tragic_mask | (no subject)

"Less balanced," he says. "More... troubled, I suppose. But I'm enjoying this."

"Good," she says, and kisses him.

He returns the kiss, and smiles at her.

An ordinary, sincere smile, nothing more complicated than that.

And he doesn't say anything, because he doesn't need to.

She, however, decides it's time for important decision-making.

"Do you want to go get breakfast somewhere?"

"Breakfast," he says after a moment. "Breakfast, yes. We have the rest of the pizza here, but we may want that later, and I think I want proper breakfast food. A waffle the size of a plate, maybe some bacon."

"We should just go down to Denny's," she says. "If you don't mind the low-budget, slightly cheesy atmosphere."

"That would be perfect," he says with a smile, standing up. "Do they have the paper placemats and crayons? If not, they should."

"Oh, I'm sure they do," she says, sagely.

"Excellent," he says, and offers her his arm. "Are there any valuables we need to secure before we leave?"

"I don't think I brought anything valuable," she says, and takes his arm.

"And all my valuables are on my person, and nobody is likely to steal them," he says. "Let's go, then."

"All right," she says, and goes through the door.

He walks with her, checking to make sure the door locked once they are out of the room. "And we'll have coffee," he says. "Possibly quite bad coffee."

"Probably," she agrees. "It's part of the experience."

"As long as we avoid poisoning," he says with a smile. "Do you ever get sick? I don't, usually."

"Not really. Sometimes I feel sick to my stomach, if I swallow a fatal plant or something."

"...well, you should be careful what you eat," he says. "But it is comforting to know that it can't seriously harm you."

"Yes, I'm practically invincible," she says. "Though it's not pleasant, you could certainly ram a sword through me without major repercussions."

"I don't intend to try," he says with a smile, "but if I ever did, you could do the same to me with about the same effect. Unpleasantness, but nothing permanent."

"Three cheers for immortality," she says, not a bit ironically.

"You know, if we'd mete a few decades ago we could have put together a magic act," he says. "Death-defying feats--and if the knife slipped or the locks wouldn't budge, well, it would just make a better show."

"That would be something," she says.

"We'd have to trade off on being the 'lovely assistant,' I think. Take a little time to recover in between. I can take a lot of damage, but I do like to rest afterward."

"Yes," she says, with a grin. "I can be the charismatic magician, sometimes. At least, I'd like to think I could."

"You can throw knives at me," he says with a grin, "and it wouldn't matter if it takes you a while to get the hang of it. Have you ever thrown knives?"