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[theirondragon]

Who: The Iron Bull & You!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: HS Marsiva, SS Heron, SS Iskaulit and beyond!
When: 4/30-5/4 (Marsiva and that broadcast), 5/5 for the Heron, anytime in the month of May for the rest!

↨ Arrival aboard the Marsiva/his first week ↨

[Before the seven foot, heavily muscled and grey-skinned (which is obvious due to the fact he isn't wearing a shirt)...man with exceptionally prominent horns stirs on the plush bed on the Hospitality Deck, he sniffs and immediately frowns.]

Weird.

[His voice is a deep, slow baritone, with a slight accent that's difficult to place. The transmission is coming from his blind side, though, which is obvious by the eye-patch over where his left eye should be.

He hasn't noticed the camera. He moves to a sitting position, large hands on the edges of the bed and sniffs again, this time himself. And then he snorts.]

Weirder.

[He shakes his head (which is impressive with those horns) as though to clear and stands, giving a look around. To say the big guy looks uneasy is an understatement...and then he notices the huge viewing bay.

It's hard to say what's more disturbing to the giant: the idea that he somehow knows he's drifting through the fast openness of existence, or the simple act of looking at it, but he swallows. Hard. And turns away from the window, taking a seat back on the cot, which creaks slightly but holds.]

...shit. That's...a lot of nothing out there.

[Right out there. Through some glass. Shit.]

(OOC: If you want to just continue the TDM thread, that's cool! Just let me know, and you're totally free to PM this journal)

↨ Arrival aboard the SS Heron, Bridge | Saturday (5/05) ↨

[You know, it's one thing to keep a guy locked up on some weird ship after you kidnapped him, shoved something in his head, and gave him a bath. It's another to randomly move him to some other place surrounded by consoles and glowing lights, shower him with confetti, and just leave him there. Without a warning.

The Bull was a massive form to suddenly appear on the bridge of the SS Heron, and the startled cry and step back did nothing but rap his horns sharply against whatever delicate instrument was behind him at the time and send a painful vibration through his skull.]

Shit! [He took a heavy breath to calm his rising panic. It's fine. No weirder than what was out there.] Tight quarters in here. [The remark was muttered to himself for than anything as he carefully moved a hand to the top of his head to massage away the beginnings of a headache and gave a look around.]

Wherever the hell here is. [He could only assume it was one of the ships in the fleet, but which one? He'd been told there were several of them.]

↨ SS Iskaulit | OTA and Whenever ↨

[He couldn't be more relieved to know this ship existed. Getting there was weird, just knowing how to fly the shuttle, and if he thought about that too much he started to get real twitchy, so he decided to just think of the thing in his head as...like knowing where to aim a swing to take off a guy's head in one blow. You didn't think about where to swing. You just did and off it popped. Yeah. Flying the shuttle was like that.

Bullshit, but it was enough of a comfort to keep him sane, at least for a little while. Now this place? It was going to take a lot of exploration to really get a feel for it. It was almost possible, wandering the random collections of establishments, to ignore the fact that this was all in a giant ship floating in the middle of space. He wasn't difficult to spot, at 7'5" tall and at least three feet wide (with some really impressive horns), and as he gets more acquainted with the fleet over the course of the month, between travelling to planets and whatnot, he'll be found here on off-hours more often than not. You know, if he's not enjoying the fact that there's actual air somewhere.

He can be encountered at a number of establishments throughout, actually, though being the only naturally occurring mountain in a place that's completely fabricated, he steers clear Maab's Sceptre...because there's just something not right about that thing. Maybe it's because it's the only thing around that is right, but...yeah. Space Bar's a nice dive, and he's there pretty often, willing to chat up anyone to walks in, and share a drink...or a few...more. The smells from the Melting Pot get his attention, too, and something other than the fake crap on the Heron is always welcome.]

↨ Wildcard ↨

(OOC: Want to do a thing that isn't here? Awesome! Drop me a line through PM, at vikael, or on Discord at prettyvikael#0221! I will most likely be doing some stuff with the system and I'd love to plot something out with people! Otherwise, I'll probably throw him at other peoples' things!)

Comments

[perservering]

[ She listens as she finishes making the cocoa. She pours it into two mugs, because of course she's going to have some, too, and takes them over to the table and gives him one. ]

I don't have any whipped cream or marshmallows, sorry.

[ She takes a seat and sips hers. The orange is there, but it's subtle. It's actually pretty nice, especially if she doesn't think too much about how it got there. ]

It's not stupid. It's the same kind of energy, just too unpredictable to really be able to do anything with it. That's how I understand it, anyway. Making the kind you can actually use takes a lot of work and equipment.

[ Equipment that's all but disappeared. Or is way too noisy to use safely anymore. Her actual functional level of tech is probably on par with The Iron Bull's now. If not lower, as this is new for them. ]

Speaking of words, does every Qunari have a name like yours?

[theirondragon]

It smells perfect, ma'am.

[And he takes a few, precious moments to savor that hot cocoa before he responds to anything she's said. He listens, of course, he's always been a good listener, but it's been too long since he's had good chocolate not to enjoy it as much as possible.

He nods though. Electricity sounds...sort of like some of the things Vints used to power their elevators and stuff like that, uh...storm magic or something. He tried not to think about it too much. He chuckles at her question, though.]

Like "The Iron Bull?" No. [And he shakes his head.] I picked it. We don't really have names, under the Qun. Just...job descriptions. Sometimes we get...nicknames that highlight particular talents. When I was a kid, my Tama called me Ashkaari. It means "one who thinks". I've always been good at that. [He rolls a shoulder in a shrug.] When I was with the Ben-Hassrath, I was Hissrad. It means "liar". [And he makes a motion with his hand.] I was a spy.

Now? [He smiles again, and there's something...more there. Not quite sadness, he wouldn't change the outcome, but...apprehension? Maybe definitely uncertainty.] I'm just The Iron Bull. I was pretending to be a Tal-Vashoth mercenary. Then...I saved my boys, sacrificed a Qunari ship to do it, and...stopped pretending.

[He takes a breath, letting it out slowly.] "Tal-Vashoth" is a Qunari who's left the Qun. They call it a betrayal. A lot of Qunari died when I saved my boys, so...I guess it was. And I'd do it again.

[perservering]

[ Carol sips her cocoa and listens as he explains. It's a lot of words she doesn't recognize, and she tries to grab tight to the things that sound familiar. Luckily, it seems as if he's used to explaining things about his culture to the ignorant. ]

So is the Qun.. a religion?

[ It sounds more like a cult, but saying as much seems rude. She might not be a Christian anymore, but she still can get touchy when people make assumptions about the faith. ]

They wanted you to sacrifice your children?

[theirondragon]

[After taking a long sip from his cocoa, shit it's good, he hisses through his teeth.]

It's...Qunari means People of the Qun. It's a...philosophy, a culture, something sort of like a nation...it's huge. Religion? Nah. That suggests they worship something. The Qun is...a united body. Every one who is a part of the Qun is like...a nerve in your spine. They all connect to a specific thing, are honed for a specific purpose, but they're all part of the whole, of you. [He takes another sip of his cocoa trying to think of how to better explain.] If a part of your body's sick, right, like with gangrene, you amputate. That's what the Qun does with parts that stop performing their role, who go Tal-Vashoth.

Like me. [But he blinks at her question...before he laughs Hard.] Shit, no! I was never chosen for breeding anyway, but I wouldn't know my kids if I had. [And that idea doesn't seem to bother him.] I'm the captain of a mercenary band: Bull's Chargers. [He grins for a second because he's still proud of that.] They're my boys. [And he scoffs.] And fuck if I don't miss every one of 'em.

[perservering]

[Chosen for breeding what the hell? ]

So it's more of a... like a really comprehensive... political system? Like Soviet Communism or something?

[ She sighs a little and shakes her head before smiling apologetically. ]

Sorry, you probably don't have any idea what that is. But I get you about your boys, now. Like what a coach calls their team.

[ She sips her cocoa. ]

And saving them is what made the rest of your people decide you were like a limb with gangrene, huh? Sounds like you're better off without them anyway.

[theirondragon]

It's...everything. Like I said, it's hard to explain. [That's the second time he's heard about Communism, though. He's going to have to look into this one.]

Yeah, I guess. We're a pretty tight-knit group, anyway. [He smiles, bittersweet.] You know...I got real used to the Qun being far away. I got sloppy. And...for some reason, it never occurred to me they'd... [He takes a breath.] ...you're right. I am...I think. Yeah.

[perservering]

It's hard to get used to that, I bet. After somebody else was running your whole life for so long, to finally have to make all those choices on your own.

[ Sort of like when Ed finally died. The mix of bone-deep relief, even joy, but also the fear that she was all on her own, now. And then how quickly she lost Sophia after that. And then her faith. Probably safest to talk about that last one. ]

I used to be religious. A Christian. It wasn't just going to church on Sundays, not for me. It was how I got through each and every day. How I understood the world, because the Bible had all the answers. But then my questions changed, and the answers didn't. They didn't have answers to fit the new questions I had.

[ She looks at her cocoa. ]

It's not the same. But that gap... I don't know if there is a way to fill it or if I just have to get used to it.

[theirondragon]

There are choices under the Qun, but...yeah. Not about who you are, where you go.

[He listened to her words. He's known a lot of religious people recently in that exact same boat. Hell, they were so desperate for an answer, they decided to make someone beatific just to make themselves feel better. She wasn't divine any more than he was, but they needed it.]

We...they...I guess me too, still. I don't have to be Qunari to feel this way...we don't have gods, or anything like that. Demons are real, sure, magic's a thing. Those are real because we've seen them, felt them. We don't need a god to tell us where to go, what to do, who to impress and who to lock up. They do what's right for the people and...our people. What's best for the group. The group's changed, but...I guess...Qunari aren't raised in families, but...that's because...shit... [He chuckles. This is the first time he's really voiced it, really thought it through, and suddenly a lot of things are falling into place for him.] ...it's just a really big family. It's...more complicated, and probably not what you'd call a family but...yeah. Your roll in the group doesn't have to change just because the group does, right? What did the Bible tell you when you listened to it?

[perservering]

[ Carol follows his train of thought as best as she can, although it's becoming clear that neither really has the language to understand each other. ]

When I believed in God, the Bible explained the nature of God to me. That everything happens for a reason. There's a big plan and all the suffering that you can endure is leading to something, although you probably won't see any of the benefit until you're dead and in Heaven. Also if you're a woman you need to submit to your husband. If he's violent you can help lead him to God by being a good example and then maybe he'll... settle.

[ This got way more personal than she was ready to get. ]

Too much shit happened to keep believing in that kind of thing.

[theirondragon]

Bull's never tried to wrap his head around southern religion. In the Qun, they're taught that those who blindly follow the will of some supreme deity so do because they are too weak and lost to believe in something broader than themselves, that they are a part of something whole and without divine intervention.

After living around a bunch of people who believed in a supreme being for a long time, he's come to realize a lot of people use the Maker a lot like the Qunari use the Qun: it's just a way to rationalize something they aren't able to understand without it.

But everyone has a personal truth, and a place they feel they fit, he's starting to get that, and maybe the reason they've become so confused is that he and Carol are both in the midst of figuring out what that means.]

Shit has a way of doing that, yeah. You know, the Qun, the Maker, this God guy...maybe what they are isn't important. Maybe...it's what they help us find that matters.

[perservering]

Yeah, maybe.

[ She thinks it over for a while. Sure, she found some kind of peace in her religion. But was it a good thing? Or did it just convince her to keep putting up with shit she should have walked away from. Tricking her into enduring intolerable things because some force beyond her understanding wanted her to suffer for some reason it didn't bother to explain to anybody.

The more she thinks about it, the worse it is. ]

Or they give us easy answers to hard questions. Convince us to stop looking because it's more comfortable to recite things from memory than actually think it through ourselves. Life's a lot easier when you don't have to make any choices for yourself. That way if things go bad, it's not your fault. It's ... God's will or whatever.

[theirondragon]

Even if something's giving you all the answers, you still make choices, ma'am.

[He'd had to make some damned hard ones, even before...that last one.]

You got something harder to put in this cocoa? Sounds like we're going to need it where this is going.

[perservering]

[ Carol looks at her cup, already mostly done, and then looks up with a soft sort of smile. ]

Why don't we save that for next time? You've had enough big shocks in one day. Don't want to get too deep into the whole existential dread discussion until you've had a chance to settle in.

[theirondragon]

[ He chuckles, but he appreciates it and the sentiment behind it. ]

You got a deal, ma'am.