You're Going to be a Pain (Request to Join; Duke & Duchess - E)

Marc sighed, shaking his head at the other boy, "Sure you did, crackpot."

"So," Bentley started, sliding under the surface of the water once more, letting the surface settle out before bursting forth again. "When do we go about starting missions?"

Marc rolled his eyes, "We just met there, tiger, take me out to dinner before you go making any moves."

"And what's a nice dinner for you, hm?" Bentley shifted lazily to his back, legs oscillating slowly to propel him in slow circles around Marc. "Steak and wine? Beef bourguignon? I'm personally a fan of the endless spaghetti at Fazeli's myself."

Marc snorted, shaking his head, "I can go for anything short of ketchup-smeared grease." He said, diving under for a moment before rising and tossing his hair back, out of his face.

Bentley pedaled backwards, pulling himself up to rest against the pool's edge. "I'm as big a fan of fine cuisine as anyone, but I don't have much reason to pursue it. I live alone and dining alone like that tends to garner weird looks...though I have managed to get a couple free steaks by pretending that I was stood up."

Marc rolled his eyes, moving to splash the other man. "You would, wouldn't you?" His eyes scanned him quickly, a curious look on his face, "And who would believe that you were stood up, huh?"

Bentley paused for a moment, eyes shifting unsteadily. "Anyone who has talked to me for more than twenty minutes," he suggested sheepishly, a pale red glow flooding his cheeks. "I've been described as overly-energetic, obnoxious, and borderline-ADHD...that's unconfirmed, so it's up in the air."

Marc waved a hand dismissively, "I have a younger sister and attend a school that ranges from pre-pubescence to early twenties. None of your behavior suggests anything short of free-spirited." A shrug followed, and he dove underwater for a few moments, popping back up to toss back his hair.

"Yeah, well this 'free spirit' tends to bump shoulders with people a bit much," the meister admitted, sweeping the drooping gray hair from his eyes. "I like things! And people! Just...more than they like me, it seems." He laughed softly, pushing upwards to sit at the pool's edge. "That didn't answer my question, though. When do we begin missions?"

"The mission's board, typically." Marc responded, his mirth seeming to dissipate as he shrugged, "That's generally the best bet. Elsewise, it's much too like a video game --- rumors and strangely placed clues."

Bentley nodded, mumbling to himself. "I'll keep an eye out for anything that may catch interest, but I'll be waiting for your green light to proceed. Obviously, I'm not suited for more than a living pin cushion without my weapon."

The kusari-gama laughed lightly, a chuckle that seemed almost bland in comparison to the man the drew it out, "Perhaps. You do have a stockpile of cunning to you, though."

"I'm always eager to drum up new and exciting ways to make people put up with my bullshit," Bentley admitted, eyes lighting up as he rocked back and forth at the edge of the tile. "My sister and I always had a thing for practical jokes, so it's an old habit that is a bit stubborn in dying."

"Aren't they all?" Marc asked, shifting himself so that he was floating lazily on his back. "How old is your sister?"

"Fifteen and eleven twelfths," Bentley sighed, squinting to look at the calendar tucked between two boxes of pool equipment. "I'll have to go see her next month for her sweet sixteenth..."

Both of Marc's brows rose at this, his expression seeming almost concerned. "That's a big one." He stated simply, bluntly, obviously. "Do you have any specific plans?"

"Big ones," Bentley admitted, his legs slowing to a stir in the water. "I'm flying to New York and I'm bringing her back here with me."

Both brows raised once more, and he righted himself, looking at Bentley questioningly. "Does she know where you're at?"

"No," Bentley mumbled, face reddening as his eyes fell flat to his lap. "I didn't want her looking for me while I was still in the early phases of the academy. There was little I could do for her without a partner and even now, it won't be easy. But it will be possible."

"And what will she do when she's here?" He asked, shaking his head, "Is she a meister? A weapon? Or do you intend on her staying in a hotel or living in the main city?"

"I'm winging it," the meister offered simply, leaning to tug a towel from the bin. "Like a wild eagle. Or a goose. Hopefully, the former. I can bring her in with me, but I know little to nothing in regards to her capabilities as a weapon or meister."

"Let's hope you turn out more like the ugly duckling than Gaston." the weapon stated, taking the queue to step out of the pool, trunks plastered to his skin, and proceed to dry out his hair.

"I know that whole song," Bentley murmured breathlessly, his muscles tensing in the characteristic manner of one who has to physical restrain himself from doing something he knows he shouldn't. "Yeah, well...I have a body rumored to be sculpted by Michelangelo himself, so I'm halfway there."

Marc laughed, though the way he paused following it was enough to draw the other man's attention to him. Doing so would also clearly allow him to notice the way the weapon's eyes were appraising him, a satisfied smirk appearing on his face before he continued on drying himself like nothing had happened. "I suppose as much."