[ The only thing worse than sleeping on the ground would be doing it in the rain, surely. But if he sounds a little bit like he's trying to be polite about someone's bizarre hobby, it's in a friendly way. ]
[ Bastien nods approvingly while swallowing a mouthful of stew. ]
That's the way to do it. [ He points at himself with his thumb before he explains, ] Orphan, [ to make it clear he isn't lobbing the accusation at Tav. ]
[ Bastien's mouth twists in sympathy for a few silent seconds. Then he leans a few inches closer—though not close, of course, the full table still between them—and grins crookedly. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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.
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?
[ 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.
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?
[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.]
[ 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. ]
[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.
[ 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. ]
no subject
[ The only thing worse than sleeping on the ground would be doing it in the rain, surely. But if he sounds a little bit like he's trying to be polite about someone's bizarre hobby, it's in a friendly way. ]
Who is us? Your family?
no subject
[He does not mention his real family and rather avoids the topic.]
I suppose they became like real family.
no subject
That's the way to do it. [ He points at himself with his thumb before he explains, ] Orphan, [ to make it clear he isn't lobbing the accusation at Tav. ]
I'm sorry, though. You must miss them.
no subject
[Tav leans back in his chair a bit, tracing the lines on the table with his finger.]
I can only imagine what they would say about me right now.
no subject
Maybe they would be jealous of your bed.
no subject
All the luxury the Gallows can provide.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[A shrug.] But yes mostly dirt brown, grass green, sky blue.
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
[Tav tilts his head to the side.]
We walked on chunks of rock in the stars. It was very odd.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
Maybe it is like yours. I’m not sure how we could access it without a wizard.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
I… don’t know. I don’t have a lot of memories from before waking up on a beach alone.
no subject
[ Amnesia! Just like in stories. Maybe Tav is a castaway prince. ]
Was that very long ago?
no subject
[Oh if Bastien only knee.]
A month, maybe two or three. I’ve gotten some memories back, but they aren’t particularly pleasant.
no subject
One or two or three months–so in a way, you are kind of a baby.
no subject
Seems I am. Albeit quite an unruly baby.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
That’s failed diplomacy?
no subject
no subject
tw: some eye gore
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.
no subject
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. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)