[Oh, an important sister; that only makes Carver think of Marian, and while he's not, like. It isn't that he doesn't miss her, but he also doesn't not miss her? It's nuanced.
Still, he nods, because he understands that fundamental feeling of protecting the people who mean the most, if nothing else.]
Right. I know what you mean. My sister Bethany-- from the, uh, thing-- she's always telling me I don't have to do everything.
[But he really, honestly does, is the implication! Of course he does!]
[The place is technically in Carver's name, if only because he went by the Embassy first, but all the better to keep his sister safe if they share a living space. Pure logic!]
We're both used to more crowded conditions than this place, so it works out. Everyone gets their own room, and everything.
And she does not consider it a restriction upon her freedom?
[Interesting. Ravus wonders if Lunafreya would feel the same. Here, she could be allowed to live as she pleased, and that might not include her over-protective brother hovering about. But it is encouraging, to hear that another pair of siblings have made such an arrangement work. For the short time they've been here, at least.]
Is it you two alone, or have you others in your household?
What? No. Trust me, she's having a great time in this place.
[The specific reasons why aren't his to tell, he thinks-- Bethany's business and how much she enjoys having her own room in a house with her brother compared to where she'd been before, she could explain that herself one day. But he says it frankly: no, of course not, he's not her keeper.]
My other sister-- she's not here, but one of her friends from home is. He comes around sometimes. That's all of us.
[A relief, to hope that in spite of its strangeness, this place might offer a change for his sister's happiness.]
There are a number of others from my star here. I have been assigned to board with one of them, though he is at least one of the more tolerable of them.
[They keep walking through the city towards Carver's bar.]
Have you 'synced' with any others yet? I wonder how much we must learn of one another to achieve it.
[Hopefully they can at least afford a drink with their conversation.]
[Mostly for drink money, ironically enough. He shrugs-- that's all he's bothered to get into so far; his actual twin sister being here has provided enough daily hugs and the benefits of already knowing everything about her, so... that family sync rules. They get by.]
Some people think it goes faster if you know someone better, but I haven't run any tests.
[Frankly that sounds a little awkward... Holding hands for drink money is, comparatively, just fine.]
[All Ravus has done is gotten himself into a fight that ended with kissing. He's managed to get by with that, but it's obvious to him that he needs to form more and greater alliances.]
I suppose we can clasp hands if the talking does not earn us currents enough for a drink.
[It is not ideal, but they can suffer through it for the sweet release of alcohol.]
[Holding hands is like, baby stuff, so whatever. He'll do it! If Ravus needs to go lurk in a dark corner so no one can see them, or something, he'll still do it, but he will also make comments.
[The fact that the prospect of hand holding is such a non-issue for Carver makes it slightly less embarrassing for Ravus to consider. He needs no dark corner, but he will exhaust their other option first.]
You could say so. I prefer swords to guns. They are a far more refined weapon. I do not feel the need to amass a whole arsenal of them, like some Eosians do. [Those damned Lucians and their Armiger.] My sword is a means to an end, and I need but one, so long as I wield it properly.
[There's a freedom is speaking to someone entirely removed from his world's politics. He has no need to censor himself in front of Carver.]
And you?
[Those arms look like they could heft a greatsword with ease.]
[A whole arsenal of swords makes him scoff, halfway amused-- it sounds like it'd be cool on paper and stupid in practice, not that he has any idea what specifically Ravus is talking about. Carrying a whole armory around? Ridiculous, at best.]
Greatsword, [ding ding] and I like to think I know how to handle it. Smaller swords just don't do it for me.
[Just look at him, he'd be wasted on an ordinary sword. Even a broadsword! Go huge or go home.]
Don't call me ineloquent again for this, but-- What's a gun?
[It could be a little bit of both, the mystery makes it fun--]
Bombs-- yeah. [Magic ones, in particular, on the Large Scale. He frowns, trying to fathom how a bomb could be a personal weapon in any sense of the word.] Not... really all that refined, no.
Guns are a pipe with a tiny bomb inside that blasts a bit of metal out toward a target. [Or something like that, Ravus is no weapons engineer.] It is like a crossbow that requires even less skill to use.
[Just know that guns are the weapons for people who can't use a real weapon, Carver.]
I know a guy who'd have your neck for saying that about crossbows.
[Shout out to Varric, wherever he may be... may he turn in his sleep over this shit talking of guns n' crossbows, because,] But you're not wrong about the skill thing.
[Swords... are just better. He considers the bonkers mental image of carrying around a pipe that shoots tiny bomb things, then,]
[Haha inefficient weapon, take that, Varric! He'll remember this for if Varric ever turns up in the city-- which, incidentally, would be mortifying, but at least he'll have - ironically - ammo.]
A few people. Haven't met up with any of them yet, though. Sooner or later, unless something happens...
[Because the other shoe will surely drop, he's sure of it. But until then.]
I have one so far, to keep myself in practice. I may offer lessons to the prince of my world. He would benefit from an instructor who is disinclined to coddle him.
[The others would protest that accusation, but Ravus has seen how disgustingly fond they are of Noctis.]
Even if there's no use for it here, we will need our skills honed for when we return home.
[Idly asked, but honestly curious; maybe he's been paranoid, but there's always something... Someone always gets comfortable. Makes a mistake. He'd rather it not be him.
It definitely does sound paranoid when he thinks about it like that, but ehh...]
Huh. [That's not suspicious at all! Except that it completely is, because people just fight, in his experience; there's no such thing as total peace 100% of the time, so either the government is grinding its heel into the people here, or the dire circumstances are about to explode anyway.
That, and a friendly swordfight never hurt anybody. Emotionally. Probably. But great: another place where he can't do the one thing he's good at because somebody will get sensitive about it.]
Well, thanks. I'll keep it under wraps as best I can. Maybe find a cave somewhere and bang on the walls for training.
[The bar, at last, with its big neon beer mug sign above the door, which is the only way Carver knows how to find it. He leads the way in and heads for a table; the decor is dark-with-neon, even in the middle of the afternoon.]
[This is the kind of place Ravus would normally never even consider stepping foot in. But he doesn't know where to find any classier establishments, and he could really use a drink, so it will have to do.]
You could say that.
[He looks around and selects the least offensive booth in which to seat himself. It is clean, at least.
He does not have his network device to check his balance of credits. Hopefully he's got enough from his previous interactions and small talk with Carver, else he'll spend his evening washing dishes.]
[Honestly, it could be a lot rougher before Carver really felt at home, but it has the advantage of being somewhere he remembers from the very first few days here, so it's become default. He waves down a waitress for a digitized menu, poking at it with all the finesse of someone who knows, like, two tablet gestures and only by accident.]
This blue thing— Here.
[He holds it up, showing the handy picture of some kind of glowing blue cocktail with a ridiculous name. It's blue and it glows, is the draw.]
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sonoftenebrae) wrote2021-02-01 10:16 pm
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Still, he nods, because he understands that fundamental feeling of protecting the people who mean the most, if nothing else.]
Right. I know what you mean. My sister Bethany-- from the, uh, thing-- she's always telling me I don't have to do everything.
[But he really, honestly does, is the implication! Of course he does!]
You get it.
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Of course. A brother's duty cannot be shirked.
[Not even if a sister protests about her destiny and her choices.]
Are the two of you living together, or do you reside in different dorms?
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[The place is technically in Carver's name, if only because he went by the Embassy first, but all the better to keep his sister safe if they share a living space. Pure logic!]
We're both used to more crowded conditions than this place, so it works out. Everyone gets their own room, and everything.
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[Interesting. Ravus wonders if Lunafreya would feel the same. Here, she could be allowed to live as she pleased, and that might not include her over-protective brother hovering about. But it is encouraging, to hear that another pair of siblings have made such an arrangement work. For the short time they've been here, at least.]
Is it you two alone, or have you others in your household?
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[The specific reasons why aren't his to tell, he thinks-- Bethany's business and how much she enjoys having her own room in a house with her brother compared to where she'd been before, she could explain that herself one day. But he says it frankly: no, of course not, he's not her keeper.]
My other sister-- she's not here, but one of her friends from home is. He comes around sometimes. That's all of us.
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[A relief, to hope that in spite of its strangeness, this place might offer a change for his sister's happiness.]
There are a number of others from my star here. I have been assigned to board with one of them, though he is at least one of the more tolerable of them.
[They keep walking through the city towards Carver's bar.]
Have you 'synced' with any others yet? I wonder how much we must learn of one another to achieve it.
[Hopefully they can at least afford a drink with their conversation.]
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[Mostly for drink money, ironically enough. He shrugs-- that's all he's bothered to get into so far; his actual twin sister being here has provided enough daily hugs and the benefits of already knowing everything about her, so... that family sync rules. They get by.]
Some people think it goes faster if you know someone better, but I haven't run any tests.
[Frankly that sounds a little awkward... Holding hands for drink money is, comparatively, just fine.]
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[All Ravus has done is gotten himself into a fight that ended with kissing. He's managed to get by with that, but it's obvious to him that he needs to form more and greater alliances.]
I suppose we can clasp hands if the talking does not earn us currents enough for a drink.
[It is not ideal, but they can suffer through it for the sweet release of alcohol.]
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[Holding hands is like, baby stuff, so whatever. He'll do it! If Ravus needs to go lurk in a dark corner so no one can see them, or something, he'll still do it, but he will also make comments.
Until then.]
Well, keep talking, I guess. You like swords?
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You could say so. I prefer swords to guns. They are a far more refined weapon. I do not feel the need to amass a whole arsenal of them, like some Eosians do. [
Those damned Lucians and their Armiger.] My sword is a means to an end, and I need but one, so long as I wield it properly.[There's a freedom is speaking to someone entirely removed from his world's politics. He has no need to censor himself in front of Carver.]
And you?
[Those arms look like they could heft a greatsword with ease.]
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Greatsword, [ding ding] and I like to think I know how to handle it. Smaller swords just don't do it for me.
[Just look at him, he'd be wasted on an ordinary sword. Even a broadsword! Go huge or go home.]
Don't call me ineloquent again for this, but-- What's a gun?
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Educating yourself is not an endeavor I would scorn. Does your world have cannons? Bombs?
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Bombs-- yeah. [Magic ones, in particular, on the Large Scale. He frowns, trying to fathom how a bomb could be a personal weapon in any sense of the word.] Not... really all that refined, no.
That's guns?
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[Just know that guns are the weapons for people who can't use a real weapon, Carver.]
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[Shout out to Varric, wherever he may be... may he turn in his sleep over this shit talking of guns n' crossbows, because,] But you're not wrong about the skill thing.
[Swords... are just better. He considers the bonkers mental image of carrying around a pipe that shoots tiny bomb things, then,]
Sounds like a mess.
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[Ravus is sending this lad into the world with a wildly inaccurate understanding of firearms and he's not even sorry.]
Did you end up with sparring partners from your post? [At least there are plenty of people here who recognize what the right weapon is.]
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A few people. Haven't met up with any of them yet, though. Sooner or later, unless something happens...
[Because the other shoe will surely drop, he's sure of it. But until then.]
You?
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[The others would protest that accusation, but Ravus has seen how disgustingly fond they are of Noctis.]
Even if there's no use for it here, we will need our skills honed for when we return home.
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[Idly asked, but honestly curious; maybe he's been paranoid, but there's always something... Someone always gets comfortable. Makes a mistake. He'd rather it not be him.
It definitely does sound paranoid when he thinks about it like that, but ehh...]
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[Which Ravus considers preposterous, but apparently this world has less demonic infestations that must be repelled.]
That is not to say it might not become necessary. But exercise caution when you train, lest you offend our peace-loving hosts.
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That, and a friendly swordfight never hurt anybody. Emotionally. Probably. But great: another place where he can't do the one thing he's good at because somebody will get sensitive about it.]
Well, thanks. I'll keep it under wraps as best I can. Maybe find a cave somewhere and bang on the walls for training.
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[Ravus is scrutinizing this man's training regimen in a major way. What good is banging on walls? And in a cave??]
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[The bar, at last, with its big neon beer mug sign above the door, which is the only way Carver knows how to find it. He leads the way in and heads for a table; the decor is dark-with-neon, even in the middle of the afternoon.]
Hell of a place, huh?
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You could say that.
[He looks around and selects the least offensive booth in which to seat himself. It is clean, at least.
He does not have his network device to check his balance of credits. Hopefully he's got enough from his previous interactions and small talk with Carver, else he'll spend his evening washing dishes.]
What do you drink?
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This blue thing— Here.
[He holds it up, showing the handy picture of some kind of glowing blue cocktail with a ridiculous name. It's blue and it glows, is the draw.]
It tastes alright.
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