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"No no, that one there. Are you deaf? The other one. Yes, yes, let me see it."

Nyko's honeyed eyes brightened considerably when the vendor placed a rather ornate necklace into his waiting hands. It was perhaps the most beautiful piece of jewelry he had ever seen in his life. Of course with the cut of his current wardrobe he wouldn't be able to pull it off, but if he were to be a little more daring, perhaps to go shirtless...

For the entirety of the day Nyko had flitted from stall to stall, soaking in the marketplace atmosphere much like a toddler in a toy shop. There simply wasn't much that he didn't want, and having to choose just one, within a suitable price range, was harder then he ever could have imagined. He had already tried on a pair of boots that struck his fancy, enough clothing to fill even the grandest rooms in any noble's villa, and the earrings...so many earrings!

He released the first three buttons of his top, and turned his back to the vendor, lifted his hair so that the man could assist in placed the necklace around Nyko's neck. When the weight of the golden accessory laid across his skin the boy was sold. It felt heavy; it felt expensive, even if the seller wasn't asking much for it. It's gold fanned out across his skin, glistening in spots with beads of jewels and Nyko could have squealed - alright, maybe he did - from the glee of it all.

"Sajah, I want this. I have to have this!" When Nyko dropped his hair and allowed it to fall down his back it came with a dramatic whip that no doubt flashed off the necklace as well.

Of course he paid as little attention to the crowd as possible - after all, wasn't that usually Sajahka's job? Nyko was the center of attention; the very bright, very loud distraction so that his friend might be able to work unnoticed. It wouldn't do for Nyko to try and be observant now. That being said he didn't notice what Sajah saw - nor would he be able to recognize the particular threat, anyway.

"I wish we could get the whole set - the earrings and the head piece - but that would be a little much, don't you think?"

Nyko had never been a quiet boy.

Sajah had been watching him still, keeping his attention as balanced as he could between Nyko’s bouncing and preening, and Leukos, who seemed intent on moving closer to them through the crowd, though he hadn’t yet looked their way. The nearer his browsing brought him, however (for it had to be browsing, Sajah knew he didn’t have the coin for especially much), the more Sajah felt a tingling at the balls of his feet. He probably ought to at the very least advise Nyko not to say—

“Sajah, I want this. I have to have this!”

Sajah felt a guilty pool of heat flush up from his gut and into his cheeks, because on the one hand, Nyko’s hair was a brilliant, full blue that caught the light with his new accessory when he modeled it—and on the other, the instant his friend spoke his name, Sajah’s gaze darted into the crowd and saw recognition flit over the other man’s expression. Apparently, though he’d never said it aloud himself, it had managed to leave an impression.

There was an instant then where Sajah’s mind carded through options. He could hide, if he thought it would have been plausible to dip or slip out of the way. He could have hushed Nyko immediately. He could have, if he had had the foresight, warned his loud-mouthed friend that there was company of note in the area and perhaps he shouldn’t speak quite so freely as usual—

But it was too late. And nothing seemed reasonable to be done about it anyway. Leukos’ attention was locked on him with fierce and by now unshakable intent, and having spotted him, he strode forward, evidently furious. Sajahka had no false misconceptions about the fact that the other man looked very, legitimately (and justifiably) unhappy with him, was significantly taller than him and fit besides. But all the same, in the initial span of moments it took for Leukos to close in on him (after he’d given up on attempting to avoid the reunion), Sajah could only think that whatever had inspired the man to get dressed in the morning must have done so with the raw intent to put him on display and had succeeded. And also that he looked beautifully invigorated when angry.

It was less comfortable to experience than it was enjoyable to behold from a safe distance. Sajah staggered under the blow—unproperly prepared for, if not completely unexpected, and certainly not undeserved. It hurt though, and he took a moment to balance himself as his head prickled with dizziness, hand raising to his jaw with a wince and a briefly pained grunt before he shook himself of it, and looked up. Wiping what might have by that point been a busted lip with the back of his hand, he flashed a grin of greeting, and winked, before cocking his attention to Nyko.

«This angry butterfly is the man from last night that I told you about—the one I got the coin from. Keep it away from him and step back some. I can handle him.»

Punching someone in the face was never as glamorous as it should be. Sure it was SO satisfying on an immediate, primal level, seeing Sajahka’s head whip to the side as he staggered; but the split knuckles Leukos earned from it were a tax he would have gladly passed up on. His fists were taking a bit more abuse than normal on this trip, and they were NOT appreciating all the extra attention.

All that aside, he was completely prepared to suffer the consequences of a bit more abuse if the b*****d tried to run, because Leukos had QUITE a few things to say to him. And then the little p***k was grinning and winking at him, like nothing had even happened, like everything was all peaches and cream between them. Which it most certainly was not. His throbbing hand clenched into a fist again as he watched the hand motions being signed out, brow furrowing out of a combination of offense and confusion, because what kind of janky system was Sajahka using? Most of the “words” be signed were correct, but there were some weird bits in there too.

Clearly from the quality of the note Saj had written that same morning, his grammar and spelling skills were lacking. It should really come as no surprise then, that his comprehension of such a complex code of symbols used by the Oban nobility to speak to their deaf children would be lacking as well.

The confusion did jostle him enough to put a minor hiccup in the flaming stream of anger that was racing in his mind, putting his hands on his hips as he glared down at him. “Oh, a butterfly, am I? You’ll ‘handle’ me? I think you will find I am not as easy to handle when the crutch of alcohol is no longer in the way.”

[2/10]

"What the hell is going on? You can understand him?!" Nyko gesticulated wildly as he spoke, not even bothering to keep his voice down. He shifted the coin purse so that he could tie it off to his belt, leaving his hands free to move about as needed.

While it wasn't entirely surprising that someone else would know the 'language' Sajahka spoke, Nyko certainly didn't expect to find anyone that knew it in Matori, let alone one of their own kind. What were the odds in that? Under happier circumstances he would have been pleased that Sajah managed such a rare find, but now it was really biting them in the rear.

"Who are you? What house do you serve?" Nyko puffed up and stepped closer to Sajahka's side, mirroring Leukos' stance by putting his own hands on his hips, cocking his head up to openly glower at the man.

There was a lot of innuendos that Nyko didn't understand - or rather, didn't want to think too much on - but the possibility of them being tracked, of Sajah robbing a man who was sent to bring them back was enough to put him into a defensive panic.

Sajah supposed Nyko’s was a valid question in retrospect. If Leukos recognized hand signs crafted for Oban nobility he had to have had some background in it for service of masters. But fortunately, the concern that he might have motives other than his own was done away with. Under other circumstances, Sajah may have held onto lingering doubts, but given Leukos’ presentation and the summation of facts, in this area at least he believed him.

Nothing could have prepared him for the accusations to come, however. Adequate.

Adequate.

The instantaneousness with which sharp, irrational offense flared in him was stark and startling, and he snarled. «No one taught me.» His hands, of course, could not shout or raise their volume, but they moved with crisp ferocity, faster and (if unintentionally) exaggerated with emotional emphasis. «I took it for myself. This language is mine, and it is perfect because this is how we made it. I do not—»

He derailed, though, at the latter commentary, and a different sort of heat moved for his ears as Leukos went on—and on. He cleared his throat, shaking his head and making vague ‘you could stop now’ gestures. To no effect. Only when Leukos seemed quite finished did he sign again.

«Butterfly, this is my friend, Songbird. His name is N-Y-K-O.» He made an inarticulate grunt of a sound and rolled his shoulders, eartips still tellingly purplish with heat as he spared an underhanded glance in Nyko’s direction. «He is not my boyfriend.» His gaze lifted to meet Leukos’ again. «But his pretty little mouth can say whatever it wants.»

Between glaring down at the angry little fish that was prodding at him, and trying to decipher the emotionally stuttered hand signs coming from Saj, having his attention divided among two different targets was proving to be more challenging than Leukos had foreseen. Then there was movement coming from this “Nyko”, taking out his earrings for some reason, and it was only as the fist was coming barreling at his face that a light-bulb came on in his mind: this is what chicks do when they are getting into a fight.

His arms came up instinctually to block the majority of the power behind the punch, but not soon enough to prevent Nyko’s knuckles from clipping off the side of his chin. It could hardly be called a painful blow, but the emotional impact felt like a slap to his face. The fact that it had come so suddenly from a source he had underestimated, and that this whole stupid encounter was all because he had let himself be taken advantage of like a naïve idiot and had lost his cool, set hot frustrated blood pounding into his ears, reason taking the back-burner.

Leukos’ hands shot down to grab the front of Nyko’s shirt, pulling him onto his toes to snarl at him, “Do you want a fight you littl―”

But apparently that had been the last straw for the merchant whose stall had become their battleground, slamming his fists down around the jewels and leaning over the counter to holler at them, “THAT IS ENOUGH! I WILL NOT ALLOW LOW-BROW BRAWLING TO SULLY MY BUSINESS!!”

His head snapped around to face the merchant, growling at the interruption. But then Leukos saw the disdain in the man’s eyes, becoming aware of the silence as the immediate crowd stared at them. And all at once the fire in his mind was quenched by a flood of embarrassment, ashamed for causing such a tasteless scene.

This wasn’t how he usually acted. This wasn’t the attention he wanted. It was all wrong.

So he dropped his hold on Nyko, taking a step back as he stared hard at the ground, cheeks flush, teeth locked into a grimace.

“……. my apologies.”
[4/10]

The immediate satisfaction his spirit called for with such a blow didn't come. Instead Nyko was miffed that Leukos' timing allowed him to somewhat block it, preventing him from suffering more, and the pain that radiated up through Nyko's arm had him making a sharp, surprised noise. It didn't quell the fire, though; even now, when cradling his hand to his chest he still looked up at the big pissant like-

Nyko's hands dropped to make way for a sharp inhale, a tell tale sign he hadn't expected being lifted up off his feet. He reached up to grasp Leukos' wrist with his hands, fingernails digging into his skin as Nyko tried to dislodge his fingers. There was real fear in him, who wouldn't panic, with their toes just skimming the ground?, but damn if he wasn't going to-

All at once Nyko was being dropped and he stumbled, trying to catch his balance after his rough 'departure'. He didn't retain it for long, however; instincts were far stronger than pride and ingrained deep within his very soul. Just hearing such an angry voice accompanied by a loud, aggressive sound dropped Nyko's heart into his chest.

It took him a moment to realize that Sajah was elbowing him, and when he turned to look at his friend his skin had lost some of it's color. Nyko had gone pale; which, compared to the flushed anger of just a few moments ago, was quite the feat. He tried to c**k his mouth into an amused grin, but it came out forced.

"Why don't you take us back to your room? We can pick up there; unless, you can't pay for it anymore and are sleeping on the streets. In which case, let's a pick a different one, hrm?"

There wasn't as much teasing in his tone as there was in the words chosen. Nyko wanted out of there, but he was too afraid that if he ran Leukos' would follow them. If they could at least get away from the crowd they could knock him out and make their escape.