that. (That Aspel seemed to be content with Ari was also a factor; he wanted them both to be happy, and while he could recognize that he was in love with Ari, he really wasn’t ready to think about how he felt about Aspel.) “Didn’t you?” she asked, as always the simple answer to a situation that probably required something more complex. “Call me greedy, but I want both nice surprises. My avarice may well be my downfall someday, but not tonight, I hope. I’m tired and I’m hungry and I burned myself in rehearsal today. I just want a nice, pleasant evening before I fall unconscious.” Alone? She had to wonder. That was the one sticky bit of this, of course -- she could ask either or both of them to stay (though who knew, Aspel might turn her down, the mood she was in), but she doubted we’re all adults and my bed is more than big enough would be considered good enough reason. So she kissed Drake lightly on the cheek, her tone still low as she said, “I’ve annoyed her, so I’ll try to smooth it over. But don’t leave on my account, all right, darling?” It would take but a few moments to locate the honey, and an appropriate spoon with which to stir it in, but with jaw tightened Aspel had wasted a few more moments staring out the kitchen window into the night. What was she doing? Why was she here? Why was she so terribly upset over something that was probably nothing more than Ari being Ari? A huff of air was let out as the metal of the spoon tinked quietly against the side of the mug while she stirred. Faram. Eyes slipped closed and she sighed heavily, knowing full well that if she took too long, questions would be asked, and that was the last thing she needed tonight, not in front of them both. With that, the spoon would be deposited into the sink, and Aspel made her way back to the table, a soft smile being offered to the two of them before she sat. “I do hope that rehearsal was not too atrocious this eve?” It was better just to try to let it all go. Drake, who had been glaring at Ari, turned to Aspel and said, “Apparently, she burned herself.” He had moved away from Ari as soon as he’d heard Aspel’s footsteps coming in their direction, but hadn’t had time to respond to her declaration of being burned. “How in the world did you even manage that?” Did they use real magic? Could Ari even cast? “What’s an epic story of heroism without a few pyrotechnics?” Ari shot back. “I’m… improving my aim. More or less. Today, less as opposed to more.” She was getting accustomed to the contraption she was wearing, but she wasn’t a mage, and mistakes were bound to happen. She rolled up her sleeve to expose a patch of pink skin on her forearm -- the burn had been healed promptly, of course, but this evidence would remain until likely tomorrow. “Lesson learned: I am far more coordinated even with a sword than I am with a staff. Provided the sword isn’t fully weighted, I’ve never hurt myself with one.” She’d had a sword nearly the size of her entire body for the Warrior Queen and had done well enough with it, but magic, it seemed, would always be a point of frustration. At least talking about her mishap was unlikely to cause further annoyance or discomfort; maybe, she thought with mild exasperation, the two of them could bond over worrying about her. She looked around at the various bags and boxes spread out on the table, grateful for both of them and their thoughtfulness, as the more she thought about it, the more something drowned in gravy (what she would have been all too likely to get from downstairs) really didn’t appeal. “Will either of you be terribly offended if I help myself?” Before she could even help herself, a heavy sigh had escaped her lips and a hand was reaching out to take Ari’s wrist so that a closer look could be given to the burn mark assuming the other woman didn’t pull away. Having had more than her fair share of experience with burns - from practicing fire magicks, and then working with the forge - Aspel could recognize that this one, thankfully, didn’t seem as though it would be particularly troublesome. Pausing - hesitant for her own mood instead of anything else - Aspel then leaned in placing a soft kiss over what remained of the burn as she would guess it didn’t much hurt at this point before reclaiming her hand to take up the mug of tea once more. “Could they not cast barfire on you while you handle such?” The tone was terribly tired, worried even a bit, but not upset. “Surely, they must have an actual mage on hand for these things, no?” Though at Ari’s next question, a hand idly waved the other woman on to munch away to her heart’s desire while the smith blew over the top of her tea. Honestly, Aspel wasn’t entirely sure she had much of an appetite anymore. Drake agreed. “I mean, it’s not like it’s a hard spell. Merri can probably cast it. Or maybe Vivi has--” he stopped himself. He knew that Ari knew that Vivi sold things, but he wasn’t sure about Aspel. He assumed she knew - they were close, from what he could tell - but just in case. No need to wear out his welcome with the Countess; he liked having the ability to purchase useful items. “Maybe Vivi knows someone,” he finished awkwardly. Well, that was smooth, Liu, he thought, mentally kicking himself. Eager to change the subject, he turned to Ari. “Go ahead,” he said; Aspel seemed in agreement. What little appetite he’d had was pretty much gone. If he got hungry later, he could always grab something on the way home. Ari took the statements at face value, filling her plate with a little bit of this and a bit of that. An odd combination of items, she supposed, but all things she favored, so there was no room for complaint. A quick smile was flashed at Aspel after the kiss before she pulled her hand back to continue serving herself. She supposed things couldn’t be so bad. “I think no one realized just how abysmal I could be,” she said, on the subject of magic. No one had thought an actual mage would be required, and Riyeko had certainly done her work to a marvel; Ari was the only one struggling. “At least I can act, so I’m not a complete disaster. Maybe I should look for something, but I’m basically casting the gamut of spells, or at least, that is how it feels. I can’t protect myself against everything at once. I think self-healing will be a necessary evil until the festival is over.” She smiled as she said, “At least Juliana isn’t expected to set her curtains aflame. I never thought I would speak of anything by Gounot as the easy role.” The flood of words halted and she realized only then that she was the only one eating. That phrase -- we’re all adults -- flashed through her mind again, but she rather thought that saying anything about their various mutual relations might only make things worse. Instead, she said, “I hope you will help me consume at least some of this. Please eat, so I don’t feel like the world’s most awkward and incompetent accidental hostess?” “Vivi would.” Aspel chimed in after Drake, not even a moment of hesitation present in the least. Now, if that person was completely legal or not, well… Aspel had to wonder now-a-days after the altercation she’d involved herself in while saving the other woman just weeks before. Though, the smith also didn’t particularly care either as long as no harm had come to people completely innocent of crime which… Well. The number of those who could claim full innocence in life dwindled by the day. “Are you casting everything daily?” If they knew they weren’t running the whole play every day, then it would be easy to prepare against certain spells each day without having to go full out… But that was a rather large assumption in of itself. At the new question, a weak smile flickered to life. “Perhaps in a bit. I would much rather attend to my tea for now.” And even her half drank glass of mead no longer held much appeal. Faram, what was wrong with her? Though… The last time she had drank around Drake… Well. No need for that here. Drake’s tea was starting to cool, which was sad. He preferred his tea to be hot, so he gulped the rest of it down. He could disappear to make another cup, but he was pretty sure if he did that, Ari would be cross with him. That was one of the last things that he’d wanted, so he shrugged and crossed over to where the food was laid out. He tore off a piece of bread, tossed a few cold cuts on it, and sat down. “If you’re casting daily, then they need to do something to keep you safe. Well,” he amended, “to keep everyone else safe. Your aim isn’t the best, darling.” He grinned cheekily at her and took a bite of his food. The bread was still soft, but the cold cuts were slightly warm; not bad, but not great either. He turned back to Aspel. “Sure you don’t want anything, Aspel?” Ari swallowed her mouthful of food and told them both, “I never know what scenes they’ll want to run on any given day, plus the director changes spells out on me periodically if he thinks something looks better with particular lighting or blocking. I think this is a classic case of teaching someone to swim by throwing them into deep water.” She made a face and said, “Come to think of it, that didn’t work with me, either.” She pointed her fork at Drake and told him, “Careful, darling, I’ll learn to aim just to set you on fire in the middle of the performance. Maybe I’ll kiss it better after, but maybe not. Do not mock the woman with sudden and nearly unlimited firepower at her fingertips.” Even if she couldn’t use it properly -- yet. As with all shows, it would come together in the end. A hand rose, gesturing against partaking even if Drake now seemed to be egging her into it too. “I am well.” Was all that was offered in response to his inquiry. Somehow, the sudden anxiety related to eating within groups had risen once more, and it had to be stuffed down. Hadn’t she gotten over that months ago? She’d eaten with Ari and Drake so many times she’d lost count… Why was this suddenly reappearing now? It didn’t make a blasted bit of sense but… Another sip of tea she hoped would assist in washing the sudden panic down. “Mm. That is unfortunate.” Aspel added as it seemed like there really was no good solution other than sticking Ari in a rubber suit and praying to any number of gods that nothing went wrong which was… Less than a thrilling idea. “Do let us know if they do not take proper care of you, no?” The number of potions she had stocked had dwindled, but it didn’t stop her from being capable of casting cure… And some of the creative uses of cure, well… Ari had encountered them with Aspel at least once before. Though, the tease she offered Drake earned a furrow of Aspel’s brow before one quirked. The look was schooled away with another sip of her tea. Well, that was… Certainly queer. “You wouldn’t dare,” he shot back. “You like me too much to cause me bodily harm.” At least, that’s what he was hoping. Aspel’s demurral of food caused him to frown, but he wasn’t going to push it. If it had just been them, he might have - she’d obviously planned on eating before Drake had crashed the party - but he wasn’t quite sure how to act around her right now. Not with Ari in the same room. And Faram, why was all of this so difficult? He grabbed another piece of bread. Maybe if he just kept eating... “Maybe I do,” she said, going for ominous, ending up with amused instead. “Maybe I don’t. Are you willing to stake your very pretty face on it, sir?” Not that she’d really aim for the audience, so they all knew the threat was empty, but at least Drake seemed willing to play along. She didn’t want to push Aspel to eat, either, though she did rather feel as though they had returned to sometime… before. She suddenly recalled their outing at the Festival of Lions -- it seemed so long ago -- with Aspel picking at her food and Ari filling silences at need. She wouldn’t have imagined them in quite this configuration all these months later, but it was hard to ignore the similarities at the same time. And she couldn’t help admitting that over time she had become selfishly grateful for that rumor -- certainly it had done her more good than ill. “Fortunately, I have both of you taking care of me, even if my directors are putting me in harm’s way -- if I can even call my current situation anything aside from my own ineptitude.” She finished off her cider and smiled across the table at them both, adding, “Really, thank you. Aspel, did I imagine it, or did I espy coffee in that basket?” She always had her own, so if Aspel had brought some, it must be something particularly special. “Ari is much kinder than I.” Aspel offered Drake a slight smile with his rebuttal about how Ari wouldn’t sling a spell at him. Admittedly, she would likely only cause him bodily harm if it was somehow needed - if he’d gone mad, or she had to knock him unconscious to keep him from doing some stupid thing or another - but that didn’t need to be said. The words in of themselves were enough to make a point when accompanied by a wicked smirk over her cup of tea. Though, somehow, the commentary made her feel a bit out of place, interjecting into what almost seemed quite personal banter. Yet, hadn’t she done so before? What made this interaction so special? A million questions, and not a one with a single answer she could find. “Mm.” Was the only response given to the thanks with a brief bow of her head, though the question of the coffee earned the quirking a brow, a few seconds passing before she was able to fully process the question at all. “Ah, my apologies, yes. The vendor claimed it a special blend.” Aspel knew a bit of the differing brews from Ari’s addition, and Mag’s preferences, but often she still found herself relying on the recommendations of others when it came to picking out something for which she did not personally, regularly partake. Her own preference towards the strong Kerwonian coffees when she’d spent long nights at the forge seemed likely unwelcome here, not that it was a bother at all. “I can see when I’m unwelcome,” Drake pouted, shaking his head. “Being threatened with bodily harm. I mean, however would I get by if I didn’t have my face?” It was a joke, of course; he had a few other redeeming features, but this was joke a lot of people made with him. He was pretty sure that it was someone in the Guild that had started it, too, but he couldn’t remember who. Ari was asking about coffee, and Drake tuned out. He honestly wasn’t sure how she could drink the stuff. It was vile and had no benefits. Black tea had more than enough caffeine to wake someone up. He was pretty sure that Ari was just addicted to the vile stuff. “You’re always welcome here,” Ari said, her tone light, careless. Whatever their mutual problem was, she was refusing to buy into it. “But you’re both going to have to excuse me for a moment while I brew up some of this special blend, lest I fall asleep with my face in my plate.” She rose from her seat as she added, “It’s happened before. I’m tempted to let it happen again to get a laugh out of you, but my dignity protests.” On her way out to the kitchen, she dropped identical light kisses atop each their heads -- it wasn’t as though she would ever reach otherwise, considering their height -- then snatched up the coffee and made a beeline for the grinder. Now hopefully, she wouldn’t return to find one -- or both -- of them gone. But the coffee called to her with its siren song (she had to admit, Aspel knew her weaknesses well by now), and if she was going to carry on any sort of conversation at all, she probably didn’t need to take a long nap upon her table. The thought about chiming in regarding one’s welcomeness, or unwelcomeness came to mind, but Aspel decided to shelve her commentary. It was likely unwanted, and possibly unneeded in a situation as such. Though, why she suddenly felt as though she must be selective of her words was still a mystery in some manner that she’d yet been able to figure out. Maybe it was better left that way as well. “Well…” Aspel drawled slightly, a faint smirk forming across her lips in response to Drake’s questioning regarding his livelihood and his facial region. With a rolling of her wrist, one hand lazily gestured towards his torso with a slight wave of fingers. “That, for one, may be of some assistance.” It was a rather nice torso, she’d fully admit. The kiss earned a flicker of a smile before it died away, though something rumbled around inside of her, this situation was beginning to seem…. Odd. At best. Waiting for Ari to exit, another sip of her tea was taken as the smith fell pensive, allowing silence to creep in for a few moments at least. “Drake…?” Finally her eyes turned up, something a bit hesitant, yet curious and determined to continue on easily present. He pulled himself from his thoughts as Ari left the room, turning his attention to Aspel. How was it that he kept finding himself in awkward situations with Aspel? That had never used to happen, but it seemed like that was starting to become par for the course. He really hoped that that would disappear over time. Faram, he’d never been this uncomfortable around someone he was sleeping with before. Maybe that was because he wasn’t usually sleeping with someone that Ari was also sleeping with. “Yeah?” he asked, giving her a crooked smile. The least he could do was try to make this as easy as possible. (What he was trying to make easy was beyond him, though.) “I am sorry.” The apology was sincere, and precisely what she was sorry for, well.. Aspel wasn’t a hundred percent certain but… Whatever was nagging at her, causing her to feel moody and out of place, she wanted to assure she did everything within her power to have it gone as quickly as possible. A soft smile was offered to the man across from her, and a hand shifted over the tabletop, offering to hold his for a moment as some vague sort of reassurance, for whatever it was worth. Maybe she was the reason this all was awkward, perhaps if she hadn’t started off feeling odd, or hadn’t snapped back at the bard this whole thing would have been easier but… For now, it was what it was, and she’d do the best she could with what she had. Drake reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Not sure what you’re apologizing for,” he told her. “I should probably apologize, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he added. “I just wanted to make sure Ari had something that wasn’t fried and covered in gravy. Bad gravy.” He made a face, partly because the gravy was awful, partially to try to get Aspel to laugh. A forced smile was given back, something not completely genuine. “I had not announced, there was no way for anyone to know. I simply know better now.” The point of not knowing what her apology was for was left alone in that time. There was no need to attempt to address something she didn’t know how to even begin to talk about, or remotely explain herself. Couldn’t they just…. No. That thought didn’t even make sense. The smile earned from his face held a hint of sorrow to it. “I can not say I have had the pleasure of that experience.” And with that face, she hoped she never would. “The gravy,” Ari said, returning from the kitchen just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation, “isn’t nearly as bad as Drake claims. Maybe it’s an acquired taste?” She took her seat once again, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot, fragrant coffee. She’d started sipping it in the kitchen -- it was, as the merchant had advertised to Aspel, quite delicious -- and took another gulp now, sighing in satisfaction. “You will have to tell me where you bought this,” she told Aspel, before returning to the previous topic as though she had never detoured: “In any case, I’ve been eating it for about seven years now and it hasn’t killed me yet, so I think I might have survived one more portion. Not that I’m not grateful to be spared it tonight, mind you.” And considering the two of them were eating like birds, she’d have enough left over to get her through the rest of the week with ease. She took another sip of coffee and yawned. She amused herself with the thought of the two of them disagreeing over who would carry her to bed when she inevitably fell asleep sitting up. (All right, so it wouldn’t happen, but thinking about it wasn’t a crime, and it was an amusing thought.) “Only because your stomach is made of iron from all the coffee you drink,” he retorted, returning his hand to his lap and giving her cup a pointed look. One of these days he was going to convert her to the joys of good tea - he just had to find one that she could make without ruining. “Admit it, you don’t like it either.” If she did, he was going to have to rethink this whole sleeping together thing. “I don’t hate it,” Ari said, feeling as though she ought to defend her food choices. “It’s convenient.” Shifting back in her seat, her hand removed from the table where it had rested just moments before, and both came to wrap around the still warm mug of tea. Soon it would undoubtedly be cold, and not nearly as appealing but… That was still at least a little ways off. Though, the new argument springing forth regarding food, and beverage choices was something Aspel decided to opt out of, allowing them to bicker on as they pleased. Certainly, there would likely come a point where she would be interested in interjecting again, but this was not it. Not to mention, she’d eaten her share of questionable food while traveling across Kerwon and Ordalia, and drank more coffee than was likely healthy while smithing when particularly large pushes of orders had come through so… In some regards, her points were moot. Not that Drake or Ari would know any of that. And that thought sat uncomfortable in her chest. Maybe she was better off never telling them. Unfortunately for Aspel, Ari seemed determined to pull her into the conversation, if only to speak in her defense. “Would you like to help me, perhaps?” she asked, clearly addressing the other woman. “I know you mustn’t mind the coffee, considering you brought me this wonderful stuff, and I could use some rescuing.” She grinned as she pointed out, “This variant doesn’t even involve injury.” An eyebrow quirked at Ari, half curious at the question for assistance, and half dubious. Then came the rest of it, and one hand raised, palm offered out towards Ari with a soft scoff. “I do believe you have this fight to win yourself.” “See?” Drake crowed, kicking back in the chair, the front two legs lifting off the ground. “She’s totally on my side.” Not true, since Aspel had mostly declared that she was staying out of it, but he could see an opportunity when it was presented. He was about to say something else when he overbalanced. The chair tipped back and crashed to the floor, along with the monk still seated. “Owwwww.” At Drake’s sudden backward momentum, Aspel shot up out of her seat, trying to grab at the man as he started to fall with a speed normally not seen of her. The action - an attempt at help - successfully jostled what remained of her glass of tea causing some of it to splash out onto the table. However, in doing so, she also managed to successfully ram one of her hips into the table causing a sharp hiss to escape between clenched teeth. Fingers balled in on themselves, slamming down into the table with palm and knuckles first as her jaw tensed. “Are you well?” Aspel’s concern overrode her common sense, and the extreme bit of pain that shot through her side and down her leg. Faram, why did her hips have to be so sensitive? Ari’s first reaction -- a spike of concern -- quickly turned to laughter when she heard Drake’s whine. “That will teach you,” she said, getting out of her chair and going to kneel beside Drake to check him over. “I will use my mysterious bardic powers to turn my furniture against you if you defy me.” Because he looked a little dazed, she added, “Did you hit your head? How many fingers?” She held up three. “I’m going to assume your head’s too hard to sustain much damage, but better safe than sorry.” He squinted up and glared. “Three. And I’m fine.” He looked over at Aspel and winced. “Are you okay?” Ari looked up at Aspel then, catching her expression and wincing in sympathy. “I didn’t actually mean for my furniture to attack you,” she said. “All right,” this with determination, “tease Ari time is hereby on hold. Come on.” She offered him her hand, though the idea of her actually pulling him up was laughable. “Both of you, couch, please. Apparently, I’m not quite done singing tonight.” He took the proffered hand and dragged himself up. “I’m fine,” he reiterated. “I think Aspel needs the healing more than I do.” The sound of her hip against table had been solid; she’d hit it hard. He liked her hips, particularly unbruised. “Yes.” Was the only reply given, even if Aspel could feel her body stiffening up slightly from the pain. That was going to throb for a bit. Ari’s command earned a furrowing of her brows for a moment. “Surely, we both will be well in just a moment.” Regardless of her words, the hand furled on the table had yet to fully relax, and the smith’s eyes dipped down to it, sighing when she noticed the spilled tea. “Apologies.” The word was absent, her eyes already beginning to look as if her mind had moved on to somewhere else away from this room. “I believe I saw a towel in the kitchen.” With that, her eyes raised, glancing back towards the other room to see if she could spot it from the place she stood. Ari sighed as she released Drake’s hand and gave a rather unhappy look over the two of them. “I’ll get the towel,” she said, before repeating: “Couch, please. Indulge me and let me feel useful, will you?” With that, she ducked around Aspel and into the kitchen to fetch the towel, hoping that they might actually do what she asked. That wasn’t working out for her tonight quite as well as it usually did (if they ever actually united in opposition to her, she thought she’d be in real trouble), but she really did prefer to heal them up rather than let them wander about with unnecessary bruises. He watched as Ari disappeared and sighed. There really was no need to heal him - it wasn’t like he’d hit his head or anything. His shoulder and ego were bruised, but he was more or less okay. He walked around the table and put his hand on Aspel’s shoulder. “We should probably humor her,” he said. Ari seemed to want to do something to help, and him and Aspel being awkward was only making that worse. Consideration was given to a rebuttal, about how they were both fine - even if she was worried about Drake’s head - but her mind wasn’t working quite as well as it ought, and the chance escaped her before she could process the words as Ari went flitting by. A huff of air was released as a hand raised, fingers shifting to comb back through her hair. When did her mind get so scattered? Lips fell agape, her head turning a bit quickly at the sudden feeling of a hand on her shoulder - Drake’s, right - before she sighed. “Yet we are both fine.” The response was half hearted really, and honestly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fight the point. Yet, her hand, and body relaxed, leaning away from the contact of the table, and allowing her hand to drop to her side. “Yup,” he agreed, “but Ari wants to feel useful. And since she’s had a long day, probably should just do what she says.” He paused, squeezed her shoulder. “Unless she suggests a threesome,” he joked. There was no way Ari would suggest that. And if she did, that was going to be a whole new level of awkward, which was just making him feel even more awkward, so he removed his hand from her shoulder. As soon as the word ‘but’ passed his lips, Aspel couldn’t help the sigh that emerged from her. A hand waved idly, dismissively and the words “Fine, fine.” accompanied the brief wave of a hand. He had a point, Ari had had a long day, and the entire point of bringing her dinner was to help ease the burden of that day…. A thought they both had had. It was unfortunate that it had turned into such an awkward mess. With that, Aspel made her way to the couch while - oddly - finding herself a bit disappointed that Drake had removed his hand. Ari emerged several moments later, having mopped up the mess on the table and fetched her cup of coffee to take along. Fortunately, two requests seemed to have been enough to get her way in at least this one thing; they did not look particularly happy about it, but least they were on the couch like she’d asked, and they hadn’t even seated themselves on opposite sides of it (the problem, she was beginning to suspect, was her, but in the way of the eternally stubborn and optimistic, she refused to accept it). She gave them a considering look before muttering, “I don’t need an instrument for this.” Not for a few bruises. Still, she set the cup on the table, briefly considered sprawling across both their laps, and settled for the floor in front of them instead. Like a lullaby, she could do this at a hum. It didn’t do much, but then, she didn’t need much, either. A few notes at most, without underpinning,would be enough to fade any bruises. As a bonus, she felt the pain in her feet recede, though her throat was feeling just this side of dangerously tender. Tomorrow, she thought, would be unpleasant. But fortunately, it wasn’t tomorrow yet. The quickest chorus of her life completed, she dragged herself to her feet before plopping on the only available corner of couch and leaning against Drake, who had the poor fortune to be in the middle. “No more injuries for at least twenty-four hours,” she said, sounding more tired than the stern she was going for. “I will lie on you and refuse to let you up if that is what it takes.” “You may need to get significantly bigger, and stronger, before that is a particularly bothersome issue.” Aspel absently added, teasing in its own regard, even if she was thankful that the ache in her hip was now gone. Faram, if that was what her old age was going to be like, she was not looking forward to it in the least. Though, Ari sat on the other side of Drake, and Aspel thought to chime in, to say something, anything really, yet no words came. Ah, well… Wasn’t that just the story of her life this night. Ari let out an annoyed little huff of air, said, “I’m not that small,” and proceeded to do what she had considered unwise only moments ago, sprawling across both their laps, settling her head on Aspel’s thigh, and saying, “And now you’re stuck with me, as I am going to sleep. Thank you in advance for being my body pillows.” “We can just lift you up,” Drake pointed out. He’d done it several times in the past; it wasn’t like Ari weighed a whole lot, and she usually just cuddled into his chest. One of his hands went to rest on the top of Ari’s knee, while the other pressed into the couch between where his and Aspel’s thighs met. “But if you’re tired, we can throw you in your bed and take off.” That actually didn’t sound like a bad idea. It was starting to get late, and sleep was sounding more and more like a good idea. As if to punctuate his thought, he yawned. “Or we could simply stand.” The implication of Ari falling from their laps would be left to each person’s individual imagination as Aspel gave Drake a smirk. “You could,” Ari murmured, not sounding particularly worried, “but that would be mean, and I don’t have enough voice left to heal my subsequent bruises, and then you would feel terrible.” “You overestimate how bad we’d feel,” Drake put in, grinning back at Aspel. “Besides, I’ve gotten into the habit of carrying potions with me. You’d be fine.” “She underestimates our curative abilities.” There was a bit of a pout working its way into the words presented, and Aspel’s smirk fell away, though it could never be said she looked to be a woman without a plan. Shifting, one hand fell to Ari’s hand, fingers beginning to absently comb through the bard’s hair while the other came to rest in her own lap. “No,” Ari interjected. “Perhaps I simply overestimate your desire for my comfort?” And really, she was quite comfortable exactly where she was. “Though if you want to toss me into bed, I won’t complain… much. But no one ever said you had to take off.” “She really does,” he agreed, lifting the hand that had been on the couch up and putting it on the back of the couch, his hand brushing Aspel’s shoulder. Mindlessly, his fingers started to play with loose strands of her hair. “And I would toss you into bed if I didn’t think that’s what you wanted,” he added, looking down at Ari. “I see what you’re trying to do.” A pause was taken, a moment of pensive silence given as eyes wandered over the bard. “I do believe,” Aspel began before her gaze was lifted, and turned to land upon Drake. “That nearly no matter which path we take - standing or sitting - we have already conformed to her wishes. Would you not agree?” A curious brow rose, the statement more deductive reasoning than a tease or joke. Unfortunately, even as close as they had gotten, Drake had still known Ari longer, which often made Aspel be the one slow to catch on to precisely what was going on. Just one more reason to feel out of place. “You came to visit me,” Ari said. Her voice was noticeably softer; coffee or no coffee, she really was comfortable and very tired. Sleeping across their laps was beginning to seem a grand idea indeed. “You brought me food and let me talk you into staying. I’m already happy.” Drake squeezed Ari’s knee and brushed his fingers against the back of Aspel’s neck. “We should probably carry her to bed,” he suggested. If they didn’t get her there soon, she was going to fall asleep in their laps. Not a terrible fate, but it would be harder to move her. And Faram forbid they wake her up if that happened. Aspel managed - successfully - not to sharply exhale at the feeling of Drake’s fingers across the back of her neck, but it didn’t mean there was no reaction at all… Unfortunately. The exhale was subdued, but potentially still identifiable. She’d have to be more careful of these sorts of things in the future she suspected, but - perhaps - hopefully, Ari would be too comfortable, or half out of it to notice if she were lucky. “I shall take this half if you take that.” It was an amusing notion, and would allow for her to get up, away from his absently wandering fingers for the time being as well… Assuming, Drake agreed. If Ari noticed the reaction, she gave no sign. Instead, with a sleepy laugh, she asked them, "Shall you carry me like some... recalcitrant child, one taking arms, one legs?" She imagined hanging between them that way, couldn't decide whether the notion was amusing or unpleasant to contemplate. Knowing Drake, he'd insist on swinging her back and forth and literally throwing her upon the bed for his own amusement. Between the two of them, they could probably toss her halfway across the room. Hopefully, they would refrain from such action. “Sounds like a good idea,” Drake said, giving Aspel a curious glance. He’d thought he’d heard something, but he was probably mistaken. Removing his hand from Aspel’s nape was probably a good idea, though, regardless. “Ooh, we can swing and toss her. Her bed is soft enough; she won’t get hurt.” He scooted over to other side of the couch so that Ari’s ankles were in his lap. “We won’t swing you too high, Ari.” He grinned. “Promise.” “I take back everything I ever said about you being a nice person, Drakey,” Ari grumbled. “Ah, but if we do that, then our daring escape shall be quite ruined.” It was a mild tease, half-hearted at best, and an attempt at amusing herself that didn’t quite fully work. “Besides, I would warn against teasing her too terribly, I would loathe for her to turn the furniture upon the both of us again.” Fingers continued to idly stroke through Ari’s hair, even if Aspel’s gaze had been turned on Drake. “No fun,” Drake complained, good-natured. “But we really do need to get her into bed unless we’re planning on staying over?” It was a question because he wasn’t entirely sure what the plan was. Usually, he did stay over, but he wasn’t sure about Aspel, and he wasn’t sure about both of them staying. That seemed to be a bit much, especially considering the circumstances. “You can either walk or we carry,” he said to Ari. “I’m not walking,” she announced, because that seemed the most unnecessary thing in the world with both of them here. “And,” the sentence was interrupted by a yawn, but she turned her head to look up at them for a moment, “you’re welcome to stay. The bed will easily sleep three.” A fact she knew from several interesting bits of life experience (though to be fair most of them tended to involve Aud, so perhaps not quite the same thing). Aspel’s mouth opened, as if prepared to retort her thoughts on the entire matter when he made comment about getting Ari into bed, but as he finished, it would seem as though whatever she was to say had slipped away. The smith’s face twisted up for a moment, confusion flickering by, and then Ari’s words and…. Aspel felt a bit of distress beginning to swell up inside of her, but tried her best to not allow it to show. “Then carry you we must.” Shifting, her hands would move to Ari’s shoulders, beginning to lift the other woman up. Perhaps if she just didn’t address the other part of the commentary at all, it would simply…. Vanish from the interaction she’d believed her ears to have just heard. Drake laughed, trying to keep the discomfort from his voice. His fingers wrapped around her ankles and he slowly started to stand, making sure to keep a good grip on her. If he dropped her, he’d never hear the end of it. And he really just wanted to tuck her in and go home. He was suddenly very exhausted, and the idea of spending the evening at home - alone - in his bed was more and more attractive. “On three?” “Certainly.” Aspel shifted, prepping as well to mutually lift the woman across both their laps. Maybe if Ari was already half conked out, it would be easier to pick up, store things appropriately, and leave a note for the next day. Really, at this point, that may be ideal…. As unfortunate as it would be in another regard. Her and Ari hadn’t really seen all that much of each other, or had much time to spend together over the course of nearly the past month at this point. “Your count?” An eyebrow quirked, questioning if he had intended to, or if this task would fall upon her as well. Drake nodded. “One,” he said, planting his feet more firmly on the ground. “Two. Three.” As soon as the word three left his mouth, he was starting to stand, making sure to keep any strain out of his voice. Ari was pretty light, but she was also mostly asleep, and therefore a lot of dead weight. Aspel would follow along, firmly establishing her grip, and assuring her stance before lifting up her end of the bard, and beginning to move with Drake towards the bed. Even with the dead weight, half of the bard wasn’t much more than Aspel’s standard suit of armor. Thus, the weight was barely an issue at all. Now, the distribution of it was a bit off, but… That could easily be accounted for with a shift in stance. “I would place good gil upon a bet that this was not how you had planned to spend your eve, no?” A soft smile accompanied the attempted joke as she ventured a brief glance up at him, before her eyes turned down once more to assure ease of movement towards the bed. “Didn’t have much in the way of plans,” he admitted, steering clear random objects that he usually tripped over, even when he wasn’t carrying her. Carefully, they walked to the side of the bed, which was, as Ari had pointed out, definitely big enough for the three of them. All they needed to do was raise her up and put her on the mattress, and then they were home free. Between the two of them, they got her into the bed with no problems, and Drake pulled the side of the blanket and pulled it over her. If she wanted to change or burrow deeper into the covers, well, that was on her. He was only going to do so much. She should be happy that they didn’t swing and toss her onto her bed. Although, now that he was thinking about it, he was pretty sure that the possibility of them overshooting the goal would have been higher than he’d have been comfortable with. “Probably wasn’t how you’d planned on spending your night, either,” he added. “Ah.” The response was soft. Nothing else coming until he spoke again as Aspel focused on assuring she didn’t knock anything over or trip on anything herself. Faram, Ari had not designed her random stacks of things for thought of her being carried by more than one person, now had sh-----.... That was an uncomfortable thought. Bending over, the smith took great pains to carefully adjust the pillow, and one of Ari’s hands to assure the other woman wouldn’t awake with a stiff wrist come morn while also not waking her now. With that done, Aspel stood upright once more, a brief gesture made towards the table - and indirectly for Drake to move in that direction - before shifting to head that way herself. “I suppose not, yet life is full of surprises, no?” He shrugged and moved away from the bed, back towards the table. Fortunately, the food he’d gotten for her would keep, and was also still mostly in the bag. All he had to do was put it in the refrigerator. “I guess,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Need help with the clean up? Or were you planning on staying?” The implication that he was not was pretty clear. Once in front of the table again, Aspel sighed as her eyes scanned over it. Things would keep for the next few days as long as they were picked up. Really, the whole plan of the night had been ruined, and in the most awkward way possible. How did one tell one person they were sleeping with, that they were also sleeping with another of their mutual… Acquaintanceship? Did she have to tell them? Really, it wasn’t any of their mutual business who she slept with as long as everyone was protected and clean. Maybe it was better just not to think of this at all. “If you wish to assist, you are welcome to.” Aspel’s volume dropped down as well as she forced the cork back into the bottle of mead, downed the half a glass she’d left on the table in one gulp, and then began to collect the dishes that had been laid out. “I shall depart shortly as well.” Because really, she didn’t need anyone talking more than they already did. While Aspel dealt with collecting the plates and cups, Drake rinsed off the dishes. He loved Ari, but he didn’t love her enough to do her dishes. (Well, he did, but he was tired and lazy, so he figured that she could take care of those whenever. At least there wouldn’t be dried up food stuck to them to rot in her sink.) They got everything packed up and put away relatively quickly - having more than one person on clean up duty always made it go faster, Drake knew. When they were finished, he grinned. “Want me to walk you home?” If she wasn’t staying, and he wasn’t staying, then he might as well make sure that she got home all right. It wasn’t like it was entirely out of the way. A cant of her head was given towards him as hands were dried against a towel in the kitchen. Everything had been packed away, and the coffee mug - at least - Aspel had cleaned, knowing it likely would be used first thing in the morning again… The rest of the dishes… A quick glance was given over them, most the bard had a spare of, so concern in that regard would be left alone for the night. “If you feel so inclined, I would not deny you.” Of course, Aspel was a big girl too though, she didn’t need to be walked home by anyone. At this point in her life, she’d knocked sense into enough street punks, drunken morons and fellow guild members that most of the riff-raff knew well enough to let her be. “Well, let’s head out,” Drake said. He turned his head to look back at where Ari slept, torn. Part of him wanted to go back and give her a kiss on the forehead, but that would have been awkward with Aspel around. Probably better to just shoot her a network message after he got home; she’d get it in the morning, and it wasn’t like she was awake enough to notice if Drake had given her a proper goodbye or not. His attention turned back to Aspel, to whom he held out his arm. “Shall we?” |