Generous, hm? Haha, I wouldn't flatter myself that far! I am repaying you for your time, after all.
[ it's almost a relief when he turns away from the intensity of that diamond stare to order the drinks, a pressure lifting as if he's been staring at the sun for too long. he takes advantage of the momentary break to collect himself again, trying to slow the thunder of his heart and the rush of adrenaline in his veins. it's just another mark, he tells himself. forget the starry eyes, forget the voice heralding from a distant memory, forget the fact that this thing wears the face of a person he'd long thought dead or lost to the horrors of the celestial curse - this is no different from interrogating an abyss mage or charming information from a hoarder. significantly more dangerous, perhaps, but since when has he ever shied away from that?
he's nearly managed to convince himself that he's got this under control by the time the drinks arrive, smile firmly affixed in place as he slides a glass over - only to falter when he sees the coin shining in the strange man's open palm. slowly, he reaches out to wrap his fingers around it, distantly noting how their hands were nearly the same size now.
it hadn't always been that way. the last time kaeya had slid his hand into that black-clad palm it had completely dwarfed his own, as the twilight sword knelt to swear his loyalty to the youngest member of the royal line. funny, all the things that change with time...for one of them, at any rate.
he withdraws his hand as quickly as if burned, running his thumb over the coin before flicking it up into the air. again and again, the coin spinning as it goes, flashing too quickly for anyone to tell which side it lands. heads or tails, truth or lies, the past or present - all those decisions left up in the air, or so he'd like to pretend. ]
Well, your name would be a good start. I can hardly keep calling you mister man of mystery, after all!
[ he knows the name of course; it sits heavy on the tip of his tongue, burns down his throat as he swallows it back. but he won't say it, not yet - naming the man in front of him would make him real, realer than all the abyss mages and hilichurls and monstrous remnants he's learned to divorce himself from. besides, maybe he's mistaken. maybe his memories have been fogged by time. or maybe the abyss has stolen away this man's identity as well. ]
no subject
[ it's almost a relief when he turns away from the intensity of that diamond stare to order the drinks, a pressure lifting as if he's been staring at the sun for too long. he takes advantage of the momentary break to collect himself again, trying to slow the thunder of his heart and the rush of adrenaline in his veins. it's just another mark, he tells himself. forget the starry eyes, forget the voice heralding from a distant memory, forget the fact that this thing wears the face of a person he'd long thought dead or lost to the horrors of the celestial curse - this is no different from interrogating an abyss mage or charming information from a hoarder. significantly more dangerous, perhaps, but since when has he ever shied away from that?
he's nearly managed to convince himself that he's got this under control by the time the drinks arrive, smile firmly affixed in place as he slides a glass over - only to falter when he sees the coin shining in the strange man's open palm. slowly, he reaches out to wrap his fingers around it, distantly noting how their hands were nearly the same size now.
it hadn't always been that way. the last time kaeya had slid his hand into that black-clad palm it had completely dwarfed his own, as the twilight sword knelt to swear his loyalty to the youngest member of the royal line. funny, all the things that change with time...for one of them, at any rate.
he withdraws his hand as quickly as if burned, running his thumb over the coin before flicking it up into the air. again and again, the coin spinning as it goes, flashing too quickly for anyone to tell which side it lands. heads or tails, truth or lies, the past or present - all those decisions left up in the air, or so he'd like to pretend. ]
Well, your name would be a good start. I can hardly keep calling you mister man of mystery, after all!
[ he knows the name of course; it sits heavy on the tip of his tongue, burns down his throat as he swallows it back. but he won't say it, not yet - naming the man in front of him would make him real, realer than all the abyss mages and hilichurls and monstrous remnants he's learned to divorce himself from. besides, maybe he's mistaken. maybe his memories have been fogged by time. or maybe the abyss has stolen away this man's identity as well. ]