closed.

[frostfist]

WHO: wriothesley, various
WHAT: 2024 catchall log
WHERE: around
WHEN: march 2024 onwards
WARNINGS: n/a; will be added in thread headers

Comments

[frostfist]

[ He lets out a small breath of laughter, and then winces as the movement jiggles his bruised sides. ]

Informally like how this was informal?

[ Did he technically learn something? Yes, but could have been more efficient done in almost any other fashion? Also yes. But he did ask for this, so it's not like he can complain. ]

What weapons do you know, other than the sword? [ Her big honking sword... ]

[bemist]

Axes, my fists, spears, knives... anything either heavy enough or sharp enough that'd keep me alive at the time... [ She shrugs. ]

Killed a guy with a television once.

Training's different than sparring, though. I have to hold back at least a little there.

[frostfist]

[ ........the fuck. Hold on. ]

By throwing it at him or beating him with it?

[bemist]

Both happened, but the beating killed him.

[frostfist]

Good to know.

[ Is it? Did it really require this particular tangent? (Yes.) But back to the main topic at hand. ]

You're not wrong though. In moments of duress, just about anything can become a useful weapon. Still, I'd like to be a little more prepared than that when the next mission rolls around.

[bemist]

Which means you should probably look into deciding on a weapon now.

[ Just saying. ]

[frostfist]

Not one to mince words are you, Miss Gebura? [ But he knew that already. ] I'll give it some thought and give you a call when I decide.

[ Sorry, but she's stuck with him for now. ]

[bemist]

Got it. I'll see if I can lend a hand, if you're willing to go through hell again.

[ It's fine. She doesn't mind him. ]

[frostfist]

[ There's a tiny smile at that, wry and a little personal. ]

I've gotten pretty friendly with all different kinds of hells so...I think I'll manage somehow.

[ But anyway! Another stretch, another groan. He could really use a hot shower right about now but: ]

How about lunch after I clean off? As thanks [ for beating him up ].

[bemist]

[ Well, if he insists? She hasn't missed that smile, but she doesn't ask for further details. ]

I'm surprised. I thought you'd be begging off for a nap after that or something.

[ Sorry for the thrashing. Maybe. Maybe not sorry. ]

[frostfist]

[ The smile turns a little more real as he pats his stomach (and lets out a groan of pain). ]

That's what the food is for. [ His impending carb coma... ] So is that a yes or a no?

[bemist]

Sure. I'm not about to turn down a free meal.

[ That isn't going to be drugged or be fellow parts of human or any other concerning thing, at the very least.

... Poor Wriothesley, though. ]

Did you have a place in mind?

[frostfist]

Your choice. [ ....With one caveat. ] As long as it serves more than just spicy food.

[ Please don't beat up his taste buds after she already beat up the rest of him. ]

[bemist]

... Not too good with spice, huh. You'd have a rough time in the City.

[ But she nods; she's got his back. ]