A Linguist's Studies (Request to join; T for caution... oh and Teen)

She dropped her own hands upon noticing his tension, clasping over the tightened fists. "He's here, with you, Harrison. I'm no genius, but that means something." The words were gentle, patient, if not awkward and unsure.

He shifted his face upwards, blinking back the storm clouds waiting behind weary eyes. A shaken breath brought his focus to the faint trembling rolling over his muscles, holding him in place. He lifted a hand quietly, wiping the streaks away from his cheeks. "He's here in body, yeah. I believe he only came after me because he didn't know of anywhere else to go."

She lifted herself slightly, shifting her seating onto her legs as she leaned forward, meeting his gaze and doing her damnedest to hold his own in place. "He hasn't left, now, has he? You put so little faith in someone you look up to so much."

The laughter that escaped him was soaked in incredulity. "Look up to him? How? He's abrasive, he's reckless, he's entirely insensitive to the people around him, and..." He trailed off, his lip catching against chattering teeth. "...and he's my brother. I don't expect to live our lives seamlessly, but I want to iron this seam out once and for all and he is intent on letting that wound fester..."

"As are you, if you don't keep calmer," she lifted a hand to his cheek, eyes narrowed in scolding though the blue depths were soft and serene. "He's head strong and you're level-headed. It would take an act of Lord Death himself to get you two fully agreeable, but is it not still worth it to try?"

The meister mumbled incoherently under his breath, but he forced a nod. "As pigheaded as he is, I can't let him wander about on his own. Left to his own devices, he'll track blood all over the house...or worse, glitter."

Evelyn snorted at this, shaking her head in response, "Why would glitter be involved?" She inquired, letting the topic alter the mood to a more light-hearted insistance.

"Perhaps I'm extending beyond my reach," Harrison insisted, grinning slightly as he figuratively and literally backed out of the conversation, slumping into the oiled desk chair behind him. "He has taken to a particularly feisty bar matron and its its effects are...noticeable."

A laugh followed, and Eve shook her head, proceeding to coat the wound in ointment, "Rosaline Natalia Varley, owner and proprietor of The Rose Garden, a bar and strip club just outside the city frequented by all manner of guests --- so long as they behave." She raised a brow as she looked at him, smirking. "Am I wrong?"

Harrison blanched, the colour leaving his face so rapidly that he could almost feel the warmth of blood descending into his torso. "That would be, ah...quite correct." He eyed the floor nervously, one hand raising to run gingerly along the exposed wound. He winced slightly, tenderly tracing the jagged separation of flesh as he raised his gaze back to her. "Mention this to him and he'll stuff that fire stick of his somewhere you can't bandage."

She snorted at this, eyes rolling, "Rose will tear him apart soon enough, if he doesn't do so to her, I'm sure." A brow raised, clear evidence that she was more than merely acquainted with the woman. "Such is her way, and by the looks of him, his as well." Factors beyond the stripper's usual game seemed foreign, in this instance, things not to be applied as there was no reason for doing so.

Who was she to think the two would fall in love?

Elsewise, she shrugged, batting his hand away and working to bandage the wound and, hopefully, prevent it further exposure. "You're going to make it worse. Stop that."

"Worse than a witch carving me up and my halfwit brother giving me a spur-of-the-moment cauterization?" Harrison scoffed, relenting to her command nonetheless. "That would seriously screw me over, wouldn't it?" He let his hands settle to the crinkled parchments before him, fingers running over the dusty surface of the unfurled charts strewn across the polished oak of his desk. "Have you glossed over that book I loaned you at all?"

"Loaned?" She teased, forbidding her eyes from scanning his torso as they drifted, instead to his hands, then back to his face. "I have, actually. I nearly forgot to make dinner because I wouldn't put it down." A hint of embarrassment coated her face, reddening her cheeks just the slightest hint. "It's no wonder it's your favorite."

The meister's lips slid into an easy grin, his hands curling into fists as fingers danced in restrained excitement. "There's no shame to be had in enjoying your reading. My mother used to confiscate my books rather than my technology, growing up. It was a rare occasion, but it happened. I usually responded by stealing books from Ezra's room...Lord knows he wasn't using them."

She snorted at that, shaking her head and giving him a knowing, if slightly mocking, look. "Were you the homebody while he got his hands dirty?"

"I was plenty dirty," Harrison shot, snorting and mumbling a low curse when he caught the secondary meaning to his words. "I was as well-adjusted as any other kid out there. Books bring knowledge, though. And understanding. Knowledge and understanding may not be critical, seeing as I've met plenty of people lacking both that seem to live their lives without succumbing to the urge to stick their forks in the nearest wall outlet...but having them makes the world so much more enjoyable. Brighter, louder..." His eyes trailed to Evelyn, lingering quietly at her lips. "...more beautiful."

Her own eyes had glided back to the fidgeting of his fingertips before he had spoken, and her lips parted just slightly in quiet contemplation as she noticed their gesturings still. Looking back over at him, she caught his gaze, though she knew not what held it, blushing despite herself and not quite understanding why.

The meister plucked a worn pencil from the overflowing cup at the table's edge, spinning it easily between his fingers. He was often found wanting in regards to flirtating, but even he had caught the lingering in his tone, though not before the rebellious advances had passed his lips. Spin, spin, spin, catch. Spin, spin, spin, catch. It took little effort to pass the pencil between his fingers, but it required the modicum of effort necessary to pull his mind away from his own missteps. He offered a crooked grin in place of the words caught in his chest.

She mimicked the expression, to a fault, her own leaning more towards a smirk than a mere grin. Slowly, her brow raised, as if to challenge him. Her stature and positioning changed, both arms folded beneath her breasts, hip pressed against the rim of the desk, legs slanted as they crossed, braced against the floor as she half-stood, leaning more towards the furniture for support.

'Well?' her eyes said.

He exhaled indignantly, leaning back to cross his arms over his chest. "I can't tell if you're fishing for more from me," the meister admitted, eyes tracing the lines of her figure with little in the way of secrecy. "Yes, you are lumped into my immediate thoughts when I refer to the various beauties the world can offer. Your investment in intellectual pursuits doesn't help that."

The smirk widened, taking on both sides of her lips as she watched him, eyes dancing. "And do you intend on doing anything about that?" She inquired, well enough within her element so long as things remained at surface level --- matters of the heart left her more than a little stunted in way of responses.

Harrison eased himself to a standing position, leaning across the table to hover close enough to her face that his breath tickled her cheeks. "Well, some sort of 'thank you' is in order for your willingness to come stitch me up, yeah?"

Her brow raised once more, higher, the smirk twitching slightly into a grin, "I do suppose that it is."

The curl of his lips turned upwards a shade more as he leaned back, tapping one finger against her forehead. "I can do cash, credit, and checks," he murmured with a slight smirk, letting his finger trail down her cheek to rest under her chin, tipping it up slightly. "Though gratitude is a currency offered in many different forms, isn't it?" The meister's eyes had cooled to embers, the soft brown of his irises glazed over with the glare of the nearby fire as they looked over her, hand resting just under her jaw.

Blue met brown as he studied, her chin tilting up at the slightest urging of his touch. Lip quirking on the side with the tainting of a smirk, she raised a brow, daring, challenging him to elaborate.