expiationlogs | [Closed] go see the world cause it’s all so brand new

Med’an hasn’t lived at the inn since he first arrived in Aldrip, instead preferring to camp out in a homemade shelter just outside the village. But he still spends a lot of time there - helping the natives out, treating the last few injured at the makeshift infirmary, and grabbing dinner when he has the coin. Too, it feels nice to be around people - he’s never lived by himself before, and while he’s old enough to take care of himself just fine, it still feels a bit strange to be so independent. He’s a friendly person, and has quickly learned to recognize the regulars, natives and fellow Chosen both.

Plus, it’s not like Emet-Selch is hard to spot, with his ostentatious outfit and striped hair. Med’an gives him a little wave when he walks in, always pleased to see a familiar face…but something about the man’s expression makes him do a double-take. This seems to be an even grumpier expression than before - and maybe it’s more than just grumpy this time? He peers over at him for a few minutes, trying to decide what it is that he’s sensing. (He’s friendly, yes, but he hasn’t actually had a lot of experience reading people outside of his very small family. He can tell there’s something wrong, though.)

It’s a quiet and rainy night, and though he knows the gesture might not be appreciated, his sympathetic heart feels the need to reach out to the man. So eventually he slides out from his seat at the bar and approaches Emet-Selch, tentative but earnest.

“Are you alright?”

Edited 2023-06-30 04:45 (UTC)

The last thing Emet-Selch desires is company right now. It isn't unusual for him to ignore Med'an's attempts at greeting him but they are right in that the Ascian looks far more dour than is usual. And, although the vintage here is hardly stellar quality, Emet-Selch orders himself some wine and then occupies a table with deathly glares serving to keep all other company away.

All company except Med'an's, apparently.

"No," he says shortly, directing his baleful gaze towards them. "I'm not in the mood today. Go away."

The glare is admittedly pretty intimidating. He knows that Emet-Selch had been injured during the cultists' attack a few weeks ago; was he still feeling unwell? He could toss a quick healing spell on him, but he's not sure the man would appreciate it. He seems too sharp for Med'an to be able to do it discreetly.

Still, it's as good as an excuse as any. He straightens a little bit, trying to put on a calm and mature air. "I'm a healer. I have to check in on everyone who's recovering," he points out.

He scoffs, taking a draught of his wine. A rather long draught.

"I have no physical wounds. I do not need your fussing. Even if I did, I am capable of healing myself, you know."

"I'm still supposed to check in," he says, a little apologetically. He has no reason to doubt Emet-Selch's self-assessment, though, so he doesn't. But he will note wryly, "and being a healer doesn't mean you never need healing yourself. Also someone's taken my spot."

He glances ruefully back at the bar, where a newcomer has indeed occupied the seat Med'an was in moments before. There is now no open spaces at the bar...only at Emet-Selch's table...

"May I join you?" perhaps politeness will win the old man over. "If I don't talk?" he adds hopefully.

Emet-Selch shoots a withering look at the taken spot. Alas, if only their spot hadn't been taken, he might be left alone.

"...Fine. If you don't talk." He gestures irritably at one of the empty spots and takes another draught. There's a whole bottle yet for him to get through and the night is young.

As agreed, Med'an just nods enthusiastically in response, and quietly takes the seat next to him. And to his credit, remains quiet for several minutes. Eventually, it feels safe enough to do something other than sit; he decides that it would feel too weird to try and grab his drink from the bar - and it gets cleared away quickly anyway, the inn too busy to let abandoned glasses remain unused - so instead he just raises his hands to conjure a bottle of water.

Glancing out the window, he thinks he sees faint lights between the branches of the forest. It reminds him of the creature he'd stumbled upon a few days ago - one from his world, or near enough to it at least - and that in turn reminds him of...

"Do you know a place called Etheirys?"

Emet-Selch is pleasantly surprised to see the other man keepong quiet as promised. He ignores them still of course, staring moodily into his cup between draughts.

The silence cannot hold forever though.

"...Aye. Been speaking to the others from my star, have you?" he says grumpily.

There's that phrasing again, 'my star'. It is kind of a neat way to say planet. Wryly, he says, "apparently. His name is Erichthonios - he got here not too long ago, I think."

More importantly, the question seems to have been deemed acceptable conversation, which Med'an is glad of. Maybe the silence can be over now? Let's test it out. "Have you been seeing any animals or plants or anything from Etheirys? I saw a monster from my world the other night. I have no idea...why that would be happening, though..."

He trails off to see if Emet-Selch continues to engage.

"Oh. Him."

He sighs. Even now, he still isn't sure how to react to see his brethren - his original brethren - here.

"I have not. But then again, I do not make it a habit to wander the wilds. I did suggest to him to create some of our native fauna to guard the fae though."

(What. What is that response, Emet-Selch. WHAT DOES 'OH, HIM' MEAN. Med'an's face briefly contorts in confusion before he brightens back up when he realizes that the conversation is, in fact, continuing.)

"I saw the bramble patch he planted. It looks good." Though Erich had seemed to feel that introducing foreign creatures wouldn't be a good idea. Maybe Emet-Selch knows more than them, though. "Animals from Etheirys? What kinds...uh," he pauses as his brain finally digests that last sentence. "Did you say 'create' them?"

Edited 2023-08-28 02:19 (UTC)

"Aye, I did." He flaps his hand to ward off upcoming objections. "Before you panic, new creatures are always introduced with utmost care. I'm sure the boy will take due diligence."

Although, maybe he should be concerned if Erichthonios chooses to introduce one of the roaming flora... Those can propagate at a rapid pace.

“Are you any good at hunting monsters?”

This might seem like a strange thing to say to a random passerby on the streets of Aldrip, but on this fine evening, it's apparently Med'an's opening line. Perhaps he's spotted G'raha's staff and assumed that he's an adventurer? Med'an himself is equipped with a bow and arrows, a simple leather quiver slung over his back, and he has a vaguely panicked look on his face.

“There's a thing - “ he hurriedly points down the road, where past the low buildings of the town the forest can be seen. A faint, red shimmer seems to be moving silently through the tree-tops; there's the barest hint of a crest and antennae behind it. “I've never actually fought one of these before - but I think it's from my world. Can you come with me?”

"Am I any good at what?"

All right that's not what he's expecting someone to say. Especially not just passing by. Usually people open up with some sort of greeting or another line of conversation. Then, perhaps, lead into what it is that they want. G'raha himself hasn't put two and two together - that his staff might indicate a more adventurous spirit. ~~Which is true, he just tries his best to pretend he's more responsible and level headed than that.~~ After all, such things are commonplace where he is from. Yet there's something that draws his attention nonetheless.

"I would say that I've encountered more than a fair few."

G'raha follows the direction of where Med'an is pointing. Sees the antennae. His ears perk and his fur begins to stand on end. He looks back to the other, frowning.

"How can you be certain it is dangerous? What is it capable of?"

Sorry, G'raha, Med'an is usually a bit more polite. He's just agitated right now; but at least he seems earnest. "It's a spore walker. They're all over Zangarmarsh - they say they attack anything they see. I don't know how it got here, but...I don't want it coming closer to the village."

(And, well, it's also just kind of exciting. He, too, likes to pretend to be responsible to cover up his adventurousness.)

"I think they shoot lasers," he continues, seeming a little buoyed by G'raha's interest. "And, just, they're really big. So I don't want to try and take it on myself."

[Closed] go see the world cause it’s all so brand new

Emet-Selch

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G'raha Tia

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