[ Honestly, none of this is terrible. Four Eyes might have had, in her opinion, a boring life, but he's half again more tolerable than many of the people she's had to deal with during her time in the Imperial Army.
[There's a brief pause at the question- just a slightly, half-moment's hesitation in fork-to-mouth movement, as though swiftly making a decision. Better not to lie to her, he imagines.]
Well- the recipe called for a quarter-cup of ground locusts to add texture and protein to the sauce, but of course I had to substitute that.
[Another moment as he finished his mouthful, and finally shrugs a shoulder, fully anticipating getting a heel to the ribs in a moment.]
[ As he's talking, her own fork is halfway to her mouth...
With a sound (and almost ominous) clink, the very same utensil is set back down onto the plate. Her expression is inarguably serious and a bit severe as she stares at him. She never made him promise not to feed her bugs, per se, but that's only because it never occurred to her. Because she is a sane individual.
For several seconds, silence looms. And then: ]
Okay. I think it's time we set some ground rules for this little arrangement of ours.
[He would have preferred to be kicked, to be quiet honest.
He frowns, slightly- Sure, he knows everyone has had their own personal hangups over one of the main ingredients used in daily cooking here being insects, rather than meat from larger creatures- but that was just a part of life here. And it wasn't as though they were large, dirty grubs shoves gracelessly into the meal!
A swallow, and he wishes they had managed to scrounge for some wine. Or anything that would ease some of the sting of the conversation they have to have now.]
[ Her husky drawl is as confident as ever. She doesn't continue eating quite yet, though - whether or not that's reluctance or just theatrics is yet to be determined. ]
I get the bugs. Doesn't mean I wanna know they're there. Keep me ignorant, Four Eyes. Just tell me it's chicken next time.
[He listens, and it's fair enough. She can eat them, so long as she isn't aware. Something he can respect, even if she's giving him blanket permission to lie in regards to any insect-additions to foodstuffs. Unlike Aranea, though, he's clearly not bothered by the food.]
...Very well. What sort of penalties? Or would that be dependent on the specific delinquency?
[He shifts his legs slightly, sitting back against the couch, now that he's not worried about getting a foot in his side.]
As for three: No retroactive penalties. No one can be expected to adhere to a rule that didn't exist. And I suggest that four is that rules can be added, removed, or revised by any party at any time, provided they both agree to it.
[ A firm, agreeable nod. Aranea once again drowns the, uh, meat in the sauce before taking a bite. There's no crunch, which is good. She probably would have thought too hard about her meal if there turned out to be a crunch. ]
Penalties are assigned after an infraction, but all parties have to agree. [ Beat. ] That's you an' me.
[ She gestures lazily toward her meal. ]
For this, I'll give you a get-out-of-jail-free card. No penalties tonight.
[Hey, it's still meat, ok. Well, fish. But there's just a little extra something to it. But yes, at least there's no crunch where there shouldn't be crunches. Though that does give ideas for adding some to breading and crusts--]
Agreed. [If he'd had a drink, he'd lift it in a half-toast of agreement.] And I appreciate your generosity in not already breaking the aforementioned third rule after my initial breaking of the first.
[There's a small smile at that, and he glances down at his own meal.] Speaking of the food- do you have any preferences of your own? I imagine you can't be terribly choosey in the military, but if you could be?
[ Trained, left, went back... It just feels important to point out. Her life has straddled the line of mercenary work and military discipline, often depending on her whims and the benefit of an established paygrade versus the benefits of freelance work.
As for his question? ]
Always preferred fish to fowl. Anything deep fried is good by me, too. [ A thoughtful little pause. ] Not much of a girl for greens. Always felt salad was like bird food. Maybe you could change my mind.
[He's at least started to notice her dry, one-line comments in regards to her time before their meeting- and while he's sure she would outright tell him if he was treading too close to uncomfortable subjects, or asking too many nosy questions, he can at least take something of a hint and back off.
Besides, learning about someone's tastes is much more interesting.]
I'm certain there's some way they could be prepared to your liking. I'm not sure how much of a variety there is here, but different types have all different tastes, as well.
[There's a bit of a proud smile at the half-challenge of 'changing her mind' about it. Look he's gotta take his wins where he can, and this is something he's absolutely comfortable in.] Perhaps I'll try that next: something palatable but vegetarian.
[ Another long, condemning pause. He doesn't crack, damn him, so she eases up. ]
Fine. In that case, penalties for each pun... let's say one fourth an infraction. Every four puns I have to listen to, you have to do somethin' for me.
[He thinks on that for a moment. Takes a bite of his own salmon(?)-and-cricket dinner as he considers. Aranea seems insistent on penalties for puns-- pressing for free rein on them may ruin this entire arrangement they have. And a favour for each fourth doesn't sound too terrible.]
Each one directed towards you, or that you're aware of? Do conversations with others publically available on the network count? Or those spoken to another while you're present?
Network doesn't count unless we're both already in the conversation. I'm not gonna penalise you for shit you say when you think I'm not 'round. Otherwise, if you know I'm in earshot—
[Which isn't wrong at all. After all, can't let himself or Noct enter into any nasty arrangements or treaties or anything of the sort, right?
Another thoughtful noise, and:]
If I know your in an earshot. You're opening yourself up to my making cases that I wasn't aware of whether or not you could hear me, or were paying attention. That would make it rather difficult to enforce punishment.
[You know what? He deserved that. And can't even be mad when that kick finally comes- as his hands are full of plate and utensils, he can't do much more than lift then to keep them from spilling everywhere as he spills onto the floor, laughing as he accepts it.]
You know, we hadn't agreed to the rules yet. And that was only two. Rather Pre-emptive penance, there.
[There's only a little spilled, and he'll set the plate down and immediately start picking up the stray bits of vegetables or small fish bones that had been left in the cut, still with that stupid self-satisfied smile.]
[ Drawing her legs up underneath her, Aranea resumes a more stately sprawl. Half of the couch is still given up for him, though, regardless or whether or not he's on the floor. ]
That wasn't a sanctioned penalty, that was a crime of passion.
[ She adds, referring to kicking him off the couch. As her smile indicates, Aranea's too pleased with herself. They're rather alike, in that regard. ]
[He dumps the floor-scraps to the edge of the plate, well away from the remnants of the rest of his meal. He'll pick them up, but he absolutely does not trust the floor in an apartment this cheap, in a world that may very well have illnesses they've never encountered on Eos. No thank you, floor-food.
Instead he'll shove himself up from the floor, walking around the couch to set his plate down on the counter- typically he'd go ahead and wash it now, but he'll wait until the end and do it and the pans he'd cooked with all at once, instead just giving another short chuckle at Aranea's comments.]
Not too often? [A click of the tongue and he shakes his head as he comes back to the couch.] You shouldn't make promises you can't keep either. Especially if you loathe what a pundit I can be.
[ok thats the last one for now promise.]
But alright. I agree. If for no other reason than your sanity.
[ Aranea makes a bit of a face at the pundit remark but otherwise lets it lie. Seeing that he's finished his dinner, with her plate in a similar state, she exercises especially less care and just leaves her dirty plate on the coffee table. ]
The whole night? Such generosity. [There's another small laugh there- and as she's done, he'll recover her plate as well, returning to the kitchen to start doing the minimal dishes, packing away the small amount left. Might as well get it out of the way while it's still easy to do.]
I suppose if that's the case, I can't be expected to refuse.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Honestly, none of this is terrible. Four Eyes might have had, in her opinion, a boring life, but he's half again more tolerable than many of the people she's had to deal with during her time in the Imperial Army.
Although... ]
What's in this, though? You never told me.
[ danger, danger ]
no subject
Well- the recipe called for a quarter-cup of ground locusts to add texture and protein to the sauce, but of course I had to substitute that.
[Another moment as he finished his mouthful, and finally shrugs a shoulder, fully anticipating getting a heel to the ribs in a moment.]
The crickets were cheaper.
no subject
With a sound (and almost ominous) clink, the very same utensil is set back down onto the plate. Her expression is inarguably serious and a bit severe as she stares at him. She never made him promise not to feed her bugs, per se, but that's only because it never occurred to her. Because she is a sane individual.
For several seconds, silence looms. And then: ]
Okay. I think it's time we set some ground rules for this little arrangement of ours.
no subject
He frowns, slightly- Sure, he knows everyone has had their own personal hangups over one of the main ingredients used in daily cooking here being insects, rather than meat from larger creatures- but that was just a part of life here. And it wasn't as though they were large, dirty grubs shoves gracelessly into the meal!
A swallow, and he wishes they had managed to scrounge for some wine. Or anything that would ease some of the sting of the conversation they have to have now.]
...Alright. Go ahead.
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[ Her husky drawl is as confident as ever. She doesn't continue eating quite yet, though - whether or not that's reluctance or just theatrics is yet to be determined. ]
I get the bugs. Doesn't mean I wanna know they're there. Keep me ignorant, Four Eyes. Just tell me it's chicken next time.
[ Did he think he was getting off easy? Well -- ]
Two. Penalty for infractions.
no subject
...Very well. What sort of penalties? Or would that be dependent on the specific delinquency?
[He shifts his legs slightly, sitting back against the couch, now that he's not worried about getting a foot in his side.]
As for three: No retroactive penalties. No one can be expected to adhere to a rule that didn't exist. And I suggest that four is that rules can be added, removed, or revised by any party at any time, provided they both agree to it.
no subject
[ A firm, agreeable nod. Aranea once again drowns the, uh, meat in the sauce before taking a bite. There's no crunch, which is good. She probably would have thought too hard about her meal if there turned out to be a crunch. ]
Penalties are assigned after an infraction, but all parties have to agree. [ Beat. ] That's you an' me.
[ She gestures lazily toward her meal. ]
For this, I'll give you a get-out-of-jail-free card. No penalties tonight.
no subject
Agreed. [If he'd had a drink, he'd lift it in a half-toast of agreement.] And I appreciate your generosity in not already breaking the aforementioned third rule after my initial breaking of the first.
[There's a small smile at that, and he glances down at his own meal.] Speaking of the food- do you have any preferences of your own? I imagine you can't be terribly choosey in the military, but if you could be?
no subject
[ Trained, left, went back... It just feels important to point out. Her life has straddled the line of mercenary work and military discipline, often depending on her whims and the benefit of an established paygrade versus the benefits of freelance work.
As for his question? ]
Always preferred fish to fowl. Anything deep fried is good by me, too. [ A thoughtful little pause. ] Not much of a girl for greens. Always felt salad was like bird food. Maybe you could change my mind.
no subject
Besides, learning about someone's tastes is much more interesting.]
I'm certain there's some way they could be prepared to your liking. I'm not sure how much of a variety there is here, but different types have all different tastes, as well.
[There's a bit of a proud smile at the half-challenge of 'changing her mind' about it. Look he's gotta take his wins where he can, and this is something he's absolutely comfortable in.] Perhaps I'll try that next: something palatable but vegetarian.
And then you won't have anything bugging you.
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Rule 4.
[ Look at what you did, Ignis. ]
No puns.
no subject
I can't in good conscious agree to a rule I'm destined to break.
no subject
Fine. In that case, penalties for each pun... let's say one fourth an infraction. Every four puns I have to listen to, you have to do somethin' for me.
[ That's reasonable, right? ]
no subject
Each one directed towards you, or that you're aware of? Do conversations with others publically available on the network count? Or those spoken to another while you're present?
[look he needs details before agreeing.]
no subject
[ She takes another moment to think this out. ]
Network doesn't count unless we're both already in the conversation. I'm not gonna penalise you for shit you say when you think I'm not 'round. Otherwise, if you know I'm in earshot—
[ It counts. ]
no subject
[Which isn't wrong at all. After all, can't let himself or Noct enter into any nasty arrangements or treaties or anything of the sort, right?
Another thoughtful noise, and:]
If I know your in an earshot. You're opening yourself up to my making cases that I wasn't aware of whether or not you could hear me, or were paying attention. That would make it rather difficult to enforce punishment.
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... Hopefully he can hold onto his plate. ]
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You know, we hadn't agreed to the rules yet. And that was only two. Rather Pre-emptive penance, there.
[There's only a little spilled, and he'll set the plate down and immediately start picking up the stray bits of vegetables or small fish bones that had been left in the cut, still with that stupid self-satisfied smile.]
Does this mean the next two are free?
no subject
[ Drawing her legs up underneath her, Aranea resumes a more stately sprawl. Half of the couch is still given up for him, though, regardless or whether or not he's on the floor. ]
That wasn't a sanctioned penalty, that was a crime of passion.
[ She adds, referring to kicking him off the couch. As her smile indicates, Aranea's too pleased with herself. They're rather alike, in that regard. ]
Don't worry, that won't happen too often.
no subject
Instead he'll shove himself up from the floor, walking around the couch to set his plate down on the counter- typically he'd go ahead and wash it now, but he'll wait until the end and do it and the pans he'd cooked with all at once, instead just giving another short chuckle at Aranea's comments.]
Not too often? [A click of the tongue and he shakes his head as he comes back to the couch.] You shouldn't make promises you can't keep either. Especially if you loathe what a pundit I can be.
[ok thats the last one for now promise.]
But alright. I agree. If for no other reason than your sanity.
no subject
So?
You stayin' the night or what?
[ Romance lives. ]
no subject
The whole night? Such generosity. [There's another small laugh there- and as she's done, he'll recover her plate as well, returning to the kitchen to start doing the minimal dishes, packing away the small amount left. Might as well get it out of the way while it's still easy to do.]
I suppose if that's the case, I can't be expected to refuse.