Ugly Duckling [Florian]

[Eitan Angevin]

"Who ordered another shot?" he asked with mock dismay, then immediately smiled. If his new crewman was going to get sloppy on his first day of shore leave after his first encounter with mageborn traitors, he would make sure he got home safely.

"I suppose I am living the dream, though I wouldn't say I am content. I don't know yet whether my father will broker a marriage for me, or, if I have children, whether they will be considered true Angevins or some cadet branch through no fault of my own." He shrugged. "I would like to be an Admiral one day. Or execute the last mage and then take myself out, protecting Zaichaer from the curse of runic magic." He shrugged again.

"I don't really separate myself from the State, I suppose. Serving the State is serving myself. I'm a true believer." Dark eyes shifted to Albrecht as he swallowed another mouthful of beer. "Someone has to protect the people. It might as well be me.

"Oh, and to answer your earlier question... I drank more with crewmates on my last ship as I wasn't XO there. I've only been XO of the Noble Gambit for a couple of months. The captain has had drinks with me in the officer's club. Once with the bosun and a couple of others. Being a leader can be isolating... the responsibility of it all. I welcome it, but..." He blinked, took another sip of beer, and peered at Albrecht. Honest things were slipping out. Not that he wasn't honest, but things he would have just kept unsaid. But Albrecht was likely not to even remember the conversation if he kept drinking like he was.

"But you... as I said, we are going to be a bit of a two-man team both within the crew and without. I'm the leash that lets the Order and the Corps trust you with your inborn power. I would like us to be friendly, and I must say the whole experience has been more pleasant than I expected. I thought I was going to have to... I don't know, break you. But you seem to want to be a good airman, do your job. That makes it much easier for me. To be your XO and, I suppose, something like a friend..."

[Florian]

Florian stopped ordering drinks (for the time being). He wasn't at his worst, but he also didn't want to end up making a fool of himself. He glanced at the window and the sky had begun to slowly darken outside, and then his gaze returned to Angevin. What a strange person to have such delicate features.

"I suppose that's true. I wasn't sure how this all was going to turn out. I don't always want to cause trouble, you know. But being on that ship is so...anxiety inducing. I feel like I don't know what to do, what I can do, what's allowed." He shrugged. "I'll get used to it. I just have to follow orders, anyway." Florian was quiet for a moment as his mind drifted through the conversation they'd had since arriving.

"I don't think I'll get married or have children, myself. It's a rather complicated scenario." He smiled and ran a hand through his somehow permanently messy hair, looking straight ahead for a moment. He looked back at Angevin, the smile still on his face. "Heavy may be the head that wears the slightly-smaller crown, but I can relate to your isolation, sir." His hand appeared on Angevin's shoulder, and his face was close. He was clearly intoxicated.

"I can't imagine you have many friends, either. You're split between worlds. No one likes the man split between worlds." Florian pulled away, both hand and face. "But that's okay. Nothing will be like this forever. You've found your place. I'll find mine eventually. Whether we've found friends along the way or not. But then again, if the State isn't separate from you, maybe you don't care."

He picks up his practically empty cup of beer and tilts it back, drinking the very last few drops. It's placed on the counter with a thunk. "I can't say that I'd have any intention of making it hard for someone who wants to help me to, you know, help me. But I want to do my job, too."

Florian was still smiling, like he'd started to tell a joke and he was waiting to drop the punchline. A second later, his face was neutral and he was inspecting his nails. His hands were small, with long, thin fingers and neatly trimmed nails. He scratched at his cheek and then the smile was back. "Speaking of heavy, I couldn't keep my head held up straight for a week after my horn broke. You have no idea how hard it is to keep my head balanced like this."

[Eitan Angevin]

"For what it's worth, you haven't caused much trouble aboard the ship," he said. "There are plenty of officers of higher rank than you who will tell you want to do, and we do have a duty roster. But that should all feel more natural once you are used to it. When all that feels banal, you might get sloppy, make mistakes, and be punished to remind you that the schedules and duties keep us all safe." He smirked. "But once you have made the schedule your own, you will be more prepared for the things life throws at us that requires us to improvise on the fly... Like those fucking mage-lovers crashing our bonfire party."

He scowled for a moment, but that was in part because he had finished his beer. He flagged down the bartender for another, eyebrow raised to see whether Albrecht wanted another. Regardless, Angevin was having one.

"Probably for the best," he said of not having children. He hadn't enjoyed being one, and he didn't know whether he ought to be having any. Would three-quarters of human blood protect his children from ignominy or would it still come for them generations down the line when the Dratori stain was barely present? And Lysanrin, well; that was a whole other can of worms.

"Oh, I have a— All right, those I call friends are perhaps not what you might qualify as friends. One I grew up with. Our families had business together, but that led to tensions as much as throwing us together. We are friendly again, though, now as adults. His elder brother isn't as much a tosser as I thought. Might even marry my favorite half-sister, and then they would be in-laws of mine. Work colleagues with whom I could share a drink. Never know which ones are angling for prestige by association, though." He glanced at Albrecht, happy for an audience that actually seemed to want to be there. "Nothing is pure, I suppose."

Perhaps that was why he sought the purity of patriotism—something he could believe in and strive for.

"Are they that heavy?" he asked, hand coming up to touch the rough-hewn edge of his broken horn. When he realized what he was doing, he pulled his hand away. "Sorry. Beer." And then his beer arrived and he was distracted again.

[Florian]

If Angevin was having another beer, Florian figured it couldn't do too much harm to have another with him. He didn't flinch when his horn was touched, perhaps just intoxicated enough to not care. He did stare at him, though, watching his face, even when he'd pulled away and stared into his beer. "My bloodline seems to be blessed with an overabundance of horn." Florian sips his own beer with a smile on his face, as if he said a funny joke. Maybe he did.

"They're not quite the same for everyone, though. Mine curve out a bit, but my mother's go straight back." His hand not holding the beer was animated, gesturing the shape of the horns in the air. "Some have horns that curl around their ears, like a ram. Some have small horns that jut from their brow." Florian was on a tangent of Lysanrin biology it seemed, 'til his eyes drifted back to the window and he saw how dark it'd gotten.

"It's getting late. How long do you want to stay here? You still have to get home, yeah?" Florian wasn't quite slurring his words, but they were starting to mix together. "But hey—" The bartender was near, and Florian cut his words short to order two more shots, 'the last ones before we leave'. Whether Angevin would opt to drink the last one didn't matter to the willowy Ashborne - he'd just drink both.

"What was I saaaaying?" He placed his hand on Angevin's shoulder again. "Angevin. What's your name again? Your first name? It was..." He paused. "I'll just stick to Angevin. Maybe we should go home."

The shots arrived. "After these." He downed the shot with the hand that had just been on his shoulder and held the spare out for the XO to take with the other. If he doesn't take it, he would just drink that one, too. He found those a fitting end to his drinking.

Florian stood up, wobbled a bit, caught himself, and then turned to Eitan. He could feel the drinks rushing to his head, and blinked a bit of dizziness from his eyes. "How far is it to your...whatever you live at, anyway? Pretty far, I imagine." He held up a finger. "I'm pretty sure I can make it home if you've gotta get going."

[Eitan Angevin]

"An overabundance of horn," he said, grinning at something amusing in his head. "That's funny." But he didn't otherwise interrupt Albrecht as he went on about Lysanrin anatomy. Knowing one's friends, knowing one's enemies; in some ways, it was the same thing. He had hated and loved Brenner Dornkirk in equal measures, his childhood friend, his adolescent tormenter. As men, they were friends again, but Dornkirk was the one he would go to in order to take a bullet to the brain if he lost control of the rune he bore. He genuinely liked Florian Albrecht, which was odd, but he would put a bullet in his brain if he lost control of his power and threatened the sanctity of Zaichaer.

Life was strange like that.

He wasn't quite done with his beer when Albrecht mentioned leaving, but then he was ordering another shot and Angevin was pulling out his purse to bankroll the evening. He would wave away any attempt to split the bill; he made much more than a private, and even if he didn't, there was the allowance from his father.

"Something about... oh." He beamed at the schnapps and snatched his up to raise a toast. "To my horny new friend!"

He laughed at his own joke, which made the shot go down wrong, so he coughed a bit and washed it down with the rest of his beer. The tab was settled, the tip generous, and Angevin slid out of his seat to stand, ready to keep the slender Lysanrin upright if necessary. The exotic, battered look was good for him, he thought, then snapped his eyes away.

"Ah, you can call me Eitan, I suppose, when we're out of uniform and drinking. I mean, I'm still in uniform, but... you know, in future. Oh, shut up. I'll walk you home, then hail a cab back to the highbrow part of town. That is, if I don't have to carry your skinny arse home." That said, he ambled toward the door, still fairly steady on his feet. The ground didn't feel like the deck of an airship in a storm or anything.

"Are you coming?"

[Florian]

He ambled out of the door and down the street, swaying a bit but still upright. Somehow. That wasn't to say he didn't nearly trip on every curb he came across, but for the most part, he was able to walk. It was like the deck of the airship in a strong wind, rather than the deck of an airship in a storm. The walk was the same distance, of course, but it seemed to take even longer with Flor's frequent close calls and occasional stumbling. He really just tried to walk slowly to avoid the mess. Luckily for both of them, Florian didn't typically throw up when he was drunk. The streets weren't empty, either, but they weren't as busy as they'd been when the duo had first gone to the bar.

"Well, this was a good night, I think." He stated into the dark, obviously to Eitan but also to no one in particular. He had managed to make it a few steps ahead of the XO, and he looked over his shoulder. Even when he was sober, he thought that Angevin was rather pretty. It was only now that he was drunk that he lingered on that thought a bit too long. "It's going to be a fun morning, though. Leave..." He dragged out the word quietly. "We'll be training soon too, won't we."

They eventually arrived at his apartment building, the first challenge of the night. Stairs. He gripped the railing with white knuckles and took them one step at a time until they reached his door. Florian reached for the key in his pocket, missed the keyhole, and dropped it. He kneeled down to search for it, but it's dark and he mostly just started to fumble around. "If you want to wait until you've sobered up a bit before seeing your family you can wait around inside. If you want." He pauses, and looks at the ground. "And maybe you could help me find my key."

He continued to paw at the ground until the key was found, and then with a good second try managed to unlock the door, which opened into the slightly less dusty and vastly less visible apartment they'd been in just a few hours earlier.

[Eitan Angevin]

The summer air was nice and he only had to catch Albrecht a few times to prevent disaster. It did feel as though they were swimming down the street, though, which was nice in its way. He had to be Commander Angevin for Albrecht, but the Lysanrin seemed to accept this new status quo, that Angevin would look out for him and he wouldn't do anything to make Angevin look bad. It felt like a decent partnership that would be mutually beneficial and not just another burden of the job.

"Training soon, aye," he said, laughing, "but you've tomorrow off. I just wouldn't go so hard tomorrow night if I were you."

The stairs weren't so bad for him, though Albrecht was taking them quite slowly. Angevin stayed close in case he needed steadying, and found himself on eye level with his arse, which wasn't a terrible place to be, all things considered. He laughed quietly at the dropped key, and then the Lysanrin was kneeling in front of him. That was nice. His hair was nice. He reached out to brush it, but Albrecht was talking.

"Oh, sure. For a little while." He figured he ought to say anything to make sure Albrecht got safely into his apartment and put to bed. "Ahh..." But thankfully, Albrecht found the key and the keyhole and the door swung open on the empty apartment. In order to be helpful, he stuck his hands under Albrecht's armpits and hefted him up until he was on his feet again.

"In you go."

And he would follow, perhaps urge the Lysanrin to drink some water before he passed out so as to minimize the damage in the morning. He couldn't stay long, of course, as Albrecht would have to lock the door behind him. No doubt thieves kept their eyes on places like this.

[Florian]

And up he went! Eitan seemed like quite the handsy person, even sober, but being drunk seemed to exasperate it.

Florian locked the door after Eitan walked in, and immediately began to make things a bit more habitable in the night. Inside the apartment, he fumbled around in the dim light until he found a lamp and managed to light it. In the flicker of the lantern he found a cup, and with that cup, he poured two glasses of water, only sloshing out a few drops. Onto the table they were set, and he pulled out one chair and sat in another.

"If you're thirsty," started Florian, and he gestured to the glass of water and the open chair. Florian downed the water like a man caught in the desert and went back for another. "I don't think I've drank that much in a while..." And he was not referring to the water.

"I'll be feeling it tomorrow." He laughed. "Guess it's a good thing I've got the day off, then." He finished his second glass of water standing up, swaying a bit. He made it back to the chair, sat down, and started to take off his shoes. "I won't be drinking tomorrow night, don't worry."

He yawned, his first of the night, and blinked slowly. His eyes had morphed into a violet, darker than before. His face was a bit flushed, too, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. "Usually if I go anywhere, I stay close by, but I figured that somewhere in the nicer parts would be more to your liking." He smiled, and it crinkled around his eyes. "Be funny to go to a highbrow bar, though. Higher up in the city. Maybe a bit scandalous, even."

Florian yawned again and stretched, but made no move to get up or usher out Eitan. "They nosy? Your family? Or do they leave you alone?" Florian felt like he knew the answer, but he asked regardless. He lingered in his chair a bit longer, watching Eitan as he spoke whatever reply he gave, and then for a bit longer.

"I'm just going to get ready for bed, I think." Abruptly, Florian stood up and went over to the small chest holding his clothes. He pulled out an old, oversized shirt more appropriate for sleep, yawned again, and turned his back towards Eitan. He yanked off the shirt he'd worn all day and slipped into the nightshirt. And then, as if he suddenly remembered that Eitan was there, he looked back at the man. "Oh. I could have waited until you left. Sorry." He stood there, half-dressed in real clothes and half in his pajamas. "If you don't want to catch a cab, you can sleep in the bed, and I can sleep on the floor. I don't mind. It's the least I could do."

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan made noises of thanks as he sat in the chair and drank some water. He could have kept going, but then he might have ended up crashing in a hotel room rather than alert his stepmother's servants or show up on the airship less than ready to be an exemplary officer. At least this way, he would be halfway sober by the time he ended up at the Angevin Estate.

"Best not to drink that much on the ship," he advised, though he knew it was unnecessary. There was ale and such for the airmen, but it was rationed and overindulgence was more than frowned upon. They always had to be ready for the worst and they couldn't do that when three sheets to the wind. Of course, in the heart of the High City, they were unlikely to need to defend themselves, especially now that the pidge prince and the dog he fucked were back in Kalzasi.

When Albrecht yawned, so did he. Yawns were known to be contagious. But he laughed about highbrow bars.

"I'll have a few in the officers' club," he admitted, "but if it's going to be a night of heavy drinking, tends to be somewhere my CO won't hear about it. Of course, can't go anywhere too divey or I'm like as not going to have to play constable when things get rough." His smile was a little too wide, a sure sign he had been drinking, though he wondered why anyone would want to go to a highbrow bar. Sure, the drinks could be delicious, but often the company wasn't company he could relax around.

When Albrecht decided abruptly to get ready for bed, Eitan also rose, finishing his water and setting the glass down. He was going to say something, but the private was acting as though he had privacy and had doffed some of his clothes. For whatever reason, he froze there and watched. And then Albrecht turned, remembering him, and made an offer. Eitan didn't quite stare, but he seemed to be weighing things in his head—his options, Albrecht's plans or lack thereof.

After a moment, he seemed to decide. "Better be off," he decided, almost regretfully. Then he joked, "Since you're such a lightweight and all."

He scoffed and grinned. "Not going to make a man give up his bunk for me. C'mon, then. Lock up after me. No telling who out there might want to steal your horn to make an aphrodisiac." Laughing at his own joke, he edged toward the door.

[Florian]

Florian was red in the face as he ducked over to open the door for Angevin. "Have a good night, and be safe, and I suppose I'll see you in a couple of days. Sober, hah," Now he was certain he'd had too much to drink, and this oversight was embarrassing him. After the XO left, Florian locked the door and turned out the light. He finished changing and laid in his bed, and all of the miscommunication and the accidental offers he'd made played out in his still-tipsy head. He hoped Angevin didn't misinterpret what he had meant, but there was no way of telling, and he surmised (and hoped) that he'd forget it by the morning. And that his superior would, too.

He'd have to be more careful in the future. And, of course, he blatantly refused to drink on the airship - so far, anyway. Maybe in the future, when he felt he could trust himself and the people around him more freely.

At least he was now home safe in his own bed. Commander Angevin - or Eitan, now that they were off duty, was an interesting person. Florian couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was because he had immediately taken it upon himself to look out for him, or maybe it was his pretty face, or maybe it was his slips of honesty and strange personal-space habits. Whatever the case, Florian had quickly deemed it ideal to listen to what he said, because if he listened, he continued to get the much-needed support that he provided.

Practicing his own siphoning wasn't too bad to get out of such a deal, either. The contrast between when he had begun to harness that power in quiet, private rebellion against the people he now basically worked for was not lost on him. And that the very power he had used to save the lives of those who would spit at his feet or harass him even still... the irony was not lost on Florian, and the thoughts occupied him into sleep.