sir rictor cassul, korporal. (templars) wrote in emillion, |
Lex set aside the second in a slowly accumulating row of empty glasses as he spoke. This particular brew had proved itself slightly above the others in taste, although she remained far from satisfied with her collection of drinks. Certainly less so than the others in the tavern that night, she thought to herself, those who seemed quite content in a setting such as this. Regardless of her earlier feelings, however, she was determined to not shrink away from the challenges presented to her. "I've not succumbed yet, it appears," she replied with her usual sharpness. Although if she was to consider it, her hand reaching toward the third small glass, this one darker in hue, once Rictor inevitably returned to the crowds, it was likely she would vanish into evening. Perhaps even literally (magick did have a number of values, after all). Her goals for the evening finally met, there would be little reason to remain. "I can take care of myself rather well, after all." Pride mixing boldly with an attempt at reassurance, Lex began to taste her next drink. “That you can.” He said it blandly, with no trace of either irony, mockery, disagreement, nor wholehearted agreement: Rictor was being surprisingly careful. The recollection of Lex reeling and falling came back to mind – it had been imprinted on his eyelids when he tried to blink in that dim and dreary and rotting cave. (He’d been dressed down by the Hauptmann afterwards for that lapse in attention, forced to explain the break in formation. Balder had covered for him, but Filip’s report was unerringly accurate, as it always was.) But then again... on the other side of the coin, there was the blinding flashes of Holy, repeating over and over and over with pinpoint precision. “You taking your arithmetician tests soon?” Rictor asked suddenly, a sideways switch in the topic like a swinging pendulum. Lex was caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. Bringing up her other hand, should she accidentally sputter into the glass and spill beer on herself (very undignified), she very carefully drained the last of her drink. Setting it aside with the others, she was suddenly grateful at how small they all were in comparison to the now discarded tankard. The effect of the alcohol therefore, while noticeable, was quite minor indeed--especially for someone of her size. "Yes, very soon," she replied, sounding at once more enthusiastic. Lex was apparently looking forward to this event. "I've been attempting to organize them for shortly after my--" Instead of saying birthday, she cleared her throat and looked down to the table. "Very soon." “After your what?” Lex rarely misspoke – perhaps the tray of half-consumed samplers had something to do with it – and that alone meant it was enough to draw his curiosity. Say one thing for Rictor Cassul: he was like a hound worrying a bone once he noticed a loose thread, pulling steadily until the whole thing unraveled. Lex rolled her eyes and reached for another glass. Instead of consuming it straight away, she dangled the drink in front of her as if she was assessing it. Considering whether or not she should reveal anything further, or simply let him guess at more vague responses, a stubborn part of her seemed to wobble before eventually giving in. There was something peculiar (and slightly unnerving) about their last casual conversation, some point she had obviously failed to recognize. Whatever it had been, she felt in some manner determined to figure it out. "My birthday," she admitted plainly. As fast as the words came out, however, Lex made quick work of her drink. "It's on the sixteenth of this month," she croaked out, squinting off in the distance and planting her gaze on nothing in particular. Trial and error. The sixteenth. Rictor seemed to pause for a moment, running a quick count through his head and comparing today’s date to— “But that’s five days from now,” he said, stating the obvious, surprise laced through the statement. Ric dropped his beer, letting it settle on the table beside him. Why had no one told him about her upcoming birthday? “Shit, this party practically should’ve been for you, too. Leo must be a popular month.” |