3nanashi | (no subject)

Trowa nods. Makes sense!

And because this isn't the sort of scenario where anyone's going to question her beyond whatever vague details she chooses to give, they don't really need to work out a cover story in more depth. Accordingly, he proceeds out into the balmy L2 afternoon.

It's not technically sunny; that's because colonies are enclosed, and the interior doesn't actually get sunlight. But the ambient light is afternoon-bright.

X does not squint. She does, however, take a series of brief looks around.

Gaping like a tourist is not in her toolbox. She has no plans to put it in, either. (Especially not here.)

There are places Trowa likes to go? Or likes to show off?

It is difficult to know, offhand. And X is terrible at guessing.

Because it's X, Trowa's path is going to be what he considers a sensible one. That is to say, a systematic circle through the non-restricted areas, to facilitate assessment of the terrain. (The non-restricted areas are most of them, when you're with Trowa.)

Because it's the circus, they're likely to get curious looks and occasional people wandering by for a brief and discreetly inquisitive chat. So far, it's only the glances, though, and just a couple of them.

Trowa gives her a moment to take in the ~~terrain~~ sights, before he starts across the grass.

The circus usually sets up in a park of some sort; it's a good central area for the big top, and in the colonies parks are among the few areas with a lot of open space for trailers and tents. (The other common option is a parking lot. Grass is better on everybody's legs, though, and the only parking lot around here is where they need the audience to be able to park.)

X meets the looks as she passes, holding them for a moment or two before looking away. It is not meant to be dismissal.

She notes which of them move like people with combat skills, which could overpower her at close range, and which may (or may not) regard Trowa with surety.

A larger mental database is always better.

Always.

(The current people in view are Kylie Walsh, who's spent her life working in the circus and with elephants, who gives them a quick look and turns back to her laptop; Jenny Trieste, quiet with strangers but currently animated, who's taken martial arts but never put it to use, and who's regarding them with friendly curiosity; and Roy Garcia Schultze, sword-swallower and recent addition to some of the highwire routines. He's one of the few people in the circus with military experience, but he was support staff and only saw combat a couple of times; he lifts a hand to Trowa (who nods in return greeting), tips a curious glance at X, and goes back to his conversation with Jenny.)

First up is the practice area. There's a low wire strung between poles, and a pile of mats stacked near a portable foam pit. Some distance away is a rectangle blocked off with bright tape, with a few targets and a dense backdrop to catch any stray knives. None of it's covered; rain's not scheduled for another three days.

(X may nod to the people that make welcoming gestures, but waving is something that happens to other people. It is not a pity.)

X appears fascinated by the low wire, gaze flicking away to Trowa and then back again.

It could be a request for a demonstration.

Or a request for permission.

Well. Sure.

Trowa cants his head slightly towards the wire. Does she want to give it a go, or . . . ?

X casts another quick look between Trowa and the wire, then crouches down to take off her boots.

A few seconds later she is making her way to the wire, pausing to study it -- and take stock of the wind -- before she sets her foot down.

Hmm.

This will be interesting.

Trowa makes the educated assessment that X does not need a spotter -- she may fall, but it's not that far, and there are mats -- and also that she does not need the complication of somebody else on the wire just yet.

Accordingly, he strips off his own shoes and socks, and heads for the opposite pole. He'll climb to the small platform there, and wait.

Sometimes a demonstration is useful. But X can give it a go on her own first, if she wants.

Clearly, sometime in the past, Trowa has been unwise enough to allow Duo uninhibited access to his phone. Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor starts playing.

X does not startle -- she has been better trained than that.

But she does go still on the wire, toes curling to get a better grip, and looks to Trowa.

Is it an emergency?

Well, it's Duo.

So potentially, but probably not. Especially given the current context.

"Duo," he says to her in explanation, and slips the phone out of his pocket. Into the phone: "Hi."

"You just like springing surprises on me, don't you?"

X, all the way across the wire, stifles a laugh.

She is not very practiced at it.

(And it startles her every time.)

Trowa notes X's evident hearing abilities.

Also, that she's picked something reasonably amusing to laugh at! (Also, the startlement, but he politely ignores that. Which is not to say it doesn't go into the mental dossier.)

Quizzically unhelpful deadpan is a lot harder to effectively do over a voice-only phone. (This is one of the reasons Trowa doesn't like voice-only phones all that well.) Giving it a go anyway is always an option, but he opts for: "Mm?"

"When did the two of you become good enough friends for you to invite her for a visit?"

It's obviously not just because Duo is friends with her. Sure, Trowa trusts his judgement, but that's different than bringing someone 'home' to meet Cathy and his co-workers.

"We've talked some."

Or, more relevantly, companionably failed to talk a lot.

"And she was interested."

Trowa doesn't shrug, because: phone. He doesn't believe in pointless gestures. "A while."

There, Duo. An extra-long answer, just for you.

X, while paying attention to Trowa and Duo's conversation, has also begun making her way along the wire.

Carefully, if not particularly slowly.

Just to get the feel of it.

"I need new friends," Duo says in a mournful tone. "But I'll come supervise you anyway. It'll have to be after work. When should I show up?"

"The show's at 1800."

So . . . whenever he wants! And whenever his shift allows.

That does mean that X is going to be on her own from about 1715 on, but Trowa suspects she's pretty good at keeping herself occupied. Boredom is kind of silly.

"I'll find you when I can. Don't let the lions eat X, she'll give them indigestion."

He hangs up.

"I am faster than the lions," X observes, once Duo has stopped talking.

And, presumably, once Trowa has put away his phone.

"You do not have to worry."

"I wasn't."

Truth!

Though it's useful information about her reflexes.

X almost smiles, but not quite.

"I know."

Then they are in accord!

(Trowa's not smiling either, as such. But he's pretty relaxed; it maybe almost counts.)

He doesn't say okay, because there's no need. Just lapses back into silence, and lets X continue to explore the tightrope.

Either she's been on one before, or she's got excellent balance. Trowa didn't learn this fast, and he had Catherine assuming from day one that he'd learned the basics before.