Like Real People Do (Closed, PM for entry)

[Charlotte]

After two more days of travel, the small caravan had finally reached the small village of Marshmere, which sat just on the other side of the river from Lucerne. It was another sleepy town, much like Krossen had been, though the men here made their living from fishing rather than farming. While they were close to the still illian-controlled part of Bern, the town also had a steady income in allowing the rebellion to store wares and things like the siege parts in their barns. Not many Illians passed through considering they were in a marsh area, making it hard for a troop to march through, but the ones who did never found anything they weren’t supposed to.

The caravan’s arrival had been expected and welcomed by the villagers, and they had quickly gotten to work hiding away the new delivery, as well as distributing the goods that were brought as payment for their harboring of the siege parts. While the men who had travelled with them helped, Charlotte had gone off to meet with Christoffer, one of the rebel organizers who stayed in Marshmere organizing anything that arrived and passed through. The man had asked to speak with her alone, so she had told Rogus just that and said she’d meet with him afterwards; she knew it was nothing personal, just the way that some of the organizers liked doing their business.

After giving her report on the situation and success of the mission, Charlotte received her pay and left, headed towards the spot Rogus and she had agreed to meet at after her meeting with Christoff. It wasn’t anyplace fancy, simply the rear of the local groghouse near some wooden crates and barrels. But it was quiet and gave them some room to talk. Which, as the two of them likely realized, was something they needed to do before they continued on.

In Krossen, the two had been personal, close, almost inappropriately so considering their status as “business partners.” At least, that was what Charlotte thought they were. But when her chest now tightened at the sight of his blood and bruises after being captured by the Illians, she knew something had changed after that afternoon of dancing and drinking. It might have been small, it might have been insignificant, but it was present now and needed to be addressed. Anything that made her miss a step warranted addressing.

Charlotte was notorious for overthinking things, but she knew it came with the territory of her job. She made roadmaps in her head for all of the different ways this could end up, and she knew how it would end. In fact, she’d already experienced something similar only a few years earlier, and she knew how absolutely frightening it was that it might be happening again. She didn’t mind casual flings here and there, especially with someone as easy on the eyes as Rogus, but considering how much they had shared, she wasn’t so sure whatever they were could be as casual as she would like.

So a new coin-pouch tied to her belt, Charlotte lifted herself up to sit on one of the crates as she waited for her partner to appear.

[Rogus]

Unlike his partner, Rogus had no business to attend to before their scheduled meet. To pass the time Rogus "oversaw" the last stages of dropping off the last caravan's cargo, though it would be more accurate to say he napped in the back of a cart the whole time. Menial labor wasn't quite his thing, and due to his injuries from the encounter with the Ilians no one expected him to do any real work. It left him with plenty of relatively quiet alone time to ponder how the next part of the day would play out.

Back in Krossen, Rogus had expressed a wish to tell Charlotte how he ended up the way he had, but he doubted that would be all the two would talk about. The thief knew their meeting would end one of two ways; everything being resolved one way or another and the two continue their partnership, perhaps something more, or they would go their separate ways and never speak again. The scariest part was that he wasn't sure which outcome he'd be happier with. This was no trivial matter, if the two of them couldn't be close personally and behave in a professional manner while working together they would be endangering each other and their business partnership would likely fail.

While he was compelled to take the easy way out and run, Rogus also had told Charlotte he wanted to tell her the rest of his story. He was nothing if not a man of his word, and would at the very least stay long enough to share it. He hated the idea of becoming close to someone again. Rogus had simply been alone for too long. He had no problem with the casual fling here and there, but the way Charlotte and him carried on in the tavern was not casual. The game of sharing secrets had become something much more serious, and emotion got dragged in. The man couldn't deny he was attracted to Charlie, but it wasn't just for her beauty. In a way they were something of kindred spirits, at least from Rogus's point of view. They both always carried a wall in front of them, her's was admittedly a bit heavier, shielding themselves from personal attachment and acting as a mask for their true feelings and thoughts. Rogus brushed away any thoughts that it was the alcohol that brought the walls down, and wagered that the two had simply found some sort of common ground or understanding that made bringing down the walls comfortable, effortless.

The more he thought about it, the more he just wanted to get it over with. He ended his nap abruptly and slowly made his way to the planned meeting spot. Rogus hadn't been doing anything but lazing around so his absence was hardly even noticed by any of the men unloading the last of the cargo. With a slight limp in his gait he walked the five or so minutes it took to reach the designated groghouse, and rounded the corner to the building's rear. To his surprise, a gorgeous blonde sat on one of the many crates, waiting for him. Judging from the new purse on her belt her meeting must have gone well.

"Fancy meeting you here." He said with a hint of playful sarcasm. Rogus limp-walked to a box adjacent to the one Charlotte sat on. He lifted his pack of belongings off his less injured shoulder and pulled out a bottle of spiced rum along with two small metal cups and offered her one of them.

"I figured we should make a toast to a job well done before we start." He paused with a knowing grin, "I'm not trying to find an excuse to drink, promise. It is a rather good one though."

[Charlotte]

As soon as the brown-haired thief rounded the corner, Charlotte’s eyes shifted from her toes to him, smiling as their gazes connected. He was still limping, but he was up and moving, which was definitely a good thing. While the blonde couldn’t assess the full extent of his recovery since he was clothed, Charlotte could see that the swelling in his face had largely gone down, and the bruises on his cheek and jaw were starting to change color from blue to yellow, which meant they would soon be gone as well. She was glad to be able to see, despite the state she’d found him in, that he was starting to look better.

He certainly hadn’t had his sense of humor beaten out of him, that was for sure. She chuckled as he joked, watching him as he moved to the crate next to her. Still standing, Rogus set down his pack and revealed a bottle of rum, but was sure to be clear of his intentions. While Charlotte was no stranger to the spirits, she’d made it clear multiple times that she didn’t look fondly on overzealous and constant drinking, especially when working – which seemed to be her companion’s modus operandi. Granted, she’d broken her own rule back in Krossen, but for what she saw as good reason. As for Rogus, he always seemed to be able to do what needed to be done, but the liability of it still worried her.

But they were done working now, so Charlotte reminded herself to shake it off as she took the cup from Rogus. “You know, where I’m from its rude to turn down a drink,” she grinned, tipping the cup towards Rogus as an informal toasting motion before taking a sip. It went down surprisingly smooth for being so strong, and she immediately tasted the familiar zing that always came with spiced rum. Still, Charlotte’s palate preferred wine and ales to naked liquor, so she pursed her lips and furrowed her lips as she swallowed.

“Especially when it’s poured in celebration,” Charlotte added, her mind harkening back to her days as an apprentice at the brewery. In retrospect, it would have been a very odd profession for the blonde to end up in, especially since her innate talent for people would have been absolutely wasted. But she’d learned a lot, especially when it came to using taverns for her business. Some people saw taverners as a rowdy, unregulated bunch, but there were so many unspoken grog house rules that sometimes, it even made Charlotte’s head spin. Break just one, and you could have the whole tavern turn on you in an instant. Respect them, and you might be lucky enough to get a scene much like Charlotte and Rogus had in Krossen.

Maybe that was why she’d chosen to have the two of them meet outside of Marshmere’s alehouse, though. The two were natural extroverts, which lent itself well to the tavern environment, but not so much to the whole one-on-one talking thing. There was still a lot that the two wanted to say to each other, and meeting in a tavern just wasn’t conducive to that, even if the two of them would have been more comfortable doing so. Well, Charlotte would have been more comfortable just forgetting any of this ever happened. But she knew Rogus and she worked really well together, so simply running wouldn’t benefit them.

But taking another sip from the small metal cup in her hand, Charlotte found herself unable to start them down that road. As soon as she opened her mouth, more talk of business spilled out. “They didn’t stiff us, which is honestly a surprise,” she said, clearing her throat as she removed the new purse from her belt and placed it on the crate next to Rogus’ pack. “We can split it 50/50, just like we discussed. I’ll even let you count it out,” she joked, though she was silently cursing herself for not just getting straight to what both of them knew they were here for.

[Rogus]

What a beautiful place it must be! The thief winked, "Cheers." He met her cup with his and rather than downing it, he took a moderate sip and set the cup down, there was no point in downing it and not following it up with more shots. Lying back, supporting his angle with his sore arms, and kicking his boots onto the space Charlotte wasn't taking up on her box, Rogus eyed her expectantly knowing she would likely initiate the real discussion. They'd probably be here for a while, might as well try and be comfortable, besides he hated dangling his feet; it just didn't feel right, not having his feet touch some sort of surface that is. She surprised him however, bringing up the thing he was the least worried about instead of being more upfront. It was quite uncharacteristic of her to beat around the bush, and he thought he knew the reason.

"You're nervous too, eh?" Rogus said with a half-hearted chuckle. Aside from the obvious fact that the intention of their meeting was already known to the both of them, the thief could read the subtle hints Charlotte was giving off. The simple fact she had been waiting for him was almost enough, but the way her eyes met his and followed him until he sat down told him that she was just as uneasy as he was. He wagered her mind was buzzing, perhaps even more than usual, trying to find a logical way to approach the topic at hand. Rogus had to give her one thing, she was one hell of a good staller, but he knew matters like this one weren't based in logic. One couldn't systematically deal with the issue, or whatever it was they wanted to call it, with steps or logical solutions. Stuff like this happens or it doesn't, it was just that simple; not everything has a formula. The two of them were good with people, but he wagered she was like him in that having a truthful one on one was just as hard as breaking into a fortress.

"The gold can wait Charlie, we have to talk." Simply admitting that much was difficult. No one liked facing uncertainty, least of all Rogus, a man who prided himself on his ability to figure out the uncertainties of any situation and plan accordingly. He had no plan, no real idea of how to have this kind of 'talk', in fact he found it somewhat funny they'd coordinated a meeting specifically around their personal and professional relationships. The fact of the matter was they needed to bring the walls down again and just have a conversation. They certainly weren't enemies, and he had no intention of betraying her honesty anywhere down the line; Rogus hoped she could figure that out, he certainly wasn't going to say it. As much as he hated calling it a test, the man needed to know if their experience in Krossen happened because they were drunk, or if the two shared a more legitimate connection. He would be lying if he said he didn't care which answer it happened to be, but any answer at all was preferable to just ignoring what happened.

"Honestly, I'm not sure where to start either..." He paused with a slight, but honest grin, "I know this will sound silly, but an old friend of mine told me the reason why most people find it hard to have a real conversation is because everyone wears a mask, some being much harder to take off than others. Whether its to protect themselves from others or simply out of the fear they won't be accepted for who they are, it doesn't really matter. Its rare for people like us to take off our masks because we just don't trust anyone. The nature of our work demands we never take our mask off, but somehow, for some reason we did in Krossen." He paused again, the tactic of winging it, or to be more accurate, pulling all of this out of his arse, was beginning to fail him. Luckily, he managed to create a base from which to work off of, and that was something he had quite a bit of experience with.

If it boils down to something as simple as sex, or being drunk, that's fine sometimes things are just that simple. The facts are we did cross the professional line, and I don't think either of us care about that as much as we're worried about how it will effect our ability to function as partners." He shook his head with a laugh,  he had been thinking about the situation much more than he had realized.  He was surprised he was able to muster up the guts to honestly express the situation as he had seen it without a half bottle of whiskey in his system. Rogus probably could have done without the cliche mask story, although it was true, but at least he managed to start the conversation with something more than "I don't know".

"Am I close, or did I miss the mark entirely?"

[Charlotte]

Charlotte wasn’t one to easily admit that nerves had gotten the best of her; in fact, she usually maintained that nerves didn’t affect her at all. But Rogus saw straight through her anxious attempt to divert the conversation to something safer, something she could quantify and run logical circles around. It was a strange thing to think, but talking about her feelings, in a way, meant the woman had to admit the feelings were there. But was that truly something she could do?

The moment Rogus used her real name, as he had back in the tavern when she’d revealed it to him, Charlotte instantly felt naked, emotionally bare sitting there in front of him. Even if she didn’t want to, she had to acknowledge that she felt something for the man sitting beside her. She was an extremely private person, so much so that only one other person beside Rogus knew her real name. She was deliberate in what she revealed about herself, but it didn’t make it any less strange being reminded that someone else had been granted insight into the “real” her.

“I know, I know,” she finally admitted, sighing as she tried to figure out what to say next. “It’s just…” Her thoughts and speech trailed off, still unable to find the words to verbalize all of the thoughts running through her head. Rogus was able to pick up and carry the conversation for now, though, and Charlotte was more than happy to listen.

In fact, the other thief seemed to know exactly what to say about their situation. While her initial judgment of the man when they’d met had her assuming he was brash drunk with sticky fingers, she knew much better than that now, especially when listening to him explain their current predicament better than she would have been able to. She realized that was likely one of the things Rogus had over her: somehow, he was able to verbalize what they were both feeling into an easily digestible form, even when he was affected. When Charlotte could compartmentalize her personal feelings from whatever she was analyzing, she could talk circles around most, but now, still conflicted over how she might feel, her words were failing her.

As Rogus continued, she knew immediately that they could dismiss this as just being something simple; it wasn’t as innocuous as pure physical attraction, which was why the two of them were having the conversation in the first place. Emotions were getting involved which was dangerous for people of their profession, especially with them now working so closely together. She could only assume it was because they were so alike; they came from opposite ends of the spectrum, but somehow, the traits they’d acquired up to this point were so similar. It made it easy for the former street urchin to relate to the ex-noble, which in turn had made it easier for her to open up as well.

“No, you’re right,” Charlotte finally said, an almost relieved sigh compressing her chest. She moved back slightly on the crate she was sitting on, bringing one leg up so that only one of her legs dangled to the ground; she bent her other leg, lazily resting her arm on it as she pondered over what to say. She knew she was the kind of person who could mull over the right words on this subject all day, so she simply forced herself to say what was on her mind.

“I’m not an emotional person, Rogus,” she started, feeling her throat tighten as she did. It was too late to stop now, though, so she pushed on. “It’s not something that comes easily to me, mostly by choice. You probably know better than most that it’s easier to separate how you feel from,” she motioned flippantly with her hand, “all this. It makes it easier to get the job done. I’ve done a lot of things to ensure my success, but that didn’t come with me getting attached to people.”

She paused, closing her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts. “But when I found you in that tent...” Charlotte stopped again, chest tightening as it had before at the thought. Again the feeling bothered her, and again she pushed it back. “I enjoy your company, I really do. I can’t say there’s been someone I could work with in the past few years without begrudging it. And I guess that’s part of the issue,” because for some reason, part of me cares about what happens to you, she added internally, her voice finally giving way to her inability to deal with her own emotions. She’d realized by now that her eyes had been drifting skyward in her attempts to explain herself, so Charlotte brought her gaze to meet Rogus’ again.

[Rogus]

Rogus's chest tightened when Charlotte mentioned finding him in the Ilian tent. She changed the subject quickly, but the mere mention of it told him enough. She cared in some way, if she didn't the incident of his capture wouldn't strike a nerve. For a moment he became very interested in how many barrels were sitting around them. He still listened to every word, but focusing his gaze on her felt too uncomfortable at the moment. It wasn't because the woman had done anything wrong, Rogus was just too prideful to accept someone being worried about him right away. As soon as Charlotte finished, however, he focused his eyes back on her. If what was said so far told him something else, it was that he could rule out alcohol or more physical urges being the issue. She'd opened up again, not like she had back in Krossen, of course this situation was more serious, but at least they were making progress.

"You know me well enough to know we're in the same boat. I have to say working with you is more enjoyable than it should be. We just work well together, and if I might say, we dance even better." He flashed a grin, "I've never been one for getting attached, or being emotional either, but... Rogus's mind drifted back to what Charlotte had said about the tent, and he realized he may have found a good way to explain how he felt without leaving it unsaid.

He hadn't given it much thought, but when Charlotte found him in the tent he had little to no energy left. Under normal circumstances he would have struggled to walk let alone find the strength to grapple with a soldier and manage to stab him multiple times. Rogus was well known to have a certain issue with controlling his anger, at least among his fellow thieves. But when the soldier caught his partner, threw her to the ground, and grabbed for his sword Rogus managed to find the energy to not only buy Charlie enough time to recover but to withstand another blow to his jaw and stab the man three times.

"About the soldier I killed in the tent... As much as I would love to chalk that up to my stamina and skill, I can't." The thief admitted, he didn't grin or smirk. "We both know I have a... difficult time controlling my anger. When he threw you to the ground I--" He stopped for a breath, the mere thought of it caused his blood to boil, "I shouldn't have been able to do what I did. My only thought was to protect you, not my partner, you."

Rogus knew what he was saying. His feelings outstripped his professional obligation as her partner, not that he wouldn't have tried to help her if they weren't a reality, but they certainly gave him a bigger boost. The implications of such a compromise of emotion normally meant a professional relationship would be impossible, especially when considering a bias toward Charlotte could get one of their fellow thieves killed, or worse, captured. That said, he wasn't in a clear mind set to begin with. A tired mind, mixed with hatred for her assailant certainly didn't hurt his motivation to kill the man. He doubted he'd make the mistake of putting his feelings before the completion of a job, and in the situation in the tent it actually helped.

"Thanks by the way, for getting me out of that mess." He still hadn't told her exactly how he'd been caught, and Doc probably hadn't seen much beside him being dragged away by the Ilians. Rogus debated on telling her the full story, but he had a feeling she didn't think he had gotten caught out of incompetence. If she did, they wouldn't be having this conversation. The woman had an ability for figuring things out without much explanation, not as well as he could but close.

[Charlotte]

Charlotte felt surprisingly relieved when she heard the man admit that he was dealing with the same dilemma as she was. She even let herself smile as he joked about their dance in Krossen, which even Charlotte couldn’t deny was one of the more enjoyable nights she had experienced. Looking at Rogus reclining next to her, Charlotte had the fleeting thought about laying down next to him, feeling his warm skin against hers as they just rested as they deserved to. She even imagined what their lips touching might feel like, if the taste of the rum would linger if they did.

The blonde woman’s eyes quickly broke from Rogus’ as the thought flew through her mind, cheeks growing warm as she pushed it away while hoping Rogus hadn’t noticed; damn her innate impulsiveness, which was pushing her to just give into the carnal feeling that tugged at her chest. But even with the momentary aside and the intrusive thoughts, the true matters at hand couldn’t be forgotten, and it appeared they weren’t as Rogus continued. She knew very well that the man had a temper, to put it lightly, her mind calling back to the handful of times she’d seen him lose himself to his anger, though some were much worse than others. It was probably the one thing that clouded his judgment, but Charlotte believed it could be controlled if Rogus wanted to. It wasn’t an easy order to fill, for sure, but she thought it possible.

Part of the man’s reaction in the tent likely was attributable to adrenaline. Everyone had a fight or flight instinct, and when cornered like that, Rogus’ was to fight, no question about that. But Charlotte hadn’t expected him to not only admit that he shouldn’t have been able to kill that soldier, but that he had done it to... protect her. An instinct in her flared up, as the woman always upheld that she needed no protecting. She was a lone wolf, so admitting that she had needed someone to keep the soldier from relieving her of her life in that tent was a tall order in and of itself.

But Charlotte could easily accept being protected, if not for Rogus’ deliberate admittance of the thought behind it. She was honestly dumbfounded, the idea of him protecting her confusing to a woman who normally regarded herself as little more than her job, skills, and assets. To put it bluntly, the consultant’s usual associates rarely spoke of her as anything but another good or service to be bought and sold, so after a while, that was how Charlotte began to see herself too. Rogus protecting his partner, in the way he had put it, would have been protecting his investment, something Charlotte could more than understand. But protecting her... meant that there was something there, someone he felt for that he couldn’t just go out and buy or get from somewhere else. It was the same thing she had felt seeing him beaten and bruised, hanging from the rack in that tent; in that moment, her instinct to get out kicked in, but it wouldn’t let her leave Rogus, including him in the conditions for a successful escape.

Her mouth dry, Charlotte nodded as he thanked her; she supposed it was time for her to reply, even though she didn’t have the slightest idea what to say. “Couldn’t leave you there, could I?” The consultant said, shrugging as she finally forced her eyes back to meet her partner’s and tried to make light of it. “Having to look over you on the last leg of the trip was the only thing keeping Doc’s mouth shut, so I should be thanking you.” A half grin tugged at her lips, but she couldn’t maintain it, heart not really in her attempt at a joke, so she instead mulled over what to say next.

Charlotte raised her right hand to her forehead, thumb and middle finger pressing into her temples as she kept trying to come up with the right response. Wit hadn't worked for her, but being blatant and open couldn't, no, wouldn't work either. She couldn't believe it, but she was actually scared of whatever words came to mind that she could say aloud. None of them worked, which brought her intrusive thought flying back through her mind. She furrowed her brow, feeling the familiar tug at her chest.

That was it, she couldn’t take it any longer. The reason whatever it was between her and Rogus had made her feel so confused was largely because he was able to pull out a part of her she didn’t even know existed. She was Charlotte Myska, damnit! She knew no calling but that which she created for herself. She was moved by her impulses, ruled by her desires, and thrived when faced with adversity. Even when she had nothing to say, the blonde surely always had something to do that could say just as much. But she was acting nothing like herself, and Charlotte exasperatedly decided to change that.

So this time she didn’t shake the thought from her head, instead letting herself give into the impulse it brought along with it. Charlotte turned toward Rogus, quickly moving over the boots and legs that separated them, accidentally knocking one of the boots off of the box in the process. The blonde ignored it, a weight lifting from her shoulders as one of her hands touched his raised knee, the other brushing over his sprawled out leg. She was a woman comforted by closeness and touch, and it was likely that one of the reasons for her unease with the conversation was their separation.

Now on her knees, Charlotte found one hand dropping in a gap between Rogus’s torso and bent arm, propping her up as she finally closed the gap between them, her free hand moving from his knee to slip behind his neck as her lips crashed into his. Her hair slipped forward from behind her back to rest on her right shoulder, the tresses no longer carefully placed as per usual. Her kiss was anything but gentle, her emotional confusion fuling a hot ardor that she was hungry to fulfill. She knew they likely had more to talk about, more to say but for the moment she didn’t care.

[Rogus]

"Charlie, what are--" The thief managed to say before his partner's lips silenced him. The man was utterly stunned for a second, but the surprise wore off quickly. Rogus let his body relax, and shifted his weight onto his right arm, freeing his left hand to rake through a bit of blonde hair before resting behind Charlotte's neck. She wasn't going the slow and gentle route, and Rogus didn't mind that either; he pushed back on her lips as hard as she had when she surprised him. He savored the slight taste of rum on the consultant's lips, and did his best to not break out into a fit of relieved laughter. The tension in the air before Charlotte's bold move was thick enough to slice through, and Rogus simply enjoyed the welcome break from their conversation. It wasn't like he was uncomfortable with talking things over, he had been fighting the same impulses Charlotte seemed to have since their dance in Krossen and the kiss did a great deal to put the distracting thoughts to rest, if only for a few moments.

The thief could tell she had been struggling to find the right words to continue the conversation, but this latest gesture did just fine in communicating how Charlie felt. He could make plenty of interpretations, but he shoved them aside to live in the moment for a bit. His head got crowded with all the ideas and observations that flooded in every time he was around the consultant. Her presence kept Rogus on his toes, and his mind ready to solve the puzzle she had made herself into. Now, the message was plain to see, and he welcomed the transparency. Sometimes he couldn't help but appreciate a simple answer. Rogus gave his response the only way he could for the moment; locking his lips with the blonde's and gently pulling down on her to stop hovering above him. He didn't give his torso injuries a second thought, there was still some empty space between the two and for some reason the man didn't like that. After a few more moments he finally pulled himself out of the kiss, his grey eyes studying Charlotte's. The thief remained silent for a while before cracking a wry grin.

"Well... I could think of a more comfortable place to continue that 'conversation'." Rogus whispered, playing with a strand of Charlotte's fallen locks. No doubt if she was wearing makeup like usual he'd have a smear of color lining his grinning lips, "But, I figure the point's been made. Unless you have any objections, I'd like to stay partners and let this..." He pointed to her, and back to himself, "Remain another one of our secrets." It went without saying the two relationships, if they could be labeled as such, couldn't mix. If the others in their, relatively, new arrangement found out, it would probably end the guild. Technically, Rogus and Charlotte hadn't broken any official rules of the contract they'd signed with Ryuzaki and Burgid, but he doubted that would make a difference. There was no doubt in the man's mind, he didn't want to lose her as an business associate, frighteningly, he didn't like the thought of them being strictly business much either. If it came down to it, Rogus figured he would rather have a good partner than have personal feelings muck up their operations.


((OOC: Sorry for the late response, holidays get hectic sometimes ))

[Charlotte]

Charlotte could tell that, even if just for only a second or two, the kiss had caught Rogus by surprise. It took almost no time at all for the other thief to move in response to the blonde’s hungry, selfish kiss, pushing just as hard back against her moving lips. Clenching her eyes shut harder in response, Charlotte involuntarily shuddered as the man’s hand tangled in her hair, brushing against the nape of her neck before coming to rest amidst the sea of gold. The strangely sweet but bodied taste of whiskey lingered in their hot, wet mouths as they clashed. Her hands moved as they often did, searching and feeling – albeit gently, as she considered the man’s injuries from just few days prior.

For the first time in a few months, Charlotte’s mind was blank, only focused on their actions as she had forced the conversation away towards her comfort in the physical. Even the small things she did notice weren’t filed away as they usually were, her mind simply noting their existence and how exhilarating the combination of them all made her feel. His calloused fingertips and palms touching her neck. The cracks in his lips, wetted by her smooth, soft, moistened ones. His free hand pulling her body down to close the gap between them. His warm body now close to hers with hips met, still kissing fiercely but noticeably declining in force.

Charlotte knew the two of them couldn’t keep this up forever – they were, after all, just behind a tavern in a small town. She made Rogus pull away first, though she remained laying atop him as he locked eyes with hers, seemingly examining them. Charlotte returned the favor, not wanting to break the gaze as she finally was able to see the man’s eyes up close. There was something about a person’s eyes that told so much about them, even in the way they looked. Rogus’s were a stormy gray, as if nebulous clouds always billowed around his pupils, masking whatever true feeling or being was behind them at the time. Handsome, to be sure.

The consultant tilted her head to the side very slightly as the man whispered through his stained lips and again tangled his fingers in her hair. Another shiver hit her, though this time just from her shoulders to her neck, and a cheeky smile curled the woman’s lips as she moved a finger to gently wipe under her lip as she chuckled. “As can I,” she agreed; she nearly referred to him as ‘love,’ her usual go-to term of endearment. For obvious reasons, though, Charlotte didn’t find it appropriate to use at the given moment, even if their minds were in a different place than usual.

But even as they lay there close to one another, Rogus made his point clear. Initially, the beautiful woman felt a sting of rejection, but the real question was, did Charlotte really disagree with him? Being on top of the man certainly clouded Charlotte’s judgment a bit in the moment, but she wasn’t irresolute enough to make her ignore one of her own personal rules: never mix business with pleasure. She’d broken it in Krossen thanks to alcohol, impulse, and emotion, and here she was again, technically breaking it again to try and stifle whatever it was she was feeling for the man. She knew where this sort of thing led, and she couldn’t end up there again. As much as she had wanted to feel his coarse hands on her skin, as much as she wanted more, Charlotte knew she couldn’t let it be any more than this if they were going to work together.

“I think,” she started, remorsefully pushing her body up and away from Rogus’, “That’s probably for the best.” Charlotte cleared her throat, a quiet ‘sorry’ coming from her though she was in no way apologetic for taking what she had wanted. She resituated herself so that her bent legs created a bridge over his resting ones. Her hands instinctively moved to arrange her hair to be more presentable as she continued. “Business and pleasure don’t tend to mix well, in my experience.”

“So what’s the plan from here?” Charlotte quickly asked to change the subject. “Head back into Lycia? Or did you have something else in mind?”

[Rogus]

Oh gods, I messed up.

His silver tongue had turned to lead and his words had come off exactly the opposite of his intentions. Rogus opened his mouth to correct himself but when the faintest 'sorry' escaped from Charlotte's lips the lead got heavier. The exhilaration of the moment had cleared his mind of everything apparently, including his tact. He hadn't meant the two of them should stay strictly business, that was the furthest thing from what he wanted then and there. The man suddenly felt cold without the woman, and immediately sat up and grasped the blonde's soft hand. He didn't know what to say, or if he should bother trying to fix the mistake, after all perhaps it was for the best. Rogus did know if push came to shove he would break whatever their connection was off if it was clearly the best move, but as of that moment he hadn't been shoved. It was too late to dismiss his feelings and let a mistake govern how he'd feel for the rest of their partnership, and too late to not say anything, he had grabbed her hand rather quickly.

"Charlie I..." He looked down. She could read him like a book now, stormy unreadable eyes and all; he clearly hadn't intended to shove her away.

What in the name of Elimine is wrong with me? I always know what to say dammit!

Her words of business and pleasure not mixing echoed in his mind. After a moment of silence he managed to work out a better way of conveying what he'd meant before. If she had already made up her mind, fine. At least he wasn't running from another of his mistakes.

"I know business and pleasure don't mix... but if we kept them in separate bowls they'd never taint each other, yeah?" He looked back up without meeting her eyes, feeling like a teenager again. Rogus felt his cheeks warming up and prayed to gods he didn't believe in that the bruises would hide his blush. "That's what I meant by another secret, if no one knows no one will care... Or use it against one of us." He did his best to not sound like an idiot who was grasping at straws, but he honestly didn't think his best was enough.

"When we're with others or on a job, this-- He finally felt courageous enough to look her in the eye again. "--, the dance in Krossen, never happened. When we're alone its all real again. We're both fairly good at living two different lives, why can't we live another?" Rogus felt the lead turning back to shiny precious silver.

"I'm not saying let's elope," He chuckled, "We'll probably get sick of each other after another week, but... I care about you, and not just because you're useful or beautiful. His voice dropped into a very serious tone as he finished. He meant every word of it, and he felt a lot better than he would have if he'd answered her question to where they were going to go next. Rogus just hoped Charlotte heard him, and not Myska. He wasn't sure if that would change the outcome, however, he knew she was a creature of logic and logic said that it wouldn't end well.

[Charlotte]

One hand still raking through her slightly tangled locks, Charlotte hadn’t expected Rogus to move back towards her, even taking her hand into his tight grip and ignoring her attempt to shift their conversation. Has she said something wrong? Charlotte had been sure she’d understood his intention, but as he tried to lock eyes with her again and failed, the consultant realized she might have misunderstood his intention. Drat, why did these things always have to be so complicated?

Her name still the only words lingering in the air between them, the blonde lowered her free hand from her hair, finished combing through the tresses with her fingers as Rogus finally spoke. His eyes were still focused on his knee, as if speaking his words to them made admitting the miscommunication between them easier. For two people whose claim to fame in their work was decrypting and owning conversations, Charlotte and Rogus had done a fine job of mucking up their own. The thought almost brought another chuckle from the blonde, who simply sighed instead as she kept listening to his plan.

Keeping whatever all this was separate from their work was certainly the perfect arrangement if both could keep their feelings away, compartmentalized and let out only when they wanted. Charlotte didn’t have much issue at all with this, considering she rarely, if ever, let her emotions affect her work. She’d become very good at letting sense guide her on a job rather than anything else, and it was that lucidity that kept clients coming back to her for her services.

She’d been in a “relationship,” if it could be called that, with the leader of the smuggling ring that had liberated her from the dead-end town in the Western Isles. The lines of work and play had mixed for her partner, who couldn’t handle the realities of what Charlotte needed to do sometimes in order for a job to get done. The jealous man had threatened her life and turned violent, so much so that she was forced to escape the smuggling ring with little more than a bit of stolen coin and her life. After that debacle, Charlotte was very careful about who she tangled with outside of work, which more often than not ended in not tangling with anyone at all. If there was one thing she still feared, it was being caught in that same situation again.

Was it happening again, though? Rogus had admitted to being an angry man when he couldn’t control his temper, not to mention he had just admitted to caring for her, something neither had been able to say word-for-word until now. The blonde’s eyes broke from his for a moment, trying to sort through everything as usual. Charlotte knew she cared about him, though to what extent was still unclear to her. He meant every word he said, so much so he was willing to add more complication into their “different lives” to create a small sliver for whatever the two of them were.

“So you really believe you could do that?” Charlotte finally spoke, bringing her eyes to meet Rogus’ again. She was deliberate in saying you instead of we; she knew she didn’t have any choice but to keep it all separate, as it was what she’d done for years now. But as much as she’d like to think she could, the woman couldn’t read Rogus’ mind. They knew each other pretty well, but Charlotte still didn’t know him well enough to know if he could be capable of that.

Charlotte sighed, realizing their shoulders were touching, their foreheads only a few inches away as they spoke. Her hand instinctively tightened around his as she continued. “Because right now, there’s nothing else I want more than to just say it’s possible...” She paused for a moment, collecting a few more thoughts, her focus floating over the bruises covering the other thief’s cheeks and jaw.

“But I just don’t know if it’s that easy in practice, is all. Are we already too personal? If not, where do we draw the line so we don’t let it affect our work? Because I know for me, in a way it already has, and that’s worrisome.” She didn’t say it outright, but she knew that what she’d done, going off alone to find Rogus and bring him back to the caravan wasn’t something she’d normally have done. At the time, he’d served his purpose, so going to find him was unnecessary, a waste of resources that could have been focused elsewhere. But the reality was, Charlotte had gone to find him because she couldn’t let his “potential” be wasted on being killed during a scouting mission.

Everything she’d said was her just thinking aloud, so Charlotte sighed, trying to make a point of better directing her words. “I don’t know... What I’m trying to say is I like the idea; it’s been an awfully long time since...” her thumb began to move slowly over the man’s warm skin on the back of his hand idly, “well, you know. There just can’t be strings attached.” Charlotte couldn't have someone trying to tie her down again as the smuggling ring leader had.

[Rogus]

Rogus nodded in response to the blonde's understandable questioning. The man did have an anger issue, but he learned a long time before to keep a level head when mixing business and pleasure. He learned it the hard way too. He'd promised the woman to tell her of the story of how he managed to trade his lavish noble lifestyle for a brand and a blank slate. Right then might as well have been a good time to share it, but he decided to wait for her to bring it up. He was willing to tell it, but they were still talking about more pressing matters. Rogus knew Charlotte wanted to know. She'd bring it up, it was only a matter of time.

"It won't be an issue." Rogus said matter of fact, he didn't grin. It'd been a long time since he'd felt any real connection with someone. With Ryuzaki, Rogus acknowledged him as a companion, but to say he felt more than sympathy for the mad man would be close to lying. Charlotte didn't seem mad, nor murderous, plus she was just as reliable as the white-haired man. He looked down when he felt the blonde's thumb. The man cracked a grin and looked up at her skeptically.

"Should I ask the same of you?" The man teased, indicating toward her small gesture with a quick glance. "No, I shall not. The great merchant Myska is invulnerable to all weakness! Rogus added with a wink. The joke was a subtle attempt at trying to ask about her weaknesses by goading a denying response. He doubted a little trick like that would work on Charlotte. He had to admit, despite their misunderstanding mere moments before, the blonde's way with words was impressive. She would have done well in the vipers' nest that was Lycian court.


((Sorry, ik its been a month and this is short.))

[Charlotte]

Charlotte laughed as Rogus teased her, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Well, look at you! Takes most more than a few weeks to recognize that!”

Of course, the blonde was teasing too. It was hardly believable that the woman was an impenetrable fortress, even if that was the persona she projected to her partners and clients. But she was very aware of where she was weakest, more so than many. And while she might dwell on those weaknesses on her own, when it came to work, she found ways to manipulate her surroundings so the weaknesses didn’t become issues, all the while allowing her to work on improving herself.

The hardest to overcome, though, was always her lack of physical strength. Charlotte didn’t like admitting it, but she was simply built less hardy than the other thieves she tended to tangle with. Oftentimes it didn’t matter and was preferred; suitors and lustful nobles looked more fondly on a supple, slender woman as opposed to a toned, war-torn one. There was always the potential issue of the scars that lined Charlotte’s back and sides, but more often than not, they elicited pity from those who saw them, which worked to the woman’s advantage.

But times like those few moments in the tent, Charlotte was made painfully aware of how easily a dispassionate man could unearth her. Every time she’d picked physical fights with a man she’d lost, which was understandable; women were the overall physically weaker sex, after all. She never claimed to be a master of combat, and she did her best to keep her work limited to what she was good at. Still, it didn’t make it any less frustrating when, more often than not, she straight up lost a fight with someone she could have feasibly beaten. Charlotte didn’t know why it was so challenging for her to take someone in a straight up fight; if she did, she would have fixed this fault a long time ago.

That didn’t mean she was ready to lay out her awareness of that along with her other flaws to Rogus just yet. Maybe with more time, if he truly proved trustworthy with the secrets he already had would Charlotte find it in her to share those kinds of insecurities with him. For now, though, she preferred to leave hidden the exposed Charlie he’d seen in Krossen.

However, there were still secrets of Rogus’ that hadn’t been shared, and Charlotte knew of at least one she was still eager to understand. They’d briefly discussed his status as an ex-noble, but Charlotte had yet to hear how it had happened. Maybe the tale would be as dull as Rogus warned it would be, but it didn’t really matter to the consultant. Not knowing was more disappointing than finding it wasn’t as interesting as Rogus believed she was expecting.

“This,” Charlotte started, pausing slightly for emphasis, “isn’t all we wanted to talk about, though, no?” She paused longer this time, free hand rubbing her leg aimlessly.

“I’d still like to know what happened, if this is a better place to talk about it.” She’d asked about it a bit more tenderly in the small-town tavern, but the buzz of alcohol that had cradled her then was not guiding her words now, even if she wished it could.

(OOC: No worries, just glad to know you’re not gone for good!)

[Rogus]

"I am impressive." Rogus said in mock agreement, and returned the nudge with his shoulder. There was a relatively long pause in the conversation before Charlotte picked it back up. The man knew his partner would ask about what happened to him sooner or later, and contrary to his surprise in Krossen Rogus simply sighed and nodded in agreement. It was time to make good on a promise. The thief looked around to make certain it was only Charlotte and him listening in. His eyes settled at his boots as he worked through how he'd begin.

Rogus was surprised at his lack of reluctance. Back in Krossen he'd said he wanted the blonde to know what happened. At the time he'd been drunk, and didn't think much about the statement afterward. Now, however, the thought pulled at the back of his mind. He certainly meant it, but why? Why now, of all times, and why was it Charlotte of all people with whom he wanted to share his story? Rogus lingered on the thought for a few seconds, and came to the conclusion that Charlotte was probably the only person he'd met since his exile who could understand what made the man deviate from a life of guaranteed luxury. At least Rogus decided why he was telling the story, now all he had to do was figure out how he would do it. After being silent for another moment or so, he finally began.

"I was a teenager, and had just returned home from a tourney in Pherae." Rogus looked up from his boots to Charlotte's eyes as he began, "I'd done lousy, and my father immediately threw me in a steel suit and had me train the whole day... We argued, and after I was finally given a break I made a bee-line for the servants' quarters. I dressed myself in clothes fit for a pauper and I left the castle." The man began laughing as he remembered the incident.

"I remember the sun was setting as I got to the city's marketplace. Purely by accident of course, I had never actually traversed my own city's streets until then." He spoke wearing a grin, knowing how foolish it sounded, "I'd brought some coin in a purse hanging from my belt, and was trying to barter with a smith for a dagger when I felt a slight tug on my belt, and a girl's laughter. I only saw a trail of blonde hair as the girl disappeared into a crowd before I realized what happened." Rogus couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"I was a lousy rider, but oh could I run... The coin had been an allowance for souvenirs during my trip to the tourney, but i hadn't gotten any. If my mother had found out it was missing she'd tan my hide, so I ran in the direction of the blonde hair." He gently flipped a lock of Charlotte's golden hair to add some emphasis. "I would have lost her had she not stopped to gawk at her pay day. I had enough gold to feed a peasant family for a year in that pouch..." He stopped, realizing he'd been focusing on one specific part of the story. "Anyway, eventually I cornered the girl in an alley. I was an arrogant snot and I was fully prepared to dish out some noble 'justice' when she said the strangest thing."


 "'You're fast for a slug.' or something along those lines. I'd never been insulted so callously... The thought of someone comparing me to a bug had never once crossed my mind, and I started laughing. I wasn't thrown into a fit of rage like any of my peers would have been, I actually liked it. For once someone hadn't treated me like the heir to the throne." Rogus ran a hand threw his hair as he grasped for a better way of explaining what he'd felt, "It was... fun, experiencing something other than a formal exchange, I guess. Long story short, we exchanged names, and decided to meet again at sundown the next day."

"Her name was Aetha, and I said mine was Gus. I snuck out the next night again and met her in the alley, that was the night I stole my first prize; the dagger I had tried to buy the day before." He smiled again,"I can't tell you how it felt... It shattered the glass pane I'd been looking at the world through in my life as a noble... You see, I was a rather lousy one, especially considering my family."

"My whole life I was controlled by my parents, and the etiquette of the Lycian courts. Even from birth expectation for greatness was placed on my shoulders and it guided my like a yoke until I met Aetha." At this point Rogus was debating on wrapping it up quickly as it felt like he'd been going on for ages, but, the practiced orator he was he brushed the feeling off and continued. "I had the right makings for a good lord, but not the right spirit... I felt empty most of the time, going through the same routine of training, studying, and going to balls and tourneys. I stubbornly resisted this routine to no avail. Eventually I thought I had no control over my life and that it was fate that i'd be trapped in a castle all my life."

Rogus went on, explaining how for the next two years Aetha taught him how to pick pockets, locks, and easy marks. The man also told how he revealed who he really was to Aetha, an event that nearly ended their friendship. He talked about keeping his mother unaware of the true nature of his nightly escapes by saying he was getting to know the struggles of his people and a whole other load of lies. She bought it of course, his mother was much more sympathetic of his restlessness than his father, and allowed him to go into town after their nightly lessons. The main point he stressed while going through the story was that Aetha had become his escape. He learned he didn't have to accept his fate, that he didn't have to adhere to the normalcy of his life. What he most enjoyed about it all was the irony. An heir to a Lycian territory was a thief? The scandal amused him to no end, but he wasn't simply rebelling against his station, otherwise he would have gotten himself caught so everyone would know how he felt. The man explained he just loved to steal and feel free, and there was nothing more to it.


"When I came of age I learned I was going to marry the daughter of another minor territory to ease a few tensions between my father and hers. I knew the girl, in fact I remember how she blushed 'til she was red in the face when we danced at a ball." Rogus shook his head at the thought of arranged marriage. "This was the last straw of the many forced on my back... I don't know why, but I decided I'd had enough, plus Aetha and I were... More than casually involved at this point. I came up with a foolish plan to run away, and pitched it to her the next time we met." Rogus pointed his finger down on his knee to make a point.

"I figured I could sneak her in as a serving girl, and the two of us would break into the castle vault. We'd take enough gold to start a new life somewhere and get the hell out." The man frowned, and let himself have a few seconds pause before continuing on. "It sounded like a good idea, but it went south pretty quick. My own father, another Marquess, and their closest knights were holding a late meeting to discuss a trade deal or something, and they walked right in as I was stuffing a sack with a handful of coins."

"They fell on us immediately and threw us in the castle dungeon. I was in there a week before the official verdict came from the League. I was to be branded and exiled with nothing more than travel-wear and an empty canteen, Aetha was to be hanged for being a thief." Rogus decided to follow his promise to the letter. He would say nothing of what happened after he was sent out as an exile.

"They unchained me, and I got to say goodbye to my parents before they sent me off. Well, good-bye is a stretch, the meeting lasted only long enough for my father to stick a brand on my shoulder. After that they dressed me like a drifter and sent me on my way." He was finally done. Rogus held back a sigh of relief, and leaned in to conclude his story.

"And that's what happened. Hope it isn't too disappointing."

[Charlotte]

Listening was a skill that wasn’t often utilized by people Charlotte dealt with, which was one of the reasons she was so sought after. Ever since she was younger, Charlotte had always been the type to sit off to the side quietly observing instead of showboating around like many of the nobles and thieves she worked with. Sure, she liked a flair of drama every now and again, but ultimately she knew exactly what was needed to get the job done: listening with every inch of her body. And Charlotte was damn good at it.

The blonde figured Rogus’s story would be long, considering the man was more long winded than she, but she hadn’t quite expected the depth of explanation that she received. But in her typical fashion, she didn’t complain, simply sitting quietly while intensely focusing on the man’s story. It was a similar courtesy she afforded many of the nobles she worked with; they alway had something to talk about, though it was more often than not a on list of complaints. But there was always something to be learned from listening, so Charlotte folded her hands on her lap and did what she did best.

Much of what Rogus described was superfluous recollection, but Charlotte found quite a few details interesting that helped to flesh out the man sitting in front of her. She was fully aware of his humanity, but just as she did, Rogus had a wall up around him that separated his personal life from his ‘professional’ one. But everything about the way he spoke of his past showed he was sentimental about his rebellious past. She was surprised to hear that he’d been next in line to become the Marquess of one of the Lycian territories; she’d worked with many of the houses, but never had she heard a tale like the one she was being told. But it wasn’t uncommon for something as scandalous as this to be swept under the rug entirely, as it could have been damning to the Marquess’ public image. Still, did that mean the man’s father was still at the head of one of the territories? It certainly warranted looking into once the dust had settled.

For now, though, she kept listening, and the instant Rogus mentioned the small girl with the blonde hair, Charlotte knew what she’d meant to him. His gaze was far off but focused, as if he was still trying to remember every little detail about her. His face became flushed as he continued telling how they’d met, and he trailed off on insignificant details instead of being straight to the point like he usually was. It was easy to tell he’d loved the little blonde girl from the market, enough that he was willing to throw everything away and escape the guarantee of a comfortable life to be with her. Sure, he’d been unhappy with his status before he met her, but Aetha had clearly been the catalyst for who he was today.

It made sense to her now, though, why the man trusted Charlotte with such personal and telling information after a relatively short time. She likely reminded him of Aetha: a blonde thief looking for a way to get by. If their personalities were at all similar, too, then his attraction to her was even more logical. Too, though, Charlotte knew what it was like to want to act out as he had. There was no challenge, no thrill to being handed the lot in life that he’d been given. Sure, it was easier, never a threat of being cold or hungry, but there was something to be said about the excitement of a successful heist, or the rush of sneaking an entire siege weapon through contested territory. Just being a noble or being a common person didn’t give the same high that being a rogue trader and underworld consultant brought.

The tragic end to their affair was expected, but she hadn’t expected the man’s mood to shift so much over the course of the story. He’d cared deeply for that girl, and that worried Charlotte. Could she trust his assurance that keeping their relationship casual was possible? He’d fallen, and hard, for someone before, but had it changed him like it had changed Charlotte?

She was over thinking this, wasn’t she? The man hadn’t proven untrustworthy yet, and she had no idea what else he’d gone through after leaving. She was still wary, but the feeling would pass... wouldn’t it?

“No, not at all,” Charlotte finally spoke, her hand still cradled in his. “I appreciate you being frank with me. It’s not easy, talking about things that make us feel weak, no?”

With their trip finally concluded and the heavy nature of their talk now, Charlotte felt as if she hadn’t slept with days. She was physically and mentally exhausted, so she couldn’t imagine how the still injured man next to her felt. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think we’ve shared enough for today.” Charlotte looked up from her knees, smiling past a clearly tired visage. “How about we grab a room and get some shut eye? I think we’ve deserved it, and we have plenty of coin.” She knew better than to be blunt after a story like that, but she couldn’t guarantee that a good night’s rest was all that would happen. She was still a bit wary, sure, but she certainly wouldn’t turn it down if the opportunity presented itself. It had been an awfully long time since she'd had the potential of being with a man not twenty or so years her senior, after all.

Finally taking her hand from Rogus's, Charlotte hopped down from the crates they'd been sitting on, the sack of coins jingling on her waist as her feet hit the ground. "I'll see you over there." A cheeky, smart grin took over her features for a moment before she turned on her heel, making her way around the corner and for the tavern's front door. She was confident the man would follow her, even if it was for a good night's sleep. Either way, she was finally calm enough to take leave for a bit to try and sort out everything out.

[exit Charlotte]