Week four

[letsplayamod]

Two more of your fellow gods, your companions, your friends, have met their end together. As you turn in for the night, and a new week dawns upon you, it's starting to be a bitter experience. Just how much of this will you be forced to take?

But all isn't just despair. The morning is brighter than the last. The storm clouds that previously plagued almost every day have dissipated, and this week brings plenty of sun and a friendlier breeze. Not to mention, another floor of this strange temple has revealed itself. Whatever lies within is your domain, not Typhon's. Keep it tight in your grasp, because you never know when you'll lose it.

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Quark's Bar

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[stringup]

So why do you get to be called a coward but not them?

[markofnobility]

Because I already knew and understood my possble fate! Dying for the crown is a duty every noble must be prepared for!

[ something his father and his peers very clearly did not believe. But Ferdinand was better. HAD to be better]

[stringup]

[ ...This is a dangerous thing for her to say, she realises, but she also means it. And she sincerely finds herself hating what she's hearing. ]

Then I'll be selfish and say I'm glad you took Athena's offer.

[markofnobility]

[ that strikes him silent. Eyes too wide... and slowly filling up with tears. Saints, how pathetic, his inner critic sighs, that all it takes to crumble his ideals is someone wanting him to exist. Not for his blood or his skill. Just... him.

He can't help but be so happy]

Ha... and you still wonder why my feelings have kindled like they have, saying such a thing?

[stringup]

[ Oh. This is the second time she's made him cry and it doesn't make her want to internal scream any less. Did she fuck it up this time? Has the moment she inevitable ruins things arrived?

But no, it hasn't, from what he says right after. ]

...You shouldn't be so happy to hear this from a deathknight.

[ Still, there's no real muster behind her words. She fishes around in one of her sleeves before pulling out a handkerchief and holding it out to him. ]

[markofnobility]

[ he takes the offering and wipes his face rather daintily- he's still Ferdinand after all.]

But I am happy to hear it from Velvet.

[stringup]

[ Of course. Never change, Ferdinand. ]

Don't think I'm any less mad about you saying that shit.

[ You know, even though her cheeks are flushing a tad. ]

[markofnobility]

[He offers the handkerchief back once his eyes mostly stop leaking]

I will have to accept your ire then.

[stringup]

[ Once she tucks the handkerchief away, she reaches to take the bouquet of white roses she got from the cornucopia and holds them out to Ferdinand wordlessly. ]

[markofnobility]

[He sputters, turning bright pink as he accepts them]

You... have a funny way of showing your anger, my dear.

[stringup]

What, would you rather I change it?

[ He just called her "my dear", what the fuck what the heck how is she supposed to respond to that??? ]

[markofnobility]

[ he presses his face into the blooms, taking a deep scent of them. They smell shockingly fresh]

No, not at all.

[stringup]

...Good.

[ And while she's trying to act like it's no big deal, the way her face is still bright red probably says otherwise. ]

[markofnobility]

[He peeks up from the petals, eyes smiling]

Though... considering you returned a priceless artifact, you should be the one being given reward, not I.

[stringup]

That was entirely by accident, though.

[ She will not entertain any ideas about that reward she will not entertained any ideas about that reward she will not entertain any idea—]

[markofnobility]

Hmm... are you sure? Because I would be honor-bound to accept any request.

[stringup]

Th-that feels too much like taking advantage of you!

[markofnobility]

[He plucks one of the flowers from the bundle, twirling it a bit]

Oh, I would not say so. You know Ferdinand von Aegir never does something he does not want to.

[stringup]

[ She's starting to steam alive, let her live Ferdinand. ]

I-I...w-well...

[ She seems to run through several possible answer and seemingly discards them until she finally settles on one. ]

Can we hold hands?

[ Look. She's never dared to dream about someone courting her and she's afraid to ask for too much. Even this feels like she's setting herself up for disappointment. ]

[markofnobility]

[He's a little pink himself still, so she's not the only one dying a bit. He places the bouquet on the podium, the single stem still in hand. After a moment's though he snaps it shorter and tucks it in his ponytail. A lady gave him a token, after all. Only proper to wear it.

Then the gloves come off and he offers his bare hand to her]

[stringup]

[ Well, she asked for it and now she's getting it. She watches him go through those motions, while a part of her is already saying she should turn back right now. Her hands are cold, he won't like it at all, this is how she's going to fuck this up—

But in the end, Velvet does reach to take his hand. It's rather cold to the touch; not quite like a corpse, but colder than most people's. ]

[markofnobility]

[Meanwhile his own are quite warm. He tends to run hot and wears gloves most of the time, so it's not surprising. Honestly how does he manage so many layers all the time?? Madness. He notices the cold and runs his thumb over her knuckles, as if to warm the skin]

[stringup]

[ Oh, he's...holding her hand back. He's even being affectionate about it. There's a noticeable shiver, not because Velvet finds it unpleasant, but because it's so alien an experience to her that she can't help it. It's been so long since someone's held her hand.

After a moment, she gently hooks her fingers, as if to quietly ask if it's okay to lace their fingers together.]

[markofnobility]

[His eyes almost sparkle, and he spreads his fingers for her to slot right through. His hands are rougher than a noble's should be: thick callous on his inner thumb and the palm fat of his pinky where his lances rub, a slightly smoother texture on the back under his knuckles that suggest a long healed and mostly faded burn. Countless tiny knicks and cuts. Nails trimmed and clean, though maybe a bit of chewed hangnail on a few hinting at frayed nerves in the night when his gauntlets aren't there to block his teeth.]

[stringup]

[ Velvet isn't exactly surprised, based on what she's gleaned about Ferdinand and his interests. Her own hand is calloused, in the way of hands that have done a lot of work over the years, yet have remained unblemished otherwise, apparently.

(Seeing the way he just lit up makes it worth, a tiny part of her feels.) ]

...Are you the nervous biter type?