lionel baines. (chivalries) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-11-01 09:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, lionel baines, loch lemach |
WHO: Lionel Baines & Loch Lemach.
WHAT: Catching up. Sort of.
WHERE: The Bazaar, followed by The Kranky Knight.
WHEN: Backdated to mid-October.
WARNINGS: None.
STATUS: Complete.
The streets of the Bazaar were bustling with people under the midday sun. Merchants fought each other for the attention of anyone milling about, loudly boasting about how their respective wares were the best in the city. Lionel quickly weaved in and out of the crowd, never staying at one stall for too long. As much as he enjoyed exploring this district, he didn’t frequent the area often. He could buy most of the things he needed at the corner market in the Commoner’s district. The Bazaar had a wider range of goods, yes, but Lionel was loath to spend money on anything he didn’t consider a necessity. Unless, of course, he was purchasing a present for someone. His eyes fell on a table of handbags and purses, and while Lionel would not consider himself knowledgeable about such things, he easily recognized them as poor imitations of the bags one saw in the Nobles district. The gray-haired woman in charge of the stall noticed his attention and smiled eagerly at him, gesturing toward a hideous blue purse. “Authentic wyvern skin, dear! And the color matches your eyes!” “Oh no,” he replied hastily, stepping away from the table. “I’m not interested in—it wouldn’t be for me.” The final step away from the old woman and her bags ended with him careening into someone. Lionel immediately wheeled around to offer the person a hurried apology. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was—” He trailed off as his eyes finally locked onto the familiar face of the woman he’d bumped into. A large grin blossomed on his face. The blue mage’s expression was akin to a puppy seeing its owner after a long day. “Loch!” Her immediate reaction—to inquire if he would like to look at her fist flying toward his face—was replaced by a curse as she saw who it was. "Lionel." It was clear from her tone that she didn't share his excitement. She had spent years, decades, trying to figure out what was behind the happy-go-lucky facade, and she doubted today would be the day Miles' darling brother would give up the ruse. "How nice to see you. Damn skippy. Now, I won't be keeping you. Enjoy your shopping." With a mocking bow of her head, she started to walk again, hoping such would be the end of this unlooked-for, and unwanted, bit of social interaction. And she was off. Lionel stared after her for a moment, blinking stupidly, before he snapped out of it. It would take more than that curt farewell to deter him from a proper reunion with one of his oldest—well, ‘friends’ wasn’t the right word, but ‘acquaintances’ was far too impersonal. He was at her elbow in a few long strides, gift buying long forgotten. “Now, hold on a moment. We haven’t seen each other in years! I’d love to catch up, I mean—how are you?” He looked down at her as he spoke, easily following her through the crowd despite his massive size. The broad, earnest grin was back on his face, unfailingly genuine despite Loch’s brusque attitude. He wouldn’t be deterred. Trying to brush him off like that had been an exercise in futility. And somehow she doubted even being rude to him would do the trick—it had never worked before. So she rolled her eyes and relented. “All right, Lionel. Let’s catch up.” If she couldn’t avoid it, then it was better to get it over with soon as possible. “Business is smooth sailing. Still working for Philip. Doing fine.” With a smirk, she asked, “And you? Done giving free hugs all over the world with your merry band of goody-two-shoes?” “Oh, no, I decided to bring the free hugs here to Emillion,” he replied cheerfully, not missing a beat. Lionel wasn’t sure what Loch had against him—he’d been trying to figure it out for years now—but it didn’t dull his fondness for her. “Really, though,” he continued, frowning slightly, “I came back because I wanted to—” “What a darling couple you two make!” A portly merchant materialized on the other side of Loch. “Come over to my tent. We have treats for couples, very reasonably priced. The both of you will be very satisfied, I can guarantee this!” Loch stiffened; like a cat with its back up, she rounded on the merchant and lashed out, "Go pitch your wares elsewhere, or I can guarantee, I take your treats and show you where to stuff 'em for maximum satisfaction. Savvy?" A few passersby turned to look in their direction. Loch grabbed Lionel by the arm and started to drag him away. "Fuckin' ridiculous," she mumbled under her breath. "Listen, Lionel, you wanna catch up, we find someplace quieter. I fucking hate the Bazaar. Always full of people." She spit the word out like a curse. Lionel let himself be dragged away, pointedly ignoring any odd glances being thrown in their direction. Loch could’ve used the persistent shopkeeper as an opportunity to ditch him; she hadn’t. She wanted to go someplace quieter. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a pleased grin. What an odd request for someone who supposedly detested his company. “Well,” he began, and his face scrunched up in thought as he mentally went through a list of locations Loch wouldn’t completely loathe, “The Noodle House? The Pi Company?” Lionel immediately regretted that suggestion; Loch didn’t seem like she would appreciate a good math pun. “There’s a new tavern that’s supposed to be pretty good. The Kranky something-or-other.” New tavern meant it would still be relatively unknown; not too many people, hopefully. “That last one’ll work.” Lionel led her to the place in question: The Kranky Knight. It didn’t look too bad from the outside, at least. They walked in, and, as Loch had hoped, there were only a handful of patrons, most of them huddled around the bar; playing cards against the bartender, and it looked like they were getting fleeced. When they groaned, the corners of Loch’s mouth turned up. Nothing like seeing an accomplished cheat at work to lighten her mood. The man invited her and Lionel to join, but Loch declined. If they dealt her in, against this man, she would lose. And she only ever played to win. She didn’t even bother ordering a drink that she wouldn’t touch, instead, she made her way toward a table at the back. “Catching up, then,” Loch said, once seated, and gave Lionel and expectant look. “Tell me about your travels. Rainbows and free hugs, all that jazz. I’m listening.” The sooner they got it over with, the better. “Er, well—” The blue mage’s eyes immediately drifted to the card game at the bar. He was no card shark (Miles always said he was a terrible partner to have during a game, as he had nothing remotely resembling a poker face), but it didn’t take an airship engineer to realize the men were being cheated. A different conversation topic came to mind. “Oh, you know,” he replied, attempting to sound nonchalant. “We were building homes in Kerwon for a while. The Disciples were traveling up the Ordalian coast when I left. It was wonderful. I’ve never felt more at peace.” He leaned forward suddenly and abruptly changed the topic, with all the subtlety of a runaway train. “But hey, listen, what else is going on with you? You said you’re still working for Philip! That’s great! And what else? Have you seen Miles lately?” Loch blinked, startled at the sudden change of topic—though from Lionel, there was nothing to be surprised about. “Still working at the docks, aye,” she said, slowly. “Got my own research going on, as usual.” Research was a convenient term—not a lie, but rather a vague truth. She had spoken about her Machinist studies with Lionel before, on a few occasions when he’d been similarly pushy, though she made sure to never go into specifics. The last thing she needed was a lecture on the morality of her business practices. At the mention of Miles, though, she hesitated half a beat before saying, “Once since he returned to Emillion.” Her expression was as nonchalant as she could make it, as though she were speaking about something as inconsequential as the weather. “Ah, he has prima donna business to attend to; wouldn’t want a single curl to fall out of place.” She gave a derisive snort. “Guess you’ll go see the play, huh?” “I guess,” Lionel replied, still trying and failing to sound as casual possible. He twiddled his thumbs as he gave her his most innocent looking smile. He didn’t fully understand the relationship Loch had with his brother; in fact, Lionel had a very idealistic and romantic view of their relationship. Sure, they had their—complications from time to time, but it was nothing that couldn’t be sorted out. “I’ve an extra ticket, if you’re interested.” A hand went to the back of his neck as he continued—a nervous tic from his childhood. “I’m sure he’d love to see you again.” Or he’d throw a fit in the middle of the theater. It was hard to say, really. Loch snorted. She was on the verge of refusing the offer outright—but something stopped her. How entertaining it would be, she mused, to see the look on Miles’ face when she showed up to the performance unannounced? He would not expect her to go—and she expected his reaction would not be lacking in amusement value. And like that, it was decided. When had she ever been able to let a chance to needle Miles pass her by? “You know what, Lionel? Count me in.“ She leaned forward, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers with a smile. “Bet it’ll be anything but boring.” She did wonder, absently, if he really thought it was so simple as that. Fuck, but if he’d spent all these years lying to them all, he had the best poker face in all of Ivalice. Lionel couldn’t stop himself from staring in shock. “Really?” Huh. That went easier than expected. He leaned back into his seat, still processing the pleasant surprise. “Well, I don’t know much about this play he’s in,” he admitted, “but I can guarantee it won’t be boring.” He returned her smile with one of his own. “Opening night’s no good, unfortunately. I’m surprising him with the folks. But closing night, maybe?” The folks. Hearing Miles’ foster parents mentioned was always strange, like noticing a piece of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit. Lionel, she could picture being homely and leaving Faram’s Mass presents under a tree for his family to find the following morning; Miles, she could only imagine absconding with the presents, and the tree while he was at it. The thought of Miles Baines conforming to such a dull lifestyle as anything more than another mask was ludicrous. “Ought to work,” Loch said. En attendant Godot—Miles had mentioned it on the network, when he’d got the part. And no wonder he had; he liked the sound of his own voice far too much not to enjoy such a play. “You let me know, hmm?” And as abruptly as that, she stood up from her chair and prepared to flee the air of companionship that was threatening to bud around them. “See you around.” She gave Lionel a half-smirk in goodbye. It was returned with a look of surprise, but before Lionel could speak or try to keep her there, she was already walking out. The last sounds she heard were the would-be cardsharps’ laments, and boisterous laughter from behind the bar; by the time the door swung closed behind her, she had pushed every thought about the encounter firmly to the back of her mind. |