Damica + Valentin || Cousins and booze
Who: Damica and Valentin
When: Saturday night (after a log that's still in the works)
Where: The Coil
Ratings & Warnings: PG-13 for talk of violence?
Valentin knew that there was a bar in particular that his cousin Damica frequented with the other members of the guard, and he even knew where it was. And if he’d rather be drinking at home, taking some of the especially good things out of his father’s cellar, well, he should’ve considered it before picking a fight with every other member of the family he was inclined to speak to.
Well, mostly Laurent.
So it was with a heavy purse and an aching jaw that he entered The Coil, and took a seat beside his cousin. “Congratulations,” he said, as he pulled out a few coins to get the attention of one of the serving staff. “You’ve been promoted to the office of my new favourite cousin.”
As soon as Valentin sat, the other guards Damica had been sitting with shuffled off to sit elsewhere. This, of course, made her give an exasperated sigh, but she then donned a familial smile as she turned to her relative.
"To what do I owe the delight of such a promotion, cousin?" she asked, before lifting her tankard to take a long pull from its contents. She was out of armour, thankfully, but still wore more manly clothing which included her sword belted to her hip.
"The others have been demoted," he replied, before ordering whatever passed for brandy in a place like this. "It's a dubious honour at best." Valentin smiled, though, swallowing the better part of his vitriol with a bit of brandy. Best if he could manage to get through the day with one relative who wasn't enraged with him.
When it came down to it, he was more afraid of a fight with Damica than he was of one with Laurent. Granted, he figured his chances for being punched by the member of the guard were much lower, at this point, than those of being punched by his nearly ever-present cousin.
"Ah," she said, setting her drink back down on the table. "Still at odds with the family, are we?" She gave a smirk and folded her arms on the tabletop, head veered sideways to eye Valentin. "Do you do this intentionally, or is it just something that happens?"
"Was I ever not, truly, Damica?" He shrugged, and held out his hands in a helpless gesture. "A bit of column A, a bit of column B, though, if I'm being honest." For once he hadn't been trying to start an argument with his father. Adelle and Laurent were another situation altogether, though. "Today was a bit strange, even for me."
That brought another smirk. "Strange for you would be not getting into a fight for a change. Have you ever tried it? I've noticed family tend to be more giving if you actually get along, even just once in a while." After she spoke, Damica lifted her drink to finish it off, then flagged someone down for a refill. While he drank brandy, or the closest thing they had to it, she stuck to the ale. She'd been nursing that last one for well over an hour, though family seemed to speed up her drinking. Funny, that.
"You know, it's very unbecoming to smile at the misfortunes of others, cousin." Valentin smiled at Damica all the same. It wasn't as if he wasn't guilty of that very thing, on a regular basis, after all. "But, in fact, I did my very best to avoid one just today. Unfortunately, but not unpredictably, even when I put a good effort into it I can't seem to avoid getting into shouting matches with the old man." Of course, the other fight he’d brought on himself, though perhaps he didn’t have the foresight to expect it.
"Last I checked, I had quite the reputation for unbecoming behaviour with our family." She gave him a grin. As her refill arrived, she handed the server the coins for it, then sipped at it. Fresh ale was always the best. "Just be glad I'm easier to get along with than most of the guards, or you'd wind up having to demote me, as well."
Valentin laughed quietly. "The only member of our family who doesn't have a reputation of some sort is Laurent. Although, perhaps he should." Oh, there were probably any number of other well-behaved cousins, but when you got to the size of the Vaux family, only those who particularly stood out for one reason or another tended to catch one's attention.
"In any case," Valentin said, "I assumed that even if you weren't happy to see me, you might pretend you were if I paid for drinks the rest of the night."
That made Damica give her own laugh, not nearly so quietly as Valentin's. "I can pretend even without the free drinks, but they'll certainly help." She gave him a look, curiosity combined with disbelief. "Though if you're so used to these fights, what was so special about today that you needed to escape and visit this place?" The Coil really didn't seem like his venue.
”I’m not terribly accustomed to being punched in the face,” he replied with a shrug. He took another sip of his drink, and made a face at it. It was awful, and yet he couldn’t be bothered to stop, or change it for something more palatable. “I’d rather leave the physical fighting to you and yours, but apparently that wasn’t in the cards today.”
She pointed at her cousin's drink. "Not quite what you're used to?" she asked, snickering. Yes, she was going to laugh at his misfortune. Because it was funny. And pretending it was the drink she was snickering at, and not the 'punched in the face' part, made it less likely this would wind up a fight, as well. Once her snicker settled and she managed to put on a (reasonably) straight face, she added, "You ever consider taking up acting? I'm sure you could find a suitable teacher. It would make dealing with relatives easier. And less likely to result in face punching." Of course, she had to snicker then. So much for that.
"Your bar is terrible," he told her, plainly. "If not for your excellent company, this wouldn't be my first choice. As for the acting..." He shrugged, smiling a bit ruefully. "Well, this being punched in the face idiocy is a first, truth be told. Laurent usually backs down before he gets that angry."
"Only because you're not used to it. It's one of those things that needs to grow on you." She sipped at her own drink, smirking, and gave him a surprised look. "First time? Well, congratulations on your first cousin-punch, cousin." She lifted her glass to give a meager salute before chugging back some more of the frothy ale. "At least you survived. T'would be such a shame to have to attend a funeral this week." What with her birthday coming up and all.
"Your sympathy is truly overwhelming, Damica," he murmured in a deadpan tone, taking another sip of the truly awful brandy. "I'm certain you'd be affected not at all if I were to keel over dead tomorrow." Not that he resented her that. Most of the family would be relatively unaffected, except for whatever poor sap found himself next in line to inherit.
Laurent probably.
Valentin winced, and took a longer drink this time. "But I suppose you'd be obligated to oversee the formalities. Perhaps someone would ask you to investigate." His tone spoke volumes: no one, he expected, actually would.
Damica shrugged. "As much as I may not consider you my favorite relative, I would still feel inclined to investigate. You are still family." It really was mostly her parents and sister that she despised. The rest of the Vaux family were, well, unpleasant, but still family. She supposed.
Not to mention being a member of the Guard instilled a sense of justice and fairness in her that she was obligated to work towards. Like the victim or not.
"Just don't expect me to give you a flattering eulogy," she grinned.
"Well, if you find my dead body hidden in the dustiest corner of the library, my head bashed in with a candlestick, I'm inclined to suggest that Laurent is likely the guilty party." Having said it, Valentin couldn't quite suppress a shudder at the mental image. "I do hope should anyone be plotting my murder, they choose a much more expedient method."
He laughed, though, at the mention of a eulogy. "I expect something short and to the point. 'Thank Cita,' would probably appeal to the general sentiment, as well as to the religious portion of the family."
Damica thought about it for a moment. "You? Probably just poison your drink. Make sure you know where your bottles are coming from." As she smirked, she considering how paranoid that would make him, if he were really worried about it. She shrugged it off, though. "If Laurent's taken to violence against you, perhaps you should hone your self defence skills." She had to admit she had no idea on the abilities of her cousins, only speaking to them rarely and not keeping up with their dealings. But it was a reasonable suggestion to anyone getting into fist fights.
Snickering, she lifted a finger. "I think there'd be some with much more amusing things to say at your funeral." After a pause, during which she sipped her drink, she decided to change the subject. "Heard any interesting gossip, lately?" she asked.
Valentin sighed mournfully and finished his drink, eyeing the empty glass as if with suspicion. "Poison doesn't sound much better. I imagine something slow acting and painful. Better tasting than this, perhaps." Which didn't stop him from ordering a second.
When his new glass arrived, he swirled it around thoughtfully before sipping at it. It seemed mildly less offensive this time. "As for my ability to defend myself," he shrugged. "I suppose this is my punishment for never taking an interest beyond what was forced upon me." Valentin had been thinking of it before his cousin had seen fit to deck him, truth be told. The recent spate of violence in the city made him a bit uneasy. "Normally that's the sort of thing I'd rely on Laurent for, anyways." He chuckled. "But it seems that is terribly counteractive." He gave Damica a thoughtful look, then. "I don't suppose I could convince you, cousin..."
"Oh, certainly better tasting, since they'd be wanting to cater to your tastes to ensure you drank it." To hide another smirk, Damica lifted her tankard to her lips, sipping slowly.
As she set the drink back down, she eyed Valentin, clicking her tongue. "I'm a bit surprised they didn't force that on you. My brothers were trained to defend themselves from the moment they could stand. Though, they took to it better, I imagine." At the request, she tilted her head, brow arched. She considered. "Well, if you're looking for my help, you'll have to tell me exactly what it is you wish to learn. And how much you already know. I assume you at least know which end of a sword to stick 'em with, but what about your fists? Blocking blows without the use of a sword sounds like something you may wish to at least learn the basics of."
"Your confidence is overwhelming, cousin," he murmured, giving her a sideways look. But he smiled all the same. He had never been terribly interested in swords and scuffling. One could force a boy to lessons, but not force them to learn.
He'd come out of the lessons with good reflexes at least. Better than coming out covered in bruises and cuts.
"That sounds like it would be prudent to learn, at least."
Must of her youth had been spent scuffling and using sticks in place of swords, until she'd managed to convince one of her brothers to provide her with the real thing. As if that weren't enough, her time in the Guard had taught her much her brothers couldn't.
"Well," she said, toying a finger around the top of her mug. "Tonight's probably not good for it, but if you come by later in the week, I could at least try to teach you a thing or two." She'd spent a lot of time helping younger recruits learn basic combat, but to teach her cousin? Especially this one. It wasn't the same as teaching Adelle how to use a sword. "Worst case, you walk away with a few more bruises." She gave him a grin.
"So long as it's nothing more permanent than bruising..." Valentin returned the grin with one of his own, though perhaps fainter. "Write me when you have some time, then." He had more spare time than a man in his position had any right to, it seemed logical to work around Damica's schedule.
Damica's spare time was quickly filling up, it seemed. "I'll do my best not to break anything," she said, after a chuckle. "As soon as I can spare an evening, I'll let you know."
"I appreciate it." He meant it, though it was typically hard to tell when he was being sincere.
He spent a few more minutes considering his questionable drink, before polishing it off and rising to leave. "I suppose I ought to stop keeping you from your friends though, cousin." He paused, and gave her a questioning look. "Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Without waiting for a reply, he opened up his purse and starting counting out coins, before handing them over to his cousin. "I suggest you drink yourself blind, but what you do with it is really up to you." He shrugged, and gave her a smile.
That was certainly unexpected. Damica was stunned speechless, almost missing the chance to say, "Thank you, cousin," before he left. She hardly needed it, but she wasn't about to decline a gift from the great Valentin.
Without even counting, she tucked the coins away and settled back into her drinking. Eventually, a few of the guards that had fled earlier returned.
When: Saturday night (after a log that's still in the works)
Where: The Coil
Ratings & Warnings: PG-13 for talk of violence?
Valentin knew that there was a bar in particular that his cousin Damica frequented with the other members of the guard, and he even knew where it was. And if he’d rather be drinking at home, taking some of the especially good things out of his father’s cellar, well, he should’ve considered it before picking a fight with every other member of the family he was inclined to speak to.
Well, mostly Laurent.
So it was with a heavy purse and an aching jaw that he entered The Coil, and took a seat beside his cousin. “Congratulations,” he said, as he pulled out a few coins to get the attention of one of the serving staff. “You’ve been promoted to the office of my new favourite cousin.”
As soon as Valentin sat, the other guards Damica had been sitting with shuffled off to sit elsewhere. This, of course, made her give an exasperated sigh, but she then donned a familial smile as she turned to her relative.
"To what do I owe the delight of such a promotion, cousin?" she asked, before lifting her tankard to take a long pull from its contents. She was out of armour, thankfully, but still wore more manly clothing which included her sword belted to her hip.
"The others have been demoted," he replied, before ordering whatever passed for brandy in a place like this. "It's a dubious honour at best." Valentin smiled, though, swallowing the better part of his vitriol with a bit of brandy. Best if he could manage to get through the day with one relative who wasn't enraged with him.
When it came down to it, he was more afraid of a fight with Damica than he was of one with Laurent. Granted, he figured his chances for being punched by the member of the guard were much lower, at this point, than those of being punched by his nearly ever-present cousin.
"Ah," she said, setting her drink back down on the table. "Still at odds with the family, are we?" She gave a smirk and folded her arms on the tabletop, head veered sideways to eye Valentin. "Do you do this intentionally, or is it just something that happens?"
"Was I ever not, truly, Damica?" He shrugged, and held out his hands in a helpless gesture. "A bit of column A, a bit of column B, though, if I'm being honest." For once he hadn't been trying to start an argument with his father. Adelle and Laurent were another situation altogether, though. "Today was a bit strange, even for me."
That brought another smirk. "Strange for you would be not getting into a fight for a change. Have you ever tried it? I've noticed family tend to be more giving if you actually get along, even just once in a while." After she spoke, Damica lifted her drink to finish it off, then flagged someone down for a refill. While he drank brandy, or the closest thing they had to it, she stuck to the ale. She'd been nursing that last one for well over an hour, though family seemed to speed up her drinking. Funny, that.
"You know, it's very unbecoming to smile at the misfortunes of others, cousin." Valentin smiled at Damica all the same. It wasn't as if he wasn't guilty of that very thing, on a regular basis, after all. "But, in fact, I did my very best to avoid one just today. Unfortunately, but not unpredictably, even when I put a good effort into it I can't seem to avoid getting into shouting matches with the old man." Of course, the other fight he’d brought on himself, though perhaps he didn’t have the foresight to expect it.
"Last I checked, I had quite the reputation for unbecoming behaviour with our family." She gave him a grin. As her refill arrived, she handed the server the coins for it, then sipped at it. Fresh ale was always the best. "Just be glad I'm easier to get along with than most of the guards, or you'd wind up having to demote me, as well."
Valentin laughed quietly. "The only member of our family who doesn't have a reputation of some sort is Laurent. Although, perhaps he should." Oh, there were probably any number of other well-behaved cousins, but when you got to the size of the Vaux family, only those who particularly stood out for one reason or another tended to catch one's attention.
"In any case," Valentin said, "I assumed that even if you weren't happy to see me, you might pretend you were if I paid for drinks the rest of the night."
That made Damica give her own laugh, not nearly so quietly as Valentin's. "I can pretend even without the free drinks, but they'll certainly help." She gave him a look, curiosity combined with disbelief. "Though if you're so used to these fights, what was so special about today that you needed to escape and visit this place?" The Coil really didn't seem like his venue.
”I’m not terribly accustomed to being punched in the face,” he replied with a shrug. He took another sip of his drink, and made a face at it. It was awful, and yet he couldn’t be bothered to stop, or change it for something more palatable. “I’d rather leave the physical fighting to you and yours, but apparently that wasn’t in the cards today.”
She pointed at her cousin's drink. "Not quite what you're used to?" she asked, snickering. Yes, she was going to laugh at his misfortune. Because it was funny. And pretending it was the drink she was snickering at, and not the 'punched in the face' part, made it less likely this would wind up a fight, as well. Once her snicker settled and she managed to put on a (reasonably) straight face, she added, "You ever consider taking up acting? I'm sure you could find a suitable teacher. It would make dealing with relatives easier. And less likely to result in face punching." Of course, she had to snicker then. So much for that.
"Your bar is terrible," he told her, plainly. "If not for your excellent company, this wouldn't be my first choice. As for the acting..." He shrugged, smiling a bit ruefully. "Well, this being punched in the face idiocy is a first, truth be told. Laurent usually backs down before he gets that angry."
"Only because you're not used to it. It's one of those things that needs to grow on you." She sipped at her own drink, smirking, and gave him a surprised look. "First time? Well, congratulations on your first cousin-punch, cousin." She lifted her glass to give a meager salute before chugging back some more of the frothy ale. "At least you survived. T'would be such a shame to have to attend a funeral this week." What with her birthday coming up and all.
"Your sympathy is truly overwhelming, Damica," he murmured in a deadpan tone, taking another sip of the truly awful brandy. "I'm certain you'd be affected not at all if I were to keel over dead tomorrow." Not that he resented her that. Most of the family would be relatively unaffected, except for whatever poor sap found himself next in line to inherit.
Laurent probably.
Valentin winced, and took a longer drink this time. "But I suppose you'd be obligated to oversee the formalities. Perhaps someone would ask you to investigate." His tone spoke volumes: no one, he expected, actually would.
Damica shrugged. "As much as I may not consider you my favorite relative, I would still feel inclined to investigate. You are still family." It really was mostly her parents and sister that she despised. The rest of the Vaux family were, well, unpleasant, but still family. She supposed.
Not to mention being a member of the Guard instilled a sense of justice and fairness in her that she was obligated to work towards. Like the victim or not.
"Just don't expect me to give you a flattering eulogy," she grinned.
"Well, if you find my dead body hidden in the dustiest corner of the library, my head bashed in with a candlestick, I'm inclined to suggest that Laurent is likely the guilty party." Having said it, Valentin couldn't quite suppress a shudder at the mental image. "I do hope should anyone be plotting my murder, they choose a much more expedient method."
He laughed, though, at the mention of a eulogy. "I expect something short and to the point. 'Thank Cita,' would probably appeal to the general sentiment, as well as to the religious portion of the family."
Damica thought about it for a moment. "You? Probably just poison your drink. Make sure you know where your bottles are coming from." As she smirked, she considering how paranoid that would make him, if he were really worried about it. She shrugged it off, though. "If Laurent's taken to violence against you, perhaps you should hone your self defence skills." She had to admit she had no idea on the abilities of her cousins, only speaking to them rarely and not keeping up with their dealings. But it was a reasonable suggestion to anyone getting into fist fights.
Snickering, she lifted a finger. "I think there'd be some with much more amusing things to say at your funeral." After a pause, during which she sipped her drink, she decided to change the subject. "Heard any interesting gossip, lately?" she asked.
Valentin sighed mournfully and finished his drink, eyeing the empty glass as if with suspicion. "Poison doesn't sound much better. I imagine something slow acting and painful. Better tasting than this, perhaps." Which didn't stop him from ordering a second.
When his new glass arrived, he swirled it around thoughtfully before sipping at it. It seemed mildly less offensive this time. "As for my ability to defend myself," he shrugged. "I suppose this is my punishment for never taking an interest beyond what was forced upon me." Valentin had been thinking of it before his cousin had seen fit to deck him, truth be told. The recent spate of violence in the city made him a bit uneasy. "Normally that's the sort of thing I'd rely on Laurent for, anyways." He chuckled. "But it seems that is terribly counteractive." He gave Damica a thoughtful look, then. "I don't suppose I could convince you, cousin..."
"Oh, certainly better tasting, since they'd be wanting to cater to your tastes to ensure you drank it." To hide another smirk, Damica lifted her tankard to her lips, sipping slowly.
As she set the drink back down, she eyed Valentin, clicking her tongue. "I'm a bit surprised they didn't force that on you. My brothers were trained to defend themselves from the moment they could stand. Though, they took to it better, I imagine." At the request, she tilted her head, brow arched. She considered. "Well, if you're looking for my help, you'll have to tell me exactly what it is you wish to learn. And how much you already know. I assume you at least know which end of a sword to stick 'em with, but what about your fists? Blocking blows without the use of a sword sounds like something you may wish to at least learn the basics of."
"Your confidence is overwhelming, cousin," he murmured, giving her a sideways look. But he smiled all the same. He had never been terribly interested in swords and scuffling. One could force a boy to lessons, but not force them to learn.
He'd come out of the lessons with good reflexes at least. Better than coming out covered in bruises and cuts.
"That sounds like it would be prudent to learn, at least."
Must of her youth had been spent scuffling and using sticks in place of swords, until she'd managed to convince one of her brothers to provide her with the real thing. As if that weren't enough, her time in the Guard had taught her much her brothers couldn't.
"Well," she said, toying a finger around the top of her mug. "Tonight's probably not good for it, but if you come by later in the week, I could at least try to teach you a thing or two." She'd spent a lot of time helping younger recruits learn basic combat, but to teach her cousin? Especially this one. It wasn't the same as teaching Adelle how to use a sword. "Worst case, you walk away with a few more bruises." She gave him a grin.
"So long as it's nothing more permanent than bruising..." Valentin returned the grin with one of his own, though perhaps fainter. "Write me when you have some time, then." He had more spare time than a man in his position had any right to, it seemed logical to work around Damica's schedule.
Damica's spare time was quickly filling up, it seemed. "I'll do my best not to break anything," she said, after a chuckle. "As soon as I can spare an evening, I'll let you know."
"I appreciate it." He meant it, though it was typically hard to tell when he was being sincere.
He spent a few more minutes considering his questionable drink, before polishing it off and rising to leave. "I suppose I ought to stop keeping you from your friends though, cousin." He paused, and gave her a questioning look. "Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Without waiting for a reply, he opened up his purse and starting counting out coins, before handing them over to his cousin. "I suggest you drink yourself blind, but what you do with it is really up to you." He shrugged, and gave her a smile.
That was certainly unexpected. Damica was stunned speechless, almost missing the chance to say, "Thank you, cousin," before he left. She hardly needed it, but she wasn't about to decline a gift from the great Valentin.
Without even counting, she tucked the coins away and settled back into her drinking. Eventually, a few of the guards that had fled earlier returned.