ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ: ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ discussion

Mod

Sebastain was sweating on one of the benches, waving goodbye to his trainees after a long session. Yes, sword fighting was typically his most tiring activity he taught, but today it was worse with the sun beating down on them after it had rained that night, making it humid and slightly muddy. The poor guy had already slipped twice.

But thankfully, it was his last thing to do that day, his archery classes already over, and his mothers not needing any help in the bakery today. Seb poured a little water on his head to cool down, not caring that it soaked some of his shirt (which was already covered in sweat to begin with). Even though the weather was sticky, he was thankful for the sun beating down on him. Sunshine was never something he complained about or took for granted- the tan it gave him also helped with the gratitude.

During the session, he had noticed a man walking around the park. Dark hair, sharp features, brooding around the place. He hadn't left since he arrived, and Sebastain was starting to keep more of an eye on him. Maybe he wanted to join but was too shy? Or maybe he knew one of the people training?

The second option wasn't likely since he was still there, and all of the trainees had left. Still, Sebastain didn't consider him having any bad intentions, keeping up his everlasting optimism. Seb would go up himself, but he didn't want to make him nervous or scare him away. The trainer towered over people at a height of 6'6, muscles from hours of training. Not to mention, he was disgusting and sweaty at the moment, so it wouldn't be his most professional meeting.

His mind drifted from the man to his mothers. Sebastain had become increasingly worried over the past few weeks for them. The riots had increased, which caused an increase in Crimson soldiers around town, and harsher rules. More and more people were losing hope in the Royals, causing people to switch sides, and maybe even turn over people. Sebastain was one of the few people that knew about how his parents hid loyalists away from the Crimson's, Two, maybe three others were aware of the illegal activity, but it only took one person to blab, and then they were all done for.

And what worried him even more was that he was worried in the first place. Sebastain always tried to hope for the best and look on the bright side of things. He was always an 'innocent until proven guilty' kind of person, but when it came to his mothers, that mentality always wavered, their safety coming before seeing the good in people.

Despite all of the ways the operation could go wrong, the trickiest part of all of it was dealing with his own guilt. Sebastian hated lying in any capacity. Withholding things from anyone wasn't in his bones. He just didn't see the point in it. When people would ask if he could keep a secret for them, he would simply say he couldn't, and the go on with his life. But he would do anything for his parents. Even if it meant feeling a little guilty.

After that train of thought passed by, Seb gazed over at the flowers, bright and full. The water was beautiful, causing a nice rushing noise that made it hard not to relax. And then, as he was carefree, looking upon the beauty of the word, he saw that man again. Still there. And even though he was a fundamentally trusting person, he couldn't help but be on guard a little. He was most likely harmless, but these days, you never knew who you could trust to be peaceful. Unless, of course, you were Sebastain Knott, in which case you would trust everyone. So, he relaxed as soon as he tensed, ignoring the man, even if he was curious.

Really curious.

Illio paced the borders of the training yard, doing his best to look nonchalant. He'd spent the day on the edges of the muddy yard, staying away from the sparring partners and doing his best to keep his eye on the mark.

The man wasn't technically a mark yet as Illio was yet to formally accept the assignment, but Illio had arrived bright and early at the training yard, to get a read of the man and formulate his potential approach before accepting the offer. It was an offer he was inclined to accept, if only because the client had proven to be reliable before.

He was fairly sure the client was a Crimson supporter, but the lines between the sides had blurred in the past years. Everyone needed information on everyone's side, even their own. Illio wasn't about to start questioning motives now. Not when his pockets were lined and he had a tight roof over his head each night.

He thought back to the room he would be returning to tonight, tucked in a small complex of rooms to rent. He'd been there for a few months now, one of the longer stays in the past year or so. Now that the outright fighting had almost died down, he was less worried about suspicions of his other work. His clients knew better than to cross him due to the collateral he slowly but surely collected before accepting any mission.

Anything they thought they might have on him, he had double that over their heads. He was a professional and that was how the cookie tended to crumble.

Finally, as the trainees filtered off towards whatever their evening plans were, Illio made his decision. Tugging at the base of his sleeves he straightened, going over the plan he'd slowly been calculating. He forced his face out of it's default glower, doing his best to look slightly awestruck and somewhat anxious. He walked towards the mark, who was sitting on one of the benches and faltered a moment before clearing his throat.

Mod

Sebastain's little daydreams faded away as the man approached. He could see he had brown eyes and a thin frame, shorter than Sebastian (though most people were). He immediately adjusted in his seat, fighting to keep a smile down. So, the man did want to talk! Seb was so busy, he rarely found time to meet new people, so when he did it was always a joy. As always, the small bout of insecurity rose up. He was sweaty, probably smelled awful, and his hair was messy and unstyled from the hours of training. But it's not like the man would walk away from him just because he didn't look presentable, right? He continued to be anxious until the man cleared his throat, and Seb realized he was right in front of him.

A smile grew. "Hello. I'm Sebastian." He stood and held out his hand. "I noticed you were looking at the training session. Did you enjoy it?" That was all he allowed himself to say before forcing his mouth shut. Let him introduce himself before you ask a million questions. He always had a tendency to over ask as well as overshare, and the man in front of him already looked like he was ready to run away at full speed. He didn't need to be a nuisance within five seconds of meeting a person.

Illio brushed a loose strand of hair away from his face and wrung his hands together before examining the offered hand for a moment. Realizing it might be perceived wrong if he continued to stare, he shook his head, taking the hand and shaking. "It's good to meet you, Sebastian." he said, keeping his handshake light, his palm barely brushing against the other man's callused hand. "The training session was quite..." he trailed off, projecting the image of searching for an appropriate word.

"Enlightening." he finished, not quite a lie. It was funny to him, how much he could say of half truths while painting a completely fictional world. "But you seem quite a competent trainer." Flattery always tended to go over well, especially for teachers of various skills.

"I've never undergone any formal training-" truth depending on what one qualified as formal training "-and have been looking for instructors. I asked around and everyone I spoke to directed me to you. I thought I'd come watch in person."

Mod

Sebastain rocked back and forth on his heals, smiling as the man talked. His grin only became larger as he talked, a warmth spreading. He had no idea people thought of him so highly as a trainer. Damn, this day just got a whole lot better. He knew he was good, but Seb never thought himself quite so exceptional. "I appreciate the sentiment," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Any previous insecurity disappeared, replaced with a soft sort of pride and happiness that he was helping people so much.

"I'd be more than happy to help instruct you," he said, dimples showing as he beamed. "May I ask your name?" Most of the people he taught hadn't had much training, so it wasn't anything new that he hadn't learned much. While he did teach intermediate classes, his class mostly consisted of people who wanted to defend themselves. Nowadays, that was a skill most people needed.

The strange thing about this man was that he hadn't ever seen him before. Despite his constant dumbness, Seb thought himself very good at remembering people. And while he didn't know every single person in the kingdom, he thought to have known most of the people around where he lived. But it didn't make sense that this man would have moved here- people were moving out more than moving in, as of late. But he didn't want to pry, since there were many reasons he could have moved. Either that, or he just didn't get out much, and Sebastain had just never met him.

Maybe he moved from another, more dangerous part of the kingdom. Maybe he was with the crimson's and recently moved here. And plus, they were meeting now, which was the important thing. He'd met people who hates the formalities of meeting other for the first time. Small talk and all of that boring stuff. But Sebastain was the opposite. He loved slowly getting to know a person, breaking down their walls bit by bit. And sometimes, the weather was an interesting topic!

But maybe he should start with learning this man's name.

Illio considered Sebastian for a moment, eyes flicking over him. While he had intentionally been using praise to put the other man at ease, even he was shocked at how well friendliness worked sometimes. Flattery sometimes was a more effective weapon than intimidation, a lesson Illio was slowly but surely learning.

The warm swell of victory settled in Illio's chest as the other man agreed to instruction, already planning when and how he'd meet his client to accept the assignment. "Wonderful." he said, forcing his face into a relieved smile. "I'm Lucien." His middle name was common enough to be easily forgotten, so he tried to use it for every few missions. It was easier than trying to keep dozens of identities straight. "I hate to bring it up, but what are the fees you charge for training?" Illio wanted to know, if only to up the client's fee.

Mod

Sebastain wasn't as affected by the flattery as Illio seemed to think. Like most people, he assumed Sebastain was this friendly because he wanted something from them, or because of something they said. He's actually this friendly all the time, to everyone he meet (though the flattery certainly helped). The compliment most certainly made him happy, but it didn't make him favor the man any more or less. Seb had learned to expect kindness from people since he expected kindness from himself.

"Nice to meet you, Lucien," he said, nodding in acknowledgment. "Prices vary based on the customer. It depends how intensive they want their training, and what kind of situation they're in money wise. I mean, the usual price for regular is sixty-five an hour, but if you're struggling with stuff like that, I'll adjust it." He wasn't an asshole after all. Defending yourself is a must nowadays, and he did his best to make sure it's accessible for everyone.

"Intensive one on one training is a bit pricier, but again adjustable." Sebastain reminded himself again to stop talking and let the man speak. It was a constant ringing in his head, a reminder to stop being so annoying and chatty, a reminder to let people breath, let them have space, let them not spiral into anxiety because you answered a fucking question. There's a difference between talking and over-talking, and Sebastain hadn't crossed it yet.

Despite the constant gogogo of his thoughts, Seb prided himself on his ability to follow conversations well. It's ADHD, he supposed. Multitasking was fairly easy, as long as he was able to stay focused on those tasks. If he didn't, then both of the things he was doing were fucked until he stopped re-organizing the closet or something and remembered to actually do his job. But right now, there were not closets, so he was just listening to Lucien.

Illio nodded, tilting his head slightly as he listened to Sebastian rattle off the prices of his training. He glanced up at the rapidly darkening sky for a moment, checking the watch on his wrist and pursing his lips. “You know what, it’s getting late and I wouldn’t want to hold up. Is there somewhere I could find you once I’ve reached my decision?” Illio asked, feigning concern. “I don’t mean to impose on you and I’m sure you have somewhere to be…”

He trailed off, looking up at Sebastian and blinking. It may be to good to be true, but sometimes the direct approach was easier than having marks question why an overly eager client was following them home. The sun had already started to sink towards the horizon, streaking the sky golden.

Mod

Sebastain hadn't even noticed how late it was getting. I guess training went overtime. "Of course, of course! No pressure at all," he assured him. "Well, I work here during the day. I live around town, so I suppose I could give you my address, but I'd most likely be at my mothers' bakery during the night." He shuffled through his bag and held out a piece of paper, writing down the addresses. "Here. I'd most likely be at one of those places. If not, I'd be around town with friends, but that could honestly be anywhere. Best to wait until I'm in one of those three locations."

Sebastain held it out to him, a warm smile plastered on his face. Well, plastered implies that the smile was forced, but Sebastain hasn't ever faked an emotion in his life. His face was a perfect reflection of how he actually felt, hiding nothing from anyone who could understand even the slightest bit of the concept of human emotion. "Do you know when I should expect you?"

Ilio pursed his lips for a moment, tucking his watch back underneath his sleeve. He accepted the folded slip of paper from Sebastian, running his fingers along the crisp edge. “Thank you then. I will be sure to look to you as soon as I confirm I am able. I simply need to run home and check my timetable.” He said, tucking the sheet of paper in his pocket. The man’s smile was the closest thing to infectious Illio had run across, and he allowed it to draw a small grateful smile onto his face.

That much about the timetable was a lie of course. Illio wasn’t foolish enough to keep a proper timetable of his activities lest someone take it upon themselves to go through his belongings. The one sitting on his rickety desk was simply full of drab notes and false events, a paper trail to nowhere.

“I do hope to see you soon sir, I can’t imagine I’ll get to you any later than tomorrow evening.” He dipped his head, a lock of hair falling over into his face. He’d left his coat at home due to the bright Sun that had warmed the day, but the temperature was dropping rapidly and his fingers were already becoming chalky with the cold. “I apologize again for my intrusion”

Mod

It was quickly getting dark, but Sebastain didn’t mind too much. His house wasn’t too far from where they were. Still, things were getting more and more unstable around here. Taking chances could mean signing your death warrant. “Sounds wonderful,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him. “I hope to see you soon, Lucien.” Seb bid the man goodbye and started on his walk home.

Lucien seemed nice. He was a bit odd, but isn’t everyone a little bit odd in their own way? Lucien’s oddness gave Seb an uneasy feeling, but he threw the feeling away, dismissing it with the ominous way he watched the session mixed with the ever-darkening sky. His mothers were getting to him. Always the worriers, always so secretive with everyone, even him sometimes. He’d been raised to be wary of everyone he met, but that always seemed to push people away. Sebastian had been living his life the opposite way, and he’d survived twenty-three years with no problem.

Sebastian made him way to his house, walking a little quicker so as to not get stuck outside in the dark. His neighborhood was safer than most, but that doesn’t mean it was relatively safe. Oh, he loved and trusted the neighbors, but they weren’t the problem. It was the people that came out at night, the ones who weren’t welcome, who didn’t want to be welcome. They were what he escaped when he locked his doors for the night.

Ilio watched Sebastian go, resisting the urge to trail after him. It was an instinct of his younger self, a bad habit stemming from his need to be sure of everything. He had no way to know whether Sebastian had been honest with him or if his mark wasn’t as stupid as he appeared. Forcing down the lump of unease that came with any new assignment, Ilio pulled the paper from his pocket, starting to walk along the path through the park.

The park was somewhat of a border point, a place where the poorer sections of the city met those better off. Illio could already see the rise of rickety lodging buildings above the trees, the constant haze blurring the rooves together. He examined the list of addresses for a moment, pausing on a bridge over a small stream. Committing the sheet to memory, he tore it in half, crumpling it before tossing it into the river. No need to leave a paper trail. Plus, he had an assignment to accept.

(and I think that’s a wrap! I’m already excited for the two of them)

Mod

((yep! me too :) ))