I think that went rather well, all things considered.
[--Scipio says, just a little too brightly. The remark doesn't sound particularly try-hard, because the 'that' to which he is referring didn't go particularly not rather well.
Then again, it didn't go particularly well, either. The 'rather' is a necessary qualifier here. For Scipio, 'rather' is acceptable. A little profit, a little something to spend at the pub but, first and foremost: to spend here, after hours, at everyone's favorite all night pie shop.
Which, by the way: pies. Two plates are banged up on the table, and Scipio grabs right for his fork and knife, shoving aside the parchment of plotting with the back of his wrist.]
And you know what they say. To the victors, the spoils, so eat yours before it spoils-- [Or before Scipio gets at it--] Steak and kidney pie, can you smell it? Rafa? Look. Yours is up too. Ra-fa, yoo-hoo--
[A long-standing relationship of deep fraternal friendship and understanding means that Scipio can wave a hand in front of Rafa's face.]
There were only three parts that went wrong by my count, which means we get three bites of pie before we review. That's what the pouch of gold in my pocket tells me, anyways.
[Rather good indeed. So some of that pouch is silver as well. So what. Gold is gold is gold, and silver buys pies, and Scipio is bloody hungry.]
And did you see that fellow's face, when you snatched the hat off his head? Inspired. Bought us at least twenty seconds more time, which was crucial to me getting the little, thingee, off of that jug.
[He takes a self-satisfied bite of pie. The most satisfied ruffian out there.]
[ Rafael is busy scratching away at the parchment with a nub of a quill, sketching out lines in quick strokes that start out sure but grow less-so as Scipio nudges his elbow with a pie plate and starts chattering at him and waving hands in front of his face. ]
Skip. Skip. SKIP. Stuff your mouth full of pie already and let me finish this! If I don't get it down now I'll forget.
[ And Maker forbid Rafael fail to keep his notebook properly updated. It's come in handy more than once, his little tome full of schematics and maps, routes and guard rotations. 'Painstaking' isn't really the first word anyone would use to describe Scipio's partner in crime, but in this one regard he is a stickler. The heel of his hand smudges a hallway and he sighs and tosses the pen aside, fingertips leaving ink stains on the paper wrapping when he picks up his pie. ]
The hat was the best part, [ he says between bites, licking bits of crust off his cleaner fingers. His grin is sudden. ] If you give me half your pie I'll let you borrow it.
[ He starts his little floor plan over, eating with his free hand and gesturing with his pie. ]
[The hat really was the best part, Scipio reflects, privately, as he takes another bite. He regards Rafael with affection, as he scribbles. This note-taking is an eccentricity that has gained them many purses and pies and friends and riches and notoriety on top of all of that, and far be it from him to ruin genius.
But far be it from him to wait for pie, either. He's got almost half his pie gone when Rafael makes the offer, and he looks down at the mucky paper before he shrugs, and shoves another bite in his mouth.]
You'll think of another for me. This pie's too good for hats.
[Such confidence in the co-author of their schemes, but it's a confidence that has stood many tests. Scipio tips his head sideways, considering the floor plan.]
Interesting. [--He remarks, idly, as he licks gravy from his thumb. Not the floor plan, because he's moved on--] D'you really want a girl who's into feathers?
Better than-- aah, what was her name? [ He snaps his fingers trying to call it up, or prompt Scipio to do so. They share a brain most of the time as it is. ] Mariska? Marinda? The one who liked fur so much. Anyway, if she looks like Carlotta? I could live with feathers.
[ Rafa's smirk remains even as he turns his face back to the parchment, wolfing down another bite of pie as he counts out the rooms he's already drawn and adds another, measuring out relative distances against his own knuckle bone. ]
It is good pie, not that shit from last week that didn't even have kidneys in it. Hey, that was your third bite, what did we do wrong? Your three first.
[--Scipio supplies, the other half of the shared brain. If one of them doesn't remember, the other surely will.]
And fur is becoming. Feathers tickle the nose. Make you sneeze. You aren't cute when you sneeze, Rafa. I'm saying this as your friend.
[But also, as a friend, and a business partner: he has to answer to that request. Scipio wrinkles his nose.]
Oh, three? I only counted two. Let me get my third--
[Fourth, but who's counting, and quickly he stabs his fork down into his partially-devoured pie and scoops up another bite, and stabs his fork back down with an air of finality before Rafael can protest. With an air of finality, he leans his hand on its rounded end, digging the tines in.]
Let's seeeeeee. Three. Three, three, three. Well, it was masterfully planned and masterfully executed, of course. By two masters. But even masters can improve, so-o....
[ Rafael has plenty to say to the rest, about how fur is perfectly nice but should come off in bed and of course he's not cute, he's handsome, cute is Skip's arena, but he has a mouthful of pie and by the time he's finished chewing enough to get a word out let alone enough for anything approaching manners Scipio is already miles down the road. It's nothing new, and probably helps avoid arguments between them, if he's honest. Skip hurtles ahead and by the time Rafa catches up he's ready to shrug and move along with him. ]
The blasted cat! [ Rafa's groan is all agreement. ] How did we miss that they had a cat? How do you even hide a beast that large? We'll have to start checking for them like dogs. Also get these clothes brushed soon. [ He adds, holding up a couple of long white hairs from his shoulder and grimacing. ]
[He has never seen a mountain lion. But he has seen a lion, which is larger than a mountain lion, and had looked terrifying even while caged, so. An overlarge cat must be something between that and a housecat, by Scipio's reckoning.]
We weren't to blame, really. I think they kept it shut up on purpose. Like a secret surprise guard.
[Rafael's plucking gets him doing the same. Three white hairs, off of his shoulder--and a fourth, from the front of his shirt, and he wrinkles his nose as he divests himself of that reminder, flicking his fingers together briskly over the side of the table.]
If I'd had some fish, in addition to the bone for the dog, we'd have been all right. I'll practice with cats before next time.
[Scipio, good with animals. Another talent to boast of. He plucks another hair off of the leg of his trousers.]
Or a panther. [ Rafa saw a panther head on someone's wall, once. That sort of counts? ] It was at least half lion, that's for certain.
[ He picks more hair off his sleeve as he draws a lion head in the corner of a room. Definitely remembering that for next time. ] We'd never have made it through the front door with fish, no noble smells of fish. Maybe a bone with meat on it? Cats eat meat.
[ He takes another bite of pie, narrowly managing to save a glob of filling from tumbling out onto his fist. But he does catch it, and tucks it into the corner of his mouth, chewing as he shakes his head and lifts a finger in protest. ]
No, two is the shoes. The shoes made me trip because the toes are ridiculous and we shouldn't have trusted Lorenzo to stitch them up right.
We could disguise the smell. Wear a lot of scent, perfumes and colognes and things. Cats eat meat, but do they eat it off the bone? They've got such little teeth...
[All things to research. He stares down at a chunk of steak in the gooey depths of his own pie. Would a cat eat a pie? Better question, would he let a cat eat a pie, or would he have eaten it himself before the cat got to it?
Probably. He does love pie. Scipio rewards himself with another bite, and nods along with Rafael's comments on the shoes.]
I wasn't sure about the shoes to start with. The curls in the toes. I mean, for one, they made your legs look short. And that was before they sabotaged us.
Did you see the teeth on this one? It was plenty eager to eat right off our bones.
[ But still, Skip makes a good point. Research is required. As much as they both love improvisation, it pays better to be prepared. (And then improvise on top of it, obviously.) ]
Doesn't Three Finger Julie have a cat? Maybe we can borrow it.
[ He scratches his ear with the butt of the quill, jagged and prickly enough that he pulls it away and makes a face. And then another face at Scipio for his assessment. He's not exactly vain, but he is proud. And he's far from honest, but it is true. He concedes with a shrug and a lift of a hand. ]
No man can wear shoes like that and not be a laughingstock. Did you see how the Marquessa looked at me when she saw them? [ He imitates it helpfully, meeting Scipio's eyes with a promisingly flirtatious little eyebrow wiggle and then trailing down and down until abruptly converting to horror around his feet and never quite recovering. He flutters and imaginary fan and mimes making excuses to run off. ] It's the last time we take advice from Lorenzo. The Vizconde della Fortunato and Baron Nutrino will just have to be men of taste instead of fashion.
[He bursts out laughing at Rafael's impression. Not only is it funny, but it is dead on to the Marquessa's once over.]
Maker, Rafa-- put a wig on you, do your eyebrows and the mole, get a gown, and you could be her. You're not related, are you? Because there's real potential there, you know, for future disguises--
[Actually, the thought of Rafael in a dress and wig is enough to get him chuckling again. Not that Rafa wouldn't do it. He would do it, if the plan required it, if it was the only way to make it happen. But he would be a little sour--not exactly vain, but probably not thrilled all the same, and certainly not thrilled if Scipio was giggling the whole time--whereas Scipio would probably wear the dress without batting an eye. Which is why it would be funnier if Rafael wore the dress.
He sighs, a little mournfully--partly put-on, over the concession toward taste over fashion, and partly because he will probably never get to see Rafael forced to don a dress.]
Oh, well. Baron Nutrino likes taste better anyways. Taste means he's not squeezing his arse into tights.
[He plucks at the leg of his trousers.]
Because, I don't know about the Vizconde, but Baron Nutrino? Needs a little extra room.
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carisma_sensei
no subject
Date: 2015-10-12 09:00 pm (UTC)[--Scipio says, just a little too brightly. The remark doesn't sound particularly try-hard, because the 'that' to which he is referring didn't go particularly not rather well.
Then again, it didn't go particularly well, either. The 'rather' is a necessary qualifier here. For Scipio, 'rather' is acceptable. A little profit, a little something to spend at the pub but, first and foremost: to spend here, after hours, at everyone's favorite all night pie shop.
Which, by the way: pies. Two plates are banged up on the table, and Scipio grabs right for his fork and knife, shoving aside the parchment of plotting with the back of his wrist.]
And you know what they say. To the victors, the spoils, so eat yours before it spoils-- [Or before Scipio gets at it--] Steak and kidney pie, can you smell it? Rafa? Look. Yours is up too. Ra-fa, yoo-hoo--
[A long-standing relationship of deep fraternal friendship and understanding means that Scipio can wave a hand in front of Rafa's face.]
There were only three parts that went wrong by my count, which means we get three bites of pie before we review. That's what the pouch of gold in my pocket tells me, anyways.
[Rather good indeed. So some of that pouch is silver as well. So what. Gold is gold is gold, and silver buys pies, and Scipio is bloody hungry.]
And did you see that fellow's face, when you snatched the hat off his head? Inspired. Bought us at least twenty seconds more time, which was crucial to me getting the little, thingee, off of that jug.
[He takes a self-satisfied bite of pie. The most satisfied ruffian out there.]
no subject
Date: 2015-10-12 11:17 pm (UTC)Skip. Skip. SKIP. Stuff your mouth full of pie already and let me finish this! If I don't get it down now I'll forget.
[ And Maker forbid Rafael fail to keep his notebook properly updated. It's come in handy more than once, his little tome full of schematics and maps, routes and guard rotations. 'Painstaking' isn't really the first word anyone would use to describe Scipio's partner in crime, but in this one regard he is a stickler. The heel of his hand smudges a hallway and he sighs and tosses the pen aside, fingertips leaving ink stains on the paper wrapping when he picks up his pie. ]
The hat was the best part, [ he says between bites, licking bits of crust off his cleaner fingers. His grin is sudden. ] If you give me half your pie I'll let you borrow it.
[ He starts his little floor plan over, eating with his free hand and gesturing with his pie. ]
I bet Carlotta would be into the feathers.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-13 02:36 am (UTC)But far be it from him to wait for pie, either. He's got almost half his pie gone when Rafael makes the offer, and he looks down at the mucky paper before he shrugs, and shoves another bite in his mouth.]
You'll think of another for me. This pie's too good for hats.
[Such confidence in the co-author of their schemes, but it's a confidence that has stood many tests. Scipio tips his head sideways, considering the floor plan.]
Interesting. [--He remarks, idly, as he licks gravy from his thumb. Not the floor plan, because he's moved on--] D'you really want a girl who's into feathers?
no subject
Date: 2015-10-13 11:16 pm (UTC)[ Rafa's smirk remains even as he turns his face back to the parchment, wolfing down another bite of pie as he counts out the rooms he's already drawn and adds another, measuring out relative distances against his own knuckle bone. ]
It is good pie, not that shit from last week that didn't even have kidneys in it. Hey, that was your third bite, what did we do wrong? Your three first.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-14 12:39 am (UTC)[--Scipio supplies, the other half of the shared brain. If one of them doesn't remember, the other surely will.]
And fur is becoming. Feathers tickle the nose. Make you sneeze. You aren't cute when you sneeze, Rafa. I'm saying this as your friend.
[But also, as a friend, and a business partner: he has to answer to that request. Scipio wrinkles his nose.]
Oh, three? I only counted two. Let me get my third--
[Fourth, but who's counting, and quickly he stabs his fork down into his partially-devoured pie and scoops up another bite, and stabs his fork back down with an air of finality before Rafael can protest. With an air of finality, he leans his hand on its rounded end, digging the tines in.]
Let's seeeeeee. Three. Three, three, three. Well, it was masterfully planned and masterfully executed, of course. By two masters. But even masters can improve, so-o....
[Ah. He snaps his fingers, briskly.]
One. The cat.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-14 03:09 pm (UTC)[ Rafael has plenty to say to the rest, about how fur is perfectly nice but should come off in bed and of course he's not cute, he's handsome, cute is Skip's arena, but he has a mouthful of pie and by the time he's finished chewing enough to get a word out let alone enough for anything approaching manners Scipio is already miles down the road. It's nothing new, and probably helps avoid arguments between them, if he's honest. Skip hurtles ahead and by the time Rafa catches up he's ready to shrug and move along with him. ]
The blasted cat! [ Rafa's groan is all agreement. ] How did we miss that they had a cat? How do you even hide a beast that large? We'll have to start checking for them like dogs. Also get these clothes brushed soon. [ He adds, holding up a couple of long white hairs from his shoulder and grimacing. ]
no subject
Date: 2015-10-14 04:02 pm (UTC)[He has never seen a mountain lion. But he has seen a lion, which is larger than a mountain lion, and had looked terrifying even while caged, so. An overlarge cat must be something between that and a housecat, by Scipio's reckoning.]
We weren't to blame, really. I think they kept it shut up on purpose. Like a secret surprise guard.
[Rafael's plucking gets him doing the same. Three white hairs, off of his shoulder--and a fourth, from the front of his shirt, and he wrinkles his nose as he divests himself of that reminder, flicking his fingers together briskly over the side of the table.]
If I'd had some fish, in addition to the bone for the dog, we'd have been all right. I'll practice with cats before next time.
[Scipio, good with animals. Another talent to boast of. He plucks another hair off of the leg of his trousers.]
Two. You tripped.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-14 04:20 pm (UTC)[ He picks more hair off his sleeve as he draws a lion head in the corner of a room. Definitely remembering that for next time. ] We'd never have made it through the front door with fish, no noble smells of fish. Maybe a bone with meat on it? Cats eat meat.
[ He takes another bite of pie, narrowly managing to save a glob of filling from tumbling out onto his fist. But he does catch it, and tucks it into the corner of his mouth, chewing as he shakes his head and lifts a finger in protest. ]
No, two is the shoes. The shoes made me trip because the toes are ridiculous and we shouldn't have trusted Lorenzo to stitch them up right.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-14 05:20 pm (UTC)[All things to research. He stares down at a chunk of steak in the gooey depths of his own pie. Would a cat eat a pie? Better question, would he let a cat eat a pie, or would he have eaten it himself before the cat got to it?
Probably. He does love pie. Scipio rewards himself with another bite, and nods along with Rafael's comments on the shoes.]
I wasn't sure about the shoes to start with. The curls in the toes. I mean, for one, they made your legs look short. And that was before they sabotaged us.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-14 08:16 pm (UTC)[ But still, Skip makes a good point. Research is required. As much as they both love improvisation, it pays better to be prepared. (And then improvise on top of it, obviously.) ]
Doesn't Three Finger Julie have a cat? Maybe we can borrow it.
[ He scratches his ear with the butt of the quill, jagged and prickly enough that he pulls it away and makes a face. And then another face at Scipio for his assessment. He's not exactly vain, but he is proud. And he's far from honest, but it is true. He concedes with a shrug and a lift of a hand. ]
No man can wear shoes like that and not be a laughingstock. Did you see how the Marquessa looked at me when she saw them? [ He imitates it helpfully, meeting Scipio's eyes with a promisingly flirtatious little eyebrow wiggle and then trailing down and down until abruptly converting to horror around his feet and never quite recovering. He flutters and imaginary fan and mimes making excuses to run off. ] It's the last time we take advice from Lorenzo. The Vizconde della Fortunato and Baron Nutrino will just have to be men of taste instead of fashion.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-14 09:12 pm (UTC)Maker, Rafa-- put a wig on you, do your eyebrows and the mole, get a gown, and you could be her. You're not related, are you? Because there's real potential there, you know, for future disguises--
[Actually, the thought of Rafael in a dress and wig is enough to get him chuckling again. Not that Rafa wouldn't do it. He would do it, if the plan required it, if it was the only way to make it happen. But he would be a little sour--not exactly vain, but probably not thrilled all the same, and certainly not thrilled if Scipio was giggling the whole time--whereas Scipio would probably wear the dress without batting an eye. Which is why it would be funnier if Rafael wore the dress.
He sighs, a little mournfully--partly put-on, over the concession toward taste over fashion, and partly because he will probably never get to see Rafael forced to don a dress.]
Oh, well. Baron Nutrino likes taste better anyways. Taste means he's not squeezing his arse into tights.
[He plucks at the leg of his trousers.]
Because, I don't know about the Vizconde, but Baron Nutrino? Needs a little extra room.