Adolin Kholin

so, he offers a small laugh, the smallest nod given in turn. ❝ Working here wouldn't suit my vibe. Now, being a well-known shopper... ❞ that was another story, one face far too familiar in a sea of so many brought here against their wills.

curious eyes follow the other after his own inspection of the garment, that playful smile continuing ever on without a single sign of falter. and when the other brings out a pair of pants, lightly colored and accentuated with the most subtle textures, he finds himself just as impressed as adolin had been in him, enough so that he lets out a small whistle of appreciation. ❝ You're right. It balances well without overpowering the centerpiece. Though there could never be too much, ❞ he teases lightly, falling into his usual banter when making, well, 'friends' of any kind.

Laughing along with him, Adolin gave a friendly pat on Aventurine's shoulder. "I like the way you think, my friend" - he said, adding. "And the results are noticeable. Nobody puts effort into looking that good by accident." What could he say? People deserved to be complimented. He himself loved being recognized - a fact that became evident when his smile broadened as his choice met with the other man's approval.

Once again, a brief laugh escaped him. "You took the words right out of my mouth" - he admitted. He felt the fabric of the pieces again, admiring their quality, and let out a thoughtful sound. In a different context, he wouldn't have thought twice about simply buying them. But here, he had quickly learned that he couldn't have everything he wanted.

Which was precisely why the proposal that followed left Adolin even more surprised - something that was clearly reflected in his expression. "Oh, no. I couldn't possibly accept that, however tempting it might be" - he said. "Besides, people usually give something when they want something in return" - Adolin teased, his smile turning a little sharper. It was clear from his tone that this didn't bother him in the slightest. "So what is it you might want, I wonder?"

"IT IS GOOD"

Not terribly descriptive, that.

At the request to sit beside them, they look up to him for a few seconds as they consider, before turning back toward the countertop and shrugging. There were so many other places to sit in the cafe, but in WX-78's time in Spirale they had grown accustomed to sharing a space with many more people than before. In the Constant, when they wanted their space, they'd either yell at everyone else to leave them alone or run off on solo "missions" for days at a time, but here, there was always Yesteryear or the Mistwood if they needed some alone time. Otherwise, it was more productive to maintain at least a passive attitude to those who had yet to wrong them.

"I AM WAITING FOR IT FOR MY ORDER. MY POOR LUCK THAT IT WAS SOLD OUT RIGHT WHEN I WANTED IT."

As WX complains, they prop one elbow up and rest a cheek in it.

"IT IS A PINK AND GREEN SWIRL. THE RASPBERRY GIVES IT A FRUITINESS AND THE MATCHA BALANCES IT WITH A SORT OF..."

They don't know the word "umami" and wave their hand in a small circle, as if gesticulating would bring the word to mind.

"GREEN, I GUESS? LIKE GREEN TEA. ALMOST SAVORY BUT... IT'S DIFFERENT"

gloved fingers press to his chin as he lets out a playful, little hum whilst perusing the array of clothes. ❝ Oh, not at all. None of these will do. Here, follow me. ❞ motioning toward the royal, he makes his way to another section not too far off, housing similar fashion to where they were just looking. the only difference was the fabrics... and the considerably steepened prices.

more than satisfied with this particular change, he's swift to pull out a beautiful, silk shirt with sheer cloth woven across its torso. turning to face his newfound companion, he holds it up as if to gauge the make and fit the best he can, soon shifting it in his hands to pass it over for the other to give his own inspection.

Without rushing him in the slightest, the highprince looked curious. And when he saw him stop in front of a section of the shop, his smile broadened. Ah, yes. Those garments were truly special, and, even before he could touch them, it was easy to see just how artistic the craftsmanship really was. Yes, this man had good taste. It was a pity Adolin didn't have the kind of money on him that he was accustomed to having.

surprised excitement after such straightforwardness. it gives fiyero more of an impression than he might suspect, a thoughtful grin sneaking around her painted lips.

she leans in, raises a claw to the button of his collar. ' careful now, ' she hums quietly. ' you underestimate just how willing i am. '

the ring on her finger with two birds intertwined has never meant that fiyero restricts herself— her lovers are many, affection given freely. she's not sure this man knows just what he's getting himself into. not that it's a problem. sometimes it's more fun that way.

With that said, Adolin’s smile didn’t falter when her claw brushes his collar - if anything, it sharpens. “Oh?” - his hand comes up, not to stop hers, but to rest lightly at her wrist, his thumb grazing the edge of those claws, like he's testing a blade he fully intends to trust. “That's not true, though. I'm not underestimating you," he adds, his voice low and amused. "I'm just keeping up."

They'd made a little bit of a habit of starting their day at this cafe at least once a week, a delicious treat to start the day, and a drink that reminded them of someone to wallow in their... their nothing. It didn't matter.

It's as they're staring into their pistachio mocha, contemplating the stupidity and unfairness of the universe- universes? -waiting for the rest of their order to be ready, when another patron suddenly starts talking to them. Them! Of all the people here, the brooding robot in one of the counter seats? It- it's fine.

"THERE ARE MANY SMELLS IN HERE. IT COULD BE ANYTHING."

It wasn't wrong. In a cafe, many sweet smells tended to mingle in the air and fade into one another.

"BUT"

There was one that stood out stronger than most others at the moment.

"THEY HAVE A NEW RASPBERRY MATCHA LOAF CAKE BAKING RIGHT NOW. YOU MIGHT BE SMELLING THAT."

It was the same thing that WX-78 was kept waiting for. Just its luck they'd run out a bit before it got here! ...At least it'd be fresh. That's what it kept telling itself.

fiyero laughs— certainly, yes, she'll indulge a compliment. they come in many forms, and she never tires of seeing awe on people's faces when they look at her.

' not many people have, ' she muses outloud. ' i'm one of a kind. '

she looks at him and can't help the initial spark of enjoyment. bright hair, contrasted by tan skin. a few black streaks hidden beneath the blonde. athletic, too, if his form is anything to go by. fiyero isn't shy about looking, takes a moment to do just that before she says any more. eventually, her eyes flick up from his body back to his eyes.

no new stock that he notices, though there is another customer shopping around. more specifically, he seems to be looking into a rather beautifully colored outfit, one that complements him well. ah, were it not for one, little tidbit. he waits in momentary silence, observing the other as he seems to genuinely contemplate purchasing it, until he speaks up at long last.

❝ I wouldn't go with that one, friend... ❞ he chimes in with a lilt of his voice, one step forward as he makes his presence fully known. ❝ Not unless you wanted cheap fabric at a hiked up price. There's far better quality than that, even on the racks. ❞

Although there was a catch: there, he wasn't Highprince Adolin. And, therefore, he had to be content with the frustration of only looking and not buying, even when he found a piece as exquisite as that one.

He was so absorbed in analyzing the clothes that he only noticed someone else was there when he heard those words. His eyes danced from the garment to the other man, who had a style that was impossible to miss.

For a brief moment, his expression tightens - more out of pride than offense - but it quickly softens into a faint grin.

"Oh?"- he hums, amused. "And here I was, thinking I’d found a hidden gem". He gives the piece one last, exaggeratedly thoughtful inspection before setting it back. "Tragic, I would say".

Being proficient with at least a sword was a mandatory survival skill as the Doctor had grown to realize early on, since sweet words and trickery don’t work on everyone equally. He detested such barbaric practices but could see the merit in it, hence he knew how to hold himself in combat. Besides, it was about time he polished his swordsmanship a bit; especially with so many enemies around.

“Hmm,” he scoffed softly when Adolin parried his first strike, a small smile on his lips as he retreated and fell back into his original stance: one hand held behind his back, sword held firmly in the other. The young man’s compliment was acknowledged with a small, gentle nod, “not shabby at all. We do differ, but our applications of the craft, I assume, are serving their intended purpose.”