driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Everyone!!!
Broadcast: No
Action: The Iskaulit
When: For the rest of the month

[Now that we've all had time to settle back into our ships, let's see what's going on over on the Iskaulit! For the new folks, there are already a few establishments and projects going on, but there's plenty of room for everyone, either to join in or to build their own thing. So mingle away!]

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[he nods; he's listening. and he glances away this time, because he's thinking as well. he's got something on his mind, rattling around, back and forth. he's considering something.

there's a great many things to consider, really. Coil is a meticulous sort, and he's already deep in a sea of unpredictable variables, so stopping to try and think now quickly ends up rather overwhelming.

it's too late to go back and approach this with much caution, though. she's already sitting here talking with him on the near-side of the first lines of his defenses.

so... it's quite impulsively (for him) that he reaches up to pick at the neckline of his shirt and tug it down, revealing the pit of a puncture scar just above his collar bone. there's another one nearby, at the base of his neck, just like it.]

[. . . Oh.]

[Poor thing. Poor thing - but brave, too, she thinks fiercely, because look at him, showing off his pain like that. It takes work to show off your scars, she should know, and he must have worked so goddamn hard.]

[Brave. He's very brave. She likes him a lot, just like that, and it shows in the fierce pride in her eyes, gleaming even in the dark.]

Did somebody try to kill you too, um--? God, I wish you knew your name. I'm Abigail.

[oh, how he likes that look. it reminds him of himself--it reminds him of her--and that sucks a little more of the reason out of his decisions.

he nods with the distinct sort of finality that might hint at the fact that whoever had attempted to kill him had succeeded, or it might only confirm her initial guess. it's hard for him to communicate with much detail, here.

but that doesn't stop him from at least attempting to convey his name. regardless of the fact that she probably doesn't know sign language, he slowly spells out his name-- C-O-I-L]

[It's enough to raise suspicion, at least. He's so - it's like the matter is closed, and that worries her, and there's a fierceness that rises up, too, that tells her she'd kill for him. Just like that.]

[But that's another matter. What happens next is rising, burgeoning excitement, because she knows how to do that, Ben taught her, and she's still sitting on her knees but she bounces a little in enthusiasm because yes good perfect. Awkwardly, she starts to sign: H, and then she stops and actually signs "hi", a sort-of salute.]

Coil! Like a coiled spring? Is that how you pronounce it? Sorry, I'm not very good, I only learned a little, but I know the alphabet and some greetings. Maybe you can teach me more?

[he doesn't exactly smile, since that expression had been written out of his nonverbal dictionary many years ago, but there is a distinct lightening to the angle of his features, especially around the eyes. and his posture straightens too, in eager surprise. it's so rare for someone to already know any of his language, and even more rare for him to actively want them to know it. it feels like fate.

he nods! and traces a perfect spiral in the air with one finger. coiled like a rope. like a snail's shell.

and then he immediately nods again, followed by the sign for 'teach,' just in case she knows it. or maybe wants to learn it on the spot.]

[Coiled like a rope. She grins, thumbs up. Got it! As far as this other thing . . .]

[Well, she mimics it, uncomprehending at first. Something coming from her head?]

Is that . . . see? Know? Oh, I'm - sorry, that was really stupid! Teach?

[She laughs quietly, a little embarrassed, and mimics it again, more neatly.]

Am I doing it right?

[he nods. he's pleased. his expressions are subtle, and the light from the tiny, makeshift lamp is dim, but the signs are there when you know to look. she might be new to the language, but she's interested, and she learns quickly-- two traits he very much appreciates.

pointing at himself, he repeats the sign for 'teach,' and then follows it up by pointing at her and signing 'learn.']

[He's kind of adorable. She's not sure, but she thinks he's like her - eager to learn and a little bit of a perfectionist. That's not the only way he's like her, but one of the ways.]

[She repeats his sign with precision, much faster than previously, and then bites her lip.]

So that's teach and learn. How do you sign "teacher and student"?

[ah yes, a logical question. it's a good next step to wonder about; he doesn't have to try and lead the impromptu lesson there himself.

and, he looks particularly pleased with himself then, because the answer is so simple. it's such a useful, versatile part of his language. he's excited to show her.

he repeats the signs for 'teach' and 'learn,' but after each one, he draws hands down in front of him as if indicating a person. with that gestural suffix, teach and learn instantly become 'teacher' and 'learner.']

[Oh! She squeaks a little, so that it echoes in the dark, and then covers her mouth (and grin) with both hands.]

So it's . . . teaching-person? Learning-person? Like that? That's awesome.

[She readjusts, then repeats his motions. It takes her a couple times to get them down, but once she's confident, she pauses and then signs C-O-I-L teacher and then points to herself before glancing at him questioningly.]

[oh, he just seems so pleased! and then spells out the letters of her name, even though she probably already knows them, just to complete the entire thought.

the signs for 'very good' follow after, because he means them.]

[Yesss. She clasps her hands together and grins openly now.]

You're sweet.

[--and just like that, the expression blinks off of his face. he looks startled, honestly-- like she might as well have slapped him.

this is something that he has absolutely never been called outside of stinging sarcasm. and as such, he maybe can't figure out if she's teasing him or not.]

[Oh. She frowns slightly.]

Did I say something wrong? Do you not like sweet?

[ugh, that word again. it just sounds wrong.

he might even make a bit of a face over it, as he draws a big question mark in the air.]

. . . It wasn't supposed to be bad. But you don't like it. Do you want to know what I mean?

[She bites her lip and rolls her eyes skyward, staring at the ceiling as she thinks. It takes a surprising amount of time for her to sort out her own shorthand.]

Sweet just means . . . I guess it means you're being kind to me. So - it's like a math problem, a little bit. Coil is kind to me + I don't expect people to be kind to me = Coil is sweet. Sweet is kind and surprising.

Does that make sense?

[his brow is furrowed, but it's more out of skepticism than a lack of understanding. because, 'kind' is another thing that he has never been called.

he makes the sign for it, complete with the most doubtful expression he can muster-- hands making a small, neat pedaling motion out from his heart.

he's being kind?]

[It takes her a minute to get this one, but after she mimics it for a few moments, she understands - it comes out from the heart. Then she nods, more solemn than emphatic.]

You're teaching me instead of chasing me away. You're talking to me. That's kind, to me.

[Maybe her bar isn't very high. But it feels nice. Warm.]

[he nods slowly, shallowly. he'll take her word for it. he tries not to think about it much more than that.

maybe it's to help skirt past it all, that he demonstrates the sign then. he might as well, right?

fingers drawn down a couple times from the mouth and chin-- and because it's so alarmingly close to the sign for 'cute,' he spells it out afterward. S-W-E-E-T. just to be clear.]

[Fingers down from the mouth and chin. This one's easy, it's about taste, that's obvious. She repeats it a couple of times and then looks down at her fingers, curious.]

So it means both? Sweet like the taste and sweet like the characteristic?

[he nods. it's one of the most versatile signs-- even though he has little use for any of its meanings.

he spells out C-A-N-D-Y and S-U-G-A-R and D-I-A-B-E-T-E-S, and pointedly leaves out 'cute.' he's already made the mistake of arming someone with that word once.]

[It makes her giggle and curl up further on herself, signing them back at him. Candy, sugar, diabetes.]

What about--

[A little more slowly, she signs S-A-V-O-R-Y.]

That's what I used to say when people would call me sweet. "I'm not sweet, I'm savory."

[...he's not much of a joke person, but he finds that one funny. and he's glad to be moving past the previous topic, so his mood lightens easier than it might have otherwise.

he nods, appreciatively, and spends a minute thinking about that one.

eventually, he awkwardly offers the sign for 'tasty'--which is practically the silly, cliched gesture that anyone would use--and shrugs afterward.]

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