Inès sighed. Usage of the phrase, "A lot to think on" did suffice, yet to insist that it was only these past few weeks that occupied Inès' thoughts would be misnomic. Thoughts of all manner ran past her. Every last emotion Inès could comprehend raced in her as she paced about the last two weeks in her mind, and with that pacing came new, unusual feelings. Emotions she felt, but did not understand. Things that were difficult to rationalize or explain properly, like the sudden feelings of repetition as she charged about September 12th as though the events were a requiem of a foregone experience. The White Hart was far from the first bar she had seen torn to pieces, far from the only civilians she had seen caught in a crossfire of things much larger than anything they could reasonably control. Were they any less gruesome the second, third, fourth, fifth time around? Could Inès do anything more the next times around? No. Resoundingly no, if her previous display were to be taken for.
A brush of the wind catches her azure eye, drifting her focus back into the camp. Straightening herself, her thoughts grew hazy for a fleeting second, then the world shook its sudden blackness to full, dreary color. Much talk had gone around, yet none of it did she bother to care for engagement with. Things seemed to press on her too much to really talk about them for very long, for Inès was always of the belief that she should comprehend what she speaks so much of, lest she waste both her and her occupant's times.
From that sea of conversation, her birthday did pass. She had a few quaint people to tell, who were equally in no position to be granting her birthday wishes. Freya found herself occupied with the constant fighting of getting clear of Amone's warzones proper, while Franz...well...the less said of Franz, the better. Neither of those two were in much a place for the time to bring up such a "joyous" occasion, and she need not bother them with those thoughts. Perhaps later, they could celebrate, and perhaps later there would come a time for festivities. Yet truth be told, to not celebrate was a more usual circumstance for the Darcsen than any form of festivity, in true poetic notion, birthdays were the worst days. All talk of gift-giving and livery were typically gone, expended at the expense of the typical finances of the working class, necessary or otherwise. To date, Inès could recall one- no, forgive, two birthdays in which she celebrated.
Talks of birthdays inevitably rang up the name of the dirthead himself; Luke. And he would have to learn that lesson the hard way. Birthdays were the worst days, and September 12th, 1914 was likely the worst day he ever had the misfortune to experience.
Inès breathed out, shaking her head just at the passing thought. Luke certainly held an occupation back home of redefining tomfoolery, she imagined, yet no manner of uncouth action befitted someone such a fate. Perhaps misguided, and likely naïve, Inès agreed, yet Luke wasn't a bad person. As she began walking, the clank and clatter of her satchel against her leg reminded her of that present to call her own, of that coincidental conferment. A bottle of rum, and a bottle she would likely never drink. A step, a clink. Step. Clink! Step. Clunk! Step. Swick!
Her head tilted over to her side. What could go wrong from a bit of merrymaking?
‘Where is he…’ she wonders, going off about in the direction of the male encampment. Difficulty in finding him had no detriment of her search, for with every tent that did not belong to him, seven more reminders of a gift she would never use came to her head, and seven more reminders of a birthday ruined for them both. Poke after poke, peek after peek, Inès found Luke in his - how she should say - natural state.
"I'm not impressed." she commented, entering his domain without so much as a knock. Her face was, perhaps, as Luke always noted it; Irritated, caustic, and focused. Her eyes swivel, slowly walking around to the position directly across from Luke, taking a seat while he cleaned his rifle.
"...do you have a second?" Inès asked, crossing her legs with her satchel atop.
A pleasant smile rested on Luke's face as he wiped away a few smudges from his rifles bolt, using a bit of spit to get the job done before flipping his weapon over to start on the other side. Luke couldn't help but chuckle, his morale clearly high enough to reach the skies and more. He couldn't help but think on the letter from home and the adorable picture of his sisters Sarah sent. A large part of him felt homesick and silently hoped this war would end soon so he can go back and give them all a great hug, but he knew he was where he should be. He missed his home and family, but this was his destiny, his calling. This was the time to make a future for not only himself, but for his family. Plus he remembered the day his sisters first saw him uniform and smirked at the adorable spark of awe in their blue eyes. He hoped they would someday follow his example, to strive to be something bigger and have their own goals. Another chuckle escaped him as he flicked off a bit of dirt from the butt of his gun before hearing a familiar voice state the fact she wasn't impressed. He scoffed slightly and kept his smile, but kept his eyes glued to his weapon.
"Well sorry my blue haired comrade, but I'm not here to impress you. Just to outshine you," he replied with his smirk growing a bit before blowing a bit of smoke from his nose before tapping some ashes off from his smoke. A part of him hoped the Darcsen would continue on and leave him be, but that hope was dashed as she sat down across from him. He held back a sigh and kept his smile while cleaning his rifle. Luke didn't particularly hate the woman, it was just that most of the time they interact it either ends in yelling and smacking, or just a few quick jabs at each other. It didn't help that she was a Darcsen, though she's proven to him she's not like any other Darcsen he's met so he has less of an issue with her. He paused as he was cleaning the butt of his rifle and arched a brow as she asked for a second of his time. He thought for a moment, tapping his finger against the wood of his weapon before shrugging and resting his rifle across his lap.
"I guess, got plenty of time to spare," he said before looking back up to her, his smiling dulled a bit to be more neutral and kept his eyebrow arched as he was a bit curious to what she had to say. He took another puff from his smoke and blew the chemicals away from her face.
"What?"She glanced over at him, looking at him over, pass after pass. The discussion at hand was nothing she found herself practicing for in any capacity, yet it would need to be done, one way or another. Inès fidgeted around, quickly straightening her posture before making her offer.
"I heard it was your birthday. During..."She frowned. Her head tilts to the side, her eyes slowly dashing to her left, then back at him in suggestion.
"...the inn." she finished, "And...it was my birthday when this all happened, so."The Darcsen blinked, eventually turning her composure into a deeper half-growl. Quickly, she unbuttoned the top of her satchel, and out pulled her signature bottle. The nearly two-liter bottle itself, still branded proudly with the Centrolandic insignia, if a but muddied by the thorough residue of the gas ruining any metalwork upon it. She presented it forward, holding out the label in front of Luke.
Admiral Aufrey's Finest Centrolandic Rum
100 Proof
1.75 Litres
"Let's...make something of our birthdays." she suggested.
Luke noticed her fidget in her seat and grew even more curious to what could make her be that way. Soon though she reveled it to him as she mentioned his late birthday and frowned slightly, not sure where she was going with this, but he hoped it was good enough to bring it up now. He was a bit surprised to hear her birthday was at the same time all hell went loose and shook his head, silently finding a sad humor in the fact both their birthdays were ruined by this damn war. Luke looked back to her eyes to see that she composed herself much better and began to pull something out of her satchel. It took him a second to figure out what it was, the slightly muddied object all to familiar to him. His eyes widened slightly as she showed him the label and gave an impressed whistle.
"Admiral Aufrey, eh? Been a while since I had that bad boy," he said before glancing back up to her, blowing a bit of smoke from his lungs to the side as he arched a brow in slight confusion as she suggested they try to make up for both of their late birthdays. He stared at her for a few silent seconds, looking for any tricks within her eyes.
Soon he let out a bark of laughter and slapped his knee. It took a few seconds to compose himself, but soon he wiped a tear from his eye and looked back to her, his grin wide as he flicked some ashes from his smoke.
"So let me get this straight. You, a Darkie, want to share a bottle of good rum with me, a Dirthead if I remember correctly, to make up for our late birthdays?" he paused as he kept his gaze with hers before speaking up again.
"And there aren't any tricks?" he added before leaning back in his seat and staring at her in silence. After taking another puff he let a grin spread onto his face and released the chemicals out of his nose before shrugging.
"Sure, why not? How am I gonna pass up free rum?" he said with a chuckle before ruffling his slightly still wet hair.
"Just hope you can keep up.""Take the damn rum." She commanded, foisting the bottle onto Luke. A bit rough, certainly, but if anything, she was insistent upon giving him something that resembled a present.
Yet, his challenge of drinking along with her was met with difficulty, signaled by her scowling sharp demeanor. Visibly shaking, Inès shook her head at his insistence of turning the affair into a challenge.
"I hate rum." Inès told him, a hissing tone to it, almost, only hushing out of courtesy for the brownhead.
He chuckled as she forced the rum into his hands and held up the bottle, inspecting the bottle and feeling a small smile come to his face. He glanced back to her and noticed she may be getting annoyed with his teasing, her scowl usually a sign he was about to get hit. Though it never did. He stared at her for a moment as she stated she hated rum and looked back to the bottle before looking back to her. A small smile came to his face and he gave a grateful nod towards the Darcsen.
"Thanks, it may be late, but I appreciate it," he thanked her before cracking open the bottle and taking whiff of the familiar smell of rum. He glanced back to her with an arched brow.
"Well I hope your hate for rum won't hold you back in enjoying this with me," he said before holding up the bottle and giving a large grin before taking his cigarette out of his mouth.
"To the Federation then! Lets hope we can get this whole shit show over with soon!" he said before taking a nice swig of rum, enjoying the taste of and letting out a satisfied sigh. He looked back to Ines and chuckled before offering her a drink.
"Lets make it last.""À votre santé." Inès saluted, nodding the neck of the bottle up to Luke. She took a slight swig back, maintaining it while she audibly gulped. The bottle came back, Inès coming with a huff. A snort came after, Inès' brow furrowing as she took the stiff drink in. She held it in hand loosely about the base, shaking her head while the drink did process.
In due time - after due silence - she looked back up at Luke. Not a welcoming sight, by many metrics, yet Inès did clearly put on as neutral a face as the Darcsen could make for sake of conversation. She did another take of rum, this one much shorter, then posed the bottle back.
"What are you doing here?" she questioned, her voice lighter, less heavy than what Luke was accustomed to. Her hand posed up, almost as if extending a helping hand, yet was clearly simply conversational etiquette.
"I mean, what made you join the army?"Luke smirked in slight amusement as the Darcsen took a swig, chuckling lightly as she shook her head. It seemed like she really did hate rum. He shrugged as she looked back to him, an amused smirk still on his face. He was a bit surprised to see her take another hit of rum and chuckled as she handed the bottle back. As he took the rum back he arched a brow in slight surprise as she questioned why he was here, her tone somewhat different than usual. She clarified what she meant and fell silent for a moment. He leaned back while taking a sip from his drink as he though on her question. What was he doing here? After gulping down wave of rum, a pleasant shiver running down his bare back, he looked back to her with a smirk.
"A fresh start I guess," he simply said, his expression softer than usual as he said the words and glanced to the ground, stealing another sip from the bottle to encourage his explanation before shaking his head.
"I was nothing but a peasant farmer, a nobody to the rest of the world. I was sick of feeling useless and decided, after generations of farmers in my family, I'd become something greater," he said, frowning slightly as he stared at the ground.
"I refuse to be forgotten like them, like my father, a great man that died way to early," he said as his free hand clenched into a fist before he took one last swig of rum and wiping his mouth clear.
"Plus, it's also for them," he added before pulling out the picture of his sisters and offering her the photo.
"I want to prove to them we're destined for greater things," he said with a small smile as he glanced to the picture before offering the rum back to her.
As she listened to his reasoning's, it really did all resound with her; It all reinforced what she thought of him. She smirked. Always satisfying to be proven correct it was, but that made his plight no less important, nor did Inès know that it was any reason to look upon it any differently. In many ways, she found herself to be all too much like him. Like a dirthead the two made fun of, coming together over something so innocuous as making a fortune for themselves. Her blue eyes lock to his, just following his declaration to be something more.
Inside her bag, she reached in, feeling around as she just glanced down for a bare moment. The bag moved just slightly, falling flat as she withdrew it, item in hand.
Two small, silver gloves flung, falling into Luke's lap.
"I made a name for myself." she related, smiling at him.
"When I was a little girl, I was..." Her grin grew a bit wider, obviously drawing upon nostalgia.
"I fought everyone. Everyone fought me. And I fought back, and I was good at it. And ever since I was a little girl, I knew I had too much talent to work in a factory. That's what I wanted to do; I wanted to fight."Inès took another swig of rum, coughing once, yet the pain did nothing to detract her from her wide grin. Those sharp Darcsen eyes drew back on Luke, laughing on their own, as if Inès were rejoicing with the warmth of an old friend.
"When I was twelve, I started learning savate. Chausson. Canne de combat. I fought my first ring fight when I was thirteen. And I loved it.""I fought twice a month. Sometimes, I'd fight more outside of the gym." Her finger points down at her silver gloves, the smile only emaciated by pride could produce clear.
"And when I was eighteen, I was Gante Argente; the champion."Luke arched a brow as a pair of gloves fell into his lap and picked them up, inspecting the silver gloves with a bit of interest. He glanced back up at her and couldn't help but smirk in amusement as she grinned before explaining her early days as a fighter. He chuckled a bit as she took another sip of rum and coughed, but that didn't stop her grin from showing and her eyes feeling less hostile towards him than usual. Luke listened as she told him about her growing as a fighter in her youth. Honestly he was a bit impressed to hear of her accomplishments and smirked as she said the name she earned.
"Gante Argente huh?" he mused aloud as he looked up to her and nodded his head.
"Impressive, must have been a fierce little thing in the ring. I wouldn't mind seeing one of those fights actually, you sound like you can give a good show," he chuckled before snapping his fingers and feeling a smile spread across his face.
"Ya know I think I actually heard about you one time. Some fellow was passing through our town and I was working in the tavern when he was going on about some pretty entertaining fights. He was drunk off his ass, but I think I heard him say something about a blue haired fighter that would beat the crap out of their opponents," he chuckled and shook his head before looking back at her with a arched brow.
"Tell me, why did you join? You still trying to make a name for yourself, or what?"Inès laughed, like Luke told her a joke. Not in the humblest of ways, either; This came as a haughty laugh, as if Luke were insulting his own intelligence by bothering to ask so basic a question. The Darcsen looked on him like he were a confused child, almost motherly, even. She extended her arms out, opening up her posture while her palms remained open.
"Look at me." she responded,
"What else can I do? Work in a factory? No. Sift through mail? No. Go run through alleys and become some gutter trash mugger? Fuck that. I've worked too damn hard to get to where I am, and I'm not throwing it all away by becoming some thug in one of Ostend's gangs.""What can a Darcsen girl from the city do? I can fight. That's the only thing I can do well. And if there were any more savate fights in Ostend, I wouldn't be here. But we've always been good fighters, and good fighters make good soldiers, so we're told. Most tireurs were drafted, and...well, I joined because that's all I'm good for." Inès, in some senses, lowered her hands in defeat. The blankness as she looked down just slightly almost confirmed it, spare that glint in her eyes that burned like pure blue flame. It almost seemed watery, in a sense, for Inès so clearly did call upon stories of old she looked upon so favorably. An exhale broke the mood, her head lightly shaking side to side, just thereafter raising back to meet Luke.
"You don't need to be here." Inès suggested, turning her head to the side,
"You have a whole farm, a family. A hair color that doesn't match the ocean. You should do something with yourself. Go to college."Luke frowned slightly, not in annoyance, but in thought as Ines told him he didn't need to be there. In a sense she was right, any sane person would never abandon and a loving family, he even ran his fingers through his hair as she mentioned its color, a bit surprised at that fact bothered him a little. He chuckled lightly as she said he should go to college and flicked his cigarette away. He stayed silent for a moment, his eyes directed towards the ground and a tired expression on his face. Soon he took a deep breath and shook his head.
"I had a farm, but I haven't been there since I was ten. To many... bad memories," he said, his voice hesitant towards the end as he rubbed his throat, his mother returning to his thoughts.
"And it's true I have a good family, mostly a foster family, but a family nonetheless. Honestly most people would think I was insane for leaving all that behind and coming to this shithole," he paused as he swallowed any hesitation before sighing and hanging his head, rubbing the back of his head as a sad smile rest on his face.
"If I'm going to be honest though, the longer I stayed there the more it was killing me. Hell, if I stayed I'd probably be dead by now," he chuckled bitterly before looking back up to her with a dull smile and his eyes suddenly heavy.
"I couldn't do it anymore, it was to painful to stay there, even with so many blessings surrounding me. I had to leave, I had to make my own path. Even if I die in this war, at least I'll die knowing I died following my goals and not at home, drowning in my own sadness," he sighed again and rubbed his lower jaw, noticing a small stubble of hair beginning to come in. He looked back up to her and shrugged.
"Plus it's not like I don't have plans after this. I heard I could go to school if I survive the war so I was gonna go to rise in the ranks," he smirked as he tapped the side of his head and took the bottle back from her.
"See, I can think ahead," he chuckled lightly before taking a large swig of rum with pleasure.
Luke spoke, yet Inès kept her head down, eyes fixated on the picture. Two earthheads, she could only assume, from the grainy filter of the black-and-white photograph. They were cute things, though, Inès thought. She was supposed to be the "baby" of the family, yet she did all of the raising, she thought. Secretly, Inès had always wondered what it was like to have siblings, actual siblings. Guy was...distant. In many ways, notwithstanding the physical nature of him being an ocean away. No, Inès always found him more of an afterthought. Truth be told, often times she had to actively recall she had someone to call a brother, for she shared him in blood only halfway, and in bond none whatsoever. To have someone - never mind two people - there with you, looking with you and there after you...Inès felt jealousy.
Neither could she condone his methodology, for Inès knew she was going to do nothing in a factory or mill. Continue to barely escape poverty, most likely, and otherwise let her talents and passions alike squander to so-called "realities of the world", as Inès did demean them. Life had their complications, and...Inès knew she made it no easier in many of those times. Yet, she knew it was what she had to do; Doing otherwise would have wasted so much more.
She folded her wrist over, tilting the photograph back over to Luke. A faint grin plastered on her face, the shocktrooper made eye contact, slightly melancholic. A chuckle she shared with him over his comments on thinking, and Inès shared her thoughts as well, while on the line of thinking.
"They're cute." she complimented, trading the picture for the rum,
"I...hope it works out for you, then. I just...want to go back to the ring, I think. There's...there's something about it, like you say. It's not like war. When you lose in a fight there, it's because the other person's just better than you, and you can use that to get better. The tricks are...not "honorable." Heh...I suppose they're creative. You can admire them. You can't admire poison clouds.""And...and when you finally win a fight, and you have the whole crowd chanting your name, it's..." Inès smiled wide. A smile Luke never thought was possible. Genuine, whole, warm.
"It's amazing to feel. It's so...flattering. It's like...everything doesn't matter, but that one moment. You have fans. People look up to you. Somebody you have never met will go and say, "Oh my God, Inès, you're amazing!", and it's the most humbling thing."Luke ran his thumb over his picture of his sisters and smiled softly before looking back up to Ines as she said she wanted to go back to the ring. He nodded in agreement, as she went on about the perks of being a fighter he couldn't help but find her love for the ring amusing. He paused though as she caught him off guard with a smile, a real smile. He froze for a second, silently admitting her smile was quite warming. It even looked adorable as she continued on about fighting and chuckled as she gave an impression of a fan calling her amazing. He smiled and cupped his hands together as he leaned forward with a sigh.
"I can only imagine the feeling. The only thing people say to me is, *'You asshole!', or 'Put your pants on!' Something along those lines anyways," he chuckled with a shrug.
"Who knows, maybe one day I can be your opponent in the ring, see which ones better. The country boy or the city girl," he smirked in amusement.
"But I'll definitely have to see you in the ring. I have a strange urge to see the great Gante Argente in action.""Gante Argente isn't my name." she corrected,
"It's a title. It means, "silver glove". All it means is that I'm good enough to be called maître." Before continuing, Inès realized using more Francian terminology was going to do Luke no favors. Quickly, she adjusted herself to an addendum.
"...that means, "master"." she finished.
A small chuckle escaped him as he was corrected and held up his hands in defeat, his smile widening a bit in amusement. He arched a brow as she clarified what it meant and laughed.
"Master eh? Well I guess it fits, your slaps definitely feel different from other women that have hit me. I just thought you were freakishly strong and had big hands," he laughed again before shaking his head with a sigh. Luke found himself staring off in the distance for a moment before looking back to Ines with a small frown. He glanced to her blue hair for a moment and back to her eyes before letting out a heavy sigh and rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, this may be the rum talking but... I should probably..." he paused for a moment before biting back any hesitation and continuing.
"Apologize about before. Ya know, when we entered the city," he said with a small frown and glancing away as he apologized.
"Probably wasn't the best idea for first introductions," he chuckled bitterly.
Inès glimmered over his apology, instead swiftly taking a stiff drink from the bottle, always accompanied by her coarse coughing, of course. Yet, as she looked up, it was not of acceptance of the typical type, but of, again, misguidance. Luke's series of faux pas were bewildering to the Francian before him - or if it so comforted him in this moment, the Darcsen before him - that she truly did believe it was the rum that was speaking. Rum-speak was not always negative, as she knew from her mother, and even could show to reflect who Luke really was. If he was who he really was, then he would need to face the issues that came with dignity, not run from them like the coward he eyed away from.
"Spare me." Inès commented, waving it away like it were a fly in the air,
"If there's someone you should apologize to, it's Jean."She fumed her eyes around, slowly simmering them to a steady, cooler burn. Her head shook once, setting the bottle aside for a more serious point of discussion. Luke need not make contact nor gesture, for Inès seemed to know full well what objections he might have toward the idea, and, so like a sister, gave him the steady stare that demanded he stop running from responsibility.
"...he...may not be the bravest. But you don't need bravery. We need to survive. He's just...not..." Inès fumbled, stumbling over the right words while the rum clouded her mind.
"...it would mean a lot to him if you did. And...you don't want to have the person in charge of reporting to the people who promote you on their bad side." Inès reminded him.
Luke cringed slightly as she mentioned Jean, another person who was due an apology. He looked back to her as she put the bottle down and rubbed the back of his neck as she explained why Jean was due in apology. He felt like a child being lectured to after doing something wrong, but he may have deserved it. He sighed as she finished and nodded his head.
"I know I need to say something, I know that," he said as he rubbed his forehead as his mind started to cloud up a bit.
"It's not like I don't like the guy. He obviously cares for the team and that always a good thing, but it's just..." he paused for a moment before looking around to see if anyone was close enough to hear. He leaned in closer and looked Ines straight in the eyes.
"It's how he leads is what I don't like. I understand he's in charge and there's no changing that, but the way does things just, well, bothers me," he said before shaking his head.
"For example, whenever we move out through the city he mostly takes point. To some that's not to bad, but think about it, we're surrounded by pissed off and dug in Imps that are just waiting for us to walk around some corner to fill us with lead and who'll be the first one around that corner? The man on point, a.k.a Jean. Plus, that Green Fox fuck is somewhere around here and hunting for people like him. I know it sounds crazy, but I'd prefer if he'd put someone like me up there to take point," he said as he tapped his chest.
"I'm just a private, he's a lieutenant and the leader of our squad. If he goes down, then the whole squads fucked," he says before gesturing towards the whole camp filled with his team and patted his chest.
"If I go down then all that happens is that you all are going to need a new Rifleman. To the higher ups, his life is more valuable than mine. And again, at the risk of sounding foolish or crazy, I agree," he said with a shrug and leaning back.
"My job is to follow orders, so who's gonna give me any damn orders when our team leader has a fucking hole between his eyes?" he finished and let out a small sigh, finally done with his rant.
In a grim display, Inès responded,
"I've had that happen." She sits for a moment. Her eyes stare off, unfocused.
"...it's...you don't last long...if you can't think for yourself." Inès simply finished. Whatever Luke had done, it...struck her.
Luke noticed the far off stare from Ines and realized he may have said something to upset her. A small sigh escaped him as he rubbed his hands and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm usually a happy drunk, not a downer," he apologized with a thin smile. He glanced up at her, frowning a bit at her staring off. "You alright?" he asked, slight concern in his voice.
"...yes, I-"
LOOK OUT, MA'AM!Her sight went blurry. Her ears went deaf. She was somewhere she didn't know and she knew not how.
"...I'm fine." Inès snapped back Her eyes blinked, settling back in as they adjusted to the tent's vision. Slowly, she repurposed herself, repositioning back to a more comfortable stance. Facing Luke forward, she looks at him, smiling slightly back.
"Jean is...still learning." she insisted, giving a light shrug to him,
"But if you're worried about it, you should...you know..." Her hands motion, circling as she seemed to search for the words.
"Let him know. He would...appreciate it."Luke was a bit relieved to see her snap out of whatever trance she was in. He didn't want to lose his drinking buddy already. He arched a brow before taking the bottle of rum and taking a decent swig and nearly choking as she said he should just tell Jean his thoughts of commanding the team.
"You crazy? Last time I tried to point out any of my higher ups flaws I got stuck with latrine duty. With my tooth brush," he shivered at the memory and sighed.
"Besides, it's clear the man doesn't enjoy my company, which is normal really, but I doubt he'd want a guy like me to tell him how to handle his team," Luke rubbed his chin in thought before shaking his head.
"But it's true it can't go on like this. Sooner or later he'll need to change how he does things. Fine, I'll tell him when I come up with an apology," he said before giving her a smirk and a grateful nod.
Inès sighed.
"Do you want me to come with you?" she offered.
A bark of laughter escaped Luke and he shook his head with a grin. "Do I look like a kid? No, I'll tell him when I'm ready. For now though, lets relax and celebrate our late birthdays huh?" he chuckled before taking another swing and handing her the bottle.
"If you say so." she relegated, motioning the bottle back, then stopping halfway. She peered inside the darker bottle, gauging what was left, it seemed, and in those swirls of amber, she seemed to set it back.
"How's the new girlfriend?" Speaking of relaxing...
"W-what?" he asked as before pausing for a moment, arching a brow towards Ines in slight confusion.
"What new girlfriend?" he questioned, truthfully unaware who this Darcsen was talking about.
Inès laughed, throwing herself back as the precious moment came over her. Intoxication likely had something to do with making the moment significantly warmer and fuzzier to her, yet detract from that notion it certainly did not. Realigning herself, Inès sat up from her position, posing a hand forward.
"The sandhead you got to see in her natural state." Inès reminded him, obviously signifying Diana.
For a moment Luke remained clueless as to who she was talking about and tilted his head in slight confusion as he tried to remember who she was talking about. The booze in his system didn't help in his efforts to remember. Soon though he realized what she was talking about and coughed a bit, clearing his throat and looking away as the memory of that night of shame. His cheeks reddened a bit as he remembered a nude Diana, her soft lips against his, her perfect hour glass figure and her massive pair of- he shook his head clear to get the thoughts out of his head and frowned a bit towards Ines.
"One, that little shrimp isn't my girlfriend. Two, that was nothing but a bet gone bad," he stated with a firm nod, though he still looked embarrassed about the topic.
"I could never be with a woman like that. To naïve," he said with the shake of his head.
"Hehe, alright." Inès giggled, taking the bottle while she held it loosely between her fingers. Quickly, she posed another question back to Luke.
"Then what's your type?" she asked. Her eyebrow raised, sly and smug while she asked. If one simple remembrance was going to turn him red, then his tastes would steam him to a lobster bisque. Preparing for the onslaught, she laughed in attempt to break up the mood.
Luke rubbed the back of his neck as she asked him his type and glanced away as he tried to think up a reply. What was his type? As he thought about it Luke realized that he's never really thought about what type of woman he'd prefer. He's never had time to date, plus he's never been that much of a sweet talker. Luke cleared his throat and shrugged.
"I never really thought about it honestly," he muttered, feeling a tad embarrassed by his reply.
"I guess someone who's loyal, maybe someone who's in uniform. Some of the women officers in their formal uniforms always look good," he said before shaking his head and looking to Ines with a nervous smile.
"Honestly I've... never really been with any woman. I was always working to really find someone," he admitted with a sheepish chuckle. When the rum wears off he'll probably regret telling her his lack of experience with women, but his mind was to clouded to care.
Loyalty and uniforms. Where had she heard those ones before?
The reminiscence forced Inès to grin. Hearing Luke display and think on his exact tastes was, in all honesty, a heavy subject, if Inès felt fair. Such a discussion would warrant some mutual degree of understanding with one another, as well as being accustomed with one another to the point of allowing both parties to speak freely on the subject. The topic seemed...pleasant, almost, for Inès had much on the mind in the area, especially in the past month, and in many ways needed someone to talk to regarding those events. Freya was kind, and Franz was understanding, true, yet third opinions relegated to the status quo, and allowed an outsider's onlook into the state of affairs; Such a dialectic Inès thought she required, time to time.
At this end, the shock trooper giggled back, nodding along to Luke's most modest admittance in regards to his romantic history. Everyone needed to start somewhere, Inès knew.
"Don't worry. Women can be a headache!" Inès tittered loudly, widening her smile as she made her bold declaration. A swig back, and Inès did cough once more, rupturing out into a steady voice as she foisted the bottle back unto Luke.
"Here's to all the lovely women in our lives." she guffawed.
Luke chuckled as Ines said women could be a headache and nodded in agreement before taking back the rum as she handed back to him. He raised the bottle up and smirked towards Ines.
"To ladies then! God bless em all," he chuckled before taking in another decent swig of rum, shuttering slightly as a satisfying shiver ran up his spine. He looked to the bottle and shook his head to see how much was left.
"If only we had more than one bottle," he said with sigh before remembering something he had gotten a few weeks back. He dug into the back of his pockets before pulling out a golden ring with a small red gem in the middle. He looked to his bottle and back to Ines, bouncing the ring up and down in his hand. Luke soon shrugged and extended the ring towards her.
"Here, since you got me a nice little present then I should at least return the favor," he said before he nodded to the ring.
"Not sure if you're much of jewelry girl, but it could be nice to punch people with it on."A ring, he said? It caught her interest, of course, yet a ring for half a bottle of rum felt like an odd deal to be making. She picked the ring between her thumb and finger, rotating it about lightly as she twisted its glean in the light. Even through its grimy filter spent in a wartime pocket, it still did maintain its illustrious shine, refracting a radiant red rose through the setting. Her smile dissipated, softening, lowering to neutrality the longer she stared into it. She seemed to become focused, in a sense, as if she were reading something inscribed minutely along the gilded band. In short time, Inès would retract, nodding once as she grinned in warm appreciation to the brownhair.
"...thank you." she softly thanked, wrapping the ring in some manner of cloth she dug from her bag before sticking it securely in a side pouch. Luke could swear her voice held charm to it, quaint and soft, like a mother or sister's comfort, as if the softness of her voice blanketed Luke in some manner of appreciation he never thought possible from a Darcsen.
"You know, I-..." Inès paused herself, looking down with a frown. So like her, it was, to bring up the harsh when so soon ago did she attempt to lighten the mood. Yet, there were some questions that needed answering, and to what other occasion she could afford responses, Inès never knew for certain. Her eyes level once again with Luke's, glistening with a slight watery softness.
"... I have...never really...dressed myself up." Inès noted to Luke,
"I've never been able to afford it. And the one time I could..." Inès laughed shortly. The hushed tone sprawled about melancholy, yet clear nostalgia.
"It was for my sixteenth birthday. And...hehe...that's how I came out to my mom."Luke's eyebrows rose a bit in slight surprise to hear she never dressed up and gave small smirk of amusement, though it dulled as she told him the reason. He was aware she may have had it tough growing up, but for some reason it still surprised him a bit. His smile softened slightly as she told him the only time she managed to dress herself up and chuckled lightly.
"Must have been a good birthday," he said before looking at Ines with a arched brow, his eyes scanning her appearance while rubbing the bottom of his chin before shrugging with a smirk.
"I bet you'd look nice if you threw on a dress right now," he stated with a grin.
"Shut up." she smirked back, lightly pushing him while she teased him back. The flushed pink of her cheeks went well with her blue hair, though. Maybe a nice blue dress with pink highlights? Or perha-
"Tell me when Luke started to want to see a dark haired girl in a pretty dress." Inès poked at him, a wide, laughing smile on her face.
Luke laughed as Ines questioned when he want to see a dark haired woman in a dress and shook his head with a smirk.
"When this rum entered my system I think. I always want odd things when I'm not sober," he chuckled before shrugging.
"But you would look good in one," he said truthfully before smirking in amusement and letting out a small sigh.
"Definitely look better than me if I wore a dress.""But which one of us would look better in a suit?" Inès queried, raising an eyebrow as if this were the real question to be answered.
A grin came to Luke's face as he thought about her question and chuckled.
"Well I think that's an easy answer..." From there the two soldiers, both once indifferent towards one another, sat within the tent bantering and laughing with each other. Time seemed to escape them as the two enjoyed each others company, even when they ran out of rum they found new topics to keep their small party going. As the day progressed the two kept to themselves, neither of them concerned what was outside of Luke's tent, mostly thanks to the birthday rum. They didn't even noticed as the evening began to roll around. Luke himself nearly forgot there was even a war going on outside. This was the first time in a long time that he's actually enjoyed himself, though he never thought in his life time he'd have a Darcsen drinking buddy. Ines was... she was different from the other Darcsens he's encountered in past. Sure she was bit of a pain at first, but now drinking with her Luke couldn't help but start to like the woman. It was probably the rum making him think that, but for now it didn't matter. The two of them were celebrating their late birthdays together. As comrades.