#tavernkeeper

It's a full-body laugh, too, shaking their shoulders and eyes in tears. They stopped being able to stand about a minute in, and are now sitting down on one of the bar stools, forehead against their counter as they hit the wood with their hand again and again.

Every once in a while, the laugh dies down to just giggling, and they try looking up again, only to see his face, and it sets them off all over again. 

“I take it you don't like it, then.” Quasar states, voice dry as a desert.

“It looks!!! So ugly!” They manage to speak through new fits of laughter. Quasar only sighs, turning back to Cosmo and arching an eyebrow.

Their Tavernkeeper is visibly amused, though whether that is at Nael’s expense or his own, he doesn't know. 

“Does it really look that bad?” He asks them, pulling up a stool for himself.

“They're exaggerating.” Cosmo promises. “It may be a little... Patchy, for now-”

“You look ridiculous-” Nael interrupts, still giggling. 

“But!! I'm sure once it has a chance to grow out, it'll look very distinguished.” Cosmo reassures him. “You certainly have the facial structure to pull it off.”

Quasar scratches at the hairs now growing on his chin. He hadn't had much time to shave during the island quest, and by the time he finally did, enough hair had grown to give him an idea of what a full beard would look like on his face. He'd been intrigued enough to actually try it out, a decision he is just now realizing may have been a tad too hasty. 

He doesn’t think it looks bad. He’s not sure it looks good, either. It’s just- he’s freshly 21 years-old, and the youngest person among everyone here for at least a few years. Even Cain, the one closest to him in age, feels old beyond his years - probably thanks to all the trauma, but still. Quasar is just tired of feeling like the baby of the group, and, y’know. People with beards always seem a little older.

Nael has finally recovered enough from their fit to actually sit up straight, though they still seem to be giggling to themselves. 

“Oh, man!” they laugh. “It’s- listen, it’s not that it’ll look terrible, it’s just - hah - right now it looks a little bit like a boy growing facial hair for the first time, y’know?” they look at Quasar once again, and visibly have to bite their lips to not collapse into giggling again. “It’s- pfft- it’s a little...”

“Pitiful?” he completes for them, face blank of any emotion. 

“I didn’t say that!!! I did not say that!! Okay?? I didn’t!!”

“It’s okay, I know what you meant.” he sighs, turning back to Cosmo, who is shaking their head at their patrons’ antics. “Should I just shave it all off, then?”

“Don’t let Nael make any decisions on your appearance.” they tell him, still smiling. “We both know they just enjoy making fun of you.”

“Hey-!”

“Just do what makes you happy. If you’re curious about growing a beard, grow the damn beard. If you hate it, you can just shave it off later.” 

They have a point. Quasar smiles at them, grateful. “Thanks, Cosmo. You’re right. I might as well try it out for a little bit.”

“Ask some of the old fishermen by the docks about it if you have the time.” they tell him. “They might be able to give some advice. Now, can I get you a drink?”

What an excellent idea. “Give me something that’ll boost my confidence a little bit, or give me the strength to endure Nael laughing at me.”

“Will do.” and Cosmo heads to their drink-mixing station.

There’s a beat of silence in the tavern, Quasar and Nael on their respective seats, him looking down at the counter. He doesn’t know what Nael is doing, but he doesn’t think they will break the quiet. 

They are always surprising him, apparently. “Hey.” they call softly.

He looks up at them, arms politely crossed on the bartop, and arches an eyebrow. They seem a little uncomfortable, hunched shoulders and ears lowered. Even Andu looks regretful, from his perch on their shoulders.

“I didn’t- I meant no offense.” they offer, picking at the threads on their robe tassels. “It’s- I mean, I do think it looks a little silly, but- Cosmo’s right, you shouldn’t listen to me. It’s fine, it’s- whatever. It’s your face. Grow the beard if you like it, just- I’m.”

“You are really bad at apologizing, you know that?” he asks, amused and - dare he say it - a little charmed.

Nael flinches at that, just a bit. “Y-yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m- sorry, if I. Offended you, or something.”

“Apology accepted.” he smiles at them. “Not that it was needed, anyway. I’ve learned to take your insults in stride by now.”

Nael scoffs. “Come on, now. Insulting your personality is fair game, you do have that stick up your ass. But physical appearance is just- unnecessary. And tacky.” they seem to hesitate. Lick their lips, avoiding eye contact, still fidgeting with their hems. But eventually they do add, “Not to mention, y’know. Hypocritical.”

Quasar is startled at that, both at the admission itself and the honesty of it. He honestly doesn’t know why Nael would have reason to be insecure about their appearance. Granted, he’s not an expert on beauty standards at the best of times, and he has no clue if they would be different in Avalon to justify this reaction, but as far as he understands it? Nael’s fine. Pretty, petite with almond-shaped eyes and a nice smile. Cute, even.

“Well” he starts, tentative. He’s never had a lot of friends, and as much as Nael gets on his nerves, he does count them as one. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing here and hurt them. “I think you look great.” a pause. “...Even though you could stand to do a little less crime.”

They perk up at that. “So some crime is alright then?”

“Now, I never said that.”

They giggle, again, but it feels different this time. Less mocking, more fond, and there’s a darker flush on their cheeks. 

It’s a lovely sound. He grins back at them, chest warm. He feels lighter, that he’s been able to cause that sound.