Mag Paget, Shotgun Knight (clippedwing) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-08-02 01:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, aspel cassul, magnolia paget |
some days I can't even trust myself...
Who: Mag & Aspel.
What: Put down the communicator already, Aspel.
Where: Apartment above The Armory.
When: Thursday evening.
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
The kettle sang on the stove. Mag took out two cups from a cupboard overhead and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Aspel check her handheld communicator. For the fifth time in under an hour. Mag shook her head, but made no comment. She continued making tea as if she hadn’t noticed a thing. It had been a day since Ari had gone to Ordalia on vacation, and Mag was willing to bet that was related to Aspel’s new habit. Whether Aspel herself realized it or not, that was a different story; after returning from Bahamut Hall, the smith had been wandering around the apartment with a furrow in her brow and a look of confusion in her eyes. Once the tea was ready, Mag placed both cups on a tray and carried it into the living room. As she turned around, she caught sight of Aspel checking her communicator yet again. “Aspel, sweetheart, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing on the ECN that wasn’t there when you checked five minutes ago,” she sighed. "Mm?" A slight pause was taken, fingers tapping against her leg for a moment before Aspel’s gaze rose. "Ah." Her brow furrowed (again - if she realized it or not) a moment and the device was hesitantly glanced upon again. "I suspect you are correct." Shifting, a slight sigh slipped out. The network seemed so dead recently. Or maybe it was just a trick of her imagination. Regardless, she should probably make herself more useful around the apartment than she had been as Mag had set about making tea and whatever seemed to cross her mind. “Do you need help with-” Her sentence was cut off as she finally noticed Mag holding the completed tea. A sheepish smile rose. “My apologies.” With another huff of air the handheld was moved to the coffee table in front of them, finally out of her obsessive grasp for checking and rechecking the device. Aspel had always admitted she was prone to addiction and obsession, playing with that damn handheld device seemed to be nothing less than her normal operating bent. “I will endeavor to be less...” Less what though? “Distracted.” Even with that comment she couldn’t help the bit of tension she felt rising in her body to pick up the communicator again and check it. For what? She hadn’t a clue. “Ah, don’t you worry.” Mag shook her head and joked, “But know that if I let the tea oversteep, you’ll have to drink it anyway, as punishment for not helping me.” That had happened on more than one occasion, and Aspel was the one who often let her know when the tea was done so Mag wouldn’t forget. Mag took a sip from her cup and was relieved to note it wasn’t bitter. “Hm, you lucked out,” she told Aspel, though she had a feeling her words weren’t even reaching her friend. Aspel’s communicator was on the table, but it still held her attention, it seemed. Her eyes kept darting toward it, as if it might ring at any time. Mag placed her cup back on the table and asked, “What’s on your mind?” A low huff was let out. “I suspect I can live with such.” Really, if a little oversteeped tea was the worst she had to deal with today, it’d be a blessing with all of the other messes they’d gotten themselves into over the course of the past few weeks. Mag hadn’t been back that long but Faram with everything going on it almost felt like forever on some days. “Did I?” A faint smile emerged, something really only half there if she were honest with herself. However, honesty with herself seemed much harder than expected these days. A hand retrieved her own cup of tea, and the liquid was blown over without much thought behind the action with eyes absently, almost unconsciously, dipping down to the communicator again. “Mm?” The question brought her back around again, and it took her a moment, trying to blink away whatever mist seemed to be clogging her brain. “Ah, I,” What was going on with her? “am unsure.” Another weak smile arose, hand rising as if it were going to reach for something before dropping back into her lap and the smith’s brow really furrowed attempting to sincerely consider a real answer to Mag’s question. The other woman deserved that at the very least. “I... Am anxious.... I suspect.” She couldn’t explain why or how or... Any of it really, but she was. Mag held back a chuckle at the clueless expression on Aspel’s face. “You suspect. Well, I can tell something’s bothering you.” And she had a fair idea what it might be, but perhaps Aspel didn’t, so Mag decided to take the long way around. “Well, let’s see. Did anything happen at Bahamut today? Anything that would make you anxious?” Mag was willing to ask about every possibility, even if it took some time, just to see if Aspel would come to the same conclusion she had. The distraction of the question was welcome and somehow mildly grating. Now that was odd, she never was bothered when Mag poked at her, at least it was so rare that it basically felt like never. “Nothing out of the norm.” Came the response after a few moments of silent consideration over the events of her day. “Just the normal paperwork, and damage control of over zealous fighters and their egos.” And Faram, did they all have egos. Not that she didn’t have one herself but some of these people just... Could really blow one’s mind from time to time. How could anyone think they were the best in the world? Especially, when there was someone just two training rooms down breaking their record? “I would guess it to be all the troubles in Emillion as of late.” Which made logical sense. There had been so much damage and so much loss of life. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t being tempted back into the dark as of late. “I have not been taking to them well.” The volume of her voice dropped, something a bit pained creeping in. Faram, what was she doing? Mag had intended to work her way up to the topic of Ari little by little, but Aspel’s reaction to her question was unexpected. It seemed her friend was more on edge than Mag had suspected. In that case, even if she brought up Ari, she was pretty sure no progress would be made on that front. It was then time to change tactics completely. She took the cup out of Aspel’s hands and placed it on the table, next to the handheld device. “It’s true the last few weeks haven’t done the city any favours, but I’m pretty sure,” here her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “those monsters haven’t conquered the bar yet. So let’s get some air and go see Vivi at the Duckling.” They had just made tea, but it wasn’t a huge loss, and clearly Aspel needed some fresh air. “You said you’re distracted. Maybe you just need a different distraction to trump that one.” She grinned and stood up to take the cups back to the kitchen. “And for every time you check that,” she pointed at Aspel’s communicator, “you will owe me a drink.” The cup being removed from her hands caused Aspel’s attention to land fully on Mag, a bit of confusion coloring her features for a moment. However, as the other woman began to speak the smith simply nodded along until a break in the words happened. “Mm.” Aspel couldn’t help but agree with Mag’s statement about the city being in a bloody wreck as of late. Really, there was no other appropriate way to put it. Though when her tone dropped to that whisper, it really caught the smith’s attention and she found herself leaning in a little, even though the action was likely far from needed in their current surroundings. The suggestion brought a laugh however, and earned an amused shake of Aspel’s head. “That they have not.” An entertained huff escaped her lips. “Mm, perhaps I do.” It wasn’t a bad point really, maybe she just needed to get out, to get her mind away from all of this mess, and on a good story, or a good time. The commentary about Aspel checking her communicator earning Mag drinks did earn a hearty but somewhat offended laugh. “Perhaps I will simply leave it here, just to serve you right.” Of course, the smith said this while standing and swiping the communicator off the table, one last glance stolen that Mag wouldn’t see before it was dumped in her pocket. She was a rather terrible addict after all. |