In which Nabooru became the worst influence ever.
Who: Nabooru, you, you, you, some more you's, oh - maybe you, too
When: Oct. 14 - Evening ~ Late Night
What: It's a shindig. No, seriously. Nabs wanted everyone to get together for drinks. (And she's inconspicuously trying to force Byrne into being more sociable.) And by everyone, we do mean everyone of age.
Where: This... here tavern in FDC. No, ( Read more... )
When: Oct. 14 - Evening ~ Late Night
What: It's a shindig. No, seriously. Nabs wanted everyone to get together for drinks. (And she's inconspicuously trying to force Byrne into being more sociable.) And by everyone, we do mean everyone of age.
Where: This... here tavern in FDC. No, ( Read more... )
He wasn't much of one for parties nor did he intend to spend much time socializing. A few pints downed and he'd be on his way. But it would have been outright rude to refuse the invitation completely.
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She was more here for socializing purposes than actual alcohol, and she decides to bug him first. It waaaas some time since she saw him and spoke, and since knowing of their little connection; well, she was going to go and talk with him or something. Taking a seat right beside him, she just sort of gave a small to him.
"Hello."
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He turned in his stool a little to look at her. Still as foxy as ever. He hadn't sought her out after their meeting not long after his first arrival and he had to wonder why not.
"Oi. Barkeep. Another Guiness and whatever the Lady is having, alright?"
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Then turned her attention to Jon. "I wanted to get out a bit more, I haven't been socializing nearly as much as I wished." Which was... sadly true. "So... How've you been?"
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Of course, Krystal, he could write the book on Not Socializing. The only thing that got him out here this evening was free booze and a desire not to be rude to the lady who had offered to teach him some blade skills.
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Behind her was Byrne, who was growing increasingly frustrated, she imagined. She had promised to make it as painless as possible, and unfortunately, she didn't know who all Byrne had met. For all she knew, she was introducing him to people he already knew. Shameful.
"Hello," she greeted Jon with a bit of a smile. Glass in hand, she sipped from her disaronno sour, which was the only thing she'd been drinking for the entire night. Well, she lost count after about five glasses of the same thing.
"Would you care to meet a friend of mine, Jon? I'm trying to help him mesh in well with the academy and the people here?"
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He looked past her to where Byrne was.
"We've already met. He's the Martial Arts professor. I'm his best student."
Of course, Byrne had never said as such - this was entirely Jon's interpretation of the skill levels of his peers. Bulba was alright. That little red thing from Football seemed to have some skill. Everyone else was rubbish, so far as Jon was concerned.
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"Though you should not outright proclaim yourself as the 'best.'" Ego control was a fine thing, though Byrne had his own ego when it came to physical combat skills. He was being a bit of a hypocrite, it seemed.
However, Jon was the most promising one in his class, he had to admit. Bulba had held his own and showed some skill, but it was Jon who impressed him the most. Well, Byrne wasn't "impressed" per se, but whatever was was the closest feeling to it would have to do.
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Byrne's comment caused Nabooru to look at him and she tipped her head. You just did not. Except you did. You know very well you want to say that you're the best. I know it.
Then she brightened up with the option to inflate Byrne's ego a little. "Jon was interested in taking some lessons in sword mastery from me, but Byrne, I'm sure your ability for combat is actually much better than mine." She looked over to Jon, "You couldn't have a better instructor. I hope you don't give him too much trouble."
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Jon was a bragger. He could get into trash-talk territory if it ever came down to it. He wasn't shy about his strength and skill and so far as he cared, he had no reason to be. If someone wanted to challenge him on it? He wasn't going to back down, either.
He had to admit he was dissapointed at Nabooru handling off his lessons to Byrne, though. He'd much sooner be hacked at by a pretty lady than a grumpy guy in a face scarf. Still, it was fight training. Not Oogling 101.
"If you think you can handle me for two classes. Though you're actually going to have to pick up a blade and fight me if you train me with a sword, Chum."
Considering he had yet to see Byrne do anything of the sort in class, and hadn't spotted him in the Gym or training anywhere he'd been.
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"However, if you are so insistent on your skill, I suppose we'll have to have a match sometime."
The only reason Byrne did not spar with Jon himself in his class is because he knew that he was far superior to his student in skill. He just had to be. So, he had to even out the playing field and pit a student against a student.
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Nabooru nodded and quieted herself when she heard Byrne continue. That made her want to smile a little bit more. There. A spar. That was much better. Right up Byrne's alley, too.
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"In fact, I may be able to teach you a thing or two."
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"If you had something to teach me," he commented instead, "Then why are you taking my class?
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For a few more Disaronno Sours. Which was precisely what she moved to do.
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He took another sip of his drink. "Trust me, Son. I've fought far fiercer things than most folk can conceive of, let alone raise a hand against."
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