[ti]private[/ti]take a dip

Finn steps from the shadows of an arch that disappears into darkness. Had it been there before? If Allotta Bambooga had looked at that wall before, she'd have sworn there was nothing but damp stone.

The whole church feels damp. The air smells of rain. Water runs in rivulets down Finn's arms and drips from his hair, yet the Swimmer himself is completely dry. The weather outside had been pleasant, but the windows rattle against a torrential downpour.

A Ceaseless Downpour.

"You're ruining my floors."

Thunder cracks, and the windows of the church bloom with the flash of lightning.

Cillian has always been averse to physical affection.

Well. Maybe not always.

(There was a time in his life when someone could approach him and he wouldn't instinctively shrink back in fear of reprimand, a time when raised voices might not mean danger and when a hug was something he might enjoy.)

In VR, Finn's character model does not truly represent the way Cil goes rigid with shock and fear when Allotta bounds up to hug him. She's likely too quick to notice the way his smug, smirking expression falls away to widened eyes and mouth half-open in protest.

She's very... warm. That had to do with being a Kindler, he supposed. It's not unpleasant, but he feels the simulated sensations and isn't sure what to make of them. His heart is hammering wildly, the heart rate monitor on his wrist no doubt straining to keep up.

She's still close when she pulls away, and he's still reeling.

"Still got both my arms and legs," he affirms, wriggling the fingers on both hands as if to provide proof. "I had BYTES from the dungeons I've run and I grinded a bit in the wilds for it."

The archway into the void he'd emerged from has disappeared.

There's an idle animation as Finn roots through his inventory, pulling out his KYOGRE EGG and setting it next to the waterlogged tome. He has been reading to the egg from this ANCIENT BOOK OF LEGENDS, hoping that perhaps EXPOSING it to such materials might stir something within its shell.

Another egg, much smaller, pops into existence in his arms. He'd gotten it from a Halloween Egg Hunt, and it was shaking as if it might HATCH soon.

"Haven't seen you in a bit. Thought you finally gave up."

He smirks at her, falling back on defensive humour to disguise his anxiety.

A different sort of alarm sparks when she takes the egg.

"Be careful with— His brow furrows. "Oh. Guess it's immune."

He'd been worried that the molten gold she was dripping all over his floors might harm the egg, but the veined surface is unmarred. Allotta Bambooga would find it to be damp, but warm. Perhaps she'd feel the very slightest stirring of movement within.

Allotta's surprisingly open about her life; something to which Cil can't relate.

Until...

"You're in Ireland?" Comical, when asked with his strong Irish accent. "Small world, it is."

Hadn't she mentioned she was a firefighter before? Maybe she knew— but, no, he wasn't going to ask about that. That'd just be awkward. Besides, Ireland was a big country, and it's not like he knew everyone from there. Not even in his own city. Speaking of, "Whereabouts, then?"

Lord. She does live near him.

He's not nervous to reveal details to a stranger for his own safety. It's his family he worries about. That the Quinns ran crime in the city was a bit of an open secret. They had cops and lawyers and judges on their payroll.

He was a loan shark.

But she asks, and he can't dodge the question without being super obvious.

"What, my accent didn't give me away?" It was possible Allotta Bambooga couldn't tell the difference. He's been mistaken for Scottish or English before, and while he can't fathom not being able to tell the difference, it's more common than you'd think. "Yeh. From Dublin as well. Family's from th'North side but I live in the city proper."

"Haven't heard that since primary school."

He's not sneering at her, though. It's been a while since they've run into each other and it wouldn't do to drive his rival off within the first two minutes of reconnecting. There was plenty of time for her to hate him yet!

Especially if they meet up in the real world.

Whatever anxiety he might've felt while trying to come up with a good way to deflect that suggestion without coming across as rude, it's distracted by the blush that floods Allotta's cheeks. Finn can be pretty oblivious to certain social cues but he certainly isn't blind.

Shit. Is she that shy about asking me?

He doesn't connect it with a crush; merely a fear of rejection to which he could relate.

"We could, yeah," he agrees against his own instincts. "Whereabouts do you like t'go in the city? My granddad owns a pub downtown. Clovers, if you've heard of it. Could go out for drinks."

It was right beside the hilariously named Whip Me, Beat Me, Eat Me bakery.

"That's the one," Finn confirms.

Apparently she walks by often enough, which means he's probably caught a glimpse of her. It's nothing against her that he hasn't noticed; it was only under certain circumstances that he'd notice anyone, and it's for that same reason that he does not take the opportunity to look down her shirt.

One, that was rude. Two, physical attraction comes slow for him.

He laughs, sudden and sharp, when she mentions 'the owner'.

"I doubt it," he says. Then, realising that could come across incredibly offensive, he quickly corrects, "Because he's gay. Not because of you, or anything."

Thankfully for Allotta, Finn doesn't immediately jump to the most dramatic conclusion. He chalks it up to embarrassment as she realizes she's been misinterpreting the signals Chu-e has been sending this whole time, and chuckles as she hands the egg back and covers her face.

"He can be hard to read," Finn allows. "Cool you get all that free stuff, though. I have to run shifts to get that shit for free."

He's joking, mostly. He did pick up the occasional shifts at the bakery when Chu-e wasn't doing so well and he needed the extra pair of hands, but Cillian doesn't truly believe his friend would deny him free goods if he were to stop helping out.

"I live above the bar, so I'm not far myself."