dumbshow | Friends of Trains

What would I wear heels for? [This he says to the hole in the roof. By the time Jacob joins him he's sitting there completely unruffled, like getting boosted up there didn't even happen. How does he do it! Practice.

Anyway, don't answer that question, just sit here with him.]

It's not bad. [Hmm.] Down there all I see is gutter, slum, Blighters still coming out of the mud, someone trying to pinch my profits— This is what you look at all the time?

[You know, in between murders. He's inching toward impressed, slowly but surely.]

When I'm not putting Blighters in the mud and saving your profits. [Jacob settled down beside the unruffled, smaller man and leaned back against the slant of the roof. Who knew someone could be more relaxed three floors high than he was on the ground?] It... goes both ways. Spend too long in the slums and you start to wonder if the city's worth saving. Spend all your time up here, you don't see that it needs saving.

[That was about ten seconds of seriousness from Jacob Frye before he's elbowing Ned's arm.] You might have to stand a little taller to see what I see, but I'm glad you've joined me. I was starting to think you were no all talk.

[Oh—huh. Ten seconds of seriousness isn't very long, but they don't need to dwell on the good and bad parts of London that much, considering their respective lifestyles. Ned still glances sideways at Jacob, that little smirk back again, but somewhat softer this time. This is probably "having a moment."

Which of course ends abruptly, but Ned only scoffs and reaches across to push at Jacob's shoulder for the elbow.] I can see just fine, Frye. You're so busy saving the city you forgot I've got business everywhere in it. Let's just say this isn't my first clandestine rooftop meeting.

[But it's the first one with flirting. With genuine flirting and no guns.]

Is it really a clandestine if half a dozen of my men saw you with me? [Is anything they do really a secret anyone anymore? Not really. But Jacob favors frequency over secrecy, and enjoys Ned's shoves at his shoulders. It was cute enough for an unguarded look of fondness he wasn't even aware he was giving.]

And... she's setting. [He redirects that look out to the distant Thames, pointing to the reflection of the sun setting the river. Ignore the hand coming to rest on Ned's back to turn him, it's completely normal.] I can't be out on the water during this. I'd want to sail into it.

Don't split hairs. [Please... Rooks don't count. Ned's people certainly don't know where the hell he went, so it's sort of clandestine. It's that look on Jacob's face that gets Ned to cooperate with the hand on his back, turning to look out toward the river.

This lasts about five seconds, before Ned isn't shrugging him off so much as leaning forward under the pretense of pulling one of his knees up to his chest. It's not that Jacob's hands on him are objectionable, but... Well.

Anyway.] I never got into sailing. Trains you can move around on a little, you know? But a ship—more than a week on a cheap steamer is plenty enough to turn you off sailing.

I wouldn't know. [The country boy has to admit, hesitantly withdrawing his hand to rest on his own knee. Jacob didn't know what to make of Ned leaning out of it, but he'll at least appreciate the view. of him. He was looking at the water? What?]

I shouldn't be surprised, though. [Ned and his damn trains... He comes to smirk, leaning back with a thoughtful glance out to the distant rails.] Tell you what, Wynert. If I ever slip up too bad to come back from, you can ride my train into the sunset. Only you deserve her.

[Let him and his trains rest. He hums, only half listening now that he's thinking about boats and trains and who knows what else, saving the city maybe, but after a moment he blinks and turns slightly to look at Jacob instead of the sunset. What was that...??]

I'm flattered, but try not to screw up that badly. That's more paperwork for me. [Some...how, listen, not the point.]

I screw up trying or not, Ned. It's bound to happen sooner or later. [Jacob's laugh has less humor and more bitterness in it. He doesn't spare a glance back this time, knowing he'd look much too serious about it. That wasn't hot.] Just thought you should know, so you don't have to steal it from Evie.

[Ugh, he was supposed to keep being sexy or something. Here, he'll take off his hat. That helps.] We both know how that'd go.

[Alright, Ned did not come up here to be treated to Jacob Frye's self-deprecation. He turns to face him a little more, leaning his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm, and he frowns. Of course he frowns; taking that hat off won't distract him that easily.]

It'd go just fine because I'm good at what I do. Maybe even the best. [The best... here, in London. Sure. He looks at Jacob for another moment before sighing and leaning over to push at his shoulder again. Don't sulk, it's weird.]

I'll get my hands on your train if you insist, but I'm gonna need you to take care of her for me until I've got time for her. I think I'll need, hm... a couple dozen years?

[Jacob could argue that what Evie does is usually what ruins people like Ned's best work, but... he won't burst that bubble. Ned is the best at what he does in London and there's no sense in ruining the moment.

But... hm. He does get a little of that smile back, and hey, he'll even look at him instead of getting lost in thought.] Yeah? That's about a dozen years more than an assassin's life expectancy, but I guess I'll manage just for you. Might be worth my while.

[He's the best!! Let him have this!]

That's the spirit. Who's going to get me up this high if you quit on me?

[There, see, his purely professional interest in Jacob Frye not being depressed and dying—very professional. He even pats him on the shoulder before letting his hand fall away. It's fine when he does it.

After that he falls silent again, and looks out at the river—hmm. It'll be a minute or so before he speaks up again with,] If you want a boat, that wouldn't be too hard.

[Jacob blinks, finding himself just looking at Ned instead of the back and forth between him and the river. His shoulders actually start to relax after he laid a hand on him, and that was... weird.

It wasn't as weird as him saying things like that, though.] Are you offering me a boat, Wynert? I'm... flattered, but that doesn't sound like it's in your best interest. [He'd crash it,]

[Ned hums, waving his hand back and forth like he's not quite made up his mind yet, but he might be offering him a boat. All things considered, a boat isn't the most expensive gift he's handed to someone just because.]

Didn't anybody ever tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Frye? I'm running out of guns to give you.

I like the gun you gave me. [There we go, a full smile talking about killing people. You got him with kinda sorta boat offerings and shoulder touches.]

You don't have to invest any more than what gets the job done, Ned. [Is he allowed... a touch... he's going for a quick pat on the back. Testing.] I'll be just fine.

[That sure is a bar being set lower than expected, but he'll take it. He gestures again, more flippantly, like that will explain in a wave of his little hand exactly how his personal checks-and-balances system works. Insurance, bought loyalty, paid debts—but he's offering Jacob a boat because something about him saying he won't make it another dozen years puts him on edge in a way he doesn't like.

So he waves his hand a little and that's enough of that.]

Well, you're still taking care of the train for me. That's non-negotiable. [The pat on the back... is brief enough to be fine, he won't pull away from it.] You like the gun, though? That one was one of my favorites.

You think I wouldn't like it? [Jacob raises his brows in amusement, leaning back to open the rags he calls a coat. He goes through his belts, so many belts, pulling the Mars from one and Serrated Death from the other.]

On me all the time. All I use. [He turns them over, admiring the little details like it was the first time he'd gave them.] If I'm spending all my time protecting your cargo, I might as well spill blood with your weapons.

[Oh, hey, there are his cool weapons now! He perks up a little, since it's just so nice hearing his gifts have been, uh, useful.]

And yet you still keep 'em hidden in that flimsy sheet you've been passing off as a coat. Give it here. [He holds out his hand; let him see his favorite gun again, he misses it.]

It's not flimsy. [It's just ridden with poorly sewn up slashes and bullet holes. Jacob sighs like it takes some great effort to hand it over, delicately placing it into Ned's hand.

And throwing his knife up into the air to catch by the hilt. One he takes care in, one he doesn't. It's fine.] Why'd you hand it over if you like it so much? You still got your own, right...?

[Ned's eyebrows go up even as his gaze drops to the gun. Okay, keep telling yourself that, Jacob. It's flimsy.]

I can't show my appreciation with something nice? I told you, you've been pretty invaluable to me. You and your sister. [Great save. He hefts the gun in his hand a few times, then holds it up and aims it out toward the river. Is Jacob taking good care of his baby...

And oh yeah, as an afterthought,] I've got plenty of other guns.

Yet you never ask Evie to do anything. [Ummm excuse him, he's doing all the work here. He shook his head, sheathing the knife to lay his hands behind his head.] Maybe I should just be your bodyguard. You're taking over the city, and don't look like you pack much. People'll think you're an easy target.

[Or he just wants to spend time with him, but shut up.]

She's done a couple things, here and there. [You know, if they were on her way to look at old books and things. But Jacob might have a point, which Ned won't acknowledge more than a tiny quirk up of his lips as he keeps fiddling with the gun. After a moment he leans back on the slant of the roof himself, still pointing the gun around like maybe he will shoot some clouds to prove he owns London. Never mind that.]

This city... You know, I've wanted to come here since I was a kid. And now I'm so close... [He trails off, a wry look on his face while he thinks. London in his back pocket - that's the dream, isn't it? His whole life he's been chasing one thing or another, and now he's almost got what he wants. Weird thought.]

If you're my bodyguard, that's practically the same as handing me the Rooks. It's no fun when it just falls into my lap, Frye.

Like you haven't already stolen most of them anyway. They ask when they're going to work for you again, you know. [Jacob rolls his eyes, but he can't help that fond little smile at the look on Ned's face. There's that same light in his eyes like he had at the station, and it's just wonderful.]

And what's the great Ned Wynert going to do when he has all of London? Take over the entire country?

[Aw, that makes him smile. The Rooks may be collectively a bunch of gross thugs and plenty of them ex-Blighters, but that just makes their desire to work for him an even greater ego boost.]

If I need a couple, I'll come around. [His stepchildren,] Who needs the whole country when you have London? It's pretty much the same thing.

What, you're telling me you aren't going to take over Crawley personally? I'm hurt. [Jacob leaned forward to place a hand over his heart, as if this truly offended him. Nah. He stopped caring about home as soon as he got to beat up Blighters.] Hurt, Ned. Give me back my gun.

[He won't wait, though, he's leaning over him to take it back himself. Like a child.]

My gun, that I gave you for helping me out. [See, he still claims ownership!! But he won't play keep-away because he's an adult, so Jacob can have the gun back. Don't roll over on him.]

You want me to take a trip to your hometown, Frye? I'm a little busy.

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