Random 88

"Um." She wiggled a little nervously - that hadn't been meant as a challenge! - but took a deep breath. She gave repeating the sounds a stab, and hoped she didn't butcher them too badly.

He smiled and tilted his head. "No worries, love. Just sharing how I'd have said it."

She sighed, sounding maybe just a litte exasperated, and said with a wry smile, "Everybody's allowed to be silly sometimes." Particularly when baited.

"You'll get no disagreement from me," he said leisurely, closed his eyes and took another deep, lazy breath. The words 'back to work' were not likely to come out of him for a while.

For a while Sylvie just enjoyed the quiet and closeness. She had forgotten what being able to truly let your guard down in front of someone felt like. It was a huge relief.

However... "We should probably see about food at some point."

His eyes opened. Yes, there was that, but for similar reasons as Sylvie, he somehow saw it as a crying shame. Still, better to make the best of it, Sebastian mused. "Hmm-m. I know I worked up an appetite." Pause. "Right now?"

"Mhm. Soon?" There was work waiting, too. Dammit, I don't want to be sensible.

"I'll count to three hundred."

That got a chuckle and a peck on the tip of his nose.

A more persistent fit of giggles ensued a little later, when it turned out that between Sylvie leaving her gear at Old Ivy, and Sebastian leaving his worldly possessions in Auker's kitchen, they were again stranded without a comb. They made do, anyway.

By the time they'd turned out passable, it was quite late for lunch, but House Crow had some fish soup left, and on the upside there were plenty of seats free. The conversation in the common room was, unsurprisingly, focused on the weather change.

Still amused by their constant lack of combs, Sebastian chose a seat close to the door, back toward the wall. It wasn't nerves, just deeply ingrained in his behaviour and habits. His ears twitched a little when words concerning the weather reached them; the half-elf had looked happy coming down the stairs, at least, and now there was a bit of smug relief to add to that.

But it wasn't all smugness. He plonked his plate down and pulled a chair for Sylvie, eyeing the common room and listening to the murmurs of other people. It was hard to separate individual conversations, but he nonetheless categorised them into relief, some astonishment at how the rain had been so rough, grumblings about damages and some other things.

He tilted his head and thought for a while, utterly forgetting his hands were on the backrest of Sylvie's chair.

She tugged on his sleeve and tilted her head towards the free seat to remind him to sit down.

"What're you thinking about?"

That snapped him out of it. "Oh. Heh." He claimed his seat, eyebrows knit together in a thoughtful, not at all worried look. "The aftermath. I mean, it feels good to know you've just nearly solved a problem and made it somewhat better, but..."

"...then there are loose ends." Getting a full list back to mind might take a bit. She would be cross if the clergy didn't take over some of it.

When she tasted the soup, which was a bit thin, but not too bad in all, she realised it had been quite a while since her last warm meal.

"There are those," he admitted, content with just having had something to eat. Urges and how they waged war on each other had, after all, made him forget all about his need for food. Blood sugar as well as that other high were doing nasty things to his sense of space and messing with his thoughts. Still, he finished his meal and tried to mentally prepare himself for an immediate exit if need be.

Sylvie had had a better breakfast, but did not try to talk things out in detail in a public room full of strangers, likewise concentrating on the food.

When they were finished, she asked, "So, back to the shrine now, or...?"

He gave a sigh and stretched. "Probably for the best. Maybe there's something to learn there," he said intentionally vaguely, avoiding details. Flexing his neck muscles, Sebastian stood up. "Or did you have something in mind?" he asked her curiously as they were fully out in the sunshine and puddles again.

"First thing I could think of, hoping to hear of a decision..." She took his arm and leaned in close so she could lower her voice. "And if they went back to supporting a raid, I'll damn well find a way to make them line up their necks with their voices. Can you imagine Ramend facing off against any guard?"

"With bribes, just not with those sticks he thinks are his arms," Sebastian answered softly, plotting a route for the shrine. "I once heard a joke that business men can carry either their weight in ownership papers or gold. Anything else and they can't life for damn. But yes, I hope they won't be thinking of that course of action."

Sylvie chuckled. "The richest traders are the ones who hold most owed favours, they say back home."

Ludovic, now, that was a problem she didn't want to discuss on the open street, even quietly.