[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.]
[But Ravus isn't any more inclined to deal with the device than Carver is, so he clicks on the blue monstrosity. Phones and such exist in his world, but his people prefer the more time-honored methods of communications.]
But when in Accordo, do as the Accordans do. Strange cocktails oft have more of a kick than you'd expect.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sonoftenebrae) wrote2021-02-01 10:16 pm
no subject
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?
no subject
[Just know that guns are the weapons for people who can't use a real weapon, Carver.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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?
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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...]
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[Ravus is scrutinizing this man's training regimen in a major way. What good is banging on walls? And in a cave??]
no subject
[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?
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
[But Ravus isn't any more inclined to deal with the device than Carver is, so he clicks on the blue monstrosity. Phones and such exist in his world, but his people prefer the more time-honored methods of communications.]
But when in Accordo, do as the Accordans do. Strange cocktails oft have more of a kick than you'd expect.