Open RP post for Hadand Algara-Vayir

[deheldegarthe]

And so all caution fell away, all the distance of the trained observer who tries to plan ahead to avoid disaster, who defers to diplomatic necessity, even in games — skills her mother had taught her since she was very small. She was young and strong, and the single thing she shared with Tanrid was the intensity of focus that could be terrifying to those who did not know them, yet thought they did.

Bring me your plots, or send a message to tricia868 if you want to talk things out first!

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[deheldegarthe]

The air smells like steel and weapon polish over top of the lingering smells of breakfast. She carries her knives more out of habit and love than necessity here, but she has no intention of giving them up. Not even if she could stay, which isn't a thing that bears thinking about because she's as sick at the thought of leaving as she ever was homesick. Gus is a very large part of the reason for that. A different sort of borrowed time than the kind either of them is used to, but loss is still loss.

As Gus's fingers brush lightly against her leg under the table, she looks up at him and smiles, still rubbing at the blade with a cloth. After a moment, she says thoughtfully, "I've heard some of your world's music. Is it just coincidence that I haven't seen you dance?"

[itsametaphor]

Gus hates this. He hates that they're on borrowed time and for a while he was bitter that it was choice, not death, taking Hadand away from him. However, he's since come to terms with it (as much as is possible) while still fostering the faintest hope that Hadand will change her mind and stay in Teleios with him. Right now, he's simply trying to make the most of the time they have left, and he knows that Hadand is doing the same.

He's idly fiddling with an unlit cigarette in his mouth (something that's become more common than it once had been since Hadand had made the decision to leave) and gliding his fingers up and down her leg as he watches her clean her blades. Her question makes him chuckle and he shakes his head. "I'm not a great dancer. I used to dance some then I lost my leg and stopped. Besides, it's probably not dancing the way you dance back home."

Because that is her home still whether he likes it or not.

[deheldegarthe]

"Marlovans don't dance much except as children. Children are more energetic than they are talented, and most of our grace as adults is reserved for combat training. I'm more graceful with my knives than I am in a ballroom." Hadand can learn footwork fairly quickly, but she struggles to move in any way besides purposefully.

Hadand sheaths her knife, sets it down, and hooks a foot around Gus's ankle to pull his leg against hers. She drops one hand below the table to let her fingers trace over his hand.

[itsametaphor]

Gus shakes his head a little at Hadand's words. "In that case, I think I can teach you to dance." He does the swaying sort of thing with some occasional twirling and dipping on her part.

He takes that step, moving close to Hadand, he turns his hand, palm in toward hers and dips his head. "We're going to need some music."

[deheldegarthe]

"Since I can't very well play drums and dance at the same time, I'll leave the music up to you." Hadand slides her hand into Gus's and gets to her feet in a single, smooth motion. Her knives stay discarded on the table in a way they never would have when she first arrived in Teleios.

[itsametaphor]

"Good choice," he tells her as he takes her hand and fishes for his phone out of the other pocket. Despite the fact that it has no reception here, he still keeps it for photographs and music. With a few swipes and taps, Gus connects the phone to the bluetooth speakers and withing a few seconds the strains of this song start playing.

Once the music is playing, Gus wraps his free arm around Hadand's waist and starts swaying with her. "There's really not much to my kind of dancing, but it's still nice."