folkmeme | leap night tfln

[Let's hope they don't make things worse, the pills.]

What sort of boat? [They might as well make a little conversation, lest he start paying too close to how high they're flying relative to the ground and potential death.

The cats, at least, know well enough not to try and escape at this height.]

You're preachin' to the choir on that. Ah've made my fair share of those.

[A beat.]

Did anyone get hurt or die?

[Honestly, it'd be his sort of luck.]

Oh, a merchant rig. Not with the ah... engines or whatnot they've got here, but with y'know, sails and such. [He's not sure how he'd feel about heights really, so the distraction is fine by him.]

Thankfully not this time! I mean, aside from the cat's pride, that probably took a bruisin' and all.

You mean, a sail boat? [She's absolutely teasing him with that, though it has her curious.] Are engines a thing where you're from?

[He's something not entirely human, which doesn't bother her one bit, but maybe he's from a more primitive world as far as tech is concerned. Like the one Magik yeeted her to when she tried to break Carol free from prion.]

Cats are resilient creatures. So long as you apologized, of course.

[He can't help but snort in response to that comment.]

A bit bigger than what you'd call a sail boat. Galleon, crewed about eighty to a hundred average. No engines though- only really know about those because some of the house boats have 'em. Don't know a thing about workin' 'em though.

[Honestly, so long as she wasn't asking unpleasant questions, everything's fine. People were curious about him around here, but the questions were more polite curiosity than shitty commentary, so definitely miles better than some places back home.]

I told you I'd apologize.

That's actually quite a sizable one. Did you enjoy it? Bein' on a ship that size?

[Lucky for him and the cats, wherever he had decided to intoxicate himself and harass cats wasn't too far from where she's taken up residence. At least, not as the crow flies.]

Just checkin'. You should always apologize to an angry pussy.

[Her expression remained the perfect example of innocence, minus the twinkle in her green yes and the slight twitching of the edge of her mouth.]

Gotta be big if you're sailin' over the ocean. Could be stressful sometimes, but what job isn't? Nice though... could be real peaceful-like sometimes.

[Please enjoy the way he flushes a darker green and chokes on whatever smart remark he was about to make at that Rogue you menace.]

Words t'live by- [Just managed in a wheeze.]

Did you ever get caught in anythin' like a hurricane? A big storm.

[His reaction was worth the risk of that double meaning tease. This will be delightful.]

Never forget the power of a good, solid apology.

[Pure innocence. She lands moments later on the roof of an apartment, setting him down carefully and holding her hands out in request of the cats.]

You hungry?

Oh sure, plenty of bad storms out in the sea. You try and avoid 'em if you can, usually you can see 'em comin', especially if you've got a cleric of the right sort worth their salt. Can't always though, which can get dicey... but so long as everyone keeps their cool it's typically doable.

[He does not buy that innocent facade, Jester did the same damn act. But he's sure as fuck not gonna call her on it and prompt more teasing!!!]

A lil' contrition goes a long way.

[He's not still a little flushed, nope, just gonna focus on the landing, and on handing over the sacks of cats who are... behaving rather well, all things considered.]

Sure wouldn't say no to breakfast.

A priest can predict the weather? [Rogue looks immediately more interested in this, but not for any normal reasons. She just knows someone who can control the weather, but most refer to her as a goddess.] Most normal folks relay on meteorologists for that. Through apps on our phones or the news.

[At the note on contrition, Rogue appears a little more like a cat who caught the canary.]

You ever have to provide an insurmountable amount of contritionin' to smooth things over?

[Pun intended. She throws him a wink before nodding for him to follow her as she turned around. Down the roof access and to her apartment they go.]

Come along then.

Nah, not priests, clerics. They all have magic of some sort from their god or goddess. So naturally, you get a cleric of some sorta nature, storm, or ocean deity, they can be pretty useful on a ship. Can get expensive though. [And a frown, brows furrowing faintly as he tried to suss out what the hell Rogue was talking about.] Meteorwhatagists? And apps? Phones are like the things they gave us here, right?

[He at least remembers someone mentioning that in passing.

The other bit just had a bit more of a flush going. Gods this one was just like Jester, how was this his luck?]

I... can't say I've ever displeased someone quite that much.

[Just a faint cough, as he followed along in her wake.]

That's what we call supply an' demand. [And good for the clerics for getting what their owed. Absently, she wonders if they're persecuted at all for having abilities, and then she wonders if he's ever had to deal with bullies. There's a quietness in the glance his way for a moment before she shakes herself out of that mental rabbit hole with a smile.]

Do you need help with the Relic? It works pretty much like a phone or tablet.

[Now that she's facing away from him Rogue can drop the remnants of the innocence mask that was slowly slipping as she continued to torment him.]

That's real unfortunate. Maybe one day you'll enjoy that opportunity.

Ah'm Rogue, by the way.

Never said it was a bad thing. Supply and demand keeps a merchant ship in the black too.

[Fjord had no idea what Rogue was thinking there, but he'd definitely be able to clarify things there.

Most of it. Not about to talk about how people are about his sort, no thanks!]

M- [His voice is just gonna pitch an octave higher there a moment.] maybe-

I'm Fjord. Good t'meet you.

[She utters a low, drawling murmur of agreement at his profitability note, balancing the cats as they descend down the flights of stairs. When she pushes the door open, Rogue throws him a smirk over her shoulder.]

Lookin' like you do ah'm sure you'll do just fine.

[Once he starts being able to not short circuit when someone flirts with him. Well practice makes permanent.]

Pleasure. [Did she drop her voice a bit lower with that word? Yep. For no reason at all.] C'mon, ah'm just at the end of the hall. You can freshen up in the bathroom before ah squirrel the cats away in there.

[Hopefully that'll help with his allergies.]

[It likely would have gotten him flustered again, and it did, a bit, but there was also an almost sort of blink-and-you-miss-it sort of expression, like he just couldn't quite make sense of what she said, that anyone would find him attractive if they weren't looking for some stereotypical example of a half-orc. Which he sure as hell wasn't. But it was shaken off for a soft huff in response as he followed along.]

S'appreciated. [He thankfully wasn't a mess, but he knew he'd feel better for a chance to splash some water on his face and straighten up a bit all the same.]

[Honestly, she doesn't know what he is species-wise, and for the sake of her opinion in this matter, it's irrelevant information. She's curious, of course, but that conversation can be had whenever it comes up organically.

Hoisting the cat bags onto her shoulders a little more securely, Rogue rummaged for her key and let them into the apartment. It's still pretty standard issue for the moment. One thing to notice is that she clearly was in the midst of making breakfast. Also, that there are several dozen fresh muffins cooling on racks.]

You woke up in an alley after vomiting on a cat. It's the least I could do.

[To be fair, Fjord has no idea what's standard issue. His friends settled in Gram, so he saw the cottage, but he'd found himself a ramshackle little one-person houseboat to live in for the moment. For... reasons.

He wanders in after Rogue, giving the sacks of cats a sideways glance as one of them wiggles with a muffled, increasingly annoyed-sounding feline complaint, pushing the door shut lightly behind them.]

Didn't mean t'interrupt breakfast.

[It's the not vomit covered one, so Rogue allows him a little leeway with poking his head out of the bag, sniffing the air deeply and thoughtfully. She doesn't suspect the relative patience will last.

At his apology, she waves it off in dismissal.]

Ah bake an' cook to relax. It's like meditation with an edible reward. You're welcome to some muffins. Food's meant to share.

I can't say I'll argue with that.

[A faint, amused chuckle slips out.]

Which way's the bathroom? Figure you'll wanna get those two settled before they riot, yeah?

Good man.

[Arguing with her tended to be a poor choice overall. At his question, she motioned towards the location of the bathroom.

Whenever he comes out, he'll find that she's gleaned a towel from the kitchen and has wiped the sick off of the super unfortunate one. They'll get properly bathed later.]

[Does Fjord even know any women who it's good to argue with?

Whatever the case he shuffles his way into the bathroom to wash his face, rinse his mouth out and generally straighten up. And maybe catch himself trying not to worry about how soon his tusks will start to become visible now that he's stopped messing with them. He gives himself a shake on that one. They're still not visible if he doesn't smile too wide so it's a problem for Future Fjord.

Once he feels slightly less like he'd been fished out of a dumpster he'll be rejoining Rogue and the cats, though giving the felines a berth.]

They're pretty chill for alley cats.

[Rogue could think of at least one. No wait, two. Wade's really a glutton for punishment. Remy just enjoys the banter and challenge.

She has a type.

Glancing his way she offers him a more subdued smile while scratching the one cat's chin.]

That either means they were dumped on the street, or they've been fed and cared for by local folks, just not enough so as to give 'em a home.

[At that, she smoothly scoops them both up and trots them off to the bathroom, settling them in the dry shower and then sequestering them fully in the bathroom.]

Any other allergies ah should be worried 'bout?

Suppose so...

[He's used to seeing cats around- cities had plenty with all the rodents, and allergies or no cats were a must on a ship if you didn't want mice and rats up in your stores or spreading diseases.

Luckily his aren't so serious, which means once the cats are elsewhere he'll be clearing up quickly enough with a little time.]

Luckily nothin' I've found as of yet.

[Never fear, as a mutant who called Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters home, Rogue's something of an expert when it comes to taking and and taking care of strays of all sorts. She has excellent 'mother bear' energy when necessary.]

That's good to hear.

[She moves past him to the kitchen, maybe brushing a bit close. Intentionally? The jury's out. But, maybe he'll notice that she's changed out her gloves for a fresh pair of a different color.]

So, what are you hungry for sugah?

[Well, that was a middling perception check so he does not think anything is intentional and while he had noticed her gloves before, missed that she had a new pair on now. Whoops?

He is brought up a bit short at the nickname, blinking slowly before shaking out of the consideration with a wry smile.]

Bacon and eggs'd be good if you've got it, but I'm not too picky.

[He smile twitches when she notices his reaction to her habitual pet name of sorts. There's always a bit of joy in making a proper or awkward man squirm with a little flirting, or in this case, simply being kind.]

Ah can whip that up for you right quick. How do you like your eggs?

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