pyr min solemnly swears he is up to no good (twinclaws) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-04-08 01:23:00 |
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For once in his life, Pyr had woken up that morning before his alarm had a chance to ring―nerves making his belly churn, like the day before he and Sky had come to Emillion. He arrived before his mentor did, and posed no complaint of any sort when Jareth added half a mile to his run. The shock that travelled up his legs every time his shoes hit the earth gave him something to focus on, and though he was tired by the time training ended, he felt as though he might go mad if he sat still for longer than a minute. He felt anxious―as though he was the one about to take his class exam, instead of Juliette. He jogged to the Nobles’ District, to the estate where Audrey’s engagement ball had been held (he had to assume that Juliette lived there) to wait for her and accompany her to the guildhall. It was still rather early, so he hung around for some time; still, when his network message yielded no response, he eventually gave up and returned. His morning chores around the guildhall were a game of hide-and-seek with his concentration, which he almost paid dearly for in the chocobo stables. (While he worked, he could picture Juliette doing one kata after another, impressing the proctors, making class. And then―what then?) The buzz of his communicator shook him out of his reverie as he was leaving the stables to break for lunch. I am done. Grinning, he shot her a quick reply―go to the Bazaar, buying you lunch―and left the guildhall at a run, cutting through alleys and crowds to their usual meeting point. It took some time for Juliette to arrive, however. She had received the earlier message upon arrival back at the guesthouse when she finally recalled the powered-down network device in her pocket. She’d stood in the kitchen feeling a little lost -- no training today, no results for days yet, what to do with herself? -- when she’d remembered. She’d felt a bit bad about the message -- it seemed they’d just missed each other -- but he seemed not to be terribly bothered. And really, if she didn’t accept the invitation, what was she to do? Alys was out (a dress fitting, no doubt) and the house was empty. It would be emptier still before long. An unpleasant thought. She had thus agreed readily, hunted up a pair of leashes and taken Boris and Mercutio along. It was a pleasant day -- perhaps a bit of a run would clear her head and please them. Perhaps Pyr might even decide to join them? Boris didn’t seem to frighten him, and no one was frightened of Mercutio. And thus she arrived at the Bazaar with some delay, two leashes in hand, cutting herself a path easily as people gave Boris a wide berth. She raised her hand to wave when she spotted Pyr near the crystal, trying for a smile. it wasn’t as difficult as she thought it might have been; relief had a lightening effect on her mood. One way or another, at least it was done. “Apologies,” she said once she had drawn level with him, “we have been trying to keep them clear of the gardeners while they plant, and they needed some air.” And so did I. Pyr was the sort to choose a food cart, so she doubted she would have to tie them to a post somewhere… With a laugh, he waved her words off. “That’s cool! I don’t have to go back for a while yet.” The earlier nerves had given way to excitement, and he crouched in front of the dogs, reaching out to scratch Boris between the ears. “You’re looking particularly fluffy today, Boris! And you,” he said to Mercutio, when the puppy barked as if to demand he be petted as well, “you’re so white today, Mer!” “I see your keen observation skills are intact.” But she was smiling. It was nice to see a person willing to take the time to talk to a dog, and Mercutio was practically wiggling his entire body in excitement at the attention. “I thought I might take them for a jog in the park after lunch,” she said. “If you would like to accompany us, you are welcome to do so. Unless you have to return to training soon, of course.” Pyr stood up and grinned at her. “Sure, let’s do that. I’m game.” He was building up an endurance, thanks to the demon training regimes imposed by Jareth and Councilor Cassul; where months ago he would have been wheezing on the ground like a fish out of water, now the thought of taking a jog around the park with the dogs after all he’d trained that morning seemed not only tolerable but attractive. “But first, where do you want to have lunch? It’s your day, so you choose. I’ll tag along.” She shifted uncomfortably -- her day sounded strange and too grand -- before saying, “I had thought you had already selected something, since you issued the invitation. But… if you hadn’t, there’s a barbeque stand in the Commoners’ District park that I rather like.” Actually, she’d been thinking of it off and on recently -- hopefully the vendor had returned with the warmer weather. She would get her squid, and the dogs would get their air as they headed down. In response, Pyr gave her a thumbs-up. The walk to the Commoners' District was spent talking about any inconsequential topic either of them could come up with, and stopping every now and then when bystanders approached to pet or croon at Boris or Mercutio. No matter how much he wanted to, Pyr managed to keep himself from asking about the exam. If the past months of their friendship had taught him anything, it was this: Juliette had most likely done well on the exam, and she would almost certainly express uncertainty about her performance if asked. And so Pyr didn't ask. "I didn't know you liked this stuff," he said, when they arrived at their destination (the stall was indeed open, and the scent coming from it made Pyr's stomach grumble). “A guild member introduced me to it last summer,” she said. She did not mention the circumstances -- even after all this time, she felt vaguely guilty about skipping her training to wander the city aimlessly for a day, though she had suffered no consequences for this breach of responsibility (or, perhaps, precisely because she had suffered none). “It is not the sort of food I would eat every day but… once in awhile, it is nice treat.” She gave the woman behind the cart her order, which Pyr promptly echoed. Once that was done and the woman set about making the food, Juliette spent a moment casting about for a topic -- what could they possibly discuss that wasn’t training, in one capacity or another? -- before deciding that there was no harm in mentioning his: “I hope your mentor was not too harsh with you after your birthday? I recall you were late that day, but despite your… hyperbole, you seem alive and no worse for wear after whatever he devised." "He wasn't happy. I mean he cheered up a little once I started running." Pyr pulled a face. "I guess it's against guild regulations to kill squires." Then again, what did he know? He had been shocked to learn, recently, that napping wasn't a right established in those very same regulations, and from there, as far as he was concerned, it was a slippery slope. That caused a smile; belatedly, Juliette covered it with her hand, looking down. It wasn’t polite to be amused at others’ misfortune. Still: “I think he enjoys seeing you run. Are you quite certain you wish to run with the dogs?” Pyr glimpsed the smile before she hid it, and he grinned in spite of himself. "Running with dogs is an improvement on my morning run, you know. I mean, Jareth barks at me all the time." He laughed and looked down at Boris and Mercutio. "But these guys are more fun. Fluffier. And I like being with you. " “Do not compare him to a canine too loudly; not everyone would be pleased with such a comparison,” she told him, a means of stretching time as she processed the final comment he had made -- the easy, almost thoughtless statement of friendship. It always had seemed simple for him. Still, it warranted a response; finally, she said, “I enjoy your company as well… when you are not being trying.” Or reek of wine, she added mentally. Fortunately, she was saved from further comment by the completion of their order; she took the flimsy paper plate and found her mouth watering at the scent of the food. “Shall we find a bench?” she offered. “We should eat while it is hot, before we run.” At an easy pace, it wouldn’t be a problem to jog with a full stomach. And if she slipped the dogs bits of her food (and caught him doing the same when he thought she wasn’t watching) could anyone really blame them? |