[ it's a very specific kind of 'you'. it's a 'you' with the kind of lilt that suggests less like it's a 'you' that belongs on a wanted poster somewhere, and more like it's a 'you' where there's a 24-volume manga backstory implied in the gaps between the letters. kaveh's fingers, which had been doing just fine rhythmically translating his natural affinity for pattern recognition and gestalt composition, suddenly jams down the down button and ruins an entire three rows. the expletive that follows is northern sumeran. but the sanguine glance that kaveh had thrown heine's way in the interim had been thoughtful, if startled.
the glance had revealed that heine didn't look as bruised as alhaitham looked. the assumption that alhaitham had his backside handed back to him, kaveh thinks, is looking more and more compelling. ]
I'm Kaveh. We're actually acquainted - or, sort of. In the kind of acquaintance that has some annoying middle person sandwiched between us. Alhaitham looked like someone tossed him down a set of stairs when he came back from having a mock bout with you. I suspect he's still sleeping it off right now. [ and, genuinely, scared the ever living shit out of kaveh, though if pressed, his defense is that he'd been on four days of no sleep, and alhaitham knows his own measure well enough to never get into bouts he doesn't directly benefit from. the bruises, then, would've been a tradeoff for something more valuable.
kaveh considers this. ] So? [ with the edge of expectant curiosity: ] Who did win?
no subject
[ it's a very specific kind of 'you'. it's a 'you' with the kind of lilt that suggests less like it's a 'you' that belongs on a wanted poster somewhere, and more like it's a 'you' where there's a 24-volume manga backstory implied in the gaps between the letters. kaveh's fingers, which had been doing just fine rhythmically translating his natural affinity for pattern recognition and gestalt composition, suddenly jams down the down button and ruins an entire three rows. the expletive that follows is northern sumeran. but the sanguine glance that kaveh had thrown heine's way in the interim had been thoughtful, if startled.
the glance had revealed that heine didn't look as bruised as alhaitham looked. the assumption that alhaitham had his backside handed back to him, kaveh thinks, is looking more and more compelling. ]
I'm Kaveh. We're actually acquainted - or, sort of. In the kind of acquaintance that has some annoying middle person sandwiched between us. Alhaitham looked like someone tossed him down a set of stairs when he came back from having a mock bout with you. I suspect he's still sleeping it off right now. [ and, genuinely, scared the ever living shit out of kaveh, though if pressed, his defense is that he'd been on four days of no sleep, and alhaitham knows his own measure well enough to never get into bouts he doesn't directly benefit from. the bruises, then, would've been a tradeoff for something more valuable.
kaveh considers this. ] So? [ with the edge of expectant curiosity: ] Who did win?