triboelectric effect
Lora's the type of person, Minoth quickly discovers, who sticks on your bones like a good meal. Who gets in there at the cracks, teases out the meaning, and slots herself in underneath. And oh, boy, she doesn't like letting go.
Minoth? He begs questions, craftily consults, takes his piece and withdraws. Lora sort of gets the feeling, from him, that she's being watched. Studied. He's fascinated as much as he is fascinating. She's not sure what to make of him - but, she will make!
(Oh, indeed - give it some oomph! And let's get this over with.)
Take her asthmatic bout in the sand gardens. No one else had been willing to question Minoth's absence, outwardly. Useless is as useless does, if it has to be anything at all. Just another quirk from the rogue operator. And they get the feeling that they're being watched, et cetera.
But Lora wants an explanation, wants reparations, and she gets them. Minoth's not above questioning. Amalthus, was it? Didn't think...
("It's fine. I'm a coward, I admit it."
"Well, let's have it one way or the other. Are we sympathetic, or not?"
Minoth looks to Addam, frowning with a passion. Sure, we're sympathetic.
"Just like Addam, I suppose," Lora nods, no sigh in sight. "Always too hard on yourself. But it's sorted easily enough, right? If Amalthus is around, you'll hang back. I'm sure we'll be able to fill you in."
She claps her hands, decisive and even a little bit cheered.
Oh, is that all? Just like that, protecting me?)
And then, from that moment, she resolves to be one of Minoth's very favorite people, instead of just better than least.
Asks his opinion on things, instead of just wondering at it, sidewise, speculative. Drags him into arm-wrestling contests even when they weren't involving him, to begin with. Enlists him as a fellow vociferous sufferer when the dinner's not got enough meat.
(Perhaps Jin hadn't wanted to prepare it, that evening. Perhaps Aegaeon was concerned of a food poisoning risk. But if they're out of provisions completely, Lora enlists Minoth to go carve up a Feris with her - maybe a Volff. Ooh, or even Rhogul! Crispy pan-fried breading, her favorite.)
Lora doesn't just pass by someone, in life; she passes through them. As they pass through her. Her neuroses - understandable, really - keep her from battening up too close to any one soul they meet, but she's always invigorated to counsel and to reassure.
What a wonderful thing. What a beautiful thing.
Addam wants to be a farmer and Lora wants to start an orphanage and Minoth just wants to lie in a pile of straw with her reading novels and talking nonsense, because she never got to, now did she? And neither did he.
They'd get hay in their hair, grass in their pants, bugs down the inside of her boots. The first time Minoth watched her recoil at the sight of something slithering, he'd kept his peace. Now it's an exciting adventure, to see just what Lora's picked up now for her entymologist friend.
So expressive, she is. Reactive to everything, smiling or frowning or quizzically making fun. She's up on her toes and she's bending to her knees. Lora, Lora, Lora. Sometimes Minoth wishes there were a little more of her in him, somehow. A little more spring, a little more bounce. A little more Spiral Snare, a little less spiraling.
(Not that Lora isn't prone to spiraling, too. And winding herself up as she loops through her braid.)
Maybe the usual thought is that there'll be time for everything later, when all this is through. That feelings can wait for facts to get laid, and Torna has to escape the shadow of the Aegis before its inhabitants can remember that they are, in fact, people. If not its inhabitants, then just its saviors, at least,
The orphanage. The kids. Of course she's right - the kids! Maybe the point of it isn't just "the refugee camps but better" but that they can be better, that that's what Minoth can do to follow on from them. Kids, one at a time, raised in roominess, all with their own hay-baling nonsense to boot.
She discusses with Jin about the children, conspires with Haze about the children, muses with Mythra about the children. Addam could (and probably will) bankroll her, or possibly Hugo if the lady knight were feeling bold, but that's really not Lora's principal concern, after all. No, it's the people involved. The process. The memories.
("And I've gained friends I'm never going to forget.")
Teeco, Joey, Freja, Benny, Marcus. Everyone she meets makes such a lasting impression on her, one she cherishes absolutely. Obviously Minoth can't think of anyone better suited to just stop and take care.
Now, Minoth hadn't exactly been privy to their conversation. Lora had gathered Jin and Haze aside verbally, instead of just waiting for the others to filter off and her family, close and tight, to gather around her, as they always did.
It's here that he sort of feels he's become a scab; leaching onto Lora just as he's done every other mercenary group, except that, well, he likes Lora a fair bit more.
If this is her way, then might it not just be a side effect, that she deems Minoth a worthy companion, and a boon one at that? Maybe he's been overestimating how gracious she's been. Maybe that's all he's always done.
But even if so...
What Lora wants, Lora gets. Isn't that always how it goes?