[Log] Vax'ildan, Yasmeen, then Kitty - Guilt and Guyliner

[st_abby]

The problem, Vax reasoned from where he was forced into a kneeling half-sprawl, was that this was essentially a door. A very elaborate, heavy-duty door, with built-in mechanisms that he'd never before encountered. And he blamed Vox Machina's renowned bad luck with doors for what was happening more than anything else. He was a first-class rogue, after all. He could slip past or pick open most doors he came across, before the party curse had descended on them all. He was, he assured himself, better than this.

All of that made him feel a tiny bit better about having his arm well trapped inside the food dispenser he'd later come to understand was referred to as a 'vending machine.'

Oh, he'd felt clever at first, reaching into some sort of chute and masterfully circumventing a number of solid flaps and flanges, pushing his dexterous arm and stretching nimble fingers to navigate the upright channel. Until he'd got himself wedged in so tightly that the brightly colored packages gleamed with cruel mockery from behind the pane of display glass. And that getting back out again with his arm intact proved more difficult than one might think.

He sighed, and slumped, effectively trapped in the grip of the machine on the second floor of the third residential building. So ended Vax'ildan, Champion of the Raven Queen, mighty dragon-slaying idiot.

Bored out of her skull, Yasmeen had taken to stalking the grounds with the stealth only a gai tsetsang (or a rogue with raven feathers, perhaps) could manage. Unless she chose to reveal herself, no one knew she was there, which spared her the necessity of answer the inane question, "What are you doing here?" As if the answer weren't entirely obvious: looking for the bastards that shanghaied us or an exit.

A deeper truth might be to say that she paced the confines of her cage like a predatory cat in a menagerie, but she avoided that line of thought for the sake of her own and everyone else's well-being.

She skulked a fine line between inquisitive and homicidal, always at the razor's edge of lethal violence--yet, or perhaps because of it, when she encountered Vax'ildan in an undignified grappling match with a metal and glass candy cabinet, Yasmeen chuckled like an amused and very Cheshire anthropomorphized cat. "Well, if it isn't the epitome of "caught with your hand in the cookie jar," all of which she said rather like it was a name rather than a description.

"My pride's in here somewhere," Vax suggested more or less jauntily, looking up to face Yasmeen for a chagrinned smile. "It's important I get it back before someone comes along and sees me looking like the village idiot."

He'd really rather it hadn't been the Captain Corsair come to find him like this, if he'd had to choose. Vax would much prefer she continue on thinking he might be competent or at least useful, as a fellow tradeswoman. In the smallest of consolations, his relaxed slump and shift in posture had made his snare slightly less uncomfortable. "Think you could convince this thing to shit out one of these parcels? The workings might shift enough to let me loose."

"Lucky for you, I'm disguised as 'No One' today," she observed wryly and made a sweeping gesture from head to toe that indicated her every day attire. No One, also fortunately for him, had an acute sensitivity to matters of reputation.

Head cocked, she surveyed the 'thing' and tried to piece together how it worked. The mechanics behind it escaped her in the absence of a schemata or a look at its workings. However, it did contain fairly concise instructions at about chest height in contemporary English. "Let me guess. You don't read English?" she asked, while she tried to convert florins to "USD," using Gotham's currency values.

Vax almost told her how lousy a disguise it was - she would be hard to miss if anyone with working eyes got a good look at her. But there were too many ways for her to take that, and he'd rather get out of this than compound a stupid thing on top of another.

"Angle-ish?" He tipped his head slightly, the motion inadvertently bird-like. "I thought it was Common. Most people where I'm from speak and write it, or nothing would ever get done between races." He turned back to peer up at the instructions she was eyeballing. "Insert money, push buttons. I got that far, and thought I'd try my luck the old-fashioned way. Not sure what the stabbed serpent and the impaled crescent are for," he admitted, considering the symbols and numbers again.

Yasmeen chuckled at his description of the currency symbols. "Only a blade would read them such. The crescent marks a cent, the smallest unit of currency. The snake marks a dollar, which is one hundred cents." She plucked a small silver coin from the pouch at her belt, one that had been worth ten dollars in Gotham. "This should be more than sufficient."

Holding it between thumb and third finger, she placed it next to the slot and then eyed Vax'ildan with amusement. "Is there a particular shiny packet you were after or shall we play roulette?"
"They're much the same to me," Vax admitted. They all had strange names that didn't tell you what they were - sacks of things called Doritos, Cheetos, Fritos - or were narrow bars of what seemed to be sweets, print indicating chocolates and the like. Pictures had been worked on, and some bits of the foodstuffs peeked flirtatiously through their wrappers. But the colors were so vivid and varied that they reminded him more of the spice markets of Ank'Harel than food itself.

"And I've clearly burned the last of my luck for the day," he shrugged as much as the machine devouring one of his arms would allow. His sister was probably the more superstitious twin, but only just. "May yours prove better than mine, dear Captain."

"I make my own luck," came her rakish reply. A jaunty lift of the eyebrow accompanied the coin dropping down the chute and her decisive pressing of D9 for an orange and brown thing called a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. It had gold lettering, and she'd learned she rather liked peanut butter on her travels outside of Gotham. Alas, nothing seemed to be moving within the machine.

If they had known anything about the technology behind the machine, they would have understood why not any coin would do, and the sophisticated systems put in place to determine the values of multiple coins that they might use. They would've known that many such machines had safeguards in place that would stop the moving parts in the case of blockages or malfunction. Both of which helped them not at all in this moment.

Vax'ildan cursed, soft and Elvish to underscore the depth of his frustration. He closed his eyes, concentrating once more on feeling the sensations along his arm, to where the bones of his wrist and hand were solidly gripped by the inner workings. He was starting to lose some of the feeling in his fingers, which he did not like one bit. He wasn't worried about the angle so much, and he thought if he could only extract himself from the one dogged gate... He peered back at the Captain. "Grab onto my shoulders and give me a hard pull, would you?"

"And risk those precious hands?" Yasmeen twisted the plunger that was supposed to release her coin and waited for it to fall. Nothing happened. She twisted it again and again and still nothing. She struck out with her fist, smashing her wrist bone against it. Before it even hurt, her nanites rushed to the area to heal the forming bruise.

"Take my money, will you?" She struck out again, this time with her boot and rocked the machine with the force of it.

"You're risking my precious everything if this tips over," Vax pointed out, giving a desperate twist away from the kicking madwoman more instinctive than prepared below the threat of the great teetering metal crate. He wasn't convinced that the wrenching motion was any kinder than a good solid tug would've been, but he did find himself suddenly dislodged, spilling onto his back, cloak in a sprawl around him.

He sighed his relief, contentedly lying aside the machine, carefully working out his wrist and stretching his fingers. Finally.

"You say that as though I had any intention of letting it fall on you." Although, if she liked Vax'ildan a whit less, she might have, just for the complaint.

Yasmeen settled the machine on its erstwhile haunches and growled at it. "That coin would've paid for most of lunch in Gotham." Her gaze narrowed as she tipped her head to the side to try to see into the machine, and then punched it again with the heel of her hand.

"How are your lock-picking skills?" Her own were far better than adequate, but one had to specialize. She led a crew and flew an airship. Lockpicking was secondary to the trade at best.

"Were we in Tal'Dorei, I'd tell you they're very good," Vax dragged himself upright again, minding to stay out of the path of her angry hits as he moved to peer at the lock that seemed to keep back the coin dropped within. "But everything is so strange here. You've seen the 'keys' for our rooms. I've broken a few of them trying to work out how they're done already. Funny thing, they keep on repairing themselves," he told her as an aside.

"As for this... A pin and tumbler lock, is my guess." In a smooth motion, he suddenly had a small leather case at hand, unfolding it to display a number of long, skinny tools. It was a more sophisticated lock than most for his time and place, but not unheard of. "At least it's unlikely to be magical."

"Need I remind you that this Inn resets room furnishings and receives deliveries from nowhere?" To Yasmeen's mind, the entire damned place qualified as "magical." Granted, she didn't have a lot in the way of experience with magic still, but enough that she couldn't be as sanguine as Vax'ildan seemed to be about the lock systems.

Nevertheless, she took in his tools with an approving eye and then smirked. "At least it's not in my quarters. Were it, it would likely be rigged to blow your hand off."

"You think I'd pick a lock without first checking for traps?" There was more of that professional amusement in the reply, a bit of a smile on his lips even given how he'd nearly had his arm off. "But I've already expertly disarmed the only trap I found here," he explained as if that was how he'd intended it the whole while, though his tone and expression showed they both knew better.

Vax'ildan chose one of the tools with a flat arm at a ninety degree angle and slid it into the base of the keyway, jostling gently to seat it in the belly of the lock and tell where the easier course of the turn went. Leaving it in place, he went back for a smaller tool with a bit of a subtle curve on the end, leaning in close to listen to the sounds of the pins as he inserted the hook and began delicately tapping his way along each as he discovered them, his hand moving in a kind of tight in-and-out up-and-down motion. Single-pin picking should do, he didn't think it was so complex he'd have to triple peak or apply the city rake, and he wasn't in such a hurry. No reason to get rude with it if he didn't have to.

"Besides, you think my hands are precious," he reminded, as the lock made one final soft sound and disengaged after a turn of the tension wrench. Vax swung the panel open, showing a number of tall chute chambers that ended in bins collecting the different sorts of coins. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.

"Yes," Yasmeen temporized even as the panel opened. "Now I do." If it had taken only a minute for Vax'ildan to spring the lock, it took far less time for Yasmeen to spy her coin amongst those in one of the bins and then neatly retrieve it. "Admittedly, your skills are most impressive, but I'd no personal stake in your hands until they returned coin to mine."

She grinned rakishly at him, although she had no intentions. He had the same reek of desperate pining as Hook had before his princess arrived. It made teasing him indecently amusing.

The most ridiculous part of this whole exercise was that money had hardly any value at present. Even if they had brutishly broken the stupid machine, it was likely to repair itself.

Vax studied the exposed bounty of snack foods as he neatly slid his tools back into the mysterious location on his person where they'd come from. After all that trouble, they may as well leave the vault open for any who passed by to partake. He searched for the item marked D9, tugging a few of the orange parcels free of the coils and offering them to Yasmeen as payment for services rendered. "What about now?" He waggled them playfully.

Yasmeen rolled her eyes but her smile and the deft removal of the peanut butter cups from his hand gentled the expression almost into fondness. "Stop flirting, Vax'ildan, or I might begin to imagine you're soliciting bed sport."

He was far prettier and more delicate than her usual fare, but she could certainly have been tempted to sample if she didn't know better.

Vax smiled in kind, even knowing that he similarly had no intentions there. He had no intentions on anyone here, and the one that mattered was too far away to appreciate. But having a little chuckle was a different thing.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Captain. I only fear you're too much woman for me. I'd be as likely to sprain something and disappoint us both."

"Please." Yasmeen scoffed loudly and said, "You're pining so aggressively I'm surprised you're not bleeding guyliner," and then bit into the peanut butter cup. Damn. She smirked. "I'll be fine with these."


**********

"You seem like a woman of this world, or something close to it," Vax'ildan suggested to she who had taken to serving at the bar. Yasmeen had barely sampled her payout of the candy cabinet misadventure before she'd turned on her heel and stalked away, so he hadn't had the chance to ask her any follow-up questions. Which may have been for the best - he didn't want to do any more to convince her he was simple in a single day, and additional questions might've been pushing it. He'd decided to soothe the injury to his pride with a mug of ale instead. "What is 'guyliner'? And do I look to you as if I'm 'bleeding' it?"

Kitty turned, head cocked and smiling quixotically. "Bleeding guyliner?" New one on her, but she could make sense of it with a little context. "Who said you did?" She brushed her hands off on her jeans and offer one across the counter to him. "Name's Kitty, by the way."

It had surprised him at first, when the ladies here started offering their hands the same as a man concluding some business in Tal'Dorei, instead of expecting something more courtly. But he found he liked the frankness of it. "I'm Vax'ildan," he returned in kind, grasping to shake at her wrist rather than her palm in the way he was used to. (Only an amateur would let their blades be found in so obvious a way.) "The Captain Corsair, she with the scathing wit. Have you met her?"

"Ah yes, she of the watchful eyes." Wherever Snow White, Angua, Rebekah, and Raleigh were involved, although Kitty had yet to figure out precisely what they had in common. Kitty laughed out her reply, and then planted both hands on her hips as she surveyed him thoughtfully.

After a moment, Kitty laughed again, harder this time, as what the Captain must've meant. Generally, Kitty wasn't one for make-up, but she and Lara kept a limited supply behind the bar whenever they were working. It included eyeliner, so Kitty pulled out the eye crayon, black, it just so happened.

"This is guyliner. Or, well, it would be, if you were wearing it." She uncapped it. "Demonstration?"

On the list of things that Vax was scared of, looking a little foolish didn't really rate.

"...Sure? What do I do?" He was giving the little stick of coal or whatever it was a skeptical look. Even if he was a touch intrigued, he'd rather not lose an eye this way.

"Just lean forward," Kitty said at the same time as she decided it. Letting Vax'ildan do his own eyes would be hilarious, but she was less likely to put his eye out. "And follow my instructions on where to look and whether to open or shut your eyes."

This was a definite first for Vax'ildan. Cosmetics weren't in common use where he came from, and not something the women in his life had fussed with on a daily basis. The trust required, the exacting motions or stillness, and the tickle of the tip around his eyes of all places - at least Kitty looked as if she knew what it was she was doing.

He did as Kitty said, until her hands finally came away from his face. "Is it done? Am I perfectly laughable yet?"

Kitty stepped back to survey her handiwork, grinned and then stepped aside to make room for him to see himself in the mirrored glass behind the bar. "Not laughable by half. Your eyes look great. Emo, but gorgeous."

"That sounds almost complimentary." Vax leaned over the bar a bit for a better look at his reflection. It was strange, how it made his eyes zoom into focus, and she'd done a fine job of keeping him from looking like a raccoon. It surprised him a little, but he didn't hate it. Gilmore would've appreciated the more dramatic look, he was sure.

He eased into his seat again and looked back at Kitty. "Now that I've got the full effect - can you explain what this 'guyliner' has got to do with pining?" It was taking an awful lot to unpack what the Captain had said so briskly. "Is that like what you just called it - 'emo'?"

"Emo is short for emotional, usually like all sensitive and touchy-feely." She leaned in again to smudge the eyeliner a little bit at the corners. A last touch. He really was obscenely attractive. "The eyeliner's a look that emo-punks wear. Lots of black, lots of eyeliner, lots of songs about how life is shit and their heart is bleeding. Usually over their last girl or boyfriend." Kitty shrugged. "The Captain probably meant you're obviously off-limits because you're pining so hard over someone at home."

"Now it starts to make sense," Vax admitted. He made his voice a little softer, leaning in a touch closer as if sharing a secret. "I have been called broody. And I do wear black," he gestured to the leather armor and feathered cloak and all, as if they'd been somehow hidden until just now.

Kitty huffed a laugh at that. "I hadn't noticed." She turned her head to look him over. "The clothes really do make the emo-man," she teased, but her expression softened, understanding. "The Captain's not wrong, though, is she? There's someone at home." Kitty wasn't great at guys at the best of times, but she was a good bartender--she recognized the signs.

"She's right, on this account," Vax told his ale as much as Kitty. "Am I that obvious?" He didn't like the idea that he was wearing his loss like an open wound, bleeding about the whole of the inn, but he couldn't very well do much about it.

Kitty took up her rag to wipe down the bar. "You flirt, but there's not much behind it." Not that she'd given him any reason to believe she'd be open to it. "You're nice to the newcomers, but you're always watching the door." She shrugged. "I assumed you were hoping for someone to come through it."

"Several someones, if I could be so lucky. But one would be my girlfriend," he confessed, swallowing from his glass. "Isn't everyone here watching the door for someone? Aren't you?"

Was she? Kitty frowned and then shrugged again. "No one in particular." Her teammates might not even know she was gone yet. She hadn't been in contact much since she went to school. And Shan and Shola would probably still be trying to find out which of the anti-mutant scumbags took her. Even if they did come here... "The people who'd be coming for me wouldn't use the door." Especially not Illyana.

"So windows are more your style," Vax interpreted that as a rogue would. "Can certainly be easier than doors, assuming the right equipment and the wrong door," he agreed.

She didn't know him that well and her powers weren't widely known, but Kitty didn't like to lie. The feathered armor suggested he wasn't exactly Joe Normal, so she said, "They're more likely to just appear. Or seem to. A lot of my friends are good at magic or misdirection."

"I have similar sorts of friends," he brightened a bit at that. Perhaps this place wasn't entirely different from Tal'Dorei. "The kind that do wonders with magic. I can get by with misdirection, from time to time."

Kitty liked him a bit better when he smiled, and a bit more still when his words suggested something like collegiality between him and his friends, if not explicitly a team. She smiled and said, "In my case it's more mutation than magic, but you could still say I get by with a bit of both."