[open] He say me have to

[strikingtwice]

CHARACTERS: Meallan and Whoever wants in
DATE: First week of Perdition's Rest
WARNINGS: Shirtless elf??
SUMMARY: Meallan got a new left arm thanks to Laedo and has decided he needs to test it out and maybe fill a bounty at the same time.


It's a little strange to Meallan to be paid to do very little, though he'd been assured that all he really needed to do was look good and stand around. He'd tried to help out a bit with the farm work as well, mostly because it felt strange to be paid to do this without doing at least some work, but he's never worked on a farm in his life and the horses here... didn't really need the same care as actual beasts.

So he'd given up and moved outside to where he could be seen more easily and decided that, well, if he's being paid to look good he may as well put some work into it. Besides, he needed to work with his new arm anyway. While Laedo had tested it thoroughly, Meallan himself was still getting used to it and a little training would likely help with that.

Staff in hand, he moved outside and stripped off his shirt, flexing the new, golden left arm and watching how the light caught it for a moment. Then the staff was passed to that hand and Meallan started to go through a series of training exercises, starting slow but building up speed and intensity until a sheen of sweat almost glints like the gold as it catches the light. He's focused enough that Meallan doesn't realise he has an audience until he turns and catches sight of them out of the corner of his eye, he pulls a strike up short then and stops, flushed from the heat and exertion and feeling a little like he's been caught showing off. Which he supposes is the point of being out here but that doesn't make him feel much better.

Coughing awkwardly, he sets the end of the staff back on the ground and gives the new arrival an uncertain smile. "Sorry, I didn't see you there. Was there something you wanted me for?"

Comments

[fateality]

"Was sort of hopin' we'd get that drink in at some point," Twisted Fate says, smiling as he does, his eyes shadowed faintly by his hat. "But it's lookin' like you're a little busy, Meallan."

Hardly bothered, the thief approaches, glancing over the elf with some curiosity and, admittedly, with certain admiration. He has already considered Meallan to be attractive, but he definitely likes what he sees here as well.

That, and one other thing of note.

"Arm looks new. Enchanted?"

[strikingtwice]

"I do owe you a drink, don't I?" he answers with a laugh. "Well after I'm done here I could probably do with one, if you'd like? I'd offer to go now, but apparently I'm working. ...somehow."

Previously the attention to his arm would have gotten more of a flinch from him, the subject a bit of a sore one, but now Meallan switches his staff to his right hand and holds the new left one out for inspection. Closer to it has faint threads of purple through it in places, and a green line darkens the palm. Where it joins to his own flesh shows signs of old scars, but otherwise they connect smoothly.

"Not enchanted itself, but it is magically made. A good friend put a lot of work into it for me." He gives Twisted Fate another smile, wide enough to show the gap between his front teeth. "I figured since I apparently only need to stand around here and try to look good, it wouldn't hurt to give it a work out as well. Having both arms again is going to take a little getting used to."

[fateality]

"I'm a patient man, so long as you don't if I watch you work, Meallan."

The reaction is subtle, but he can see the difference in the elf's demeanor. Perhaps too straight-forward, in retrospect; one doesn't simply lose his arm without some sort of trauma involved.

He keeps his smile, returning it in favor. "That's quite a gift to be given. Your friend must care a great deal to you." He holds out his hand palm up toward him.

"May I see it? If it doesn't bother you."

[strikingtwice]

"Of course not," Meallan answers immediately, welcoming the company. "Actually I'm not even working that much, so I can't see them complaining that I'm talking with someone."

His smile softens a bit at the memory of what Laedo had done for him and the tax it had taken on the askan. "I'm glad to have him as a friend, and not simply because of this. He's a good man and one I'm happy to have met."

He immediately closes the distance at the request, setting his hand in Twisted Fate's at once. "Of course you can. It doesn't bother me to have it looked at."

He likes it much better and finds it easier to handle than the stares the empty sleeve had gotten.

[fateality]

"An' what exactly is your workin' task, anyhow? Wanderin' around and catching somebody's eye?" he asks, part way in teasing and certainly flirting, as he does.

There's a pause of consideration, his head tilting as he feels the hand rest in his own. The enchantment is not one he's familiar with, but then, the magic is far different than his own. Interpreting it would not be his strong suit, as it were.

Still, he gives Meallan's hand a gentle squeeze and says, "A friend that gives that much is one to hold onto as tight as you can. Figure you probably know that, though. Glad you got one."

[strikingtwice]

"Just standing here and looking attractive, apparently." He says it with a shrug, and the slight flush is probably more obvious now he's started to cool down from the exertion more. Meallan isn't going to argue that he can do that, but it does feel a bit foolish. "I'm not sure why, but if I do it for a little longer I'll get some coin for it."

He smiles as Twisted Fate considers his hand, and it only widens at the words. "I plan to, but not because of this or anything else. I'd just like to keep him as a friend, no matter what may come."

He squeezes the other man's hand back. "And the same for you. I know you talk about not caring or just wanting to waste time and that's why you did what you did in the train, but I still don't believe it's only that."

[fateality]

"Convenient little job. You seem to be excelling at it," Twisted Fate remarks, grinning broadly. "I wouldn't question it too hard. Seems like easy enough pay, at least. Don't let me get in the way, hm?"

Ah, friends. Twisted Fate finally releases his hand. "That's a good attitude," he says carefully.

Right, that business. An easygoing shrug is delivered in return as he says smoothly, "Don't reckon it's worth thinkin' hard on, but you buy me a drink and we can have a chat about that." Not that he has any expectations for a follow up, but a drink he doesn't have to buy is easily enjoyed. "'Course, wouldn't mind getting to know you better anyway."

[strikingtwice]

The grin is matched immediately and Meallan pauses to give Twisted Fate a appraising look. "If you ask me, you're hardly going to detract from the job, Fate. Maybe make it more successful or be competition but definitely not detract."

He notes again the curious way the other man withdraws at the idea he be something other than purely out for himself, and wonders why that's such a difficult topic, why he argues against it so much.

All the more reason to offer him that drink and see what Meallan might be able to get from him, he supposes. His lips quirk into a smile again at the mention of that plan and what he's starting to realise as flirting, although he's still uncertain how earnest it really is.

"You can ask me anything you like," he offers with a wink. "I can promise I've probably heard your first question before. It's about the ears or the tattoo, isn't it?"

[fateality]

That earns a small tip of his hat, and a smile. "Those are some mighty kind words, friend. Might be tempted to join you; company's not so bad, either."

Anything, he says. The thief rubs his chin for a moment, absently scratching as his well groomed beard before he looks over Meallan curiously.

"Tattoos, maybe. Ears, little less so. I'm a little more curious about this Inquisitor rank of yours, if y'have anything you wanted to say about that."

[evantuality]

It's not that he's been avoiding Mel -- not even close. Just, after coming back to himself after an apparent week as his older self, and then reading the long letter left to him by that future self, Evan had looked to avoid most of everyone for a few days. And then that had turned into getting busy packing up, and then Perdition's Rest itself, and his days had been packed.

Hearing what had happened to the elf during that week of time displacement had been a shock, and a further shock that it had somehow been a week and then some before he had even caught wind of it. Serene and Mel had both been closed-lipped to the point that he hadn't realized anything was wrong, until Serene had come to him for advice. At that point he'd resolved to keep an eye out for the elf, to at least find him and check to see that he was recovered, that he was alright.

But it had been hearing through the grapevine something about Mel having his arm back that was the final straw. He'd picked himself up, then, and gone to find the other man.

And now he was being caught staring. In awe, certainly, but more than just that -- he had never known Mel with both of his hands, and so the sight was a strange one, the elf's proficiency hypnotic and his physique so, so sculpted that a particular delight had begun to bubble behind Evan's sternum. He's stopped on the other side of the fence at this edge of the farm, and when Mel stops and so self-consciously asks that question, it jolts him back to himself.

He trots up to the fence proper, grinning, practically beaming. That effervescence bubbles over. "You did! You got it back! Mel, congratulations!"

[strikingtwice]

Seeing Evan's face has Meallan brightening immediately, and as the younger man approaches his eyes quickly rove over Evan's face to look for signs of difference, the older look in his eyes, and he notes it's gone now. It's to be expected, but he's still not entirely certain what to think of it, so he puts it aside for now and focuses instead on Evan himself.

"I didn't exactly do much," he points out with a laugh. "Laedo did everything, and I owe him a great deal for it. It took a lot out of him as well."

Leaning his staff against the fence, Meallan extends the golden arm for inspection. Closer up, Evan might make out little threads of purple through it like veins, and a green mark across the palm.

"It moves and feels like my own," Meallan murmurs, still caught in the wonder of that feat of magic. "Even training, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference if I hadn't been so used to being without it."

[evantuality]

Evan falls to examining the prosthetic with ravenous enthusiasm. He makes an impressed noise as he takes in the exquisite attention to detail. Aside from being golden, it's completely convincing. Without thinking much about it he's compelled to touch the warm skin there, to briefly run fingers along some of the purple lines near the wrist, and then to nudge so that he turns his arm over for Evan's examination,

He glances up at Mel, finding the mark on the palm, and flashes a grin. He draws his hand back from Mel's and touches his own face, pushes his hair back on the side with the Laedo-granted eye. "Odd, isn't it? Even on my world we haven't mastered this kind of flawless prosthetic."

He looks down again, curious. "Did you get to choose what it looked like? What's the green? Or for that matter the purple?"

[strikingtwice]

As Evan examines the arm, Meallan watches him, his gaze tracing the curiosity and eagerness in the other man's face, and a faint shiver slides down his back at the gentle touch of Evan's fingers against the strange new skin.

"Laedo offered to make it look like my own skin but I didn't want that," he murmurs. "I wanted to remember what had happened, everything it meant to me, so I asked him to leave it like this and put the mark on the palm."

He gives a quiet laugh that's more grim than amused. "The Anchor was green, and the reason for everything that has happened in my life the past three or so years before coming here. In the end it was why I lost most of my arm as well but I want to remember it. For the good and the bad."

[evantuality]

Evan swaps from looking at the arm again to looking at Mel's face as the other man talks. There's curiosity in his gaze, but he considers and then finally nods at Mel's words. "That makes sense, I mean... even a perfect prosthetic wouldn't've gotten rid of the fact that it happened at all." That's something he's had to come to terms with himself, recently; he'd been so relieved to get his eye back, but it hadn't washed losing the eye from his mind. Other, less tangible marks had lingered. How much more potent would those be, having lost a <>hand, having lost it for so long?

The fence still stands between them, for Evan hasn't come onto the farmer's property. He's not here to fulfill the bounty, after all. It means he can't go in for the hug -- a habit he's been picking up well enough -- so he leans on one of the fenceposts instead. For all that Mel seems a little somber, Evan is having trouble tamping down a bright grin again. "I'm sorry I didn't come to congratulate you sooner. I only just heard."

[strikingtwice]

Meallan flexes his hand absently once Evan's released it and gives the younger man a crooked smile.

"And it shouldn't get rid of it either, don't you think?" His gaze flicks to Evan's eye as well, though he doesn't mention it outright. While he'd prefer to remember, it's possible that Evan doesn't want to as much.

"It wasn't that long ago, and you really don't need to congratulate me," he insists. "I didn't do anything."

He gets the feeling they probably won't agree on that entirely though, so Meallan shifts the topic elsewhere. "But why have you been missing lately? Is everything all right?"

[evantuality]

It may be taking a while, but Evan is beginning to get wise to some of the ways Meallan quietly avoids talking about himself. Particularly now, after finding out he's missed such important events, Evan is watchful for that deflection. He gives the elf a speculative look.

"I'm fine, I've just had my head down. I was a bit rattled after that, that time-displacement week." What else to call it? This is a little bit of a test, too, knowing Mel must have been that much more rattled. "And it's been a whirlwind here since we landed.

"Anyways," he presses back to what he'd been saying before, not quite willing to let Meallan completely divert, "whether or not you did anything to get it back isn't the point, it's just exciting that you have it again. I mean, unless it was as much fun as getting this eye in," he's able to make light months after the fact, "then I certainly count that as having done something. In any case, worth congratulations." He grins back at that gap-toothed smile.

[strikingtwice]

"It was disconcerting," Meallan agrees, choosing his words with as much care as he would footsteps around a trapped room. "I imagine everyone was thrown off to some extent by what happened."

He's more guarded now, likely obviously so, but it's a difficult topic that he doesn't wish to dwell on any more than the arm, which Evan doesn't seem as willing to drop as Meallan had hoped. It is at least the easier topic now, and he manages a dry laugh at the matter.

"Well in all fairness I don't know what it was like for you to get your eye back. But with mine it seemed like it took a lot more out of Laedo than me. I was more concerned about everything he'd put into it and if he'd pushed himself too far."

[figureitout]

If anything, Stiles was curious (a never-changing state of being, that); the mission had had its fair share of interest, at least from what he'd overheard people talking... and it was just so ridiculous, the whole thing, he had to pay witness to the spectacle.

Only it ended up being more of a spectacle than he'd anticipated -- the surprise over recognizing Meallan gave way to more surprise over seeing him train, seeing him with two arms.

He grinned back, with none of Meallan's uncertainty, and nodded towards his arm.

"Dude, that looks great! Is it working alright? I mean, it seems like it is, that looked awesome."

[strikingtwice]

Meallan's smile brightens at the sight of Stiles and he sets his staff aside and heads over to the young man, holding out his new hand as he does so.

"It works like I was born with it," he says, holding it out for Stiles to look at. The gold seems all the brighter in the light and the line of green on the palm stands out against it.

"I owe Laedo a great deal for it, it's helped me a great deal to have it back." He doesn't imagine Stiles needs much of a reminder of the time he'd been stuck and needed to rely on him for help. Something that he could have managed himself if he'd had both arms.

[figureitout]

And look at it he does -- grinning all the while, giving a low whistle, impressed with the obvious craftsmanship. He's been wondering of it ever since the caves, the possibility of somehow helping his friend out, asking Peter or even Tony about prosthetics... but he's glad to see it isn't needed.

"Yeah, I bet. So he just... made that? That's cool. I mean, really cool, I'm happy for you, man."

He glances towards the farm, inclining his head in its direction. "So... how's the job going? Making everyone nearby die of jealousy yet?"

[strikingtwice]

The smile fades a little as Meallan nods, brushing his fingers against the new arm. "He did, but I wouldn't say it was easy really. It... took a lot out of him. I owe him a debt for all he's done for me."

He gives an amused laugh at the question, shrugging loosely and stretching his arms out again. "I wouldn't know I'm afraid. I'm not even certain who I'm supposed to be seen by, so I can only hope this doesn't end up being a waste of time."

Stiles gets a curious look as well. "And what about you? What are you up too right now?"

[figureitout]

He pauses, taking in the implications — and yet, his immediate thought is it was worth it. Stiles holds it back, though, instead nodding along like he understands. And he does, he knows how it feels to owe someone a debt, to feel like they've done something for you you can never quite repay... but as before, it is easier to feel something apply to himself rather than his friend. Why shouldn't everyone help Meallan without asking for anything back?

He is saved from saying any of this out loud by his friend laughing lightly, and so Stiles grins back and shrugs.

"Hey, man, if they're paying you for just standing here and training, I'm definitely not calling that a waste of time," he says, scratching the side of his neck before continuing, "Uh... investigating? Sort of."

[strikingtwice]

"Investigating?" The Dalish elf straightens immediately at that, eyes bright with a keen interest. Stiles doesn't strike him as the type to waste time with anything he didn't think worthwhile, and honestly investigating sounds more interesting than training and feeling awkwardly on show for an unseen audience.

"What are you investigating? And have you made any progress?"

[figureitout]

"... everything?" he answers, aiming for something very solid and ending up sounding more like he's asking a question rather than responding to one.

"I mean... I heard the bandits robbed someone near here, so I figured, I'd take a look around, see if there's any clues. You know, anything they might have left behind, tracks, stuff like that."

Truth be told, he doesn't have any high hopes for that, but doing something is better than doing nothing.

[strikingtwice]

"Bandits?" Meallan's eyebrows raise at that and he turns to stare in the direction he guessed Stiles might have been headed before. "I could help with that, if you like? I'm not the best tracker in my clan, but I did used to go hunting with my brother often enough that I might be able to find something?"

He pauses then, glancing back at Stiles and wondering if he had intended to handle the task on his own or had plans to work with others already.

"That is, if you'd like some help that is, you don't need to accept if you'd prefer not to."