rereading my own fic. imagine the most beautiful person you ever met brought you hot cocoa and then started getting flustered talking about how much you mean to them, and then you hit them with the "you're a good friend". good job arthur.
so like... can I just say that albrecht saying brysko's "relatives" are coming to tau is throwing me for a loop? because the operator/drifter has no (obvious) relation to brysko. and yeah he could just mean warframes, but we have no reason to think brysko has any strong attachment to other warframes - he was made by albrecht, right? a chimaera? part sentient, part warframe? that's a pretty narrow demographic, I'd assume.
what other partial warframes made by albrecht are there? who might have reason to chase albrecht to tau? I wonder.
December 22nd, 1999, 9 days until New Year's Eve (Take 2). The Hex throws a party, but Arthur's having a hard time feeling the holiday cheer. Drifter takes a chance. Someone puts up mistletoe. At least it gets everyone's mind off the end of the world.
Pre-Hex Finale, Pre-Relationship Arthur/NB Drifter.
Word Count: 2925
-------
Winter snuck up on Höllvania. November came and went in a blur of the final preparations for the end of the year, and December crept silently along the icy streets to hit them over the head with the one thing Arthur hadn't planned for:
Winter Solstice.
The Hex needed a party. They all knew that. It was Aoi's idea first, when she noticed the date a week before, but Amir and Eleanor were in near immediately, and Drifter was just happy to be invited, so Quincy agreed to come along and keep them from looking stupid, and Lettie joined in because she was promised she'd get to see people acting stupid, and Arthur wasn't going to be the asshole saying "no fun allowed".
The gift exchange was wonderful. No one was left out. Everyone seemed very, very happy with dinner, despite the pizza-based main course and the reconstituted mashed potatoes. There was laughter and joy around the table, and it was, in a lot of ways, the most human Arthur had felt since… well. Since before he stopped being human.
He had to excuse himself after dinner when he started missing a few too many questions, lost in his own head. He didn't want to bring the mood down anymore than he did just being his usual charming self.
-
Standing in the doorway of the Round Table, Arthur stared out at the mall, empty and cold. The roof was leaking again, but there wouldn't be time to fix it. New Year's Eve was in less than ten days, and Arthur couldn't stop thinking about the reactor, all that led to it. Eleanor, queen of the Rot. Lettie, casualty of her own conscience. Quincy on the roof. Aoi forcing herself past her limits. Amir, too slow to dodge a bullet. And Arthur, the fool he was, unable to save any of them. He led them all to their deaths, and the only reason it didn't stick was because of Drifter, their very own deus ex machina.
Maybe it wouldn't go that way this time. For better or worse. Entrati wouldn't get his chance to slip away, or maybe Drifter wouldn't get fist to floor in time. Maybe it wasn't going to work. Maybe Arthur had gotten his people into a no-win situation, and all he was doing was just… getting them hurt. Over and over. He wished there was more he could do. If there was just a line in the sand he could draw. And keep. He'd happily put his life down without a second thought if it got the rest of them out alive. But there'd be no such luck. He just had to hope he wasn't making a mistake. Again.
"Hey," Drifter said, coming up behind Arthur with two cups of cocoa. They had the works on top, whipped cream, shaved chocolate, peppermint stick and everything. They offered a cup to Arthur and he took it with half a smile.
"Huh. Thanks. There booze in this or just good old Solstice cheer?" he asked, taking a sniff. It was hard to make out anything beyond chocolate and peppermint.
They laughed, briefly, glancing away then back to him. Nervous? "I didn't see Eleanor spike it, but I guess it's not out of the question."
"Eleanor put you up to this?" he asked with a grimace. If she had been peeking in his head, he didn't want to talk about it. Definitely not with the reason he had another chance to fail, the deus ex machina themself.
"No, she didn't put me up to anything," they insisted. "She made cocoa for everyone, and you were the only one who wasn't right there, so I… volunteered to bring you one."
"Mm. Thanks," he said, and sipped carefully at it. It wouldn't do to burn his tongue and waste all Eleanor's hard work. "Guess I hadn't realized I'd been away that long."
They hummed thoughtfully, and Arthur watched them stir the peppermint stick around the cup. "Doing alright?" they asked.
"Eh, fine. Distracted," he deflected, looking out at the mall again. Drifter didn't seem eager to leave just yet, and Arthur found he didn't mind the company. "New Year's in a little more than a week," he said, like he was talking about the weather and not the end of the damn world. Again.
"Yeah," they agreed. They were quiet for a moment, then said, "It'll work out this time. I know it. And you're in a much better spot than you were. Techrot's under control, Scaldra hasn't choked the city. Your team is prepared. Trust them, the way they trust you."
"And what about you, Marty? You think you've got this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at them. "I heard you explaining things to Eleanor. Pulling on strands of… something?"
"Khra. Time. Fate," they explained, each word thrown out like they were eager to get it away from them. "It's, um… it's Void shit. I can explain it if you want, but… But Quincy told me to stop talking about work, it's a party," they said with a weak laugh. "Are you… leaving?"
"Nah. Just needed a minute away." Arthur took a sip of his drink in an attempt at looking as collected as he wanted them to think he was - before something occurred to him, and he turned to look their way. "Were you worried?"
"A bit. We didn't get a chance to talk until now," they pointed out, and Arthur shifted in the doorway to face them better, to see how they looked away the second he would have made eye contact. It could just be their usual brand of social anxiety, but it wasn't usually this… acute.
"Something you needed to talk about?" he asked.
"Ha. Um. Don't really need to talk about anything, I just sort of… wanted to talk. You know. Be friendly." They took a deep breath, and then laughed as they thought to add, "Assuming I know how to do that."
"You do fine. Your only fault's in your choice of who you try to be friendly with," he said wryly, and they laughed again.
"Yeah… I'm just… stubborn like that," they said, staring at their cup.
Drifter was, in every way that mattered, incredibly brave. Foolishly so, at times, facing down tanks and techrot outside their warframe without half the hesitation they should be feeling about the idea. There were other things they weren't so confident about, and Arthur didn't begrudge them that. Social interaction was a big one that they were working on, and steadily getting better at not being a deer in the headlights when someone asked a question they weren't ready for. Spiders were a much smaller issue, literally, and easily handled with a broom (or getting Eleanor to take it away peacefully with a cup and a piece of paper).
Unexpected physical touch was a concern of varying intensity - The Hex knew to never grab Drifter from behind, and never around the neck or head, but they were getting used to friendly touches around the arm or shoulder. Then there was the fact Drifter could laugh at the goriest horror flick he could think of, only to go white as a sheet if an actor took their shirt off on camera, to the point they once lost their lunch over a kissing scene. Admittedly, the guy was stabbed mid-makeout, but blood was solidly not an issue for Drifter. The sticking point was that apparently, telling someone they didn't want to see that sort of shit didn't occur to them until they were sick in an empty popcorn bucket.
All of that discomfort, save maybe the thing about spiders, was pretty easily chalked up to the life they'd lived. It would be a hard ask to expect anyone to feel right after what they'd been through, and Arthur was willing to keep things at a level they were comfortable: No sudden touching, no prolonged touching, no discussion of what bunnies do. Not that Arthur was the type to talk about those sorts of activities with a mate anyway, the idea made his skin crawl.
It wasn't anything he held against them, just sort of… background that filled in the details of their portrait in his head. Arthur knew Drifter would have his back in any fight they found him in. But he also knew Drifter was shit at saying when something was bothering them.
"Drifter," he said, and they startled - nearly crushed the paper cup in surprise before they caught themself. "You sure you don't need to talk to me about something?"
They sighed through their nose, leaning against the doorway. "Yes. I mean… Yes, I want to talk to you. Sorry. I don't really know how to do this."
"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere," he said, watching their expression flicker between frustration and dull apprehension. "What are you trying to do?"
Drifter took a deep breath to center themself, meeting his eyes as they adjusted their hands nervously around their cup. "I just wanted to say that… I know things were bad when we met, and you haven't always trusted me, but… I'm glad I met you. And the rest of the Hex, of course, but I- I just- I can't tell you what it means to me to have…"
"People in your corner?"
"Yes. Specifically… Specifically you, though. Considering how rough it was at the start, I'm grateful that you trust me. And I… felt like now might be a good time to tell you that I…" They cleared their throat, looking down again. "Sorry. Um."
Arthur restrained a groan. "Don't tell me you've been hiding something even more batshit up your sleeve all this time."
Drifter looked up at him in wide-eyed alarm, lifting a hand to ward off the thought, "No! It's not bad, I just… I feel… I feel like maybe you and I are… We're close. Right? Or… getting there?" they asked, seeming oddly desperate to get their point across.
"What's going on, Drifter?"
"I've never really… Before I met you, I never really had the feeling that I was… safe with anyone," they admitted, and the vulnerability popped Arthur's apprehension like a balloon. "And you make me feel safe. Maybe that's weird to say. I mean you did stab me when we met."
"Just the once, at least. Haven't made a habit of it," he pointed out, trying to make them smile. Safe?
"Yeah. Probably would feel much differently about you if you did." They laughed awkwardly again, then swallowed, adjusting their hands on the cup. "So, I… I don't know if you feel the same, but you mean a lot to me, and I… I'm sorry, I don't know why I can't just say it. I feel like my head's gonna explode trying to get this right."
"Can I try?" Arthur asked. Drifter's eyes widened, and they nodded. "I'm assuming you're trying to say you're glad we managed to move past me stabbing you in the hand. We've come a long way since then. And, you know, despite everything, we managed to become friends... Even though just the fact that you exist gives me a headache trying to figure it out."
Their shoulders slumped, and they scrounged up a smile for him. "... Yeah. That's… That's about it."
"I get it. I don't like talking about feelings either, but… you don't need to be this nervous with me," he said, and took their shoulder to squeeze encouragingly. "The feeling's mutual, Drifter. I'm glad you're here. You're a hell of a fighter, and with all of your future, Void, time-traveling nonsense, we actually have a chance at winning this thing. And honestly, you've done a better job of pulling the Hex back together than I did. So… thank you. Sincerely."
"Hey, you all had it in you already. I'm just... stubborn enough to poke at things," they said flatly, staring at their cup.
"Incredibly bloody stubborn to deal with our mess. We're lucky to have you." Arthur gave them a gentle, brotherly shake before he dropped his hand.
They nodded. "I'm glad you didn't feed me to the techrot when we met."
He chuckled, and the last of the tension they'd been holding fell away. "Me too. Come on. Think it's about time we got back in there, huh?"
"Yeah, might as well," they agreed, and followed him in. "So, if you still want to hear about the Strands of Khra…"
"I'll take you up on that, but later. It's Solstice. Think it'd be too cold to bundle off to the roof and look at Lua-?"
"Oi! Above!" Quincy interrupted, and Arthur stopped short and looked up.
Stapled to the support beam was a little paper decoration, green and white. Arthur had to move out from underneath it to see the shape of it.
"Oooooh, mistletoe!" Amir sang out with a shit-eating grin. "You know what that means!"
"Missile what?" Drifter asked, trying to see it for themself before looking between Arthur and Amir in abject confusion. "What? What does that mean?"
Arthur was aware of three things in that moment. One, that definitely was not in the walkway when he went out. Two, Drifter had no bloody idea what the cultural connotation of that was, so they weren't the one to do it. And three, Drifter was absolutely, incredibly uncomfortable with any kind of flirting or physical intimacy. And everyone here knew that.
"It means someone is trying to pull a bloody mean prank," Arthur said, and left Drifter to corner the table Quincy and Amir were sitting at. Lettie slipped out of her seat next to Quincy and rolled her eyes as she went back over to the bar. "Which one of you did it?"
"Taking that to our graves, boss," Quincy said, and nudged Amir with his elbow.
"Uh, yep. Pranker's code. Never gonna squeal to the likes of you," Amir agreed.
"Fine. Both of you. Two laps. Now." Amir scoffed and rolled his eyes, but Arthur jabbed a finger at him. "My pace, Beckett. Come on," he said, and led them out of the bar.
"I… Wait, what's…?" Drifter turned to watch them leave, still horribly confused.
Amir called it torture to move so slow, but Quincy wasn't complaining at all. Arthur wasn't sure if that meant he definitely did do it and was accepting the punishment gracefully, or if he was so committed to taking the fall for someone else that he wouldn't even argue it. Quincy wouldn't risk himself for nothing though, so it probably wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, in any case.
Maybe it was an overreaction. It was Solstice, Arthur didn't have to be the hardass boss. But having someone do something so careless after Drifter said they felt safe around Arthur, he just… He wanted to keep them feeling safe.
Gods, if he could just keep them feeling safe, at least he'd know he was doing something right.
"So, you punishing yourself, too, bossman?" Quincy asked after the first lap.
Arthur scoffed, knocked out of his thoughts. "I'm keeping an eye on you. No honor system on this one."
"Sure, sure, wouldn't want us cheating on your stupid boot camp discipline," the sniper said.
"If this was boot, you'd be in full gear for this. Just needed you to get a chance to think about your choices."
Amir groaned, turning around to jog backwards for a moment. "I'm rethinking my choice to swear by the Pranker's code, if that's what you mean. Really should have read the fine print on that thing, but they wrote it in disappearing ink."
"If it discourages tricks like that, I did my job."
"Since when are you no fun?" Amir pouted.
Quincy laughed sharply. "You serious? His Maj doesn't know the word."
"I can be fun," Arthur protested, and slowed to a walk as they reached the walk up to the pub. "I would have laughed with you if it was anyone else, but you do not do that shit to Drifter. You understand? That is completely beyond the realm of harmless pranking and straight into harassment."
"It's really not that big a deal," Quincy said.
"You know how uncomfortable they are about that kind of thing. Yes, it is a big deal. What was your plan? Taunt them into doing something that would give them a bloody panic attack?"
"No one was trying to give them a panic attack," Amir insisted, lifting his brows in surprise behind his glasses. "Seriously, it was just supposed to be a laugh and move on… Probably. Still can't pin it on us."
"Fine." Arthur growled. "Never again, you hear me?"
"Someone's protective," Quincy scoffed. "Miffed you didn't get to snog them?"
"Furthest thing from my mind," Arthur said dryly, and waved them back towards the Round Table. "Go on, then. Solstice isn't over. Drink and be merry."
It didn't take long for Aoi to get the energy back into the party after the boys' grumbling return. They ended up starting a game of Lonestar Hold'em with the new poker set Amir got, new drinks were poured, and there seemed to be no hard feelings.
Someone probably told Drifter what the mistletoe meant though, because they had a hard time looking Arthur in the eye the rest of the night. It would sort itself out eventually, he just needed to show them he wasn't interested in doing anything like that with them.
He wouldn't want to do anything to make them feel unsafe.
okay thinking about it there's a lot of potential in transference being brysko's first chance to have someone Hear Him. could be emotional and kind of vulnerable... or it could be Fucking Hilarious with non-genre-savvy drifter constantly interrupting his monologues with "what does that metaphor mean. why are you being so dramatic. who are you talking to."
ngl. i'm gonna be a level of normal never before seen about brysko. okay so he's a sentient warframe? and he's a noir detective always monologuing in his head? without a voice? and he's a robot- i mean a warframe? and he's a scrapper who gets beat up a lot? and he's got a smoking (?) habit? and he's a robot?
what should i clean up and post next while i'm stuck in bed with a migraine (summaries below)
actual first chapter of the arthur/drifter longfic
pre-relationship arthur/drifter stuck in höllvania after curfew
drifter fumbles arthur at the winter solstice party
Voting ended onJul 7
actual first chapter of the arthur/drifter longfic: i need to clean up the intro a lot and also figure out how to structure a chapter but i have most of this done. it's the morning of January 1st, 1999 and the hex have some questions for marty. if i can get this posted i might actually start posting the rest of it (eventually) (no promises). ALSO i have to think of a title. fuck.
pre-relationship arthur/drifter stuck in höllvania after curfew: basically what it sounds like. they overdo it on a scaldra exterminate mission, arthur gets hurt, they can't get back to where they parked their bikes and get out of scaldra-controlled territory before the streets get locked down for the night (it's a city under martial law during a plague, scaldra's gotta be restricting movement anywhere they can). arthur and drifter huddle up in an abandoned apartment and argue over the one bed who takes watch by the window, there's a bit of drifter being a traumatized wreck about where they feel safe enough to sleep. no real romantic undertones, but a bit of drifter character development.
drifter fumbles arthur at the winter solstice party: before the hex finale. new year's eve is in a little more than a week, and the hex + drifter have a little party in the round table while they can. spirits are high, and drifter takes a chance and fails. horribly. solidly turned down without arthur even realizing what they're saying. there's an incident involving mistletoe. no survivors.
you have a migraine, turn off your phone and sleep: i've got my screen brightness down to 0% and i'm only nauseous if I look toward the window. i need my enrichment. :(
poll tied, so I'm working on the solstice fic (like 80% to where I want it to be, probably be done tonight or tomorrow), but I've got the curfew fic (~50%) laid out to work on next. thanks to all who voted :)
what should i clean up and post next while i'm stuck in bed with a migraine (summaries below)
actual first chapter of the arthur/drifter longfic
pre-relationship arthur/drifter stuck in höllvania after curfew
drifter fumbles arthur at the winter solstice party
Voting ended onJul 7
actual first chapter of the arthur/drifter longfic: i need to clean up the intro a lot and also figure out how to structure a chapter but i have most of this done. it's the morning of January 1st, 1999 and the hex have some questions for marty. if i can get this posted i might actually start posting the rest of it (eventually) (no promises). ALSO i have to think of a title. fuck.
pre-relationship arthur/drifter stuck in höllvania after curfew: basically what it sounds like. they overdo it on a scaldra exterminate mission, arthur gets hurt, they can't get back to where they parked their bikes and get out of scaldra-controlled territory before the streets get locked down for the night (it's a city under martial law during a plague, scaldra's gotta be restricting movement anywhere they can). arthur and drifter huddle up in an abandoned apartment and argue over the one bed who takes watch by the window, there's a bit of drifter being a traumatized wreck about where they feel safe enough to sleep. no real romantic undertones, but a bit of drifter character development.
drifter fumbles arthur at the winter solstice party: before the hex finale. new year's eve is in a little more than a week, and the hex + drifter have a little party in the round table while they can. spirits are high, and drifter takes a chance and fails. horribly. solidly turned down without arthur even realizing what they're saying. there's an incident involving mistletoe. no survivors.
you have a migraine, turn off your phone and sleep: i've got my screen brightness down to 0% and i'm only nauseous if I look toward the window. i need my enrichment. :(
i'm curious. do people imagine their drifter having a unique KIM handle?
I personally just have my drifter using "drifter", bc I imagine when amir was helping them set up their profile, he said to set their display name to a nickname and they went "oh drifter's basically a nickname" and went for it. maybe later on they decide to change it to something more personal but idk.
if your drifter (and/or operator!) has a unique KIM handle, I want to know! comment or reblog pleeease I wanna hear about other people's characters
I enjoy thinking that, as dear Arthur was her first love, it was sort of...tumultuous for her. Moody, maybe. A nightmare for those around them, perhaps.
But Marie was just instant adoration for the most beautiful-est, cleverest, wisest Nun in the Origin System.
i do love drifter, but operator saying "I can't do this. I don't want to do this!" in old peace shot me dead and i have never recovered. show me a traumatized kid who can't slow down or they'll break and I am already signing the adoption papers
yeah yeah drifter had a sad life in the circus, whatever, but everything the operator has going on is so much chewier. or equally chewy? idk but I've been chewing on this for a while.
forgot they were a person for a few (hundred) years and considered themself as just the will that guided their weapons - maybe for a while they thought they were the weapons. not worried about their own safety, just the completion of the mission, to the point where they will forcibly fling their little unprotected body through their enemies to make a path for their warframe. following the lotus (or natah, or margulis) without question because she's the closest thing to a stable figure in their life and they need a handler because they're like twelve and trying to do this on their own feels impossible. a weapon needs someone to wield it.
and people around them treat them like a child - until they need someone who can slaughter the way the tenno are uniquely qualified for. they get all the disrespect of being young and none of the protection. the one time they begged to stop they were told (by their own subconscious?) "no, you have to keep going," and so they kept going. they keep going.
and to be clear, no shade is meant to drifter. it was a very sad life in a very fucked up circus. but they've gotten a chance to talk through their trauma with people who care about them, and the operator is going in the "relive your trauma 12 minute speedrun" torment nexus on a regular basis because the person they trust most says it's necessary.
the operator needs a long vacation and a few hundred hours of therapy, and not the memory-diving trauma-based exposure therapy they're currently getting.
(don't need to read it to understand this, just if you're curious)
--
Salem
I asked what Drifter's name was, and then got so sad I didn't ask anything else.
Broadsword
Yeah. They're good at that.
Broadsword
What did they say?
Salem
They don't remember.
Broadsword
What? How?
Salem
They forgot it after a few hundred years, they said.
Salem
I caught a glimpse of what that was like for them. Lua wept.
Salem
It wasn't even a fraction of all they went through but I could feel it, someone ripping my self away until I was just another doll in the puppet show. Bloody miserable.
Broadsword:
Sorry you had to see that.
Salem
That's what they said too, like it was their fault they've had such a sorry life.
Salem
Ugh. I think I want to give them a hot cocoa and a hug. Do we still have cocoa?
Broadsword:
We do. I'll start some milk on the stove for you.
Broadsword has gone offline.
You work fast, Eleanor said, leaving her surface level awareness of his thoughts out of the conversation, as usual. He didn't need to know the things she caught without meaning to.
-
By the time Eleanor made her way to the kitchen, Arthur had already reconstituted some milk powder in a saucepan, the tin of cocoa sitting ready on the counter. She knew he knew when she arrived - his sense of hearing was better now, but he'd always had a sense for when his sister was around. Eleanor made jokes about twin telepathy when they were young, but he'd made a big fuss about it being nonsense. Amusing, the way life works out sometimes.
"Figured you would want to catch Drifter before they slipped off to deal with another problem," he said casually, still carefully stirring the pot. Arthur spent a lot of time sitting at the bank of monitors in the security office, and he'd watched Drifter slip in and out of the mall more than Eleanor had realized. "I swear they're finding more things to do than we do."
Knowing Arthur, Eleanor expected that to be a point of distrust. It still felt unreal that Drifter was here to help, but... He couldn't argue with the results.
I hope you're not going to start competing with them, Eleanor said in amusement. That was the last thing they needed right now, Arthur and Drifter keeping score on techrot culls.
Arthur scoffed. "Aoi and Amir have that covered with their pizza night bets. Drifter doesn't know what to do with that, I think. They've just been… focused."
Arthur's primary association with the Drifter was still the moment they met. Eleanor relived it, seeing the devil in the ugly poncho be stabbed through the hand, then look prepared to rip themself free the hard way so they could go on biting ankles, or whatever it was they were going to do. That was the part of their character that stuck for him. The wolf gnawing off its leg to escape the snare. Self-destructive determination. He thought they were going to get themself killed, trying to survive.
"Milk's hot," Arthur said, looking to Eleanor.
Thanks, Arthur.
He wasn't expecting thanks. "No problem. It's at least partially my fault you had that conversation anyway, so…" he shrugged.
In Arthur's eyes, the Drifter was an unnamed mystery, clawing their way out of misery and into trouble with all the tenacity of an exotic big cat released from a snake oil salesman's two-car garage - with similarly terrible repercussions for the native wildlife. Arthur needed to name it, understand it, be sure it wasn't going to be a danger to him and his.
He felt very sad to see a wounded animal like that, but he wasn't putting down the bear gun until it limped away.
I was curious too, Eleanor pointed out, and took out the stack of paper takeout cups from the cabinet. Should I make this a joint apology?
Arthur huffed and shook his head at the pot, which he hadn't looked away from since she walked in. Eleanor didn't need to be a mind-reader to know when her little brother was feeling self-conscious. "Nah. No reason to. But, um. Sorry. To you. For not asking them myself."
I would have eventually anyway, she pointed out. She wrote out three names across the cups. Arthur, Eleanor, Drifter. Shame that there wasn't a better name for the third. I think I like them. Pleasant conversation, when I don't accidentally trigger any strong memories of Duviri.
Duviri. Arthur still didn't know what to make of it. The spirals, the death, the Void. He couldn't wrap his head around it all. "It's hard to believe they're telling the truth about that."
It's the truth. A spoonful of cocoa powder went into each of the cups, and then a packet of sugar. There's so much more they're not telling though, only because there's so much of it. I don't know how they stand it.
He hesitated, concern pouring off of him in waves before he turned to look at Eleanor. "You'll… tell me if there's anything to worry about. Right?"
Are you worried about them? Or about us?
There, that flash of the snarl when they were threatened. How dead-eyed they looked, staring at their coffee on New Year's morning. The answer was yes. "I just need to know they're not a problem."
Not to worry, brother. Your early warning detection system is on the case - assuming I survive the year, mind intact. He flinched, immediately regretting asking. It was a little mean of her, she could admit that, but he could use the reminder that she was more than a tactical advantage sometimes. She moved on before he could apologize, nudging him aside so she could pour the milk into the cups. We don't have peppermint, do we?
He laughed through his nose, still feeling like a tit, but able to soldier on. "If you want to crush up some breath mints, we do."
Eleanor rolled her eyes. She would have laughed, if she could. I'll pass, but you're welcome to it.
She finished mixing up the drinks and slid Arthur's his way. Again, he hadn't expected that bare minimum show of gratitude, but this time he knew he should have. His older sister had always taken care of him.
And if his older sister didn't get away before he started thinking about the good old days, before the tongue-shaving and the mind-reading and the end of the bloody world, she'd start bawling like a baby.
She started heading for the door, a takeout cup in either hand as she started pulling the fronds of her awareness out of the room to scan the mall for Drifter.
Broadsword
Well, I figure it's probably not Drifter, and you probably would have caught it in their head when Aoi asked about it.
Salem
Their first reaction was Drifter. If it's not their real name, it's close enough.
Salem
We're not exactly filling out any paperwork for the new hire, so I don't think we need their legal name. Is this just curiosity?
Broadsword
Basically. Was wondering if they were hiding it. No one calls themself Drifter for a happy reason.
Salem
Worried we've got Entrati Jr. on our hands chasing after dear old Dad?
Broadsword
Heh. No. Just curious.
Salem
So why don't you ask them?
Broadsword
It's awkward.
Salem
I know. I'm dying to ask, too.
Salem
So intriguing, a nameless drifter from the future with powers beyond comprehension, deigning to bless us with their no-strings-attached assistance for no apparent reason other than they want us to succeed.
Salem
Who are they?
Salem
WHAT are they?
Salem
Why are we special?
Salem
Are they into mute monsters with long tongues?
Broadsword
I am NOT engaging with that.
Broadsword
If you want to ask them any of those questions, only let me know the answers to the first three.
Salem
I could ask if they're into grim soldier boys with big swords.
