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Everybody's looking for something... [It's only muttered, the words coming into his head as he listens to Sol play. Monty doesn't interrupt or join in, though. He'd really wanted to let the man show what he could with the thing. They certainly do have very different playing styles and general tastes. But that doesn't mean Monty particularly dislikes Sol's musical selection. It's just something to get used to. A bit like the music that he hears Mari hum and sing on occasion.]

How long has it been since you played?

[Sol shrugged. Too long, certainly, but not in the context of his life. But it was good to have the guitar in his hands, good enough to make him want to start another song as soon as he finished the first.]

Years slip away to an old man like me.

[Monty can't help raising a brow. Sol really doesn't look that old.]

And how old is that, sir?

[Ky probably had figured out the answer, but that didn't mean Sol was telling anyone.]

Tch.

[Monty raises a brow.]

I beg your pardon, sir. I'm unfamiliar with a numerical system that includes 'Tch.'

[He imitates Sol almost perfectly, even going so far as to mimic the other man's typical posture. It's probably horribly rude, but the man is being difficult and really. Is he embarrassed?]

[Sol bared his teeth. Most likely, the kid wouldn't believe him. Or would, but it still wouldn't matter.]

Over a hundred.

Edited 2015-10-06 02:25 (UTC)

[Considering one of his lovers is in the range of 900 and looks like she's in her 20s, Monty has no trouble believing him.]

You're not human.

[It's more of a statement than a question.]

[That was a more complicated point of fact than Monty might be aware of, but Sol wasn't one to explain it.

Instead he just shrugged.]

[Monty isn't going to let Sol get away with not explaining anything.]

What are you, then? A fire spirit?

[It's so tempting to just stay silent. But Monty is nosey, and Sol controls part of his story.]

Science experiment.

[Monty cocks his head, expression growing ever more intrigued.]

Someone... made you like this? Or... your own research?

[It's a little difficult picturing Sol as an academic, but he's heard of stranger things, and he knows the man is intelligent, in spite of his looks and gruff demeanor.]

[Sol makes a face.]

That's enough.

[Monty isn't off with either guess, but that's not his business.]

[Monty backs down, glancing down and away at the tone. He suspects he may have struck a nerve.]

My apologies, sir. I'd just like to know more about you.

[It's just as likely Sol got tired of talking.]

Y'don't need ta.

[And like a child, Monty can't help at wondering.]

Why not? You're an interesting person and you've been with our group an age. I hardly know anything about you still.

Y'know how I fuck.

[That'll probably shut him up.]

[It very effectively silences Monty for a moment as his cheeks flare with color and he blinks rapidly.]

That... that is wholly unrelated to your character and history, sir!

Is'it?

[Just a raised eyebrow.]

Unless your research was into the... the ways a man might find pleasure I-I...

[Monty works himself into a flustered quiet for a moment.]

I'm not sure what that would have to do with anything!

[Smirk.]

[Okay, totally not his research, but he's going to stick with the smirk.]

[God, is he being serious? That look seems to imply that Monty's hit it right, though that would be absolutely ridiculous. The gentleman's blush deepens.]

Would you like something to drink, sir?

[It's a complete non sequitur, but Monty feels he needs a drink. He needs several drinks and then some.]

[Kids like Monty are so easy to distract.]

Y'got gin?

[It's a good drink.]

[Monty will have whatever variety of alcohol Sol wants.]

Yes. Just a moment, I'll fetch it.

[And so he will, slipping out of the room both to catch his breath and shake off his embarrassment along with snatching up a pair of tumblers with gin in them. When he returns, the gentleman is settled once more. He offers a glass to Sol.]

What should we drink to? Good music?

[Certainly not Sol's research.]

[Sol hadn't been sure if the kid was going to insist on giving him something like tea instead.]

As good as anythin'.

[Or just having alcohol itself is good. The depot doesn't stock that.]

[Sol has been sufficiently mortifying to warrant something stronger than tea. Monty raises his glass and gulps down a good measure of what he has, hissing a breath in between his teeth and wincing when it burns on the way down.]

Would you care to play something else, sir?

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firesealed - 2015-10-25 15:38 (UTC) - Expand