just what does lie in other minds

[adorabastard]

Who: Alistair Argent and Aaron Harding
Where: ... A PLACE. A place with open space. (Will update this.)
When: Saturday
What: Sparring!
Warnings: None at the moment. Will update if needed.


[Although he had been the one to initiate contact, it's still with no small amount of wariness that Alistair arrives. He's met the man all of once after all: what was he thinking, asking if the other would be up for this?

[But the potential damage has already been done. And here Alistair stands, wearing nonrestrictive, flexible clothing, ready for whatever Harding has to throw at him.]

Comments

[show_my_cannons]

[He'd been surprised, to say the least, when the younger man had contacted him. Harding wasn't exactly social. He'd handed over his contact info in case the kid got into trouble. Not really anything more.]

[But he wasn't going to complain about this.]

[He stands opposite Alistair now, rolling broad shoulders in preparation. He'd opted for similar clothing, sleeveless, showing arms roped in heavy muscle and coated in scars. His hands stayed wrapped, for the moment, hiding the ridiculous tattoos covering them. But with his jacket and hood removed, there was no hiding the ones on his face.]

[At least the scarring there made them a little less ridiculous.]

Whenever you're ready, kid.

[adorabastard]

[The scars aren't entirely surprising, given what he'd noticed before of the other man's gait. It was clear then that Harding had suffered more than his share of injuries.

[Alistair doesn't have as much, in the way of scarring. Physically, he'd escaped from special forces remarkably unscathed. Mentally is another matter entirely — but he's hoping that this will help with a bit of that. Hoping.

[There is one thing that draws his attention, far more than the scarring. And that is:]

Before we start, I have to ask....

[He gestures to his own face with hands currently unwrapped.]

[show_my_cannons]

[Internally he winces. He'd been hoping to avoid this. But... well. It had to come up eventually. Maybe he should take the professor up on the idea of makeup or facepaint or whatever thing he'd been babbling about.]

[So... he deflects.]

I didn't duck a grenade fast enough.

[He jerks a thumb at the scarring coating his eye. Clearly that is what Alistair means, not the tattoos.]

[adorabastard]

[Alistair has the decency to look shamefaced. He hadn't intended to ask about that. That was actually rather normal, to him. Especially compared to:]

I meant the tattoos.

[A small, slightly helpless smile.]

Sorry. The other's nothing out of the ordinary, to me.

[He hopes Harding understands the meaning of that. While he himself doesn't have such scars, he's seen plenty of men who do have them — and far worse.]

[show_my_cannons]

[Harding just grunts. Next time, he's keeping the hood on. Dammit.]

It was one of those pulses.

[He says it flatly, almost annoyed -- well. Okay, he sounds annoyed. But his irritation is with the marks on his face, not the other man.]

Don't know anything more than that.

[Yeah, he gets the meaning there. And doesn't push it. Maybe that explains something about why this guy is so skittish.]

[adorabastard]

[A short nod. The annoyance isn't missed: Alistair lowers his stance, cutting the small talk in favor of what they're here for.

[But not before he adds:]

So's the accent, if it helps.

[show_my_cannons]

... The accent is? How'd that happen?

[Which is probably a really stupid question, but... how else do you answer that?]

[adorabastard]

I wish I knew. I was raised right here in Locke City.

[He hasn't yet connected it to the pink lights he saw in the sky, before it happened.]

[show_my_cannons]

... And suddenly your voice changed. Just like that?

[Which shouldn't be any stranger than his face suddenly being tattooed but still.]

[adorabastard]

Exactly like that. Trying to explain it to my boss — my then boss, I mean, was a fun morning.

[No. It was not a fun morning.]

[show_my_cannons]

Your then boss? You quit?

[While he's speaking, he's begun rolling his shoulders, loosening things, all in preparation.]

[adorabastard]

I was offered another job.

[So ... yes, he quit. And now he's the star of a children's television show. There have been times when he's questioned that decision, but there it is.

[He stretches his arms in the meantime, offering nothing more in terms of explanation.]

[show_my_cannons]

Good to hear.

[And he means it too, even if he'd raise an eyebrow at the whole... television show thing.]

[He pauses in speaking, watching the other man.]

Whenever you're ready.