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Loops' knock on Gunnar's office door was always distinct. For one, it rapped from far lower than many of his usual non-Lalafell visitors -- though the old man could always tell it wasn't a Lalafell due to its somewhat feeble impact. Feeble or no, it distracted Gunnar from his work of perusing several proposals and business plans to expand his mercenary wing of the company. They were all neatly laid out on the dark wooden desk before him like tiles of parchment, each one ready to be picked up and looked at at a moments notice. Gunnar had to admit to himself that the view of the crackling fireplace only a few yalms from his desk inspired some rather rash impulses. Nevertheless, he bid the boy enter.
Loops was less than impressive for a boy his age in terms of looks. He was hyuran, that much was sure -- and very likely of Highlander stock, given his three or four ilms' advantage over other boys. No more than thirteen summers of age, he stood with a head of dark, scraggly hair that fell on either side of a smooth face that was often flat with melancholy. His eyes showed interest in few things, dull save for the spark of intelligence behind them. Usually he was dusty, and dressed in loose, dusty clothes -- but today he seemed to have bathed and put on a set of tattered but laundered trappings. The shirt was a bit too big, where the sleeves went a few ilms past his fingertips and the lower hem skirted his knees. The trousers seemed to fit fine, though below them he wore no shoes. The boy made sure to close the door behind him before addressing his host. "Hello, Mister Gunnar."
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Gunnar himself was dressed in his usual; a casual tunic of Ul'dahn style -- though today he eschewed the shirt underneath to leave his arms bare. With the densely packed, scarred muscles and his eyepatch, he looked quite a bit more like a desert bandit than a businessman. It was an intimidating thing, likely presented on purpose. His silver eye moved to the boy. "Welcome, Loops. I didn't expect you today. I'd have had your favourite meal catered and brought here had I known. Please, come sit." He gestured toward one of the two plush chairs before his desk. "To what do I owe the visit?"
Loops scuttled to the chair and climbed into it with enthusiasm that betrayed his age. It was a bit of a scramble, concluded with a wiggle that situated him properly in the comfortable cushions. He offered a polite smile to Gunnar before his face settled back into the default, yet harmless melancholy. "I saw you walking in Ul'Dah with Ulfarr yesterday." There was a distinct attempt at avoiding an accusatory tone.
Gunnar leaned back in his chair and set his arms on the rest. His head tipped to the left as he regarded the young boy. "And so you did," He confirmed, "What of it, then?"
While Loops' face betrayed naught, his hands did root from the oversized sleeves to find each other and wring amidst the loose cloth. "You're enemies now. Did you kill him?" This time the waver in his voice was there, as was the tension and apprehension that took his small frame. Fortunately the latter was mitigated by the absolute sheet of a shirt on his back.
Gunnar remained placed for a drawn out moment, then sighed, "I did not kill him." Loops seemed to deflate with relief, though Gunnar continued to speak, "We have in fact reconciled our differences, and allowed for bygones to be bygones. While he is not in my employ, I have invited him to remain as a companion -- and will work to make sure that his family's interests and safety are also taken care of."
Loops ended up with his mouth open, and his rickety torso leaned forward. He had not the mindset to try to hide how happy he was about what had just been said -- though a wariness took him before long. "...are you deceiving him? Is it a trap for him, or the others?"
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Gunnar's laugh made the poor boy jump, and he had to offer a soothing apology before he responded. "Not at all, my boy. It -is- part of a design, but not a trap. You like, Ulfarr, no? You've become fast friends, if I'm correct."
Loops grimaced and embarrassment both scrunched and reddened his features. "I don't like-like him," He established firmly, "I don't like boys like you." He didn't like girls, either, but that was neither here nor there. Other people were nasty. "But yes, he's my friend, and if it's not a trap then I'm glad. I don't want him to die."
"I'm well aware of that," Gunnar noted, "Which is why, when all this is over, he will join us, and you will be able to build on your friendship. By extending my hand to him, I have ensured that you will suffer no loss. I know you've been agonizing over it. You no longer have to be caught between us."
Loops' melancholy had absolutely evaporated -- he leaned forward with both hands clutched on the edge of the desk, eyes and mouth wide in a smile of wonder and adoration. "...that's really wise of you, Mister Gunnar -- I'm -- I'm sorry I started talking to him without your permission --"
"You can speak to whoever you like, loops, you are a free man."
The boy 's chest swelled, he was called a -man- of all things, freedom be damned. Joy burst from him such that he lunged, scrambled over the table (and sent a few of the documents flying besides) to tackle the older man with as crushing a hug as his skinny arms could manage. "You're the best! You're the best! Thank you, Mister Gunnar!"
"Please, Loops, I only --"
"No, I mean it! This is the best thing that has happened in a long time! I promise I'll repay you for it! I'll use Bobo and Lobo to do whatever you want, no matter what it is!"
Gunnar lifted a hand to give the boy a few pats on the back, and was glad that the lad could not see the savage satisfaction and triumph in his nigh bestial grin. "I would like that very much, Loops. Very much indeed."
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