INBOX ;

[tadpoled]

“Ah, this is Tav. Kindly leave your message.”

voice ; text ; action;

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[cozen]

[ Not much better than getting a laugh. Bastien grins at him and turns his attention back to his meal, halfway. ]

What was it like? Where you are from—similar enough to this? Blue sky, green plans, brown dirt?

[ You never know. But those seem to be commonalities, at least. ]

[tadpoled]

Mostly, yes. There is a place I’ve been where you exist among the stars. It’s strange.

[A shrug.] But yes mostly dirt brown, grass green, sky blue.

[cozen]

Among the stars–like in a ship? A space ship?

[ He's heard of those, although until seeing glimpses of rifter worlds himself he was not fully convinced they weren't a prank some of the rifters got together and agreed to pull on everyone else. ]

[tadpoled]

What’s a spaceship?

[Tav tilts his head to the side.]

We walked on chunks of rock in the stars. It was very odd.

[cozen]

That is odd. But not as odd, I think, as the—

[ He unhands his spoon and uses both hands to try to illustrate with gestures in the air as he talks. ]

Where some of our rifters are from they have ships made of metal, enclosed all around, because there is no air to breathe and people might float away. And they have—I don't understand how it works. But they have machines attached that push them forward, so they can sail through the sky, beyond the sky, until the whole world is a little speck behind them and eventually vanishes like an island left behind at sea.

[ His hands come back down to the table, his head back down to the earth. ]

We don't have them. We don't even have, uh, [ he snaps to himself to help recall the word, ] engines. And maybe our space is nothing like their space. Maybe it is like yours and we would walk on rocks. That sounds a little like the Crossroads.

[tadpoled]

[Tav watches the demonstration with great interest but most of it goes right over his head.]

Maybe it is like yours. I’m not sure how we could access it without a wizard.

[cozen]

Oh, and that is the best part, [ regains some of the same energy as his gesture-filled explanation, like a post script. ] In these worlds they did it all without magic.

[ Post script over. He tightens up again, reins the enthusiasm back in to standard happy-to-be-getting-to-know-someone levels. ]

Mais de toute façon. Have you always slept outside, or was it some kind of adventure?

[tadpoled]

[Tav mouths the word ‘how’ as he leans back in his seat. But then there’s thr question that touches on the subject of memory that makes Tav nervous.]

I… don’t know. I don’t have a lot of memories from before waking up on a beach alone.

[cozen]

Oh. Well, that is interesting.

[ Amnesia! Just like in stories. Maybe Tav is a castaway prince. ]

Was that very long ago?

[tadpoled]

I suppose it is.

[Oh if Bastien only knee.]

A month, maybe two or three. I’ve gotten some memories back, but they aren’t particularly pleasant.

[cozen]

[ Bastien inclines his head to one side, considering that while he chews through the gristle in some of his stew meat. His gaze is searching and curious. Of course he'd like to pry. But after he swallows, he doesn't ask. ]

One or two or three months–so in a way, you are kind of a baby.

[tadpoled]

[Tav grins again; he's growing to like Bastien and his sense of humor.]

Seems I am. Albeit quite an unruly baby.

[cozen]

In my experience, 'unruly' is the main kind of baby.

[ Not that he hangs out with a lot of infants. But a few, now and again. ]

I would ask how you could possibly be worse, but, you know. Word gets around. [ He knows about the murder thing. But he's not here to talk about it, so he doesn't let the statement linger before moving on. ] So, d'accord, one to three months. What have you learned you enjoy?

[tadpoled]

[Word gets around. Tav's heart clenches for a moment, but he reminds himself that Bastien has talked with him as a person, not a monster, this entire time. They've laughed together as if Tav weren't a horrible excuse of an elf who destroyed others and caused panic in Baldur's Deep.

He sucks in a breath and then releases it.] I enjoy plants and my magic allows them to grow in difficult terrain. I like my companions, even the difficult ones. I've also realized I don't like diplomacy. I always seem to say the wrong thing in tense situations.

[He taps his left cheek, just below his left eye.]

[cozen]

[ Staring at or asking about the eye would have been rude, before, but that tap seems like permission. Bastien looks at it, blank and white, and raises his eyebrows. ]

That’s failed diplomacy?

[tadpoled]

Tried negotiating with a hag. [Tav leans back in his chair again.] I would not recommend it.

[cozen]

You cannot say something like that and not tell me the story.

tw: some eye gore

[tadpoled]

[Tav can't help but smirk at Bastien's enthusiasm.]

We were trying to make a deal for her help and I volunteered to pay the price. She had these long fingers and plucked my eye right out of the socket. She said she kissed it and put it back, but it's now got this film over it. Can't see out of it any more.

[Tav shrugs.] I probably should have consulted with my companions first, but at the time I barely knew them. And I suppose this was their first clue that I make terrible decisions.

[cozen]

[ Laughing a little, ]

No shit?

[ He leans over the table, squinting, to try to get a better look at the eye. He'd assumed it was glass. A handful of people in Riftwatch have glass eyes these days. Filmy and hag-kissed, though— ]

And when you say hag, you mean...?

[ Long eye-plucking fingers goes a bit beyond insult for an old woman who may or may not be a hedge witch. ]

[tadpoled]

A witch of sorts, who lives in a bog. Long fingers, ready to pluck your eyes out.

[Tav doesn’t notice Bastien leaning in closer on his left side at first. Not until he enters the scope of his right eye. Then, he flicks both over to Bastien.]

It’s a rather permanent reminder to not negotiate with hags.

[cozen]

I will try to remember you if I ever run into one.

[tadpoled]

[Tav smiles wider; he feels relaxed, welcomed, like he could tell Bastien the craziest story and still be met with understanding.

He clears his throat and glances down at the table for a moment before turning his gaze back up to Bastien.]

If I met myself in the wild on a bad night, I’d run away just as fast.

[cozen]

Ah ouias. Handsome elves.

[ His tone is observational and facetiously wise, like yes, of course, who wouldn't run from that. ]

A common phobia.

[tadpoled]

[The heat of attraction burns through Tav’s chest before be tamps down on it. He’s just lonely and misses Gale; to indulge would be a mistake, especially with the secret he’s about to indulge.]

I don’t quite— [Fuck. This is harder than he thought. What if Bastien immediately runs? They seem to almost be friends and revealing this could ruin this.]

I’m a murderer. Or I am on bad nights. I kill without rhyme or reason.

[His shoulders tighten.]

I am the son of the god of murder where I’m from and was a prolific killer until my memories were erased.

[cozen]

[ If Bastien hadn't been forewarned about the first part—if he hadn't been asked to come be friendly specifically because of the first part—he might have more trouble controlling his face.

But he was forewarned. So when Tav says I'm a murderer, he's already lifting his eyebrows and his chin, preparing to give a little nod and say that he knows. And it's a simple enough thing to keep his pleasant smile unaffected by the second part, since it's already in place. ]

Oh.

[ The smile twitches. Not because it wants to turn into a terrified frown. More because he's about to say something stupid, and he isn't very much trying to hide the fact that he's only teasing before he nods. ]

Just like my uncle Herle.