[Uncomfortable! Sampo would be anything but uncomfortable if Gepard outright stated that he’d cash in his favor for sex. Saying it out loud would clear up several different misconceptions all in one fell swoop, which is, of course, why that wouldn’t happen. It wouldn’t be a slow burn if the leads hooked up too soon and too easily.]
[Sampo will have to think of what he’d want from the good Captain for his victory prize, too. Money? The key to the vault in Qlipoth Fort? A priceless relic from the Museum? A kiss, if he was feeling cheeky about the whole thing. He’d expect one on the hand, like how a gentleman would. Maybe the cheek.]
That’s the spirit! It’s just a friendly game with your pal. We’re just having fun!
[It’s all fun and games, nothing to worry about.]
I’m glad that the Captain has such an easygoing outlook on losing. I thought you might be more competitive.
Anyway! You should eat up so that we can get those plants for you and get them all settled in.
[His eyes narrow, and Gepard thinks two very dangerous thoughts in a row: what might Figaro ask for if he wins, and, if it's fun enough, what would he have to do to convince Figaro into a second round? Then again, it's just as likely that Figaro would ask for money or treasure. Or blood, straight from the hospital.]
You're right. [He should absolutely wolf down the food, and Gepard turns his attention to doing just that- well, he tries to, there's a few moments in which he has to close his eyes and savor the taste, or look up at Figaro - blue eyes wide and astonished-]
This is really good? [And also-] Where did you get this...?
[As if he should be surprised at this point, and times in which he's caught up in-
...well, anyway. Gepard finishes his plate and winces, as he remembers the plates from the night before-] I'm really sorry about not cleaning up and leaving that for you...
[Maybe he'll ask for money. Maybe he'll ask for blood. Maybe he'll ask for sex. Who knows! That's part of the fun of it-- not knowing what the other person will ask for if they win. And isn't it telling about yourself what you hope they'll ask for?]
[But as far as things that are happening right now goes, Gepard seems to be enjoying his breakfast quite a lot, especially because it isn't anything all that special.]
The bread? [It's a nice, crunchy sourdough that goes well with the eggs and bacon. The eggs and bacon themselves are just standard Belobog fare.] There's a bakery that isn't too far from my apartment. They make some nice bread in the morning... or, well, I assume it's nice.
[Because he can't taste it. Sampo really misses carbs.]
Oh, it's fine. Gave me something to do. And I don't really do that kind of thing much anymore, so it's, like, kind of a novelty?
[A guy doesn't really have to do dishes when all of his meals either come out of someone's neck or from a blood bag. So doing dishes is sort of a brief trip into normalcy, which is kind of nice when your life has taken a hard left turn into a vampire novel.]
But don't expect me to be so nice all of the time! If I keep having to do your chores, it'll cost you.
[The bread is nice and crunchy. The sourdough has a rich flavor which pairs well with the eggs and bacon - nothing special, but also special in that someone made it for him. Gepard has to remind himself that he's just paying for it in blood instead of shield, but it's still a transaction.
(He still feels special.)
Gepard can laugh as Figaro brings up a cost, though. A cost would make things feel more...normal. A cost would tilt them back towards- friendly acquaintances, maybe friends at some point, some day, better not overthink it. Gepard can smile, because he's not a businessman, he's a guard, but he understands transactions and deals. This is just another deal. That's all. A deal with a mysterious man with a nice smile and green eyes, who challenged him to figure out his name, and Gepard needs to figure out if he wants to win or take his chances with a loss.
But he can do that later, when he's on the front lines, with nothing better to think about.]
I'll try not to end up too far into your debt, I promise. [He can at least gather the dishes. And leave them in the sink. He'll wash them later. There's no problems here- oh.]
There won't be any problems with people recognizing you, will there? Our games aside, it would be...complicated if someone recognizes you as a mugger or a thief, to say the least.
[Gepard finishes up his breakfast and puts his dishes in the sink like a good boy, presumably for him to wash later. Or for Sampo to end up washing later, but things would really have to deteriorate before he gets his hands back into soapy dishwater for this man again.]
[There's the question of his identity, and Sampo just laughs him off and hooks an arm through Gepard's, guiding him towards the door.]
Don't worry about it! I'm usually in disguise when I'm up here on the surface for business, and you're the only one who's seen my face when I've gone out... looking for dinner, let's say.
[His condition necessitates some precautions when it comes to his business dealings. There are plenty of money-making opportunities that he's had to pass on or approach in a much more cautious manner than he might have if he didn't have such a big secret to keep. He wants as little heat as possible on the Sampo Koski name, wants to avoid interactions with the Silvermane guard as much as he can. So-- different disguises, different aliases, faces and names that can be easily discarded if anyone starts getting suspicious.]
I think we'll be fine for a little shopping trip!
[Really, it's risky that Gepard knows his real face, even if he doesn't know his real name. But that cat's already out of the bag, there's no putting it back in again.]
[Gepard knows that he shouldn't, he really, really shouldn't, but-
He leans into Sampo's arm, his touch, ever so slightly. Just ever so slightly, because he can't indulge himself that much, but there's a small handful of people who'd touch him like this, and he's related to most of them, and is it bad to indulge? Just a little?
It probably is, but he's off for the next day or two. He can indulge a little. Right? Maybe not, but what's done is done.]
If you say so. [But he lets himself be guided to his door. Doesn't resist at all, really.] But if we're seen- that's fine, but what should I tell people if they ask me about you afterwards? There's no sense in-
[Why does it feel like he's doing something illegal. Immoral. Gepard makes a face, like he swallowed something vaguely unpleasant and is dealing with the aftertaste, and that 'something vaguely unpleasant' is considering what he's getting into in a new and more horrible way.]
-not agreeing on the details ahead of time. Just a friend, or...?
[How could it be bad to indulge, Gepard, when Sampo initiated the contact? If he didn't want to touch the good Captain, he wouldn't be touching him-- the fact that he's hooked an arm through Gepard's like they're bosom friends means that he at least doesn't hate the idea of it.]
[Really, there are a lot of things that he'd hate more than being touched by a handsome blond.]
Just a friend, that works. You do have those, right?
[He must. Gepard's a regular adult man, he must have at least a few people that he'd call friends. People that he'd go out with, someone he'd share a beer with after work or whatever it is that strapping guardsmen do on their downtime.]
Don't overthink it, I doubt anyone will even give you a second glance. We're just two normal people doing normal things!
[He does have friends and all of them are connected to his job. Gepard doesn't say that, though, because maybe Figaro is right? Maybe Figaro has a point when he says that no one would notice them - it's not as if people would recognize him not wearing his uniform. Right?]
You're right.
[He's overthinking this! And out they go, Gepard pausing to-]
How do you get inside, anyway?
[Lock his door, because, well. Why wouldn't he?]
Don't answer that- I already know you wouldn't tell the truth. If I knew about it, I could stop it. [Not that he would, but...]
I already told you that I can pick any lock in this city. How's it surprising that I can get into your apartment?
[He doesn't need a key. Gepard could give him one if it would make him feel better, but Sampo rarely enters through the door anyway. But if the good Captain would like to think that he's getting into his house in a relatively normal fashion, that's his prerogative.]
[They step out into the normal chill of a Belobogian morning, arm in arm. Just two friends having a little stroll, nothing for anyone to take notice of.]
You live pretty close to the florist's. Was that on purpose?
[It would be very cute if the Captain lived close to the florist's because of his cute hobby. Even if he's objectively bad at it, it's endearing that he's so dedicated to its pursuit.]
[People are definitely going to ask him questions later about the dark-haired man entering and leaving his apartment, and Gepard has no idea how he's going to answer them or handle Pela, or his sisters (as if Pela knows, his sisters will know), or anyone else. Or, worse, they might not ask him anything at all, and that's how he'll know they're snooping in his personal life.
And he wants to say, hey. Figaro. There's a difference between entering through a window and entering through a door, and the more he acts like he belongs, the more questions people will have for him, but then Figaro asks about the florist and Gepard just shuts up for a long moment.]
Not...exactly. [It's said very carefully. (Or to put it another way, yes, it was on purpose and he tried justifying it after the fact.)] I was in a hurry to move out and this was the best apartment that I could find that was in my budget. The fact it is near the florist is only a bonus.
[Cute! The Captain may have had a budget and may have needed to move out quick, but the fact that he managed to find a place that's also in close proximity to the purveyor of his special interest is a little too coincidental.]
[They stroll towards the shop. Sampo absolutely acts as though he belongs there, as though coming out of Gepard's apartment in the morning is nothing new, as though the two of them walking together is the most normal thing in the world. If any intelligence officers catch wind of the dark-haired stranger that's gotten all chummy with their Captain, well, then that's Gepard's problem, isn't it? But he's a smart man, he must be able to deal with a few inquisitive women. He goes out and punches Fragmentum monsters in the face on a regular basis, how could handling Pela or Serval be any worse than that?]
Lucky, then. And they must pay Captains better than I expected if you can afford a nice place this close to the Administrative District.
[The apartments and houses there are, of course, pricier than the residential areas further out from the city center. That's why Sampo had to get his Overworld safe house in one of the... less nice areas of town.]
Any thoughts on what you want to try your hand at this time? [What poor plant does he want to butcher?] I'm a rose kind of guy, myself, but that probably wouldn't fit on your windowsill.
[Why does he feel seen through, why does it feel like Figaro saw through what he was intending, how does he recover from this-
But Figaro says he likes roses, and Gepard perks up like he's a puppy that was just offered a treat. His eyes slightly widen, his lips curl up in a small, shy smile that he really ought to smother, but it can linger for a moment, Figaro can see.]
I like roses. But you're right... [He can admit it.] ...even if I didn't kill it, my windowsill would be a bad place for a rose bush. I feel like I should get something sturdy, or, barring that...
[...fine.] Cheap. I keep on telling myself that I should be happy with the florist simply being close to where I live. Even if I can't keep a plant alive, it's nice seeing them as I go back and forth from work, and a bouquet lasts long enough until I inevitably go back to the front lines again. [That is to say, a handful of days.] But I always find myself buying a new plant when I'm back in Belobog. I tell myself that this time, it will work out.
There has to be something sturdy enough to withstand a little neglect. If the Architects could get some plants to survive the Eternal Freeze, there has to be something that can survive you.
[Gepard Landau cannot possibly be a greater ecological disaster than the Eternal Freeze. It's just not possible, he might be a force of nature but he's not an apocalypse. They just haven't found the right indestructible plant yet.]
[The bell above the door jingles as they walk into Eversummer Florist. The woman behind the counter greets Gepard, obviously recognizing him, and seems politely confused about the fact that he has someone with him, but doesn't comment on it. Sampo just gives her a jaunty little wave.]
What about a succulent? They're pretty hardy, and I think some of them are okay with cold weather.
[Maybe not Belobog-cold weather, but there are varieties that should at least be able to stay alive even if they're near a cold window. And some of them even bloom if they're really well taken care of, so that would be a rewarding thing for Gepard. Finally getting a plant happy enough to give him a flower.]
[Gepard recognizes the woman. Vaska. She'd been the one who sold him some lilies before his last tour of duty. Reassured him that they were rather sturdy, no matter what he did they'd find a way of surviving. He gives her a little smile, hoping that he won't have to explain that they actually did die. It's miserable. He knew a lot of the florist staff by name, knew what some of their lives were like, and a lot of them probably assumed he had a lush apartment.
It's not lush. He knows it, his sisters knows it, and now a stranger calling himself Figaro knows it.
His attention is fixed back on Figaro as he hopes against all hope that the staff of Eversummer Florist won't ask him questions about his...
...friend.]
A succulent? [That's a new suggestion.] I never tried growing one. They always seemed so...
I think they're pretty hard to kill, for the most part! Maybe don't overwater it? They'd probably do better if you forget to water than if you give too much.
[Desert plant, and all that. Drought tolerant but much less tolerant of damp, rot-prone conditions.]
Ah, but that's also why we have lovely Miss Vaska to help us, isn't it? She's an expert!
[Probably. You'd have to at least have some knowledge if they're your main product, right? Surely she's sold plants to black thumbs in the past and managed to match them up with something that they can't kill. At the very least, she'd know which plants can survive a month-long course of neglect.]
[He flinches as Figaro acknowledges the presence of Miss Vaska. She blushes, a little, and slides a glance at Gepard, one which asks without asking who is this? He pretends like he doesn't see it.
Vaska fixes Figaro with a big smile. "Of course! Florist Vaska, happy to help." She then starts to go on an unskippable two minute cutscene, talking about her flowers, and the various products, and the colors and meanings and-]
Sorry for the trouble.
[It's no trouble at all, apparently, which is...odd because he knows that she reads while on the job, and they're keeping her from her fiction, and she also tries not to let him know what she's reading because the books are, technically, banned, but Gepard knows and also has looked into the series, and she keeps on looking at him and looking at Figaro, and looking back at him again-
This is going somewhere. He can tell she's getting ideas and so he reaches for a succulent, a plain one that looks sturdy.] How about this one?
[Sampo listens politely throughout Vaska's unskippable two minute cutscene about flowers and plants, mostly because it's an unskippable cutscene and he knows his part in it. He's there to be Gepard's mysterious new friend for Vaska to later gossip about to her friends, spreading a rumor about how the good Captain has a new "friend". Sampo can't wait to hear them through the Belobog equivalent of the grapevine.]
[Gepard starts getting a little restless, though-- maybe starting to see what Vaska's attention means-- and just picks out a succulent, apparently based only on appearance alone. A little barrel cactus, a squat little thing and kind of cute for it.]
Well, those are supposed to be easy to grow! So it's probably a good choice, right?
[Vaska seems to agree. And, anyway, the sooner she gets her sale made, the sooner she can gossip or get back to her reading, two things that are probably far more enjoyable than selling prickly plants.]
[She chirps out something agreeing, yeah, something cheerful and upbeat, and fixes Gepard with a too-bright stare, and Gepard really kind of wants to squirm and why did he think this was a good idea - heading out with some guy he doesn't even know, a criminal who assaulted countless people because of his unique dietary requirements, and-]
I probably shouldn't overthink it, you're right. [What that stare means or the cactus, Figaro can take his pick.] I'll take it.
[It's overpriced for a cactus, not that Gepard knows it, but that's what happens when you're from a snowy iceball.]
[Gepard buys himself a cactus and Vaska packs it up for him in a weather-proof container so that it'll survive the journey home through the cold Belobog weather. Congratulations, you're the proud father of a spiky desert plant while living on an iceball.]
[Surely this can't go wrong, right?]
[Vaska very cheerfully waves them off when they leave, and Sampo hooks his arm through Gepard's again and waves back at her because he's a little shit.]
I think you're going to have good luck with this one! [If 'good luck' has blue hair and calls itself Figaro. Sampo is absolutely going to have to save this poor cactus from being drowned, he can already tell.]
[He's carrying the cactus like it's important, which, it is, ever so slightly leaning into Figaro's grasp without realizing he's doing so because he's a bit preoccupied. Furthermore, even if he's not...
Interested, like that, Figaro is (unfortunately) tall and warm and nice to lean against, and so Gepard does so like he's a preoccupied cat, staring at his cactus.]
[When Figaro says Leo, Gepard gives it consideration. He makes a thoughtful noise. He examines the cactus, asking himself if it looks like a Leo.
When Figaro says Theo, Gepard stiffens, because sometimes? Sometimes you come up with a good name, and it ends in an o, and that doesn't mean anything. Coincidences happen. Two names, though? Less coincidental. He tries to not react to Figaro, fails when he's bludgeoned by Antonio and Romeo, and he just stares for a moment. Just stares.]
I'm not naming a plant after you. [Bad enough he'll think of Figaro every single time he looks at the cactus.] I'm sure you've used all of those names some time or another.
Maybe, maybe not! No hints for our game, that would be cheating.
[He’s not going to tell you what aliases he’s used, Gepard, you have to figure that out yourself! Otherwise it ruins the game, and Sampo is invested in how well Gepard does. How smart of a boy is Belobog’s favorite Captain?]
I suppose you could name it something else, though. What kind of names does the Captain like? There must be something that you think is cute.
[Cute is what’s important. If the name is cute, than Gepard might be guilted into keeping it alive longer.]
Cosmo. [He says this with all the confidence of an edict from the Supreme Guardian, gazing at the stupid cactus like he's two seconds away from ordering it to not die.]
It's a good name and you've likely used it as an alias at some point. [He also says this with all the confidence of a Supreme Guardian ordering her men into battle.] And thanks to you, I'm having problems thinking of something that doesn't end in an o.
Will you take better care of it if it's named after me?
[What a cute sentiment, Gepard. Sampo's very amused, because the good Captain could have picked literally any other name if he wanted something that wouldn't remind him of his blood-sucking acquaintance-- or, if he was feeling vindictive, he could've named it something less flattering, like Leech. Mosquito. Do they have mosquitos on Jarilo-VI?]
[Anyway, he's flattered. Pleased as a cat that stuck its paw in your milk.]
[Up the stairs they go, to Gepard's apartment, the newly christened Cosmo in hand.]
Cosmo is a good name! If I never used if before, I wouldn't be able to now, though. It would be too obvious, wouldn't it?
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[Sampo will have to think of what he’d want from the good Captain for his victory prize, too. Money? The key to the vault in Qlipoth Fort? A priceless relic from the Museum? A kiss, if he was feeling cheeky about the whole thing. He’d expect one on the hand, like how a gentleman would. Maybe the cheek.]
That’s the spirit! It’s just a friendly game with your pal. We’re just having fun!
[It’s all fun and games, nothing to worry about.]
I’m glad that the Captain has such an easygoing outlook on losing. I thought you might be more competitive.
Anyway! You should eat up so that we can get those plants for you and get them all settled in.
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You're right. [He should absolutely wolf down the food, and Gepard turns his attention to doing just that- well, he tries to, there's a few moments in which he has to close his eyes and savor the taste, or look up at Figaro - blue eyes wide and astonished-]
This is really good? [And also-] Where did you get this...?
[As if he should be surprised at this point, and times in which he's caught up in-
...well, anyway. Gepard finishes his plate and winces, as he remembers the plates from the night before-] I'm really sorry about not cleaning up and leaving that for you...
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[But as far as things that are happening right now goes, Gepard seems to be enjoying his breakfast quite a lot, especially because it isn't anything all that special.]
The bread? [It's a nice, crunchy sourdough that goes well with the eggs and bacon. The eggs and bacon themselves are just standard Belobog fare.] There's a bakery that isn't too far from my apartment. They make some nice bread in the morning... or, well, I assume it's nice.
[Because he can't taste it. Sampo really misses carbs.]
Oh, it's fine. Gave me something to do. And I don't really do that kind of thing much anymore, so it's, like, kind of a novelty?
[A guy doesn't really have to do dishes when all of his meals either come out of someone's neck or from a blood bag. So doing dishes is sort of a brief trip into normalcy, which is kind of nice when your life has taken a hard left turn into a vampire novel.]
But don't expect me to be so nice all of the time! If I keep having to do your chores, it'll cost you.
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(He still feels special.)
Gepard can laugh as Figaro brings up a cost, though. A cost would make things feel more...normal. A cost would tilt them back towards- friendly acquaintances, maybe friends at some point, some day, better not overthink it. Gepard can smile, because he's not a businessman, he's a guard, but he understands transactions and deals. This is just another deal. That's all. A deal with a mysterious man with a nice smile and green eyes, who challenged him to figure out his name, and Gepard needs to figure out if he wants to win or take his chances with a loss.
But he can do that later, when he's on the front lines, with nothing better to think about.]
I'll try not to end up too far into your debt, I promise. [He can at least gather the dishes. And leave them in the sink. He'll wash them later. There's no problems here- oh.]
There won't be any problems with people recognizing you, will there? Our games aside, it would be...complicated if someone recognizes you as a mugger or a thief, to say the least.
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[There's the question of his identity, and Sampo just laughs him off and hooks an arm through Gepard's, guiding him towards the door.]
Don't worry about it! I'm usually in disguise when I'm up here on the surface for business, and you're the only one who's seen my face when I've gone out... looking for dinner, let's say.
[His condition necessitates some precautions when it comes to his business dealings. There are plenty of money-making opportunities that he's had to pass on or approach in a much more cautious manner than he might have if he didn't have such a big secret to keep. He wants as little heat as possible on the Sampo Koski name, wants to avoid interactions with the Silvermane guard as much as he can. So-- different disguises, different aliases, faces and names that can be easily discarded if anyone starts getting suspicious.]
I think we'll be fine for a little shopping trip!
[Really, it's risky that Gepard knows his real face, even if he doesn't know his real name. But that cat's already out of the bag, there's no putting it back in again.]
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He leans into Sampo's arm, his touch, ever so slightly. Just ever so slightly, because he can't indulge himself that much, but there's a small handful of people who'd touch him like this, and he's related to most of them, and is it bad to indulge? Just a little?
It probably is, but he's off for the next day or two. He can indulge a little. Right? Maybe not, but what's done is done.]
If you say so. [But he lets himself be guided to his door. Doesn't resist at all, really.] But if we're seen- that's fine, but what should I tell people if they ask me about you afterwards? There's no sense in-
[Why does it feel like he's doing something illegal. Immoral. Gepard makes a face, like he swallowed something vaguely unpleasant and is dealing with the aftertaste, and that 'something vaguely unpleasant' is considering what he's getting into in a new and more horrible way.]
-not agreeing on the details ahead of time. Just a friend, or...?
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[Really, there are a lot of things that he'd hate more than being touched by a handsome blond.]
Just a friend, that works. You do have those, right?
[He must. Gepard's a regular adult man, he must have at least a few people that he'd call friends. People that he'd go out with, someone he'd share a beer with after work or whatever it is that strapping guardsmen do on their downtime.]
Don't overthink it, I doubt anyone will even give you a second glance. We're just two normal people doing normal things!
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You're right.
[He's overthinking this! And out they go, Gepard pausing to-]
How do you get inside, anyway?
[Lock his door, because, well. Why wouldn't he?]
Don't answer that- I already know you wouldn't tell the truth. If I knew about it, I could stop it. [Not that he would, but...]
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[He doesn't need a key. Gepard could give him one if it would make him feel better, but Sampo rarely enters through the door anyway. But if the good Captain would like to think that he's getting into his house in a relatively normal fashion, that's his prerogative.]
[They step out into the normal chill of a Belobogian morning, arm in arm. Just two friends having a little stroll, nothing for anyone to take notice of.]
You live pretty close to the florist's. Was that on purpose?
[It would be very cute if the Captain lived close to the florist's because of his cute hobby. Even if he's objectively bad at it, it's endearing that he's so dedicated to its pursuit.]
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And he wants to say, hey. Figaro. There's a difference between entering through a window and entering through a door, and the more he acts like he belongs, the more questions people will have for him, but then Figaro asks about the florist and Gepard just shuts up for a long moment.]
Not...exactly. [It's said very carefully. (Or to put it another way, yes, it was on purpose and he tried justifying it after the fact.)] I was in a hurry to move out and this was the best apartment that I could find that was in my budget. The fact it is near the florist is only a bonus.
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[They stroll towards the shop. Sampo absolutely acts as though he belongs there, as though coming out of Gepard's apartment in the morning is nothing new, as though the two of them walking together is the most normal thing in the world. If any intelligence officers catch wind of the dark-haired stranger that's gotten all chummy with their Captain, well, then that's Gepard's problem, isn't it? But he's a smart man, he must be able to deal with a few inquisitive women. He goes out and punches Fragmentum monsters in the face on a regular basis, how could handling Pela or Serval be any worse than that?]
Lucky, then. And they must pay Captains better than I expected if you can afford a nice place this close to the Administrative District.
[The apartments and houses there are, of course, pricier than the residential areas further out from the city center. That's why Sampo had to get his Overworld safe house in one of the... less nice areas of town.]
Any thoughts on what you want to try your hand at this time? [What poor plant does he want to butcher?] I'm a rose kind of guy, myself, but that probably wouldn't fit on your windowsill.
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But Figaro says he likes roses, and Gepard perks up like he's a puppy that was just offered a treat. His eyes slightly widen, his lips curl up in a small, shy smile that he really ought to smother, but it can linger for a moment, Figaro can see.]
I like roses. But you're right... [He can admit it.] ...even if I didn't kill it, my windowsill would be a bad place for a rose bush. I feel like I should get something sturdy, or, barring that...
[...fine.] Cheap. I keep on telling myself that I should be happy with the florist simply being close to where I live. Even if I can't keep a plant alive, it's nice seeing them as I go back and forth from work, and a bouquet lasts long enough until I inevitably go back to the front lines again. [That is to say, a handful of days.] But I always find myself buying a new plant when I'm back in Belobog. I tell myself that this time, it will work out.
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[Gepard Landau cannot possibly be a greater ecological disaster than the Eternal Freeze. It's just not possible, he might be a force of nature but he's not an apocalypse. They just haven't found the right indestructible plant yet.]
[The bell above the door jingles as they walk into Eversummer Florist. The woman behind the counter greets Gepard, obviously recognizing him, and seems politely confused about the fact that he has someone with him, but doesn't comment on it. Sampo just gives her a jaunty little wave.]
What about a succulent? They're pretty hardy, and I think some of them are okay with cold weather.
[Maybe not Belobog-cold weather, but there are varieties that should at least be able to stay alive even if they're near a cold window. And some of them even bloom if they're really well taken care of, so that would be a rewarding thing for Gepard. Finally getting a plant happy enough to give him a flower.]
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It's not lush. He knows it, his sisters knows it, and now a stranger calling himself Figaro knows it.
His attention is fixed back on Figaro as he hopes against all hope that the staff of Eversummer Florist won't ask him questions about his...
...friend.]
A succulent? [That's a new suggestion.] I never tried growing one. They always seemed so...
[What's a good word for it.] Delicate.
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[Desert plant, and all that. Drought tolerant but much less tolerant of damp, rot-prone conditions.]
Ah, but that's also why we have lovely Miss Vaska to help us, isn't it? She's an expert!
[Probably. You'd have to at least have some knowledge if they're your main product, right? Surely she's sold plants to black thumbs in the past and managed to match them up with something that they can't kill. At the very least, she'd know which plants can survive a month-long course of neglect.]
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Vaska fixes Figaro with a big smile. "Of course! Florist Vaska, happy to help." She then starts to go on an unskippable two minute cutscene, talking about her flowers, and the various products, and the colors and meanings and-]
Sorry for the trouble.
[It's no trouble at all, apparently, which is...odd because he knows that she reads while on the job, and they're keeping her from her fiction, and she also tries not to let him know what she's reading because the books are, technically, banned, but Gepard knows and also has looked into the series, and she keeps on looking at him and looking at Figaro, and looking back at him again-
This is going somewhere. He can tell she's getting ideas and so he reaches for a succulent, a plain one that looks sturdy.] How about this one?
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[Gepard starts getting a little restless, though-- maybe starting to see what Vaska's attention means-- and just picks out a succulent, apparently based only on appearance alone. A little barrel cactus, a squat little thing and kind of cute for it.]
Well, those are supposed to be easy to grow! So it's probably a good choice, right?
[Vaska seems to agree. And, anyway, the sooner she gets her sale made, the sooner she can gossip or get back to her reading, two things that are probably far more enjoyable than selling prickly plants.]
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I probably shouldn't overthink it, you're right. [What that stare means or the cactus, Figaro can take his pick.] I'll take it.
[It's overpriced for a cactus, not that Gepard knows it, but that's what happens when you're from a snowy iceball.]
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[Surely this can't go wrong, right?]
[Vaska very cheerfully waves them off when they leave, and Sampo hooks his arm through Gepard's again and waves back at her because he's a little shit.]
I think you're going to have good luck with this one! [If 'good luck' has blue hair and calls itself Figaro. Sampo is absolutely going to have to save this poor cactus from being drowned, he can already tell.]
You should give it a name.
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Interested, like that, Figaro is (unfortunately) tall and warm and nice to lean against, and so Gepard does so like he's a preoccupied cat, staring at his cactus.]
What sort of name? [Would it end in an -o...]
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[Suggestion time. What names would make Gepard roll his eyes the hardest? It’s like a game, and the prize is exasperation.]
Leo? Theo? Antonio? Maybe Romeo?
[More ooo’s. You can never escape the Ooo, not while Sampo is around.]
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When Figaro says Theo, Gepard stiffens, because sometimes? Sometimes you come up with a good name, and it ends in an o, and that doesn't mean anything. Coincidences happen. Two names, though? Less coincidental. He tries to not react to Figaro, fails when he's bludgeoned by Antonio and Romeo, and he just stares for a moment. Just stares.]
I'm not naming a plant after you. [Bad enough he'll think of Figaro every single time he looks at the cactus.] I'm sure you've used all of those names some time or another.
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[He’s not going to tell you what aliases he’s used, Gepard, you have to figure that out yourself! Otherwise it ruins the game, and Sampo is invested in how well Gepard does. How smart of a boy is Belobog’s favorite Captain?]
I suppose you could name it something else, though. What kind of names does the Captain like? There must be something that you think is cute.
[Cute is what’s important. If the name is cute, than Gepard might be guilted into keeping it alive longer.]
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It's a good name and you've likely used it as an alias at some point. [He also says this with all the confidence of a Supreme Guardian ordering her men into battle.] And thanks to you, I'm having problems thinking of something that doesn't end in an o.
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[What a cute sentiment, Gepard. Sampo's very amused, because the good Captain could have picked literally any other name if he wanted something that wouldn't remind him of his blood-sucking acquaintance-- or, if he was feeling vindictive, he could've named it something less flattering, like Leech. Mosquito. Do they have mosquitos on Jarilo-VI?]
[Anyway, he's flattered. Pleased as a cat that stuck its paw in your milk.]
[Up the stairs they go, to Gepard's apartment, the newly christened Cosmo in hand.]
Cosmo is a good name! If I never used if before, I wouldn't be able to now, though. It would be too obvious, wouldn't it?
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