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[Seeing that Arenvald has taken care of the branch, Connor keeps hold of the lily pad and attempts to heft himself up on it. It's not a particularly elegant display, and for a minute it looks precarious judging by the way the plants wants to tilt with the weight... but with a stubborn effort, Connor manages to slip himself back up on their makeshift raft.

He's very drenched. Clothes sticking to his form, hair a mess. Water dripping from his chin as he leans forward and stretches out an arm to help Arenvald.]

Seems to be the growing trend. Here, let me help you.

[The tension sure has drained, as if dissolving the moment they hit the water.]

[ Whatever it is that Arenvald's war paint is made out of, it's at least somewhat waterproof. It stays in place instead of streaking off with the rivulets of water that run down his face.

The branch he slides onto the surface of the lily pad, leaving him free to take Connor's arm to haul himself back up. It's still somewhat tricky, the lily pad wobbling in the water, but at last he makes it. He, too, is soaked to the bone, his white t-shirt gone almost sheer as it sticks to his skin. He laughs as he plops back down to a sit, splaying with his legs in front of him, his hands supporting him as he leans back. ]

Thanks. I say we count ourselves lucky we didn't get dragged under for our troubles.

[Connor grasps for the branch so it doesn’t roll off in the undulating pitch of the lily pad as they right themselves. Knowing that his friend is now situated properly next to him, he almost scoffs.]

We hardly did anything worthy of being tipped into the water at all. The mermaids seem to require very little provocation.

[Connor runs a hand through messy hair to move wayward strands away, which of course just makes it end up looking worse, sticking out at strange angles. Beneath his own jacket, he wears a white shirt, gone as sheer as Arenvald’s.

A glance at his friend and he realizes the state of the man's clothes. Revealing. His eyes linger just for a second, but given that it’s not… anything he hasn’t seen before, and in more embarrassing circumstances, Connor doesn’t make a comment.]

I’m starting to wish I owned more than one uniform.

[ This is not the first time Arenvald has seen Connor looking so disheveled, but now it's as if he's looking at him under a completely different lens. He cannot help the way he stares, just for a moment, at how his drenched clothes cling, the hints of what's underneath that jacket given at just the right angles.

Ironically, he is perhaps too distracted to notice Connor's eyes lingering on him, in return. Only when Connor speaks again does he snap back to reality, eyes sliding away to some nebulous spot on the lily pad. ]

Ah... Whenever we next leave the temple, we can see about some new clothes for you, I'm sure.

But, once we get to shore, I can dry those off for you, if you want.

[Connor notes the lingering glance, enough to where it’s registered as interesting, but easily explained away as Arenvald never seeing him in such a state. Connor often makes the effort to not appear as anything more than perfectly put-together.]

That’s not necessary, though I appreciate the offer.

[He attempts to stand, dipping the branch into the water.]

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to dry my clothes, after all.

[ Arenvald stays where he is, finally trusting himself to look back at Connor once he moves away to resume ferrying them around. ]

Just keep it in mind. It’s good practice for my abilities, and I can usually manage it pretty quickly.

[ Arenvald Lentinus, human clothes dryer. ]

[A little jokingly:]

I imagine you have better things to do than stand directly next to me while my clothes dry.

Besides, I’ll need a mirror for my hair.

[Yep, ever wanting to appear perfect.]

Well. I don’t have anything better to do today.

[ A joke! He grins up at Connor. ]

You mean it just doesn’t style itself?

Usually, no. I need to tend to it like regular hair.

[“Usually” because sometimes it just falls into place if he transitions from his true android form into his more human-looking version. Don’t ask because his canon is stupid.]

You can always comb it for me, though, if you’re inclined to be so helpful, Arenvald.

You’ve seen how I do my own hair, which is to say that I don’t.

[ He waves a hand at the mess of bangs hanging low over his brows. ]

I’m not so sure you want me to take you up on that offer.

I see. With a recommendation like that, then I suppose not.

[The air is lighter than before, the tension obviously drained away if Connor is making ever-so-subtle teases. He lets that settle, and diverts them close to shore.

Still, there’s only so long one can go without the shadow of the conversation hanging over their heads. And while there is a sense of moving on, of what needed to be said having been said, there’s still one last request — what he was going to say before the mermaids knocked them in.]

By the way, I was... interrupted before. I just wanted to ask that you keep our conversation just now private. Please.

[ Of course that unfinished statement would have to be brought up again – there’s no way it wouldn’t be. Arenvald almost regrets the return to their earlier conversation, even necessary as it is.

While the mood doesn’t settle as heavily as before, Arenvald definitely sobers a bit. ]

Of course. It’s not my place to share that sort of thing, anyroad. Only you can do that, and only if you want to.

[He nods. And blessedly, perhaps because Connor doesn’t want to linger on the implications of their conversation for much longer, he doesn’t delve deeper into it than that.]

Thank you. You’re a good friend and a good man.

[ He chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck with a hand. ]

I’m just trying my best. But… if there’s anything you ever need for any reason at all, you know you can always call me.

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