(no subject)

[herr_bookman]

It's a special occasion for Autor! So he's going to celebrate it by testing his homemade grenades on the practice range.

Come blow stuff up with him! Or, you know, stop him before he does some real damage.

Comments

[herr_bookman]

His eyes widen, his lungs fill with air, and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. Her pretty little spin tweaks the pain in his leg which he'd been so valiantly ignoring. Now that he's not feeling an immediate threat--ha!--every bump and bruise and abrasion flares up anew, as if she'd flogged him.

Despite all of that, he is thankful she didn't break any bones or give him any sprains. He has weak ankles, and--at the moment--weaker knees.

"We will," he says, annoyed by the fact that his voice has gone breathy, "after I secure the explosives."

Dizzy, he tugs on their hands towards the bomb bag. Regardless of whether or not she follows or releases him, it only takes a minute or so to gather the bombs and encode them in his sylladex: "She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby, thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die."*

He stands carefully, and places a hand on his hip. Tilting his chin up, he gestures to the bar. "Shall we?"


*Shakespeare, Sonnet 11

[lyricaltokarev]

She follows, letting go of his hand to allow him to collect his explosives. (She even adds the one she stole from him to the bag -- after the time and effort he put into making it, she wouldn't want to leave him without it.) She watches with no small amount of interest as he encodes everything, and uses the opportunity to return her Princess Rod to its pendant form, leaving both her hands free.

"Certainly!" she replies, bouncing a little on her toes. "Should we have cakes as well, or would the tea be enough?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor, noticing her interest, holds the sylladex out for her inspection. It looks like a simple, leather-bound journal, and on each page is a drawing of, say, feathers, or bags. "A gift," he says, and then stores the inventory system in his pocket. "A useful one."

Then he grins, sauntering--in so much as he can saunter, now--towards the bar. "Cakes sound lovely. Thank you for the invitation to tea, Your Highness."

Holding open the door, he politely inclines his head. "After you."

[lyricaltokarev]

It does look like a very useful gift -- and she'll have to keep in mind that he has it on his person.

"It's my pleasure," she says, as they approach the bar. "It's nice to have someone to share them with, don't you think?"

And then, on a whim, she reaches out to take his hand as they walk through the door.


[OOC: And yours to wrap, I think!]

[herr_bookman]

Autor manages to contain his flush as she wraps her fingers around his. "Depends," he says quietly, smiling. "So far, it has been."

He really shouldn't get used to the feel of her hand.

But cakes are nice.

[OOC: Ah, these two. Thanks for the thread!]