make friends with cannibals (mediocracy) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-11-28 14:24:00 |
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He had planned to visit the courthouse for other reasons, for pertinent business, and so Theo did not consider it too unusual for him to go wandering about after he had seen his tasks finished. Eyes were drawn to him anyway, as his armor and sword declared him as an outsider, a member of the Fighters Guild, and he stifled back the urge to glare or make gestures at the clerks and attendants milling about the hallways. After going through an entire circuit around the building without finding who he was looking for however, he punched down the last of his stubborn pride and grabbed one of the clerks by the arm. This one, at least, didn’t look to be the same as the one he had (accidently) spilt coffee on some time before. The man still had reason enough to look startled. Theo released his grip but continued to loom down on him and intimidate (not on purpose). “Finch,” he said, or asked, or bellowed, the impatient lilt of his voice echoing down the marble hallway. “Where?” The clerk’s mouth gaped open, speechless. Said clerk was no ventriloquist, yet an answer bounced to them from afar. “Behind you.” Stray gazes flew back to their own business as the elder Finch brother strode over to the two men. Unlike Theo’s, Evan’s garb camouflaged him to match the others that worked in the Courts. The passersby picked up their pace to avoid the fighter, unaware that it was the wolf in sheep’s clothing was the honorable judge. Evan waved to the now-shaking clerk with the hand not holding hastily packed leftovers from his lunch break. With a bow to both noblemen, the court worker scurried away. A sigh directed to his brother, half-exasperated and half-amused. “How goes?” Theo ignored the others milling about in favor of his brother, found at last. So much effort to search out one damned judge, he frowned, but here the man finally was. “Well enough, considering,” and the knight made a broad gesture with one hand, as if it explained all. His gaze moved instinctively down to the leftovers in his brother’s possession, assessing them with his usual sour expression. He’d caught Evan on his lunch break, or so it seemed (of course here and now it was the Honorable Judge Finch--a thought near always capable of making him groan). “Satisfactory?” Evan’s eyes followed his brothers and flew to the packed meal, a reminder that paperwork had swallowed his free time before he had the chance to finish his own food. “Satisfactory?” he echoed, before answering mildly, not as concerned with the finesse of cooking and food as were Divina and his brother. “Aye, I suppose. Hadn’t time yet to fully enjoy.” “Aye,” Theo grunted, supposing to himself that whatever meal his older brother had packed was of insufficient quality--at least by his own stringent standard. And whether or not the judge, his brother, intended on taking a proper amount of time to eat was another matter entirely. Not that Theo himself was never guilty of forgoing a proper meal for duties. After all, he had spent Faram only knew how long lingering in the courthouse instead of taking a lunch for himself. Which was more to the point really. “On break, are you?” Theo crossed his arms and the question sounded, unfortunately, more like an interrogation than the beginning of a friendly proposition for two brothers to spend time together. Which was what he was fucking planning on to being with, but there was more than enough time to find himself thrust away from that particular venture--as inept at these sorts of ventures as he often was. “Aye--no, just finished.” The older Finch gave a slight jerk of the head to his packed lunch upon correcting his answer, unperturbed by harsh delivery of the younger’s question. “Here for business?” "Was," he corrected, having already completed his errands here (as tedious as they were). Evan's response wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, however, and Theo's budding hopes had been dashed seemingly at once. He already looked perturbed just to be in this particular place, so the subtle shift in expression could only be identified by most well-trained of eyes. "You know how it is." He shuffled around on his feet, looking elsewhere. "Going for lunch myself." “Are you now?” These brothers were out of sync as was, despite efforts, their curse. Evan raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. (A habit shared. There was no itch.) If the judge thought there was something troubling on the knight’s expression, he wrote it off as imagination. These brothers were again out of sync. There was a beat, an orator lost for words as he surveyed his brother and evaluated his own schedule. However much the other’s expression jarred him was hidden when he next spoke. “Have a place in mind? Could give you recommendations.” “Familiar enough with the area,” Theo said quickly, and the accidental raising of his voice made someone down the hall turn their head (he scowled at them). He was impatient now, disappointment prickling at hands and feet and propelling him into motion--and away from here, most likely. He would try again another day perhaps. Keeping all shattered prospects of spending time with Evan to himself, the knight gave his brother a swat on the arm before making motion to leave. “See you in the evening, I suspect.” “Aye. Evening.” Evan gave his brother a quick nod, his mouth opening and closing with a suggestion never said. He parted ways to return to his work, his lunch soon forgotten to cool as quickly as did the meeting with his brother. |