Finders Keepers

There was a little bit of actual gameplay tie-in research done here, but not too much - anticipate at your own risk :).

The party spent fair through a week in the desolate Dannagh Desert, pacing themselves and their water intake. Well, it wasn't the absolute most desolate place imaginable, given even just the sheer beauty of it all (Turquos Plateau, anyone?), but still, with nary a trace of true greenery nor human vestige to be summarily spotted, the sand could stretch on and on nigh unrelentingly without so much as trying.

The resulting fatigue was such that one afternoon, in the greatest heat imaginable, when Minoth spied the telltale hump of buried treasure poking through the ground up a ways from the blessed shade of the Streamsand Corridor, not a one of them would trudge up there with him; he had to practically drag Addam by the myriad conveniently placed nonsensical armor plates.

Addam was grumpy, of course - or rather, not of course, but Minoth was the one person who could make him so, with a frightening level of consistency, and so it couldn't be helped. "What's got you so excited about this supposed buried treasure of yours, anyway?" he groused, feeling almost doubly as grumpy just for the mere fact that Minoth had gotten him so out of sorts so quickly.

"I'm not excited so much as opportunistic. You learn a lot from salvagers here and there. You know they're even talking about making up a code, now? Fascinating stuff." Re-righting his head from where he'd tilted it back to gaze up at the sun (don't ask why, he probably didn't know), Addam rejoined, reluctantly.

"Is that so? Don't repeat it to me, if you don't mind." Minoth nodded far too agreeably for the haze of the day. "Neither minding nor mattering. Got it. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

For all his bravado, Minoth didn't seem to actually have much point in bringing Addam along, as he swiftly set to digging the chest out himself with expert daggers. (Their flat blades helped how, exactly? It was a mystery to all but the most sardonic member of their group.) Addam? Why, he just stood back and watched.

It was an advantageous position: the Flesh Eater had wanted to keep his gloves on, it seemed, but even he needed to fall prey to the heat and strain eventually, so off came the gloves, followed by the jacket.

Very nice shoulders, very nice back, very nice arms, very nice...it almost rhymed, but Addam stopped his musings nonetheless. See, that was the trouble. He'd like nothing more than to just get along with Minoth like they'd used to do, only arguing when it got to truly serious matters and being perfectly companionable when it came to all the rest, but somehow that didn't seem to work anymore.

Was it the flirting? Ah, damn. It was probably the flirting. And speak of the digging devil...

"Listen, Prince, I know you're enjoying the view from back there," Minoth called back at him with truly annoying prescience, "but I'm only so strong. You gonna help me pull this out?" "Oh, well, if you didn't ask, I'd never have thought you wanted help." It was only the truth, wasn't it? Very independent-minded, this Blade of his was. His? Well...maybe.

"Addam, Addam." Minoth was squinting up at him out of the very corner of his eye, despite the conciliatory bent, and goodness, his face looked very nice in this lighting, didn't it. "I always want you." The words "Oh, shove off" came to mind, but Addam only found himself beaming back. This was nice! This was nice.

It would have been nicer if Minoth hadn't just shrugged his assorted vestments back on, but you couldn't win them all, now could you? Together, they seized upon the trunk, grappling for the thoughtfully designed handles on either side. Addam dared to "accidentally" trace a finger across the back of Minoth's right hand, between and around the gold accents; Minoth grinned contentedly in grateful reception of the gesture thereof.

When they'd successfully heaved it out of its erstwhile resting place hole, the next order of business was, of course, the lock. Minoth studied it with a cagey eye, absently retightening his ponytail and cracking his neck as he thought. Oh, but they were perfectly well equipped for this as a party. Only needed to call on their resident locksmith, and so Addam said so, though more tepidly than was probably best for efficiency and team morale.

"Oh, don't you need-" "Nah, I've been watching Brighid." Addam raised a silver eyebrow. "She lets you?" "She lets me do many things." The arched eyebrow turned into just one comical aspect of an unnecessarily contorted, half-disgusted face. "You needn't make it sound so lewd."

"You debase her," Minoth drawled lowly, "more than her skill at lockpicking ever could." "And you aggravate me more than a hundred Scorpox ever could." "Oh, likewise, my prince." That was the way they conversed, the overwhelming majority of the time, in affectionate banter far too complicated for any outside observer to parse.

As it turned out, his mooched skill was more a bit of shifty eyeing here, a touch of toothpick inserted there, and a final decision to simply shoot the lock clean (only it was in fact a very messy affair) off. "Can't do it without Haze's keen eye," he explained dryly.

"Then why didn't you just get Haze?" Addam was more genuinely curious than indignant as he begged this question. "Why, it would have spoiled our little moment together, my prince!" The arm laid about his shoulder was welcome, to be sure, and he found himself even leaning in to the other's infuriatingly leather-covered shoulder - that was the one caveat, because it was dreadfully unfair that Minoth didn't seem to be sweating a wit. Well, blame it on Blade physiology, he supposed.

The looping arm then made to make him forget all about that, pulling him in closer and resting head on top of head. If he wasn't damned sure it was decidedly not raining, Addam would have thought that a droplet had landed on the very tip of his nose when his eyes were closed for the briefest moment.

"You really shouldn't do that, you know." "Oh? How about don't tell me what to do?" Addam pushed out of the impromptu embrace then. "I'm not trying to-- Well, how about I do tell you what to do? Open the damn crate, already. Ruin the moment, my foot..."

Rolling his eyes, Minoth retracted his own arm and used it, along with the other, to heave open the chest with far more flair than could ever be necessary for practically any endeavor. First he ran fingers around the very edges of the silver trim, then danced them over each flourish of filigree, picked away broken bits of lock, shuffled the angle of the box in the sand, put a thief's ear to the sloping lid, plied the handles again, flicked at a sudden smudge of dirt around the back...all while staring pointedly back at Addam.

Addam Origo thought himself a very patient man, he really did. He took every little quibble and tribulation that came to their group in stride and with a smile. He laughed at insults, cried at tender moments, maintained the very evenest of keels, or if not that then certainly a milieu that was genial and agreeable to all.

Even Mythra could hardly so much as try his patience anymore - chalk it up to both their newfound maturities, and it was a thing to be proud of. (Now she tried his most deep-seated fears, instead. Lovely - charming, even.)

This, however? This strip show of an archaeological dig? He swatted the entirety of his brachial musculature at Minoth's back, very nearly sending the cowboy tumbling head first into the still-shut container's lid. "Prince-!" His voice sounded, quite frankly, rather dangerous, but only for a second. "Open it, damn you!" Then the danger, at least on a primal level, was gone, replaced only by an electric grin.

"Not until you let me pay you back for that." "Minoth!" Addam grimaced at how weak his echo seemed in comparison. "You'll send me hurtling back down the slope!" "Oh, poor prince, you want me to hold your hand so you don't?" Minoth didn't wait for an answer, immediately darting forward (he had turned around) to sneak another peck at Addam's nose. Preamble over, he spun back and flung open the chest, at last.

The top of the heap of...stuff inside teemed, much to Addam's chagrin, with Everyman Cicadas, Gregarious Scorpions, and Motley Cobras. Not that he knew their names. To him, of course, they just looked spooky and vaguely unidentifiable. Squirmy, was the word.

"Huh." "What's that?" Addam prompted tentatively, not sure he wanted to know. "These are all indigenous to Gormott." "Oh, how ever can you tell?" "Simple," Minoth said in the selfsame fashion. "You just tell - like I told you."

Somehow, things got terminally worse for Addam just then. The Flesh Eater had plucked up a scorpion by the tail and was inviting it without apprehension to crawl up into his bare hand. And was he...smiling at the cicadas? "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Only if you're a coward, and with these not even. The snakes are so friendly even our young Hugo couldn't be afraid of them." "I rather think he still would be," Addam said, crossing his arms and leaning far, far back. "He, unlike you, has still got some sense after all these years."

He was petting a cobra now, miniature though it was. "You'd eat a centipede if I dared you, wouldn't you - in fact, I'll bet you wouldn't even need an incentive." Unlucky prince: Minoth leaned back as well to join him, bugs amass and all. "I wouldn't need one, sure, but if I could get you to give me one...? Absolutely."

"You fascinate me." Minoth barked a laugh. "I know." Otherwise unbothered, he turned back to the chest, handily removed the remainder of the many-legged fauna with surprising delicacy, and resumed rummaging through it. "Battery Chip, that's for me, Auto-Balancer, that's for you, creepy old doll, that's for Aegaeon..."

Addam ignored (that is to say, firmly internalized) his mental affront at the quickfire assumption that it was he who would need balance-enhancing gear, instead focusing on the mentioned Core Chip. "You're not going to ask if anyone else needs it first? Or even wants it?" Minoth shrugged, again unbothered. "Why should I? Finders keepers, right?"

Titan's foot, that was it. He was always perpetually unbothered - except when he was giving some long diatribe about his current work. In order to get an advantage, one needed to return the blow with something equally poetic (well, more cryptic and useless, really). "Finders keepers...like I found you?"

"Sure, close enough," Minoth returned slowly. "Oh, would you look at that, I dropped something behind the lid, would you pick it up for me?" His tone was entirely too conversational for his request to be genuine, but Addam obliged anyway, against his better judgement.

Sure enough, the only thing to be found underneath the cocked lid of the chest was a pair of rough, cracked lips and the hands to match. "You're very quick on the punch, you know that?" When Minoth had done kissing him and carding his fingers indulgently through his hair, he replied to Addam's quip with a roguish smile.

"I have to be, don't I? If I want you." "Me?" "Well, you know." His shrug was insufferably handsome. "Finders keepers, and all that..."

They reemerged from behind the chest, and still no one was watching. Good. No cover blown. That is, until...

"YOU BETTER NOT HAVE EATEN ANY OF THOSE INSECTS BEFORE YOU KISSED ME, MINOTH!" Many a head from down below swiveled towards the source of the sound, but it looked like they hadn't really made it out completely.

Minoth sighed. "Addam, you really don't do any credit to our public decency." It was a tie between crossed arms, pursed lips, and scoffed breath for what made the prince appear most irritated. "What, and you're going to kiss me again to shut me up, bugs on your lips and all?" The cowboy grinned audaciously, prize won. "If you insist - anything for you, my prince."

Not to be too heavy-handed but somebody please comment about why the title and where it plays in is especially good, I want to see if anyone will pick up on it (y'all are smarties, you probably definitely will)!

There's a whole overarching canon to put this into context, and this will live as part of it eventually, but for now...they got that good good History, and that's all you'll know. Free flirting real estate, more or less, and nothing else.