06.25.3013: Not A Child
Summary: Sophie and Anabethe have it out over the Sauveur's place in battle.
Date: 25 June 2013
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None' — please, don't leave blank!
Anabethe Flint Kadmus Michael Nitrim Sammel Sophie 

Barracks — Volkan, Imperius
At the base of the Blackspyre are several floors of barracks, training facilities, armories, and cafeterias, all built to house the defenders of House Khournas in rough comfort. Soldiers are bunked in rooms each large enough to sleep 50, with lockers and desks alongside each bed. Deep within the barracks levels, close to the training areas, are communal bathhouses, some set aside for single-sex use and others open to members of both sexes. There, the soldiers and nobles of House Khournas can soak away the aches of a hard day's labor. The corridors are all narrow enough that two soldiers could hold them against a tide, except those leading from assembly areas to great doors that open to the exterior surface of Volkan, allowing the soldiers of House Khournas to march out already in formation if need be.
June 25, 3013

It is growing towards nighttime, the sky outside maintains its eerie glow from the volcano, thick storm clouds threaten harsh weather, but that doesn't bother a single Khourni. Inside the barracks, its a different world. There is a Temporary Medical Area set up in on the main halls for easy access. Wounded knights, soldiers, and men at arms are being shuffled here and there. There is a smaller curtained off section for those who'd fought in the convoy patrol a few days past.

Having promised Viannea that he'll stay in bed and rest until she comes to see him tomorrow, Michael is being true to his word much to the glee of the medics. He's in the temporary medical area of the barracks, in a bed with the back raised up so he can write into his journal. There are a few others in similar beds all in different states of wake and sleep, health and injury. Michael has a tray of food next to him, slightly touched, despite the note on it "Eat, or I'll make you wait for that walk another week. *smileyface drawn here* -Viannea" Michael is also currently working on follow the note's order, and chewing thoughtfully on a slice of jerky.

Anabethe makes a habit of checking in on the wounded, keeping in touch with the soldiers she'll be fighting next to in the coming years. It's time for the daily trip through the infirmary, then, and she stops at a few beds, exchanging words and encouragement with the occupants. "You'll be back in the fight in no time," she assures one, grin flashing. "I've had worse in the sparring ring."

Sophie thought to visit Michael once again after being absent for…well, a day. She strides within the barracks, catching sight of Michael obviously busy writing something down. With a small smirk and a mischievous glimmer to her amber eyes, her body crouches low and she slinks towards the walls. She slips past medics and wounded soldiers, her feet hardly making a sound as they pad across the ground. Eventually, she manages to complete the distance between herself and her target, stealthily sneaking up to Michael and asking from behind, "what are you writing in there?"

At first, Sammel's visit to Volkan was as much of a trip down memory lane, returning to where he was spending time as a squire. But also knowing that there were wounded here, and probably quite a few that he fought alongside on the Ramships. And besides, his brothers have both been dropping by here, right? Stepping into the barracks now, he looks around, to see what people he knows here.

Michael starts slightly, but not enough to interrupt and cause his quill to blotch. He chuckles softly, "Hello Lady Sophie, it's been what? A day I think all together since I've seen you last?" he smiles, "I'm writing some poems about Lady Viannea, and one about Taryn." then he turns to look at Sophie, "To what do I owe the suprise?" he speak all this in an almost brotherly tone.

"Sophie Sauveur. And here I though we were going to be rescuing you," Anabethe announces with a wolfish grin as her path takes her by Michael's bed. "Hey, kid," she greets the squire with an upward tick of her chin. "That was good work the other day. And last night." Because that doesn't sound wrong, right?"

Sophie flushes at the reminder of having visited only a short time ago, "I-I…thought I would see a friendly face again. I spoke to Lorelei too. She mentioned it would be best to simply give it time…" She arches a brow, peering closer at the journal, "any poems about me, Squire Michael?" She glances up, only to catch sight of two familiar faces. She offers the both of them a wave, raising her voice loud enough to be heard yet not so loud as to hopefully annoy too many people, "hello, Young Lady Khournas. Lord Sammel. It would seem we all had the thought to visit the wounded." She flushes again when Anabethe comes closer and reminds her of her plan, "w-well, you will be pleased to hear that I have changed my mind. At least for now. If Ellie wishes to go to the Drake Mountains however, I will be right there with her." She blinks, "wait…did I tell you?"

Sammel's steps have taken him closer to Michael's bed as well, and he pauses as he's greeted. "Lady Sophie," he offers to the Sauveur. "I hope you are well?" A smile is given to Anabethe as well now, "Young Lady Khournas. I'm glad to see I can still find my way around Volkan." Nodding a bit to Michael too, he offers the man a smile. "Wounds healing well, I hope. I know how boring healing up again can be, after all."

Michael chuckles softly at Sophie, "Lorelei does have this thing about keeping a distance over time. We regularly write letters though." the he starts to flip a page back and another, both of them covered entirely in a single repeating name. If Sophie catches the name, "Viannea" it says over and over. "Ah, well it would seem just a repeat of the three I wrote for our dinner the other night." he smiles at her, then when Anabethe speaks to him he bows his head to her, "Lady Anabethe, thank you. I did what I was trained to do, and I provided my opinion like any other Ibrahm would." he smiles to her aswell. Then he nods to Sammel, "Thank you Sir, luckily a lady I very much like visited this morning and it brightened my mood considerably."

"Ellinor told me," Anabethe clarifies for Sophie, smirking slightly. "So, to be fair, it might be somewhat exaggerated. Just a little. Good to see you've come to at least some of your senses, though." She tilts her head as Sammel arrives, smile slipping crooked. "Hey there, stranger," she greets the latest arrival. "Long time no see. Finally decide to get back to a place where people really fight?"

Sophie nods her head cheerfully to Sammel, "I am inded, thank you. Though I cannot say the same for the wounded here, unfortunately." She glances to Michael and offers hopefully, "writing letters does not seem so terrible. Especially as both of you are poets, after all. I would not be surprised if writing is even preferred." She catches sight of what is written in Michael's journal, giving him an arched brow yet saying little. She chuckles lightly, though there is the smallest hint of being freaked out in her tone, "those were lovely poems, Michael…" She shakes her head quickly, looking up to reply to Anabethe's words, "Ellie told you?" She sighs softly, "I still believe my plan had some rationality to it, unlike what most wish to think. I imagine we should have at least done something. But…I have been persuaded to simply let Ellie decide…" She smirks, "though I fully intend to have the number of guards about the palace increased…"

Kadmus finds himself coming down into the barracks, navigating the halls through the assistance of his AI guide and into the room the gathering is in. He takes a moment to glance around before his face alights with a smile, "Ahh, Young Lady Khournas, they directed me down here when I arrived at Blackspyre." He says in greeting to the noblewoman, offering a slight bow of his head towards her.

"Hey, there are various kinds of real fighting," Sammel replies with a bit of a grin now, shaking his head a bit lightly. "But I figured it was time for a visit, and see how things were here, after all. And of course, that brought back memories." Another nod to Sophie, and he offers her a brief grin. "That's the nature of being wounded," he replies, before he adds, "We've all been through it, I believe." Nodding a little bit as he hears Michael's words as well, he offers the man a smile. "They say such things help too, yes. But aside from that, the best advice I can ever give anyone would be to catch up on their sleep while they can." Turning to nod at Kadmus as the man arrives, he offers him a nod and a smile.

"Sophie, you get that you're not a princess, right?" Anabethe arches a brow at the girl, leaning a shoulder against the nearest wall and crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "And you're kind of still a kid. I mean, something tells me you're not at the top of the Knight Commander's list of people to consult about palace security. Noble pursuit and all, I'm just saying you should probably set your expectations accordingly." Because Bethe is blunt like that. She arches a brow as Kadmus arrives, shifting just a bit to consider the newest arrival. "Today must be visit Volkan day. Welcome," she offers with a flash of a smile.

Sophie chuckling softly to Sammel, she nods her head, "indeed. It is a terrible thing, to be wounded and trapped in one place. I am very glad I have healed, and healed quickly from the patrol I was on…" She almost instantly frowns Anabethe's way however, replying, "I may not be a princess, but I am a daughter of one." She scowls, "I'm no longer a kid, Anabethe. I'm eighteen years old, and I could defeat you in an archery match with my eyes closed. Besides, I live in the palace, why am I not allowed to suggest the numbers of guards be increased, on hearing of potential dangers?" Almost curtly, she asks Anabethe, glancing momentarily to Kadmus, "who is this?"

Michael nods to Sophie, then notices the arching brow and glances at his journal with a suddenly deep blush. "I… um… well, when you get bored and your thoughts are a little medicine induced, you tend to just focus on one thing." he pauses and flips back to the page he'd been on, three poems written in neat hand writing. "If you'd like to hear my newest ones, I'd be happy to share them with you Lady Sophie. And yes, writing letters is nice for now, provides little opportunity for me to make Lorelei mad at me." he chuckles ruefully. Then he smiles at Sammel, "If I slept without need of medicines, or the need to promise a lady I would, then I'd agree with that." he nods slightly, "I've had a sword in me once, so I know all about hospitals… still doesn't make them any more fun." He nods to Kadmus when he arrives. "Lord Kadmus, nice to see you again."

"Indeed?" Kadmus says with a smile to Anabethe, "I've been visiting the major holdings on Imperius while the Titan's Wake is in drydock. And I could not pass up a chance to pay my respects to one of Mare Maris' strongest trade partners." he says to the Heir, "It is good to see you as well, Squire, but I see you haven't been taking those Etiquette lessons." he says with a smile, "And it is good to meet you, Lady Sophie, I am Young Lord Kadmus Volen."

"And I could break your arm before you could reach your bow," Anabethe replies equitably to Sophie with a faint smile. "Nobody cares, Soph. You're still wet behind the ears, you've got no real training on how to work with a military unit, and you don't know how to take an order. As for making suggestions, sure. Fully intending to make sure? Overreaching a bit, sweet cheeks." She wags a finger almost playfully, then looks back to the others. "Well, we're crawling with Granthams at the moment," she notes to Kadmus, a glimmer of amusement in her features. "So you may want to keep an eye out. But I believe your sister's still been in and out."

"Swords and other weapons inside you can be a bit troublesome, yes," Sammel replies, before he adds, "That's why I prefer sticking my poleaxe into the enemies instead of them sticking weapons into me. Both tends to happen every now and then, though." Offering a grin to Michael now, he adds, "But if you promised the Lady, you'll need to do as promised, right?" There's a brief pause as he listens to the talks between Anabethe and Sophie. "I'm sure he'll listen to the suggestions, then make his own decision," he offers to the part about the Knight Commander.

Michael sighs to Sophie as she speaks back to Anabethe. "Lady Sophie, what did we speak about? Talking back only proves you aren't ready." he gives her a knowing look to remind her of their conversation from the day before. He smiles to Sammel, "Indeed, I should do as I promised, and I did earlier. I've actually put myself to sleep of my own will, she has such powers over me… " he sighs softly.

Sophie glares at Anabethe, "we could go all day declaring what we might do first. Perhaps I have a vial of poison that I'd inject into you when you touch me. The point of the matter is, I am not as wet behind the ears as you think. Little more than a week past, I was involved in one of the first patrols that fought with the Hostiles. I took part in defending us from the Enemy stealing a Waygate, so you have me to thank for that. So what if I can't take an order. I don't need to." Trying her best to calm down, she distracts herself by canting her head to the side at Michael's words, "why Viannea? I thought your mind was drawn to Lorelei…" Forcing a smile upon her features, she offers, "I would be happy to hear your poems, Michael. They are very well written and spoken." She turns her attention to the newly introduced man and bows her head respectfully, "greetings, Young Lord Volen. The last time I was at Mare Maris, I was much too young to remember. Is the city as beautiful as people say? Do you have to always wear a special suit when you're there?" Her attention is once more drawn to Michael however, amber eyes fierce, "I am not the only one that talked back, Michael."

"I'd heard they were more interested in fighting in the crescent then on Niveus!" Kadmus nods, "Fear not, I won't cause any incidents while I'm here." He says with a winning smile to the woman, though his attention does shift towards the others as well, watching the exchange between the little group.

"Don't need to?" Anabethe arches a brow, pushing off the wall now and straightening from her otherwise lazy lounge. "You…to thank? Little girl, I think it's time we let some of the air out of your head," she drawls. "Excuse me, gentlemen." She manages a faint smile toward the visitors before taking a step closer to Sophie. "You were in the way in that assault. We have the other people fighting there to thank for the fact that we're not holding your damned funeral. Anyone who fights needs to know how to take an order from the people who know better than they do. So until you get that through your head, if I catch you trying to fight on Khournas soil against orders, I will strip your hide to the fullest extent of military law. Are we clear, kiddo?"

Sammel sighs as he listens to the others again now. Looking around at the various people, he grimaces for a few moments. "Took part, yes. Some more training is in order before we can let you take as much of a part again, though. Including taking orders. Because, unless you're the King, everyone has to. And I believe to get to the place where you don't have to take orders anymore, and to be able to be wise enough to give the right orders, you need to be able to take them." A brief pause, and a smile, before he adds, "That said, while you may have been a bit in the wrong place during the assault, you did what you could, I believe. Which can be so much more, with the right training, patience and… being a bit more humble about such matters."

Sophie scowls even deeper, sullen and angry. Her glaring eyes rise to stare defiantly at the taller woman when she steps closer, "as many that were involved in the battle can attest, I was -not- in the way. Ellie was exaggerating when she told you, as I am sure she did. The worst wound I got was one of those swirling metallic shafts to my thigh, and it healed in a matter of days. So no, I was never in any more danger than everyone else." She grits her teeth at the threat, shaking her head heatedly, "you can suggest, sure. But expecting the military to follow through with your demands? Overreaching a bit, 'sweet cheeks?'" She scoffs, "besides, what makes you think you know any better than I do about taking orders?" When Sammel speaks, she simply turns her furious gaze his way, letting some of her rage snap at him through her amber eyes.

Michael nods thankfully to Sammel, and returns to looking at Sophie, "I tried to warn and protect you from this, Lady Sophie. But every page learns before becoming a squire, to take orders, as I said." when she speaks again, he reaches up a hand to try and turn her head to look into her eyes. "Lady Sophie, listen to me!" he says firmly, "We spoke about this, now drop it. You are only proving you're still a child by acting like this."

Anabethe hooks a thumb toward Sammel without looking away from Sophie. "He's nicer than I am. I'll have you court marshaled." She smiles once more, showing teeth. "Which is a thing I can do, because what the fuck do you think I do with my time, play tiddly winks? I'm the Young Lady Khournas. I'm an appointed fucking Magistrate of Khournas with full rights of justice on my lands. And if you think my father is going to have more patience for your bullshit than I do, you've got another thing coming. Now. I suggest you listen to your friend and shut the fuck up before I insert your foot further physically into your mouth than it already is metaphorically."

"I think perhaps I've come visiting at a bad time…" Kadmus comments as he watches the drama, a bit of an amused look upon his face, "Perhaps I'll go visit the city a bit while thing's are sorted out here…."

It's this just something fun to walk into. Since being out on loan to Khournas, Flint has been bumbling about Volkan. And it looked like he was just in the process of coming in from a training routine, when he gets to walk into this…this. And by the tone, it's probably something that wouldn't be missed for the world. So for the moment, with a shit-eating grin he leans in the doorway, just listneing in. There's box of candy he had purchased earlier that had been saving for an after workout snack, keep the energy up and all. So while he munches away, he watches eagerly. "Oh, hot damn, I came in the best possible time." the Grantham knight muses.

Sophie shrugs off Michael's attempts to make her listen, grinding her teeth and curling her hands into small fists, "I am not a child!" She gives Anabethe another scathing glare, "you can't court marshal someone that is not a soldier." When she hears the threats and lectures and the magistrate card being played, she harshly shakes her head and all but growls out, "you try and I'll have -my- father tie your ankles to the back of a carriage and watch the horses run you through the streets."

Flint barks out laughing.

"All part of my charm, I guess," Sammel replies a bit lightly at Anabethe's words about him being nicer than she is, before he turns to calmly face Sophie and the furious gaze. Moving over to place a hand on her shoulder now, should she let him. "I'm sorry for us stating it like that. But it's the way such things are. We… or at least I, only want to see you safely through this, after all." Wincing as he hears the rest of it. "Now, now. That's not the way to go about things." Another brief pause, as he adds, "As for the not being a child, we've all been in a situation where we've had to prove it. Going about it in that way isn't the best solution, though."

"Your father is Khournas, you idiot," Anabethe rolls her eyes at Sophie. "He'll apologize for not teaching his dumbass daughter how to behave around military." As Sammel steps in, she takes a step back, apparently content to let the Valen handle tears and feelings and shit. That's so not a Khournas thing. "Also, I believe I just heard you admit you weren't a soldier," she adds, one finger flicking upward. The first finger. Not the one she'd probably prefer to use. She turns toward Flint's arrival, glancing to Kadmus as well. "Sorry. Bit of an issue that apparently no one's gotten around to addressing. Was there something specific you wanted to talk about, Lord Kadmus?"

Sophie feels a hand on her shoulder and glares heatedly at the source of such a brave touch, "safely through what? Why am I the child while Anabethe is not?" She looks to Anabethe and stamps her foot against the ground, "how dare you, Anabethe!" Flustered already, the flush that rushes through her cheeks at the realization of what she just admitted is not so easily seen, "just…j-just because I'm not a soldier doesn't mean I couldn't beat you in a fight!"

"Like I said, it was just a social call, but I expect I'll be here for a day or so further." Kadmus says with a smile flashed towards Anabethe, "And no need to apologize, I merely did not wish to intrude on your family business." He gestures a bit towards Sophie. The arrival of Flint draws his attention, as well as the barking laughter and he offers a faint nod, "Sir Jacob."

"'I'm not a child.'" Flint echoes sardonically. "So says the simpering and whining little girl. And I'm fairly she can do just that, toss you through the ways. Though, personally, I say Anabethe here drag you out by your hair." A snort before dumping small peices of multi-colored candy into his hand. "The illusions of the over-priveiliged and naive, eh?" There's a nod over at Anabethe. "Here I was coming to ask if you wanted a spar…" a pause. "Looks like you got one already going on. Though really, seems like bit of an unfair fight." A blink and a glance at Sophie. "You're a child because you're acting like one by throwing a damn temper tantrum. Grow the fuck up." the man states bluntly. A tilt of the head regiesters over towards Kadmus.

Michael sighs sadly and closes his journal. He then slips it under his blanket and just looks at Sophie. If she catches his eyes, she'll see the most extreme look of disappointment possible. "Lady Sophie, please." he then turns to look at the others, "She came to see me while I'm recovering, she's already promised me to let go of this plan. Can we let go of this topic?" he watches them all for comformation of their decisions.

"She's proven that she's able of taking the orders when needed," Sammel replies, not removing the hand at the moment. "Of course you could best her in a fight. But with her training, and experience, she'd best you in at least fifty of them." A brief pause, before he adds, "Look, I understand how you're feeling. We've all been there, even though most of us won't admit it. We all have different roles to play in this, and not all of us are the fighters." Nodding a bit to the others now.

Sophie glares angrily at Flint, about ready to steam from her anger, "who are you to speak to me like that?!" She points his way, eyes wide, "I should…s-should have you arrested!" She grits her teeth and practically squeals out, "I am not a child!!" She lets her heated gaze burn through Sammel, "b-but I can fight. Maybe not with a sword or spear or club. But I can shoot a bow and scout as well as the best of them!" She looks to Michael and nods her head, "fine, so long as Anabethe agrees to stop calling me a child, then I am all for letting her go."

"There will inevitably be a day when I'm hungover and injured enough to be beaten in a fight by someone with no training, yes," Anabethe agrees. "And you are a child because you are eighteen, stomping your feet, and refusing to listen to anything anyone says. I am not, because I have a child almost half your age who cries less. And I'm twenty-six. And a seasoned fighter. And a magistrate. And a commander. And are we seriously having this discussion?" she asks, turning around with an arch of her brow. "This isn't a debate. Gods, I'm pretty sure the last time Reena and I had this discussion was fifteen years ago."

Kadmus chuckles softly as the antics continue and he offers a smile towards Anabethe, "I'm going to go tour the city, I think, Young Lady Khournas." He says with a nod of his head, "Perhaps I'll bump into you again before I depart.." he says before he starts off through the barracks once again.

"You hear that, Anabethe? She's -gonna let you go-." Flint remarks. "You best be thanking your lucky fuckin stars she's gonna let you off easy, yeah." he adds with faux-warning, sarcastic. "In my experience, it's always the ones that claim over and over something they're not, when it's exactly the opposite. 'She doth protest too much' is the phrase, I think." There's a deep, rumbling chuckle from the Grantham, who grins wolfishly and looks and dead-eye at Sophie, daring. "I want you to try."

"I know you can do some damage with the bow," Sammel replies to Sophie now. "But do you promise, the next time you end up in a group fighting the enemy, no matter the reasons for being in the group, to stay near the back, where the bow can be more useful, and the others will have to worry a bit less about your safety?" Another brief pause, as he glances over at the others, then back to Sophie. "Maybe you're not a child. But until you've gained some more insights to a few things, you are not an adult either." Letting go of her now, he adds, "I'm sorry for having to be the one to say so." Stepping back a bit.

Michael projects his voice out, ringing clear and strong like a command over the field. "In times there are those that fighting amongst our own proves to make us stronger, yet here we stand e'nmy at our doors, and all we do is bicker. Let anger's words, fly into their flanks, and slay your would by victors." he takes a breath, "Our battle's call, our champion's cry, and all we do is scream to the fields!" he stops for a moment, his voice dropping once attention is again his, "We end this talk, nothing new nor helpful will come of it." he is firm and resolute.

Sophie presses her nails hard against her palms, amber eyes full of fury as they tilt in the direction of the Khourni heir. Rather than talk back to Anabethe however, and perhaps calming just slightly at Michael's poetic speech, she simply lets her off easy and looks to Flint, "perhaps I might put a word in for you to my sister. I am certain that will help with what you so crave." Nonetheless, crossing her arms about her chest, she leans back against the nearest wall to Michael's bed and declares to Sammel, "I have already intended to do so, Sammel. The last time I fought, there was no room to stay in the back. But I did keep as far away as I could. Any further and I would have been passing through the Waygate again." She glances only momentarily to Michael to say, "did you actually come up with that on the spot?"

The door to the barracks opens and Nitrim slips inside. Dressed in his typical, heavy cloak, he tightens the leather gloves over his fingers as he enters. Fully healed now, he's moving strong, standing tall, and is no longer burdened by the fevers that have gripped him the last week. In fact…he looks downright lively.

Anabethe turns to look at Michael, brow arching. "Am I having a stroke? The fuck was that?" She raises a hand, waving off the question, then scrubs it over her face. "Don't answer that. I'm just going to assume all of this was a hallucinogenic episode thanks to some really, really bad drugs. Grantham, Volen, Cindravale. You want drinks? I think I need a drink."

"Don't hide behind family." Flint just smiles, apparently not in the least intimidated. "That's just another point that you're not mature enough to take care of your own problems." Then, he stage-whispers: "What's what -adults- do." Shifting his weight onto the other foot, he continues to lean in the doorway. "Only children go crying to their betters. Besides, if what I know from Sir Ellinor is true, she's probably just as fed up with your shit as most people are. See, you got to learn something, girl." Another few peices of candy get tossed in. "You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake that you protray yourself as in that head of yours. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else." Another laugh. "Anabethe, you got some real winners around here. Drinks, yeah, sounds better than this. Nitrim!" he reaches over to slap the Khournas on the shoulder. In a friendly. "Wanna get a drink?"

Sammel looks about to say something else, but he goes quiet as he hears the poetry. "I think I'll have to pass on that offer of a drink for now, sadly. Need to take care of something back home. Maybe the next time I drop by, or the next time you visit Phylon?" Looking to Sophie again now, he offers her a quiet smile. "Good." And then he turns for the door again. "It was good to see you, all of you." That offered, he moves to head for the Waygate.

Michael could laugh but doesn't. "That would be what got your attention, without giving you an order Sir. We squires have fancier ways of capturing the attentions of their knights without over stepping our boundaries." he looks to Sophie, "Indeed that was on the spot, as were the ones I spoke during dinner." he smiles to Sammel, "Nice to meet you Sir."

Nitrim has entered at an unfortunate time, as the glower in Sophie's eyes have nearly faded, the harsh gaze given Anabethe's way slowly dissipating. She glares at Flint and her arms uncurl, rising from the wall and starting to stamp towards the man. She even brings a hand up towards the dagger at her belt, fingers beginning to wind around its hilt, "whether I hide behind family or not, Citizen, you should heed my warning and not draw my ire any further. I am Lady Sophie Sauveur, and I suggest you remember that."

"Fuck yes I want to get a drink." Nitrim doesn't even skip a beat as Flint's hand comes down onto his shoulder. Reaching to the inside pocket of his coat, he pulls out a cigarette case, opens it for Flint, and sparks a flame that hangs before him. Taking one of his cigarettes as the flame just hangs there, he dips the cigarette in and lights it. He glances to Flint, then gives Anabethe a quieted look as he realizes who Flint is talking to. that's when his eyes fall onto Sophie. "Aw fuck…" He slips away from Flint's arm and tries to slip his arm under the crook of Sophie's elbow to lure her away from the man. He leans in, pressing a friendly kiss softly to the girl's temple, and hopes the shock is enough to let him drag her away. "Did you all know she's part Khourni? That's where all that fire comes from." He leans in, murmuring something to her ear.

"I see one millimeter of steel and I will escort you through the Ways by the scruff of your neck, Lady Sophie Sauveur," Anabethe warns, and there's nothing laughing about it. "Lord Flint Grantham is a guest of the Blackspyre, and as such is under our protection. So go ahead and give me a reason, but you won't like what follows."

Michael sees Sophie move and in a flash of reflex, his hand flys out and catches her shoulder. "Lady Sophie, I may be injured and I may be a citizen. But even I will stop you."

Flint holds up a hand to Anabethe, smiling at her. Then he looks down at the approaching Sophie. "I've been prepared to visit the Crone for a long time, girl." There's no move for the massive two-handed bar mace on his back though. "Are you?" It's not a warning or threat, but a simple statement. A wink. "Your bravado is commendable, but stupid. And you're not fooling anyone. So put your shiv away before you hurt yourself."

Sophie feels Nitrim take one arm and Michael grab the other, though her amber eyes all but flicker with angry flames. Suddenly, she feels a stunning touch of lips against her temple. She blinks, eyes widening in bewilderment and mouth agape. She stares at Nitrim, the fury completely replaced by confusion, brows furrowing down and body stiffening in shock. She glances dully towards both Anabethe and Flint while Nitrim whispers something in her ear. It does not take much longer before her cheeks explode with pink blush, flushing a bright pink. She laughs nervously, forcing the sound from her mouth no matter the lack of emotion. The arm that Nitrim holds rises up, her fingers splaying out and halfheartedly smacking the whispering man in the face. Her hand falls down, face still burning up. She mumbles out in a soft whimper, "y-you…you pig……"

Taking the slap to the face with a little smirk, Nitrim looks over to Flint and his sister with a wink, and steps away from Sophie. He slips the cigarette into his lip and pats Sophie on the shoulder as he moves to lean against a nearby crate. "Welcome to the Crescent, Lady Sophie. Nothing's half-strength here." He motions to her knife, waving his fingers as if to say now put that away. His lips crack into a broad, shit-eating grin and a wink towards his sister. "Now, are we all about to fucking kill each other or are we breaking this one up?"

Anabethe eyes Nitrim for a moment, then scrubs a hand over her face. "I need buckets of alcohol," she declares simply, then turns on her heel and stalks out.

Flint laughs. "There was never the threat of death involved. The only thing I kill are Hostiles." he muses lightly. "Everything just gets heavily maimed. But killed? Can't learn if you're dead." Slipping aside to let Anabethe pass, he shrugs at Nitrim. "Well, we're still drinking, so come along it you want."

"I've got a few minutes before I have to be somewhere, just long enough to tie one on." Nitrim comments to Flint. He waits until Anabethe and Flint's backs are turned, then levels a quiet look towards Sophie and Michael. Taking the first steps back, his eyes remain quiet as he slowly nods to them. It's all subliminal conversation he wants them to see. He winks and gives them a wave with his cigarette.

Michael keeps his hand on Sophie's shoulder if she lets him. "I had hoped to perhaps entertain you with poetry and stories, Lady Sophie… if you're too upset though, I'll understand." then as Anabethe walks away, he calls out to her, "Lady Anabethe, perhaps when you're free next, we could spar given I've healed." he smiles after her even if she doesn't turn to look around or answer him.

Sophie glances down at her pat shoulder as though confused to what may have caused the sensation. She blinks a couple times, her cheeks still on fire. Nevertheless, she hesitantly ducks her dagger back into its scabbard. She looks to Flint and Anabethe, before reluctantly nodding her head, too shy to offer a voice to Nitrim's suggestion. She stares at Nitrim when he gives that message, before letting out a heavy sigh and glancing to Michael, "perhaps another time. I think it best if I give myself time to cool down…" A hand rises to give the one on her shoulder a gentle squeeze of quiet gratitude, until turning towards the exit and slowly making her way out as well.

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