[ He thought he would've been punched by now; Aether really is diplomatic and self-controlled, no wonder his higher-ups picked him to try and keep the leash on Alhaitham short. ]
Gentle?
[ He asks and there's something in his eyes similar to amusement. ]
That's surprising. I heard the Viator can take anything, no matter size and power.
[ If it's an innuendo or a threat, it's impossible to tell considering his expression stays placid, not even a wave in that cerulean sea.
His long fingers do slip under Aether's jacket though and pull his gun out of its holster. He weighs it on his palm --ah, it's loaded-- before he wraps that around the stock and it's really too small for his hand, but he supposes that makes it perfect for Aether's. It obviously bears a small caliber too, but it's the kind that can make a neat, minute hole where it matters if the one who shoots is precise enough or close enough --and Alhaitham is sure that Aether can manage both things.
He slides it back into the young man's harness without a word, before he grabs his hand and mimicks the assassin's motions from earlier: he has it slide down his skintight tee along his abs, before he steers it to the side, his pants' pocket, right by Aether's inner thigh. The shape hidden in the fabric is more difficult to tell, but surely someone with as much experience as the mighty Viator will be able to recognize a switchblade. ]
no subject
Gentle?
[ He asks and there's something in his eyes similar to amusement. ]
That's surprising. I heard the Viator can take anything, no matter size and power.
[ If it's an innuendo or a threat, it's impossible to tell considering his expression stays placid, not even a wave in that cerulean sea.
His long fingers do slip under Aether's jacket though and pull his gun out of its holster. He weighs it on his palm --ah, it's loaded-- before he wraps that around the stock and it's really too small for his hand, but he supposes that makes it perfect for Aether's. It obviously bears a small caliber too, but it's the kind that can make a neat, minute hole where it matters if the one who shoots is precise enough or close enough --and Alhaitham is sure that Aether can manage both things.
He slides it back into the young man's harness without a word, before he grabs his hand and mimicks the assassin's motions from earlier: he has it slide down his skintight tee along his abs, before he steers it to the side, his pants' pocket, right by Aether's inner thigh. The shape hidden in the fabric is more difficult to tell, but surely someone with as much experience as the mighty Viator will be able to recognize a switchblade. ]