Rictor/Ari | Theatre District | 11:00am
A dry chuckle. “We might be becoming something like friends, Ari, but I’m nowhere near fucking ready for you to tease me like that,” on that particular front, at least, “just yet. So I’ll choose door two, thanks. Save it for when I least expect it – maybe I’ll choke on a chicken bone and make it all even more enjoyable for you. You’ll get the story when I’m good and ready.”
He rose from the side of the dry fountain, dusting off his trousers as he did so. Their pleasant little interlude, it seemed, was at an end – the knight was digging in his heels on this topic just as if he were a stubborn oxen, the walls slamming down.
“Good running into you, though. And good luck with the Kerwonian songs.” He held out his hand for a handshake, his grin just a tad too knowing. (The difference: this time, he didn’t say anything.)