houseofcards_rp | [ota] so much thought, so little time

Julien's trainees have all scattered for the evening. If he were to be truthful, they've all come quite a ways and he calculates most of them will be ready for their own assignments elsewhere soon enough. Then, he supposes, he'll have to take on a few more or find some other way to fill his time.

Which is why he's working, somewhat mechanically, against a practice dummy. The practice is good for keeping his body fit and loose, but the routine is rote enough to let him focus more on his thoughts and less on the exercise.

He could, of course, concern himself more closely with the rumors of unrest among certain factions of the Deck. Even if it wasn't strictly his duty.

Or, and the thought brings a twitch of a smile to his lips, he could surprise everyone by taking a vacation and visiting the beach. Might be worth it just for the expressions. Would be more worth it if he could make it useful, somehow.

Soon enough, though, Julien is finished and moving away to scoop up a waiting bottle of water and drop down on a nearby bench for a few moments as he towels his face and arms off. Somewhere in there, he'll wave at whomever is nearest, "your turn."

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At least he wasn't quite so grunty as he once was.

"I had no idea you wanted me to come visit you. Should I bring tea and biscuits by next time?"

Sarcasm, maybe, but at least he's sarcastically suggesting there would be a next time.

"Chives might have your head if you tried," he commented with a rueful grin, even if he didn't really think Julien would show up at his office unless someone was dead or dying or possibly, if he was feeling nice enough that day, the castle was on fire.

"And yes, I do prefer distractions preferably lasting six hours or longer so I don't have to do any work."

Chives might actually let Julien get away with something like that, but there's no need to point such things out. "I believe you know other people who would be that distracting." Lasse, for instance.

"But for the moment, you're stuck with me."

"Are you accusing me of having friends, Julien? You know, most of them are good for your health." Even if they may have a rather significant negative impact on workplace productivity if the six hour distractions were a regular occurrence.

"You make it sound like you're bad company."

"I've heard that. I'm afraid I've seen little benefit." But when your closest friend was someone you had fought with as much as anything and then he had the temerity to go off and get himself killed well...

People like Eileen and Victor were in their own very different categories.

"And you and I both know there is little falsehood in that statement." Not that it appears to be something that keeps Julien up at nights.

"You may reconsider that if you acquire enough friends that you can at least count them up on two hands rather than one." And though Michael might not be a friend, but that didn't mean he wouldn't drop everything and do anything for Julien.

Not saying that that was particularly healthy either, of course.

"You're not bad company. Though I wouldn't complain if you smiled a little more from time to time, and not only just before you deck someone in the face."

That does, at least prompt an answer smile. "How else should I warn someone they're about to get punched?"

See, it's called being polite. Or something.

"Most people raise their arm and clench their fist." Or was that too conventional for Julien? There might otherwise be a lot of false warnings if, heaven forbid, Julien did start smiling more often outside of a training space.

"Don't you think if someone's let it get that far they're already too late to stop the fist?" At least it sounds like he's planning on having a reasonable conversation about something slightly ridiculous.

It is possible that Michael and Julien area prime example of the concept of nurture over nature.

"Are you going to suggest I improve at inane small talk next?"

"Not a Spade, as far as I've seen. Most are still very good at avoiding getting themselves beaten up too badly." Besides, how often did Julien throw punches outside of a training space where punches were more or less expected to come?

"Baby steps. We can work on small talk next year. Though there's already enough people who are too good at it."

More than one might expect. Well, up until his little tiff with Säde had turned out badly for him.

"Then you really don't need another. I'd rather just keep to what I do best." Even if what he does best is currently being done by someone else.

"Well I hope one day you'll consider becoming good at something else." Realistically speaking, this kind of thing Julien prided himself in wasn't going to work out for him long-term.

"Even if it's not going to be small talk."

"You'll have to give me some suggestions sometime. Maybe over tea."

The thought of the two of them have tea in a formal sitting room is entertaining, anyway, if only for the looks they might get.

"Should I bring some knitting needles and borrow a cat for our tea appointment, then?" There's an idea for the inevitable future decline. Socks and sweaters would fly off the shelf at this time of the year.

More likely than not there would be alcohol in the tea and an ashtray on a small adjacent table.

"You might be good at more than just throwing them at a target."

"You know...I've never tried that with knitting needles. Might be worth a shot."

Literally.

"Has anyone told you lately that you're dangerous to be around?" Because it was worth mentioning even though it was fairly obvious.

"Not in the last hour at least. Has anyone ever told you you're more dangerous than you look?"

He pays attention.

"Often, in the kitchen when I'm fumbling with a knife." Deliberate misinterpretation, perhaps, but you couldn't tell he'd done it on purpose when his smile was so innocent.

"Ri-ight. I'll make sure to have someone else do the cooking then." You know, when he comes for dinner. Because he does things like that.

That does earn him an amused rise of the eyebrows.

"As much as I would love to have you over, my cave out in Town hasn't been tidied since I moved in, and I shouldn't take the pleasure of serving you meals from Chives. He'll have my head."

[ota] so much thought, so little time

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