Logs:Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained
Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained
|Characters:||Lilium, Molly, Peter and Tris|
|Summary:||Four Lost discuss various ventures (past, present and future); they all have something to contribute.|
This two-storey commercial building is not in the best condition, but nor is it terribly rundown. In a corner of Central City that nearly straddles into Milan and the Garden Districts, it has the classic 'Building for rent" sign with a phone number in one of its wide glass windows that are largely brown-papered over.
Presently, the lights are on within and the door has been left ajar with a small piece of wood keeping it from closing entirely. Within, things are dusty and in need of some TLC, but it's an open if small retail space with a staircase at the back leading up to some upper room.
Tris is here. That much is obvious from the sleek matte black Lotus Evora parked outside the disused two storey commercial space. The car doesn't really fit the locale, but when one has as much money as Tris, that's just how things go sometimes. It's not even the same flashy car he was driving two weeks ago. It's flashier, for all that both cars were matte and not shiny. Maybe the man with the glowing scars that capture light and split it into colors has a Thing about reflective surfaces. It wouldn't be the weirdest quirk for a Lost to have.
A few fairly vague texts have gone out from the Millennial tonight that included this address and about this time of the evening for a meeting. The an making the plans is meandering around the open space, checking out a built-in counter in some part of the otherwise very empty room. The only other object besides Tris in his typical designer tee and distressed jeans and loafers, with his glowing scars is large shopping bag on the counter.
For those with a good memory, or even a decent one, it's notable that the scarred man has a brand-new scar, running from hairline to nearly chin-tip down the right side of his face, the veins of slender gossamer thread reaching toward his cheek, not really obscured by the beard. Tonight, the colors are green and orange with just a hint of rose in the mix.
Peter and Lilium arrive by walking, and if anyone happens to notice, it's their main mode of travel. The Fairest himself has gone through a wardrobe change, sporting an all black suit with his refined, silver-framed glasses. Even his briefcase is black now, but it's still kind of old and battered.
After a moment admiring the car, Peter steps inside the open space, careful not to dislodge the piece of wood keeping it open. "Good evening, Lor-... Ahem, Tris. Doing well, I hope?" He approaches with a casual wave, lingering in his steps to glance back at Lilium.
When his gaze returns to Tris, Peter quirks a curious brow at the newly acquired scar. "Get accosted by some miscreant?"
In what might pass as a normal move, Lilium's hair has been ombre dyed from the shoulders down. From dusty rose through electric sunset pink to fuschia to ends that are violet. This only accentuates that her hair is pale silver rather than actually platinum, but it does make the bright lapis of her eyes stand out. She arrives here as she does most places, with an absent sort of meander that makes it seem she's ambling haphazardly more so than moving with purpose. Sure the painted on hip hugging jeans with the little bell bottoms are late nineties chic, and it's paired with a 'The Dark Crystal' shirt. It would appear the fairest has a diverse wardrobe. That it's a spaghetti strap top leaves her shivering but means she need not cut holes for the wings. She's even wearing mismatched Chuck's one pink and one purple. Apparently she's mimicing other Changelings' fashion choices to a degree. Or experimenting with it. She looks from Peter to Tris and back again, her pale brows drawing together, "Did he? He looks as nicely put together as usual." And then she stares at Tris, trying hard to spot the difference. Give her a tick! No really, she might catch it if she tries.
Molly looks exactly the same. No, she's even wearing the same black leather biker jacket, the same scruffy black skinny jeans, the same blue Converses. The t-shirt may vary. Today it's a washed-out promotional Call of Duty 2 olive green t-shirt, for some reason. She arrives on foot, not long behind Peter and Lillium, but she takes a while longer to walk in, spent lingering on the street and casing the place. That, and she finishes her cigarette, dropping it on the sidewalk and stepping on it before finally making it to the door.
The hand not busy with getting rid of a cigarette is holding onto a phone, thumb stroking the screen to scroll as she peeks inside, scanning the place from corner to corner. "Hello? Uh. Hey!" She calls out once she spots people, eyes flicking towards her phone before tucking it away, leaving her long clawed hands to hang loosely at her side as she takes a couple of lazy strides in.
Considering that his scar matches all the rest of those on his mien, the bitter edge to Tris' amused smile as he reaches up and scratches that new reach of scars across his jaw might be forgiven. "Peter, Lilium," he greets the pair warmly enough in spite of that smile. His next words are wry, "I don't think one of Them ever could be downgraded to simple miscreant status." This is no wounding, but a strengthening of his Wyrd and thus a magnification of the man's mien. "I woke up with it and some new memories." That tone says ugly ones without speaking the words. "Someone who's been Back longer says it can happen. Things change when one becomes... stronger." He shrugs as though he either has reservations or doesn't care much for the change one way or another.
"Nice hair, Lilium." This is one of those offhanded compliments at which a man with Tris' looks and upbringing must be accustomed to giving without too much thought; noticing a woman's attire is just part of a game, though there doesn't seem to be any intention behind the compliment this time other than to acknowledge and affirm the Fairest's choices. "I hear-" he starts to Peter only to be interrupted by Molly's call. "In here, Molly," he calls in response, beckoning the other Summer over. Perhaps he's sure they've all met since he knows some of them have. "Thanks for coming," is for Molly too. "I was just about to congratulate Peter for selecting his court allegiance." Even if it's not to Summer, Tris has a warm smile (to go along with his perpetually hot aura).
Peter smoothes out his tie, nodding suddenly in understanding, "It was an easy choice, once I realized it was less about my own preferences and more about where I could serve the Freehold best." He offers a small, proud smile, "Summer, Spring, seem a little closer to home, but I have always had the most success facing my fears and becoming others'." He moves to lean against the counter, setting his breifcase atop it and glancing curiously at the shopping bag.
There's a casual wave to Molly, and when he notices her shirt, he actually stands upright again, pushing off the counter. "Oh. I didn't know you served. Thank you, Molly."
Molly? Where? Lilium wheels around to flash a big fat grin at Molly, asking, "How've you been?" Before telling Tris, "Thank you. They feel alien, but it seems to be a normal mode of dressing. Street clothes. I understand that my shirt refers to puppets?" She pulls out the bottom hemline to stare down at it before shrugging. Apparently, she is basically playing dressup. She uses air quotes to frame the word normal. As if in reference to Peter's mention of Spring, little bell shaped white flowers start budding through the length of her hair. She asks Molly, "Mind if I steal a hug?" She totally missed the shopping bag and parses the comment on mien belatedly. "That... that's a real thing? How does it work?" She steps forward to study Tris' features almost clinically in her interest.
Molly pushes back her shoulders in a small shrug, fingers raised to offer the others a wave. She looks a little blank at the conversation. "Uh. Yeah. Like, you grow feathers in places," she comments at the mention of 'things changing', but it's all she says on this, sniffing as she continues to stroll closer. "Sure, it's fine. I wasn't doing anything. Been good, though!" She offers the last bit to Lillium with a smile at the question, then blinks at the hug stealing, "Knock yourself out." She opens her arms, giving Peter an odd look in the meanwhile. "I what?"
Tris' grin grows easier as the talk stays away from Them and the gifts of mien granted by time spent There. "Serving the freehold is a good thing. The more I look into how other freeholds have structured themselves, the more I see the help balance can be." Not that every freehold is necessarily organized in the common way, but... "One wonderful perk being human," partly human, "is that just because we feel most drawn to one emotion doesn't mean we have to forgo the rest of what life has to offer. You're welcome to come spill Their blood with me anytime." The Summer is probably quite serious though his grin is tinged with wild delight.
The grin twists a little toward a smirk, though it's not a cruel look on the friendly Millennial, it just doesn't try to hide delight turning to bemusement when Peter thanks Molly. He addresses Lilium first with a gesture toward her shirt, "Movie. Cult classic. Older than me, but I hear they're working on some kind of... prequel maybe? I haven't really been paying attention. I prefer music over movies." He gestures to Molly's shirt, "That's a video game. About soldiers. Like Lilium's shirt but for an interactive style of story." He pauses only after saying the words, perhaps thinking them through only after.
His brow furrows, "I didn't really hear your dates, at Natalya's birthday, but it sounds like a long time ago that you were Taken?" That's for Peter. "I did happen to hear you had a mishap with your computer, so I thought a new laptop might help. I had them set it up to be user friendly." He gestures to the shopping bag before stepping just a touch closer to Lilium and turning his face so she can see the new gossamer knitted scars on his face, those that match the raised stitching lines around his ears, down the back of his neck and under his chin. They're also all over his forearms, exposed in the tee-shirt. All glimmering away in a deceptively cheerful way. "As real as anything anyone else brought back." He shrugs. "They grab light. They glow a little, but not enough to be useful for anything." And apparently split the light into fun colors, but that's apparently self-explanatory.
Peter nods suddenly, remarking with a laugh, "Ah, yes. Computerized video games." No one under sixty calls them anything remotely like that, but he quickly leaps on any other subject to change his embarrassment. "You got me a computer? Amazing .." He doesn't reach for the bag, and instead opens his briefcase on the counter, "And here I was going to let you rifle through my book for a day or two." The book he pulls out is a massive time, bound in white rabbit skin, still soft and fluffy. Bits of polished bone adorn it, and when Peter offers it offer to Tris, the title can be seen on the spine. (Quite literally a spine!) "Local Dangers of New Orleans."
As if remarking about the weather, he goes on to explain, "It will disappear at the end of the month. You're welcome to do some research with it, or send a textual message to my phone. I'm sharing it with Autumn Court, among other things, as well as any Summer who might find it useful." He grins, eager to pass it off, if only to investigate his new computer.
Lurching forward like a six foot tall puppy, Lilium throws her arms around Molly enthusiastically and pulls her in close for the closest someone so willowy can manage to a bearhug. She furrows her brow again at the closer look at Tris' scars, nodding briefly. "Huh." She takes a moment to digest the information before asking, "And these changes just... happen?" She looks suddenly /very/ worried. Probably for totally normal reasons. Probably. She looks down at herself, biting her lip. She ambles closer to Peter, and asks him softly, "You don't think it works on the... nonphysical stuff, too, do you?" she asks, of Tris' evolving effects, wincing a bit to herself.
Molly isn't especially huggable, wiry and hard, but she gives Lillium's enthusiasm a good-natured laugh, nearly a cackle, and returns the hug. Pat pat. Her head tilts in a slight jerky motion, eyes moving from Tris to Peter as she follows the conversation, frowning in a pointless attempt at focusing. "Right, it's for a video game or something. It was free." Presumably, the t-shirt was, but she shrugs it off, finally taking a small step back from the hug. She runs her fingers through her hair, giving Tris's glowing scars a brief look.
"Yeah. One day you just - have feathers. Nonphysical?" She wonders at that, lifting an eyebrow, but she's already in motion, pacing around the area to peek in at any other exits, stairs, searching for high places.
Tris really should be more perturbed. If the Beast were other than as he is, perhaps he would be. There's a good chance, though, that this isn't the first spine he's become acquainted with. There is a visible pause as he takes in the tome, his head tilting slightly -- and maybe he sniffs the air, though if he detects anything other than the mundane (or whatever not quite human senses would pick up), there's really no added reaction. "Very kind," he replies seriously as his eyes go across the spine. "I'm not the most intelligent of men when it comes to books. Would you mind if I share it with a friend of mine who could help me with it?" At least he's asking.
In the meantime, he does shift the shopping bag toward Peter to make plain that what's within is for him. "The computer comes with a short write up in case there's any things that aren't clear about how they put it together for you." It probably has been set up with solid if mundane securities to try to cope with the kinds of threats Peter mentioned at Taly's party, and he will find that the brief user manual isn't insultingly simplistic, just a common questions section and a paid subscription to a phone hotline for computer help.
When Tris looks to Lilium, it's with empathy. Every Lost has suffered; even if the nature of the suffering was different, at the core, some of the fears and some of the pain is different flavors of the same. His tone is gentle when he answers, "My friend told me that changes happen when your Wyrd grows. Sometimes people seek it. Sometimes they don't. I didn't. It's just... new things to..." He pauses, gathers a breath and sighs it out. "New things to deal with. But you have friends." Maybe he's counted among them, but really, he's looking over to Peter when he says that, acknowledging with significant respect that bond that is apparent between the two before turning his dark blue eyes back to Lilium a moment.
Maybe he's attempting to help matters by turning the topic, offering the non sequitur to Molly. "You said you had experience with retail. Still looking for a job, Molly? I need an employee." WANNA WORK FOR TRIS? What could go wrong?
Rabbit blood. Rabbit bone. Rabbit fur. It's possible everything but the paper this book was made with came from a freshly killed rabbit. How quaint.
Peter nods in understanding, studying the laptop and before he can figure out how to turn it on, Lilium garners his attention. "It's possible, Lilium. There's a great many thing I don't remember from there, but it's always been plain and clear to me that what we escaped with was a gift. Not from Them, but fate." He offers a reassuring smile, "No matter what, we'll work through it together." He sounds as if he knows exactly what she's talking about, but perhaps he doesn't. He does, however, offer his open arms for a hug. "As Tris said, you're among friends." The Author's prerogative to paraphrase when needed.
A moment passes, just the briefest of things, really. It's hard to tell if it is the heavy mantle of Spring around Lilium or something Wyrder when an argent shimmer plays head to toe across her visage. She isn't looking at Peter but at Molly when a blink exposes during that moment brilliant, lapis, /reptilian/ pupils, but the moment her eyes are opened again, they are as warm and human looking as ever. "Some of us have faces like Mirrors, the better to become others. Some of us dance with living flame, or are made into hounds..." She takes a long and quiet breath. "Sure I have some physical alterations. But... mine are mostly that I am so /kind/, so /giving/, so /open/ and empathetic, eager to please." She looks down at her hands for a long moment, no longer distraught but quiet and calm, even reserved, as she is confessing something she has rarely shared. "I see someone hurting, they get a hug. Someone wants to play? Count me in. Thousandth terrible idea? This girl is there." There is almost a glimpse of something long suffering beneath the constant guileless smiles. "The only time I know I am me... is when I am selfish, at times even cruel. The kindness was stuck on me like claws, or scars. People just expect it." She doesn't add aloud that she rarely disappoints.
Molly halts, claws shoved into her pockets for a brief moment, an eyebrow raised as she listens in on the conversation between Tris and Peter until Lillium's reply draws her attention. The birdlike woman blinks, staring flatly with wide, curious blue eyes. Her face twists slightly, mouth pulled aside, nostrils flared in visible distaste for the whole notion. Glancing down, she frees one hand and digs into an inside pocket of jacket for a very, very battered pack of cigarettes. "That's - all kinds of fucked? I mean, it's all fucked up for everyone, but..." That's all she says, giving Lillium a quick sympathetic look.
The pack is empty, or almost, enough that she just stares into it, gripped in one hand. "Uh. Retail. Yeah. I mean, I'm not sure I'd do well working retail these days, though. And yeah, I'm kind of still looking. There's something, but... I'm not sure," she replies in Tris's direction, and resumes wandering, pushing her way towards the back of the open space, just so she can find the stairs and hop up onto the first step. Then off it. Then onto the second step. Then off it.
"But that's killing with kindness," Tris picks up where Molly's sentence leads off. There's that soft look in his eyes, but it's not, perhaps, particular to Lilium alone, but rather to the Lost. For all that Tris does seem to divide people into categories of usefulness, he also does feel real things for the pain his kind have been put through. Some might call that a lack of professional distance, if being one of the Lost is any kind of profession. "My therapist would say something helpful about boundaries, I think." Tris' tone is wry, but tinged with sadness. "There's a lot to be said for selfishness though. If you ever need help being selfish..." Tris is probably helpful to enabling healthy things like that.
Tris' eyes turn back to Peter, taking a moment to assess that... yes, Peter's got this, got her. Tris can afford to free his attention over to the other matter. "It's not quite retail. I'm going to rent this space for my photography studio. The studio will be upstairs. The downstairs will be more... consultation area. All a front, really. I want to start organizing a method for tracking threats to the freehold. A way to reward people for dealing with them. I need someone to mind the storefront, handle some of the information pass offs and details. Interested?" Surely Tris is not unaware of the presence of the other two Lost, and his dark gaze flicks toward them with a slightly inquiring tilt of his brows, as if silently asking for opinions.
Peter stares blankly at his laptop as Lilium talks about her endurance, merely studying the keys, pretending not to hear anything.
After a beat, he tells Tris, "Feel free to show any of our kind the book, just keep close track of it. Who knows what will happen if it runs down a hole or gets hold of a carrot." His grin becomes wide and flashy, all fangs. "If you ever need a... Very persuasive person, I can be one, when I try. Good for infiltrating everything, everyone."
Peter narrates aloud, his gaze dropping back to the computer again, "Peter wanted desperately to speak of his Durance, even reasoned that every Lost actually wants to purge it from themselves. Yet, he was afraid. Afraid they would discover that he was shaped in The Dragon's image, a party to such horrible dates that can only be imagined under extreme deprivation. Afraid they wouldn't understand the archetype of Villain-hero. Or worse, that they'd realize his token was stolen from his Keeper and likely a beacon to the Fae." Peter glances up at Tris and Molly, "No. Best to slowly prove he was of value, not one hundred percent monster, before he even broached that subject. Its was his most effective weapon for protecting her."
Peter asks, a notch louder, "So this place is going to be your front? Photography, I assume?"
"It's...." Whatever the specifics of Lilium's thoughts on the matter, she ultimately just tells Molly, "I mean, even in here years, I'd be like in my eighties or nineties now, so probably dead, if I hadn't been Taken." No sour grapes, right? There is some genuine mirth when she watches the other woman on the steps, eyes crinkling at the corners. She gives Tris a deep nod and then, after a moment's pause, says, "Actually uh..." Hesitant, she clears her throat. "There is either a lattice, or a big rock in Jackson Square that it might be really helpful if I could find some assistance in destroying." She nods out some understated approval or appreciation, one, for Tris' ideas about the place and its true use. One of her hands finds the back of Peter's clawed hand as ever it does when she notices him narrating but studiously avoids its mention or notice. She nods at Peter and says with a chuckle, "I always love when you do that. It seems to backfire when I try, like at the coffeehouse, with that guy on the sound system." Probably a story there.
Molly starts to tug out a cigarette, then shoves it back into the pack and secrets it away inside her jacket again. She stands still, only moving her head with a small jerk to the side as she gives Tris a very dubious look. "Maybe." Her nose wrinkles slightly, however, and runs her fingers down the side of her head, past her hair, behind her hear and down towards her jaw. "I guess I can do that - how annoying are the customers? I don't - it's hard to have a lot of patience with customers, these days," she comments with a one-sided shrug, before letting herself slump back into the nearest wall. Peter's very distracting, however, so she glances over to listen, mouth hanging open in a wholly baffled expression.
Lilium isn't the only one who reaches for Peter. It requires a slight shift in his footing and a twist of his torso, but Tris' hand is also reaching to try to touch lightly on Peter's forearm, the opposite one from that that the Fairest touched. "Peter, you're narrating." It's gently straightforward but in a quiet tone not designed to fill the expansive space. There's no judgment in the Beast's face or tone, but for whatever reason, he seems to think this is a necessary (perhaps, he thinks, helpful?) to make for Peter.
If his hand has made contact, there's a light squeeze as he says, "I will keep your skill set in mind. I'd like to sort out a good way to keep track of those of our kind who'd like to contribute and the kinds of skills they might lend in case we need to assemble a team. You, Autumns, probably have better ideas about how to keep those sorts of secrets safe than I do." This is, it would seem, intended to be some kind of joint venture, and evidently the villain-hero with his narration hasn't rules himself out of those Tris considers useful for it.
The photographer's dark eyes sweep toward the ombre-haired Fairest and he cants his head thoughtfully. "A lattice or big rock. That sounds... doable? I'm assuming mundane methods wouldn't prove successful?" Or does he just need to call her a mortal demolition company? "I'd like more details, of course." It's an invitation, but not a pressured one; it can probably be left for another time because he does turn his attention to Molly.
Demitrius Kesel, Photographer, flashes a cocky grin to the other Summer. "Well, since I'm a high end photographer, there shouldn't be many customers. Enough to keep up the front, but there's no reason they can't be some of us with the right connections. Now, as to who all might come in for the real matters of business..." He shrugs. "How are you with the other kinds of beings in New Orleans? Can you deal with the werewolves and the vampires and whoever else might come poking around without getting your... feathers ruffled?" This is probably Molly's fair warning that being employed by Tris includes bad jokes.
Peter grimaces, "Eh, ...seems I haven't gotten a handle on that quite yet." He frowns deeply, reaching over to snap his briefcase closed. Lilium gets a worried look before something snags his attention, "Oh. It's Tris." Perhaps another private thought?
"Vampires, werewolves, I've been seeking those out as of late. It's been written that our blood is peculiarly tasty, and werewolves have affinities for those that commune with spirits: An Autumn specialty." He turns a curious gaze upon Molly, "I never did discern -your- specialty, Molly. I'd be willing to trade, tit for tat. Secret for secret." There's that sly grin again.
"What place are you talking about, Lilium? Our hollow in the Hedge?" He gestures towards the office door upstairs, as if somehow it's up there.
"Honestly, I an not sure," Lilium confesses, at the question of mundane methods of destruction. Her eyes go haunted and she stares off into space when she says softly, explaining to both Tris and Peter, "I...I accidently sung a portal into the Hedge open and a little girl disappeared into it. I had to go after her, but apparently, something to do with singing does it. The lattice opens into the Hedge but if you don't have a way back out like we do... you could wait until you starve to death for the quiet that will open the portal back out up." She bites her lip, "I'm not sure if a normal singer could open it, but it's not worth risking more innocent lives to see." She adds, then, belatedly, to Tris, "I can heal people... a little. And sing enough to root anyone in earshot to the spot. I mean, Not combat helpful directly, maybe, but, I'm at the service of the greater good of our kind around here, so if I can help, let me know?"
Molly shrugs in response to Tris's question, thinking it over with slight shifts in her facial expression, a pinching of her lips, pushed aside, eyebrows a little heavier. "I don't know, it's not just quantity, right? Fancy customers can be a real pain if they think they're better 'n you," the young woman points out, extending a talon in the rich one's direction with a small grin. "How am I? I don't know. I don't stick my nose in their shit and they don't stick their nose in mine, I guess? Don't think I ever had a vampire Karen ask to talk to my manager, but maybe that's not a real big difference in the end..." she waxes pensive, then shakes it off.
The question regarding her speciality makes her free her hands for display. "I just - I fight things if I got to? I don't know. I'm pretty good at climbing and falling back down, too?" The last is spoken through a sharpening grin, thumb under her chin, a sharp black nail digging in. "Maybe I oughta have made it sound better and more secret?"
"It's fine, Peter," Tris means it when he says it. "If it's not helpful for me to let you know, then I won't. But if it were me making the adjustments, I'd want to know." It's not an apology from the Summer Beast, but then those are two reasons those sorts of things are rare. "I have a couple of contacts, but not many yet. I think there will be more that could prove to be allies in all this." Also enemies, but that's obvious, isn't it?
There's a slow nod, "Something we could look into. Robin might be able to help. They're quite effective at destroying things, although it being in that public a space could be a problem..." Tris trails off, obviously thinking. It's not his strong suit but there's no smoke. "Healing is useful." There's a flash of a smile for Lilium for that. "And pacification, I'd call that other thing. Helpful with a team or for retreat." He's a tactician, not a strategist. He handles on the ground level thinking only. There must be other hands in this venture of his that do the bigger picture stuff.
"The job is yours if you want it, Molly. At least to try it out, anyway. You can start by helping supervise my work crews getting things set up once I get all the paperwork finished up." Tris makes gesture around to the too empty space that will need some repairs and improvements for a high end photography studio to fly.
Peter gives Molly a shake of his head, "No, I enjoy your bluntness. It's refreshing, actually." He taps his chin, thoughtful, "I'm the best pugilist I know, but, then again, I don't know many of them." A lightbulb almost appears, "I'd love to stage a friendly tourney. Just to see where I rank among my peers." He looks from Tris, to Molly, to Lilium, "If there is a known hedgeway, we should definitely check it out." He takes the laptop and slides it into his briefcase, "I'll call you about the book, Tris, and thank you kindly for the laptop. I'll think of a gift for you in return." He holds his free hand out for Lilium, "Show me the place?"
Offering Peter a nod, Lilium takes his hand and steps close. "May I have your coat?" she asks softly of him. To Tris, she says, "I don't know... I don't doubt the ability on Robin's part, but every time I see the dragonhide armor..." Well, the unspoken implication is that it would be like chillin' with someone in humanskin clothes. She touches one of her horns self consciously as her cheeks color. She offers Molly and Tris a wave.
Molly rises on her toes, pushing herself up along the wall with her fingers laced right above her head, claws out of the way in a relatively peaceful, unguarded stance. At least, up to a point. She's clearly still not sure about Tris's offer, but eventually shrugs. "Alright. I don't know shit about photography, though. I just take pictures with my phone. But I guess I can - like, make appointments or whatever like that? If your customers aren't huge assholes."
Peter gets a quizzical look from the clawed harpy. And a single, baffled word. "Pugilist." Like she doesn't believe anyone actually says that.
It's less Peter's choice of word and more the look on Molly's face that makes Tris chuckle. It means he has a sunny smile for Peter and Lilium. "For me, gifts are gifts," which implies he knows that for some that's not quite the case. "Thank you for letting me borrow your book, Peter. I'll get it back to you, and uh... keep it away from carrots?" He sounds unsure if he's making a joke or not. But then... Rabbit everything. "A tournament sounds like a good time. Count me in."
He leaves the pair to their business while he turns to his own with Molly. "We can work out all the details. You'll need to let me buy you a wardrobe for work. High end." He reinforces those words, but there's a charming smile for Molly and, well, he's offering her free clothes? So, maybe there are perks to working for Tris Kesel.
Peter wanders up to the building's exit out, removing his coat to wrap around Lilium, "When are we getting you a proper cloak?" He's serious as can be, and escorts the other Fairest out into the frigid wind, "Good night and fare well, friends!"
--Molly watches Peter and Lilium go, then makes a face. "Y'all have fun at this tournament. I really don't think I oughta... nope." She shakes her head, then pushes herself away from the wall with her shoulderblades, standing straight, hands tucked behind her back as she gives Peter a wary, suspicious look. "Am I gonna end up looking like an asshole? This is vintage, you know?" She gestures to her Call of Duty 2 promotional t-shirt. "I don't know. Maybe. Nothing too - you know."