And his jaw clacks shut, rather than let the defensive frustration out, and he lets a long, slow breath out through his nose. He's frustrated at going in circles, not at Jedao.
"You know, perhaps you might get along with Sokie after all," he muses instead. "She's about as deep in her own pit as you are."
It feels like Arthur is frustrated with him; Jedao forces himself to put the greater weight on what Arthur is choosing, his breath, his tone. Still -
"We're similar in all sorts of ways," Jedao says coolly. "We're also both dreadfully arrogant and incorrigible flirts. That doesn't mean we've got any chance of getting along now."
"As far as I'm aware, I'm the only person John's told about your talk. He wouldn't tell people and make this more complicated than it already is."
Except him, obviously. The exception to every rule.
"John wanted the label because Sokie offered it." His tone shifts, a little acerbic. "Because God forbid she do anything without going to extremes about it."
"He had the rings before she asked." Jedao repeats. John wanted the cultural symbol of marriage, whatever it means to him, for himself. "That's what he told me."
He knows intellectually that Arthur generally has much better insight into John than he does. But he trusts John. He can't believe that was a lie, and he doesn't understand how it could mean anything else.
Jedao blows out a long, slow breath.
"Not because she'd hold it against me. Just...because I've backed myself into a corner, haven't I?" Extremely poor strategy; he should have befriended Sokie as soon as she moved into John's rooms, instead of giving them space and wallowing a little. But now -
"John wouldn't love her if she was an idiot. So either I've got to put quite a lot of effort into deceiving her, which is no ground to build real friendship on, or I've got to approach with some level of honesty about being a jealous mess of resentments trying to connect with her, not for her own sake, but to selfishly make me feel better about my relationship with John. Do you think she'll be inclined to let down her walls for that?"
He runs a hand through his hair, fluffing it against its losing battle to the pomade. "I agree that lying is the completely wrong course of action, of course. Attempting to manipulate her will certainly backfire, especially with being in Justine and Iago's ears. I don't know that she'd be jealous or threatened by yourself, to be quite honest - as evidenced by the multiple other people he's marked, she recognises that his love and priorities are related, but- largely distinct matters."
He hums, tilting his head a little. "Honestly, the most likely option is that she'll attempt to pull back from John in some way, under the misapprehension she's usurping some sort of claim from you."
Jedao does an extremely good impression of shocked pikachu face. Yes, he's sort of doing the same thing, but only temporarily because he's being a bad sport and bad company at the moment; and also he hasn't just made a lifelong promise not to do that, so it's different. How dare she.
"I'll fight her," he says, absurdly, because he doesn't know what else to do with the spluttering hissing teakettle outrage shrilling between his ribs. "I'll duel her for his honor about it. I win she stays, she wins I'll go. She's from Earth history, she probably knows swords. Does she know swords?"
He can't help the bubble of laughter at the absurdity of it himself.
"She's more one for staffs, actually- but perhaps talking to them would be the better first option. Then you can at least claim you tried if it comes to a duel."
"Anyway, if she's as much like me as she seems, talking about it will probably make her panic escalate too," he mumbles, simmering down enough to respond to the actual suggestion.
"That entire last flood was her panic responding," he gripes, rubbing his face again. "That's something we're trying to work on with her, so. A threat with no actual fucking stakes involved might well be good for her."
Jedao gets another light squeeze and a warm little laugh.
"I'll let you know if I ever work it out for myself," he hums. "Back home people sometimes have gift registries, a-a list of things people can use as suggestions, but. More often people just appreciate the kind gesture."
"Learning, more than anything. Teaching as well," he adds thoughtfully, "But she's constantly curious about the world, views it through a very scientific lens where she can, even her magic. As much as she uses it to distract herself, it's a genuine passion. I don't know that there's any topic she'd be disinterested in, so giving her something new to study is as good an idea as any."
Oh, so she's Nirai, he thinks uncharitably, but with an entirely half-hearted mental grumble rather than anything sincere, as though he doesn't have plenty of basically-Nirai that he adores. Still, it's useful; it's something he can build an approach around.
Of course, a lot of the novel fields from his world are things he will absolutely not be teaching anybody, but he can figure something out. Zero-G training is really just applied invariant vector physics, but it's very fun.
At the end of the day, he's just glad they're through the worst of it, and that there's light on the horizon for Jedao - and by extension, a few other people too.
"Right, so." He doesn't pull away, but he does pick up a stick nearby with his cheerful rally. "Miles are imperial units of measurement, as opposed to metric - centimetres and metres and such. One mile is five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet, and a foot--"
Here he uses the stick to draw a line in the mud, and it is, roughly, about as long as his own foot is. "--is about twelve inches, the most basic unit. I think it's, er- about two and a half centimetres, or something. I am about five foot nine inches tall."
"Blame the Romans, probably," he hums dryly. "War-mongering conquerors of ancient history. Though numerology's been a thing since the Egyptians first invented a proper numerical system, or something to that effect - they're even older, allegedly one of the oldest civilisations on Earth."
He idly tosses his stick into the water. "Numerology's a crock of shit on Earth, of course. It's invariant all the way down- the premise of calendric mechanics exist, mostly as- as a sort of joke, a more philosophical, nonsense series of beliefs. A-at least to humans, though, but the idea of masses devoted to a single idea is how beings like the King in Yellow amass power."
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And his jaw clacks shut, rather than let the defensive frustration out, and he lets a long, slow breath out through his nose. He's frustrated at going in circles, not at Jedao.
"You know, perhaps you might get along with Sokie after all," he muses instead. "She's about as deep in her own pit as you are."
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"We're similar in all sorts of ways," Jedao says coolly. "We're also both dreadfully arrogant and incorrigible flirts. That doesn't mean we've got any chance of getting along now."
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Except him, obviously. The exception to every rule.
"John wanted the label because Sokie offered it." His tone shifts, a little acerbic. "Because God forbid she do anything without going to extremes about it."
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He knows intellectually that Arthur generally has much better insight into John than he does. But he trusts John. He can't believe that was a lie, and he doesn't understand how it could mean anything else.
Jedao blows out a long, slow breath.
"Not because she'd hold it against me. Just...because I've backed myself into a corner, haven't I?" Extremely poor strategy; he should have befriended Sokie as soon as she moved into John's rooms, instead of giving them space and wallowing a little. But now -
"John wouldn't love her if she was an idiot. So either I've got to put quite a lot of effort into deceiving her, which is no ground to build real friendship on, or I've got to approach with some level of honesty about being a jealous mess of resentments trying to connect with her, not for her own sake, but to selfishly make me feel better about my relationship with John. Do you think she'll be inclined to let down her walls for that?"
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And he tilts his head in thought.
"Well, I think she'd appreciate your candour."
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He's heard her all but brag to Justine about every she's pushed away.
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He runs a hand through his hair, fluffing it against its losing battle to the pomade. "I agree that lying is the completely wrong course of action, of course. Attempting to manipulate her will certainly backfire, especially with being in Justine and Iago's ears. I don't know that she'd be jealous or threatened by yourself, to be quite honest - as evidenced by the multiple other people he's marked, she recognises that his love and priorities are related, but- largely distinct matters."
He hums, tilting his head a little. "Honestly, the most likely option is that she'll attempt to pull back from John in some way, under the misapprehension she's usurping some sort of claim from you."
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"I'll fight her," he says, absurdly, because he doesn't know what else to do with the spluttering hissing teakettle outrage shrilling between his ribs. "I'll duel her for his honor about it. I win she stays, she wins I'll go. She's from Earth history, she probably knows swords. Does she know swords?"
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"She's more one for staffs, actually- but perhaps talking to them would be the better first option. Then you can at least claim you tried if it comes to a duel."
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"What would be a good wedding present, do you think?"
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"I'll let you know if I ever work it out for myself," he hums. "Back home people sometimes have gift registries, a-a list of things people can use as suggestions, but. More often people just appreciate the kind gesture."
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"What does she like?"
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Of course, a lot of the novel fields from his world are things he will absolutely not be teaching anybody, but he can figure something out. Zero-G training is really just applied invariant vector physics, but it's very fun.
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Eventually, though, he asks quietly. "How much of this would you prefer that I tell John later? Besides the obvious- nothing at all."
They both know he's going to. So he'll at least leave how much he's leaving his raw nerves exposed to Jedao's discretion.
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He gives Jedao one more squeeze, tugging him to press tight against him.
"I'm proud of you."
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"Right, so." He doesn't pull away, but he does pick up a stick nearby with his cheerful rally. "Miles are imperial units of measurement, as opposed to metric - centimetres and metres and such. One mile is five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet, and a foot--"
Here he uses the stick to draw a line in the mud, and it is, roughly, about as long as his own foot is. "--is about twelve inches, the most basic unit. I think it's, er- about two and a half centimetres, or something. I am about five foot nine inches tall."
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He idly tosses his stick into the water. "Numerology's a crock of shit on Earth, of course. It's invariant all the way down- the premise of calendric mechanics exist, mostly as- as a sort of joke, a more philosophical, nonsense series of beliefs. A-at least to humans, though, but the idea of masses devoted to a single idea is how beings like the King in Yellow amass power."
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