Eriadu is where we catch Rimma

[Ereza]

Smile remaining, Amore nodded as she looked down at the caffe in her hands. She held no delusions that she was the most important person around. Contrary to popular belief, the Kuatian Heiress put others before herself as much as she possibly could. A title or a crown made her no more important in the galaxy than anyone else. Importance was largely arbitrary.

She chuckled, "I make no great effort to agitate him. He has been my shadow since ... forever," brows lofting she looked to Sarge with interest, "why did you decide to be a protector?"

@[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

@[member="Amorella Mae"]

Black eyes dipped towards the ground, lips pursing as he thought. A glaze cast its way across his gaze, and it quickly became clear that her companion had shifted to another time; another place. Now, he was at home, family around. His mother, as ever, sat watching the news while the family pet lay on the floor nearby.

But his mind wandered to an incident in his youth, of a man who yelled at his mother... made her cry. He'd called his father, then, and told him of the transgression. Without even a second thought to their failed relationship, his father had gone to find the man who had wronged his mum.

Sure enough, he'd never seen her again. But that also meant he'd never made her cry again.

Sighing, he looked back at her. "I was raised in a conservative household. The man was the brawn, the woman the brain. I was taught to treat women with respect, compassion, and the same extended to men. Friendly, affable, all things I was supposed to be. But above all else, mature."

A smile appeared on his face. "However, ingraining in me that the man was the protector has often lead to a protective streak in me, especially of women. Never once do I think they can't defend themselves... it's just apart of me to think that they need not put themselves in danger while I am around to do it. Biologically, men are more readily equipped to fight... so why not spare a womans life of pain if at all possible?"

It was cheesy, absurdly cheesy, but that had been his life's lessons. It was, perhaps, backwards, but he didn't care. Purpose sprouted from the idea, and ultimately that was what he savored. Purpose.

"I also tend towards being gruff, a bit stand-offish. I don't take kindly to challenges. All these things are good in a guard."

 

[Ereza]

Amore kindly accepted a basket of chips, pita, and secret-recipe salsa from the cook all wrapped in a tidy to-go pack as she listened to the man speak, unaware of the fact that Kefka was, indeed, standing silently inside the door listening in. Seems she missed her mark to go feign sickness in the bathroom.

The young woman's smile warmed, a calm gaze resting on Sarge, "That's all very honorable ... and sensible in a way. Why do you not protect anyone now?" she leaned towards him, giving his outfit a curious look-over, "Unless I've missed a very small Lady hidden somewhere in your fatigues."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"I'm traveling right now, and in doing so, protecting someone... in a way. It's a bit complicated, I'm afraid.", he says, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head. Coryth thought him dead, and part of him was afraid to try and explain away his death by showing up unannounced.

But he couldn't put it off forever, and he was creeping ever so slowly closer to Fondor. For once, however, he avoided the innuendo inherent in her last statement.

 

[Ereza]

"Do you... make friends with them when you protect them? Or is that against a code?" she asked, thinking on her own friendship with Kefka. He was her confidant as well as her friend and protector. In public one would never know, but behind closed doors, in safety, the Honoghran Assassin was every bit as personable as she.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"I typically do. It's hard not to. When you see someone every day, you either hate them or you become friends. Nine times out of ten, if you hate them, you're going to leave. That really only leaves friends, no?" He'd heard more than a few stories of protector and protectee becoming lovers, but that was more of an exception rather than a rule.

Considering being a bodyguard was a job, few wanted to have a relationship in the workplace; especially if their lover was a HVT for some enemy faction.

 

[Ereza]

For some reason this bit of knowledge filled the Princess with hope. Hope for humanity, hope for galaxy - she wasn't really sure which. In her own position as a planetary figurehead there was a high risk of many things and an even higher risk for those serving to protect her. Amore had always found it sad the number of lives given in the line of duty for not just herself, but anyone requiring it. She often wondered if the lives of her guards were made easier by keeping safe something that was kind and cared for them as opposed to something that was not. Did gratitude for sacrifice make it any less terrifying? Any less painful?

"What would you do if one day you could no longer perform your duties as a protector?" Would he retired and seek his own personal paradise? Would he go home finally to friends and family? Would he wallow in self pity? Commit suicide? The tales she'd heard of discharged guards were endless and varying.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"That... well... that's an interesting question. I don't know what I'd do, because I guess I always assumed I'd die in the endeavor."

 

[Ereza]

"I suppose that is an unfortunate fate of many," she nodded, sipping her caffe and frowning as she realized it was beginning to go cold, "but what if circumstances render you honorably discharged, retired. No longer capable of serving that purpose?"

"Sometimes I sit up at night wondering what I would do if one day I wake up and the path forged by my parents is no more. My inheritance gone. Maybe I'd have some money that I could find a nice home, likely not enough to go traveling as I would want, so instead I'd get a place in the country, make a living by selling my art, maybe teaching it it, too. Start a family. Write books. Open a bakery. I think I would be happy with that."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"If I am honest, thinking of the future terrifies me... and so I do my best to avoid it." He'd not tell her of his sleepless nights; no good would come of that.

 

[Ereza]

"Terrifying?" Amore lost her smile, looking pensive now, "a future of possibilities should be comforting. A predetermined future - that is terrifying. I am terrified of the throne. I'm terrified of the idea of the inevitable death of my mother that leaves me responsible for the lives of hundreds of thousands. I'm terrified of knowing I'm expected to produce an heir with a man I'll likely never have a chance to meet before the marriage is even arranged. I'm terrified of becoming distant from my family because my duty to my people demands more attention. I'm terrified of failing ... of letting everyone I know down."

She shook her head, setting her caffe aside finally, "but I refuse to live my life in terror. I am the Master of my future and I will see it and think on it with excitement and anticipation of all the things that are possible. Everyone's future has the unlimited potential for joy and happiness and goodness as much as it does for sadness and pain. I could have lived in fear of speaking to a complete stranger today, or any day for that matter, but here I am holding a box of salsa and chips talking to you and I cannot even fathom what new sorts of possibilities have come from that."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge was, as most would tell him, a prepared individual. He was almost always prepared for any eventuality; it was apart of his character, and by extension his job. So to him, the loss of control was absolutely the most terrifying thing in existence. It was anathema to his very existence.

"I can't not have a plan for things... and so the knowledge that I cannot entirely plan for the future scares me. I don't like that.
It was a sheepish admission for sure, but he didn't let it perturb him for long. "I'm not sure what possibilities come from it either, but I know that big ugly is...", he inhales deeply through his nose, "...a bit closer than before. Probably attempting to check on you."

The man shrugged. "If you're gonna avoid him, at least do a thorough job of it."

 

[Ereza]

"Hmmm..." her smirk returned as she checked back towards the doorway. There was that familiar scent of spice on the air that always seemed to linger around the Noghri. Amorella's own super-human senses picked up on that easily enough, but being untrained to notice such things like a man of combat such as Sarge didn't put her on the alert.

She shrugged, "Busted. I'm a Princess, not a Ninja, but I am pretty good at thumb wrestling. Wanna go?" she presented a rather small, delicate hand to the man and waggled her thumb at him as well as her eyebrows, "I understand you don't take kindly to a challenge." Smirk.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

A slow brow rose as he cocked his head to one side. "I only do two kinds of wrestling; both are forms of grappling." There was an innuendo there, entirely subtle by virtue of being unsubtle. Part of him wanted to give her a resounding 'no', simply because of how childish it was.

But, instead, he cracked a little bit of a smile.

A hand extended to grasp at her own as he monitored his strength to make sure he didn't put too much pressure on her. "You sure?"

 

[Ereza]

"Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?" she grinned and adjusted her seat on the bin to face him fully.

Clasping his hand in her own there was little surprise that her much smaller frame was rather engulfed by the warrior's. Nor did she seem to mind the rough, calloused texture of the pads of his fingers. As a matter of fact she was rather used to this.

"Now," she said, clearing her throat and straightening herself, "the secret to my success is my charm, wit, and good reflexes, or so I like to believe. But, between you and I," Amore leaned closer to him, checking over her shoulder towards the doorway where Kefka now stood in plain sight, though made no visible effort to intervene. He was staring rather intently, arms crossed.

"I think people just let me win a lot," she said over a hushed voice, "Ahem. One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war," back and fourth the thumb touched at the bridge of either hand, "five, six, seven, eight, try to keep your thumb straight."

And so it began with a chirp of laughter.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"They probably do.", he retorts, voice as dry as the moisture-less air of Tattooine. But, with the alien bodyguard watching the pair... they began a game they probably shouldn't be playing at their age. That being said, Sarge treated his thumb war with her like every activity he attempted with both men and women.

He treated it out like he was out to destroy her; or rather, as much as one can be out to destroy someone at a childs game. Which is to say that he used his longer finger length to his advantage, because, well, he wasn't going to let her just win. That'd be no fun.

For him.

It'd be no fun for him.

 

[Ereza]

Destroyed.

"Ack! Haha, two out of three?"

Obliterated.

Done-zo.

Amore, laughing, clutched hopelessly at his hand with both of her own now. No chance, not ever. Her competitive spirit maxed out at brutishness, but therein was the difference between them.

"You win, Sir, good game. I should introduce you to my cousin, she does the same thing."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

A brow quirked up as both her hands sat, wrapped around his as though she was about to go down on one knee and propose to him... because thumb wars was serious romantic business.

Clearly.

"Does she? She a brute too?" Smirking a bit, he chuckled.

 

[Ereza]

"She is very committed to maintaining her superiority in all forms," Amore admitted in a manner that would not belie the woman's personality. Her smile was wry.

She patted the man's hand, "For your victory I will give you a free palm reading."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge blinked.

"What."