[ It never gets old. Rare these days that he gets to experience the undiluted high of wonder himself - magic is wonderful, he's in awe of it all the time, but it's also his bread and butter, his study, his sword. The same isn't true for everyone. To see that honest thrill of awestruck delight echoed back at him in the eyes of a man not so far from the age he was when he first found it has a little frisson of joy bloom abruptly somewhere behind his sternum.
A heady drug, that one. But it's always good to be reminded that magic really can be just that. Magic.
The conversation moves, Stephen allowing a soft, lopsided smile to stick around right up until Yujin pulls the pin on a belter of a question and, buoyed by the recent shot to the ego (incredible is still a compliment even when it's also legitimately moving), bats back an answer almost before the question has time to land. ]
Who's going to interrupt a free show?
[ It's funny because the 'show' was Yujin attempting to shimmy his way out of his sodden hakama to eventual success (never mind the kimono, we don't need to talk about the kimono) and he doesn't let it linger because it's only ever after he's finished a quip that he realises maybe he simply should've left it in his mouth. ]
Technically you were never actually wet, so maybe the real question is why you decided to disrobe in the first place.
[ It's an rebuttal gifted to him by the angels of abrupt realisation. To the best of his understanding, the Sunlight Room is a fixed simulation. Feels real in here, is real in here... but walk out the door? He's fairly sure Yujin's going to be as dry as when he walked in.
Whether or not that's actually true, he has a lifetime of practice saying things confidently and believing he's right. So, brows raised and waiting, expression bright with play and faux innocence, Stephen watches the proverbial ball sail back into the other man's court. Try him again, Mikotoba, he was born ready to parry. ]
[His smile, of course, has not been lost on Yujin, an uncommon enough sight on Stephen's face for it to be especially noteworthy. The pride is there, and yet it readily gives way, filling up its space with something warmer and more earnest than ego alone.
The well-worn methodology of a master of his craft, made novel again through an observer's fresh eyes. The thought of it stirs a nagging, familiar feeling in the back of Yujin's mind that he cannot quite place.
All this, however, was a few crucial moments and two extremely loaded sentences ago-- all other considerations have been banished to the same place that all his non-wizard concerns went when he took an impromptu dip. The Sunlight Room is nothing but a skillfully-wrought illusion, something he'd entirely forgotten in the excitement. In other words, Stephen is probably correct. Which also means that Yujin has, most likely, stripped down to nearly his underwear for no reason at all.
(Free show, did he seriously just say that out loud--)]
Ah.
[The proverbial ball bounces once. Thank god for the years he's spent building up his composure: Yujin's expression stays deadpan until he gathers himself, swinging back with his own retort.]
So, because you "technically" wouldn't be wet, you wouldn't mind it if you were pushed back in there yourself.
[Standing with his arms akimbo, Yujin glances up at the cloak, then back to Stephen, his tone challenging despite the evenness of his face.]
[ Stephen stands rooted to his spot as a pause stretches out between them, watching for the well-concealed beats of Yujin processing his play and readying a return, unsure for a time what to expect from the evenness of his expression or his planted hands...
—Oho?
Those raised brows scoot a little higher, and with gargantuan effort he keeps his own face an artful mask of surprise. ]
Is that a threat, Dr. Mikotoba?
[ And don't think he missed that little glance to the cloak either. He shoots a glance up at it himself, the surprise melting into exaggerated indignation - too over-egged to be anything other than part of the game.
And there are two ways to play this. One, he could stand here perfectly politely and wait to see if Yujin's really going to come and try dunking him. Or - and number two wins out immediately, the tell of a muscle twitch breaking ranks, an almost-but-not-quite ghost of a smirk as the chance for frivolity after months of such extreme caution overrides his better judgment - he could force his hand.
At his side, subtle as he can manage but far from imperceptible, one hand trills its fingers through the air. And then there's a ball of water approximately the size of an average snowball lifting out of the river and flying directly toward Yujin Mikotoba's torso.
Me? Threaten you? [His stoic expression falters. Even as he feigns affront at the mere suggestion, amusement twinkles in Yujin's eyes, and a smirk of his own tugs subtly at the corner of his lip.] You're making a serious accusation, Dr. Strange.
[Already he's formed about half a plan in his head. If he can simply drag the game on a bit longer, perhaps subtly appeal to the cloak's mischievous nature, he can definitely find some way to knock the other man into the water before he realizes it's happening. No trouble at all. He lifts his arms off his hips, prepared to lower them back to his sides--
Only... he's failed to account for the magic?]
W-wait!
[It's too late. Stephen's seized the advantage, and he never even saw the man cast the spell. Yujin, panicked, flattens his palms and sticks his hands out in front of him; obviously, that isn't going to stop the ball of water sailing at him, so he makes a break to his right. For a doctor-professor off his prime by a few years, he's still fairly light on his feet. Not light enough to miss it completely, however.
But it hardly matters, because he's cracked completely now. Through a chuckle, he manages the name] Stephen! [and as he scrambles away, it bubbles into more; less shy, all that restraint slipping away.] I was only joking-- ah! [The ball of water connects. Though it's a glancing blow's, it's still a blow, and the resulting splash soaks his left sleeve through all over again.
And at last, Yujin Mikotoba-- helpless to stop it-- bursts into a peal of genuine laughter: easy, free, heart lighter than it has been in many months.]
Now you've done it!
[Never mind Stephen's joggers. It's entirely unfair that only one of them is wet right now. Using the momentum he's gathered, Yujin advances upon Stephen; he reaches to grab him by a sleeve, moves a leg to sweep one of Stephen's out from under him, and shoves him backward, hoping to knock him into the water below.]
[ He's expecting retaliation. Ready for it. What he's not expecting is for retaliation to be so swift and sure-footed.
One second Yujin's laughing, really laughing, easy and bright in a way he's not seen him before and the laughter's infectious and Stephen can't help the chuckle that's pulled from him like water from a stone caught off guard—
And the next Yujin's got him. There's nothing to grab for to keep his balance, the other man's grip putting Stephen's arm between the two of them and nothing in the way of his seeking hands, so-much-for-loyal cloak floating benignly a long way out of reach. ]
Oh, fu—
[ So he goes down. And the water may not be real, but it's wet right now, and Stephen lands awkwardly from the where the grip and the sweeping leg had unsettled his balance so one entire side of him gets dipped before the arm under him can shove him back out of it again. He low-key tries to keep himself balanced on that one arm, teeters on the brink of thinking he might be able to push himself up out of the water all the way and keep half a dry torso - and loses the battle.
Slumping back to centre has the dry parts of his shirt guzzling up water from below. Propped up on his hands, sodden from pretty much the neck down save for a few just damp patches on his torso, he sits there in the shallows staring up at Yujin on the bank with an impossibly straight face... for the all of five seconds he can hold it before his expression cracks into a smirk. Then a grin. Then laughter leaking low and rich at his own expense and their shared victory over another morose day in a row of morose days. And for all his laughter is just as earnest as the mirth spilling from Yujin, it's also got a little natural edge of this could well be the prelude to a dastardly plan.
He lifts a hand out of the water, still grinning as he sweeps it over his mostly dry hair, an expertly elaborate ruse— and then brings it down palm flat and angled like a blade into the water. Where any other person's hand might cause a tiny little wave on impact his sends a sudden sheet of water rising up out of the river about the height of a man and moving fast toward where, as if by magic, a man just so happens to be standing.
The first time was an accident. The second time barely a splash. This one's vengeance, but at least it's served with a smile. ]
[The entire scene's absurd: two grown men who are much too old for this fighting in the water like boys. But perhaps it's also something necessary. Though both bedraggled and thoroughly drenched now, they've still won-- against the orbs, against another day of giving into worlds upon worlds of despair. And he's made Stephen laugh. For once on this station, victory really does feel like victory. Yujin can endure getting a little wet for that.
Of course, it's a mistake to forget about the magic a second time. Just as he shuffles over to Stephen, the last of his laughter bubbling away, the other man brings his hand down like a knife. Yujin might be fast, but he isn't fast enough to evade a man-sized wave crashing into him head-long.]
Hey! [he starts, and never finishes: he's sputtering water in the next instant, stumbling backward several steps. So much for that earlier drying spell. Yujin, a little damp before, is streaming water all over again.]
You're-- [Chuckling, Yujin fruitlessly wipes at his face with a sleeve that is just as wet.] --you're an awful cheater, I can't do magic!
[As if to illustrate, he swipes an arm outward: there's no five-foot curtain of water, but it does shower Stephen with a few stray droplets.]
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A heady drug, that one. But it's always good to be reminded that magic really can be just that. Magic.
The conversation moves, Stephen allowing a soft, lopsided smile to stick around right up until Yujin pulls the pin on a belter of a question and, buoyed by the recent shot to the ego (incredible is still a compliment even when it's also legitimately moving), bats back an answer almost before the question has time to land. ]
Who's going to interrupt a free show?
[ It's funny because the 'show' was Yujin attempting to shimmy his way out of his sodden hakama to eventual success (never mind the kimono, we don't need to talk about the kimono) and he doesn't let it linger because it's only ever after he's finished a quip that he realises maybe he simply should've left it in his mouth. ]
Technically you were never actually wet, so maybe the real question is why you decided to disrobe in the first place.
[ It's an rebuttal gifted to him by the angels of abrupt realisation. To the best of his understanding, the Sunlight Room is a fixed simulation. Feels real in here, is real in here... but walk out the door? He's fairly sure Yujin's going to be as dry as when he walked in.
Whether or not that's actually true, he has a lifetime of practice saying things confidently and believing he's right. So, brows raised and waiting, expression bright with play and faux innocence, Stephen watches the proverbial ball sail back into the other man's court. Try him again, Mikotoba, he was born ready to parry. ]
no subject
The well-worn methodology of a master of his craft, made novel again through an observer's fresh eyes. The thought of it stirs a nagging, familiar feeling in the back of Yujin's mind that he cannot quite place.
All this, however, was a few crucial moments and two extremely loaded sentences ago-- all other considerations have been banished to the same place that all his non-wizard concerns went when he took an impromptu dip. The Sunlight Room is nothing but a skillfully-wrought illusion, something he'd entirely forgotten in the excitement. In other words, Stephen is probably correct. Which also means that Yujin has, most likely, stripped down to nearly his underwear for no reason at all.
(Free show, did he seriously just say that out loud--)]
Ah.
[The proverbial ball bounces once. Thank god for the years he's spent building up his composure: Yujin's expression stays deadpan until he gathers himself, swinging back with his own retort.]
So, because you "technically" wouldn't be wet, you wouldn't mind it if you were pushed back in there yourself.
[Standing with his arms akimbo, Yujin glances up at the cloak, then back to Stephen, his tone challenging despite the evenness of his face.]
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—Oho?
Those raised brows scoot a little higher, and with gargantuan effort he keeps his own face an artful mask of surprise. ]
Is that a threat, Dr. Mikotoba?
[ And don't think he missed that little glance to the cloak either. He shoots a glance up at it himself, the surprise melting into exaggerated indignation - too over-egged to be anything other than part of the game.
And there are two ways to play this. One, he could stand here perfectly politely and wait to see if Yujin's really going to come and try dunking him. Or - and number two wins out immediately, the tell of a muscle twitch breaking ranks, an almost-but-not-quite ghost of a smirk as the chance for frivolity after months of such extreme caution overrides his better judgment - he could force his hand.
At his side, subtle as he can manage but far from imperceptible, one hand trills its fingers through the air. And then there's a ball of water approximately the size of an average snowball lifting out of the river and flying directly toward Yujin Mikotoba's torso.
Come at him, professor. Dunk him if you dare. ]
no subject
[Already he's formed about half a plan in his head. If he can simply drag the game on a bit longer, perhaps subtly appeal to the cloak's mischievous nature, he can definitely find some way to knock the other man into the water before he realizes it's happening. No trouble at all. He lifts his arms off his hips, prepared to lower them back to his sides--
Only... he's failed to account for the magic?]
W-wait!
[It's too late. Stephen's seized the advantage, and he never even saw the man cast the spell. Yujin, panicked, flattens his palms and sticks his hands out in front of him; obviously, that isn't going to stop the ball of water sailing at him, so he makes a break to his right. For a doctor-professor off his prime by a few years, he's still fairly light on his feet. Not light enough to miss it completely, however.
But it hardly matters, because he's cracked completely now. Through a chuckle, he manages the name] Stephen! [and as he scrambles away, it bubbles into more; less shy, all that restraint slipping away.] I was only joking-- ah! [The ball of water connects. Though it's a glancing blow's, it's still a blow, and the resulting splash soaks his left sleeve through all over again.
And at last, Yujin Mikotoba-- helpless to stop it-- bursts into a peal of genuine laughter: easy, free, heart lighter than it has been in many months.]
Now you've done it!
[Never mind Stephen's joggers. It's entirely unfair that only one of them is wet right now. Using the momentum he's gathered, Yujin advances upon Stephen; he reaches to grab him by a sleeve, moves a leg to sweep one of Stephen's out from under him, and shoves him backward, hoping to knock him into the water below.]
no subject
One second Yujin's laughing, really laughing, easy and bright in a way he's not seen him before and the laughter's infectious and Stephen can't help the chuckle that's pulled from him like water from a stone caught off guard—
And the next Yujin's got him. There's nothing to grab for to keep his balance, the other man's grip putting Stephen's arm between the two of them and nothing in the way of his seeking hands, so-much-for-loyal cloak floating benignly a long way out of reach. ]
Oh, fu—
[ So he goes down. And the water may not be real, but it's wet right now, and Stephen lands awkwardly from the where the grip and the sweeping leg had unsettled his balance so one entire side of him gets dipped before the arm under him can shove him back out of it again. He low-key tries to keep himself balanced on that one arm, teeters on the brink of thinking he might be able to push himself up out of the water all the way and keep half a dry torso - and loses the battle.
Slumping back to centre has the dry parts of his shirt guzzling up water from below. Propped up on his hands, sodden from pretty much the neck down save for a few just damp patches on his torso, he sits there in the shallows staring up at Yujin on the bank with an impossibly straight face... for the all of five seconds he can hold it before his expression cracks into a smirk. Then a grin. Then laughter leaking low and rich at his own expense and their shared victory over another morose day in a row of morose days. And for all his laughter is just as earnest as the mirth spilling from Yujin, it's also got a little natural edge of this could well be the prelude to a dastardly plan.
He lifts a hand out of the water, still grinning as he sweeps it over his mostly dry hair, an expertly elaborate ruse— and then brings it down palm flat and angled like a blade into the water. Where any other person's hand might cause a tiny little wave on impact his sends a sudden sheet of water rising up out of the river about the height of a man and moving fast toward where, as if by magic, a man just so happens to be standing.
The first time was an accident. The second time barely a splash. This one's vengeance, but at least it's served with a smile. ]
no subject
Of course, it's a mistake to forget about the magic a second time. Just as he shuffles over to Stephen, the last of his laughter bubbling away, the other man brings his hand down like a knife. Yujin might be fast, but he isn't fast enough to evade a man-sized wave crashing into him head-long.]
Hey! [he starts, and never finishes: he's sputtering water in the next instant, stumbling backward several steps. So much for that earlier drying spell. Yujin, a little damp before, is streaming water all over again.]
You're-- [Chuckling, Yujin fruitlessly wipes at his face with a sleeve that is just as wet.] --you're an awful cheater, I can't do magic!
[As if to illustrate, he swipes an arm outward: there's no five-foot curtain of water, but it does shower Stephen with a few stray droplets.]