driftfleet | Tourist October Mingle

Thanks, I have enough titles already.

[He smirks.]

I think they'll let me visit, it's just been a bit too hectic to do so, what with comets coming out of nowhere and all. I'll go take a look at some point.

[A nonchalant reply but he's aching to see if that journal is still here. He didn't get much time with it before he'd gone to sleep and woke up months later on the Marsiva.]

[She nods.] Barely worth visiting before I was up anyway. Of course Vash just fell into a coma. [No, really. It was right out of a sitcom. She wakes up, he falls asleep mid-sentence.]

What, really? Well. At least he had the courtesy to wait until you were up and not leave the Roses captainless.

[Absolutely ridiculous.]

Oh, sure, courtesy. Just falling on someone's bedroom floor in your aggressively red coat.

Well you know how ridiculous Vash is.

[He feels a small pang at that. He does miss his old crew, and that feeling outweighs any misgivings about figuring out where he stands with any of them, or if he's in the doghouse, as it were, for disappearing.]

Actually, if you're not doing anything in particular, I could escort you back...?

Oh, I'm familiar. [So ridiculous! And also...surprisingly deep if you can get close enough to see it.]

Sure. That sounds so unnecessarily gallant. Let's do it. [She figures he wants to check on his stuff.] But I already told Khadgar he can't draw on Vash while he's out so I don't want to have to tell you too.

I wouldn't dream of it! Not where you could see, anyway.

[He winks and offers his arm to head towards the shuttle bay.]

And there's nothing unnecessary about being gallant, you know.

[She looks at his arm, shakes her head in amusement, but then takes it.] What I don't know about, I can't stop. [She could try harder maybe, but this feels like the right amount of effort for the task when Vash would likely do it to others.]

I think gallant died out back where I'm from. Everything became more survival-flavored.

They say something about the degeneration of the younger generations and all but I do sort of see that too where I'm from. It still exists but you get more weird looks for it than general acceptance. Maybe it's because of all the unrest, who knows. Survival does tend to take precedence over manners, as well it should.

What causes the unrest back home? I don't think I actually know much about your world.

Is everything a viable answer? Because it's true.

[He pats her hand a bit, more to comfort himself than anything as they walk.]

Blights every century or so, Templars hating mages, humans hating elves, Orlesians being Orlesian, giant cracks in the sky, ancient magisters, Elven gods trying to tear down the Veil. It's a mess.

People hating others because they're different I get. That was what did it in my world. [It being utter destruction.] What's an Orlesian? Someone from a place called Orleasia? Also, what are templars, magisters, and I'm guessing that veil isn't like a bridal thing? Wow, I really don't know much about your world.

[Wolfe chuckles.]

Not Orlesia, Orlais, and they're all about the cloak and dagger and ridiculous masks. They have this thing called the Game, which is basically where they all insult each other behind each others backs and hire assassins to repay the slight. It's ridiculous.

[He shakes his head.]

As for the Veil, it's the barrier between our world and the Fade, where demons and spirits live, and where magic comes from. Templars are the Chantry's poor attempt at curtailing magic by keeping mages locked up and Magisters are the ruling mages in Tevinter, which is another country like Orlais but with more ridiculous hats and being the poster children to validate the south's hatred of mages.

[He pauses as they enter the shuttle bay.]

That's the best explanation. I'm sure someone else could do better. Did you come here in a shuttle, or...?

Shuttle. I left my flying unicorn on the ship. [She doesn't have a flying unicorn. Certainly not a space-ready one.]

So much distinctive headwear in your world. How do you feel about magic, demons, and spirits?

Kitty, I'm a mage.

[As if that explains everything.]

Meaning you could only possibly have one sort of opinion? Trust me, I don't agree with all the mutants back home on things.

[He rolls his eyes a little but she does have a point.]

Love magic so long as its used properly, hate demons, and spirits are complicated.

See, your first response had me thinking you were pro all of those things. Do I know any demons from your world? Are any of them here? Or are they more obviously monstery? [She's been in places like this too long to even decide demon = bad. Though he does hate them. Still, she's pretty hated back home for being a mutant.]

[At first Wolfe's thoughts go directly to Justice, but Justice is still technically a spirit, if he even was a demon at all which is debatable, so. He's just gonna. Not.]

No, the only demon I know in the Fleet isn't from Thedas and he's actually pretty alright, but I've come to find that someone called a "demon" from a different world isn't necessarily a "demon" as I know them. Besides, he makes these little games for the communicators that I really enjoy. I have the high score on the unicorn one, you know.

[He relates that with some pride, and then it dawns on him that he's been out for several months and that may have changed.

He shoves his hand in his pocket in a hurry, digging for his communicator. Many beeps and boops sound from the device as he browses quickly through and then the pixelated music sounds out as he checks his score.]

What?! Second!?!

Oh, uh, Crowley? I didn't know he was a demon. I don't actually know him personally. [Just aware of him. She's seen him around. She's close to Tyrion and Tyrion works at his bar.] But yeah, there were a lot of demons in my last place and the one who was there the longest was powerful, but extremely harmless and friendly.

[She tilts her head, bemused at his reaction.] That's rough. [Getting into the shuttle and taking the pilot's seat.]

Yeah, Crowley. He's a good guy. Awful demon by my world's standards.

[He shrugs with just his shoulders, nose buried in his game. He sets himself in the passenger seat without looking, putting his feet up on the console as the tinny pixelated music of the game blares from the tiny speaker.

He is well and thoroughly distracted.]

[She glances over at him.] Wow, it's like dating Winn all over again. [Not really. As much as he loved gaming he would always choose her over a screen. He'd just sacrifice something like sleep.]

Huh?

[He doesn't look up. Look, he has to defend his high score. Also, video games are still a complete novelty for this low-tech bumpkin. Give him a break.]

Nooothing, sweetie. [No, she's never called him sweetie before.] Almost there. Good luck with the unicorns.

[She gets an affirmative grunt in response, then an earful of repetitive electronica and occasional swearing until they reach the other ship.]

Damnit, did he change the game somehow? I swear I was better at this before.

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