expiationlogs | april catch-all!

Entry tags:

april catch-all!

Who: Claude & Various
Where: Around Aldrip!
What: Claude and his encounters around town.
Warnings: None anticipated! If you'd like to hop in on a log, however, please feel free to PM/DM me or hit me up on plurk (here!), and I'd be happy to whip up a starter for you, or you can just wildcard me in here! Claude will be going about his business exploring the new Aldrip, fumbling around with new technology, running the apothecary, training, riding his wyvern, etc., etc., so if any of those appeal, feel free to jump on in. :)

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[ It has been a difficult process adapting back into life here with the knowledge that the past month had all been an illusion. Miller is still constantly challenging his own thoughts, wanting to believe what feels truer in his mind right now with indignance, but ultimately realizing that the dozens of other peoples' testimony is likely not wrong. So instead of dealing with it more directly, he throws himself into exploring the new scenery. The city itself has expanded greatly, leaving plenty to uncover, and when it comes to the forest outside town, the other plus to wandering around out there and perhaps catching some food to take back with him is that he gets to be alone. He hasn't really had an experience he'd describe as fully peaceful since he arrived here, but it's about the closest that it can get.

Leaving his larger gun at home, Miller is heading down the road empty handed, with the few supplies he felt he needed tucked into his holster and pack. Not far from the mouth of the woods, he comes upon someone he doesn't recognize with a makeshift target practice set up. It piques his interest, and he watches as the man lets several arrows loose and lands a clean shot with them all. By this point, they're close enough to talk, and he continues towards him with the same leisurely pace. ]

No, don't mind me. I'm in no rush. You're pretty good with a bow! I take it this is more than just a hobby of yours?

I'd certainly hope that I'm better than a hobbyist! [ Claude exclaims, letting his bowhand relax by his side as he lowers his weapon properly. He's glad for the practice, now that he's out here; while his skill remains unchanged, he's reminded of just how much strength it takes to draw a bow such as this one. He remembers the days of his youth, training until he could scarcely raise his arm further than his bellybutton, and even now, feels a pleasant stretch across his back. ]

When there's trouble afoot, I lead my own battalions, back home. If I weren't good with my weapon, I'm sure I'd be six feet under by now, [ Claude says with a jollity that doesn't quite suit his words. ] There may be no war here, but I feel a lot better keeping sharp anyway. It's always good to stay prepared, right?

[ The first retort causes one corner of his mouth to turn upwards in humor. The younger rangers were the same in their defensiveness, he often found. But seeing no need to lighten the unintended blow, he lets Claude elaborate as he closes the rest of the distance between them.

Given what he just witnessed, there's little reason to doubt his words regardless of the levity in his tone. ]

We have already seen it for ourselves. We always have to be ready here.

[ Which is his way of saying he agrees, but he does find it interesting. A bow is a rather primitive weapon for war. Even the forest dwellers in the valley of whom some used crossbows had come out with rifles at the ready. ]

Your home... must be very different from mine. I have been a soldier my whole life, but the use of a weapon like yours would be quite limited there. Did you go to battle on horseback?

A fellow soldier, huh? [ That's burying the lede a bit -- Claude is no soldier. He's the one who makes the decisions about who lives and who dies. The only thing that helps him lessen the sting is that he's always right in the mix with them, leading the charge more often than not, as any good leader of his time does. He fancies himself a soldier all the same. ]

Pleasure to meet you. [ On the same side of the metaphorical battlefield, at that. He's an older guy, for a soldier, which speaks of his skills. Though the gods of fortune may smile at a select few, bad fighters don't make for old soldiers. ] We have plenty of footsoldiers too, but a lot of us use mounts, yeah. I favour the wyvern, personally, but the skills translate better than you'd think.

[ He cocks a hip, considering Miller's words. ] Let me guess: you're from one of those worlds where they use guns. Someone's let me check theirs out before. It's certainly a fascinating bit of machinery.

[ A wyvern? Like a dragon? His eyebrows raise. Well, after hearing about the mole badgers from Toph, he really shouldn't be surprised to learn things like this about others' worlds. They probably wouldn't be picturing anything quite like what he is either. Having a flying mount does certainly take the use of more traditional ranged weapons to the next level though.

In any case, he nods his head at the introduction, offering a gloved hand for Claude to shake. ]

It does sound impressive. Good to meet you as well. I am Colonel Miller, the commander of a squadron known as the Spartan Order.

[ It has long since been established that he has no reason to hide that information, so he may as well try to find some point of relation. ]

You are right. Even among civilians, guns are practically a staple where I am from. You might even see little children learning to fire a revolver. [ Oh, but it's not because that's condoned or something. ] Most of us are under a state of constant threat. There was a huge calamity about twenty years ago that really changed our way of life.

A Colonel... I can't say I'm familiar with the rank. But if I've got a decent measure of you, I'd say that it's a pretty high one.

[ Nobody really introduces themselves by rank unless it's an impressive one anyway. Not outside of active combat, and not outside of wanting to make an impression; Claude always felt a twist in his gut when some bright eyed, wet behind the ears young men sprinted towards him eagerly introducing themselves as junior squire this, or junior infantry that. ]

I was taught how to use a bow as soon as my hands were large enough to grip a training bow, myself. But that was a matter of pride and initiaton -- not any active warfare that would meet us in the city.

[ On the borders, in other nations, sure. But Claude had been safe and sound, cloistered in his privileged little life. ]

What kind of calamity was that? Man-made, or something else?

[ The intention behind it was more to serve as a point of reference for a fellow soldier. After all, he is called Colonel in name only, since that title was bestowed upon him long before they went underground. Unfortunately it seems that even their ranking systems don't align, so he simply allows Claude to assume as he likes. It doesn't matter anyway. They are in Aldrip, not the Metro.

He is, meanwhile, interested to hear of his experience. It sounds like he may have grown up in a military family. ]

Yes, it was the result of nuclear warfare. [ Of course, he realizes he probably doesn't know what that is, but the concept should be self-explanatory enough. ] My country was involved in an exchange of missiles powerful enough to decimate the surface of the earth. The atmosphere became unlivable and we were forced to flee underground.

Were most of your battles fought away from home, then?

Missiles powerful enough to what? [ Claude can't help to gape at the man in absolute horror. He's heard of a lot of things, but even the existence of firearms seemed a bizarre, hellish thing to him -- something he'd like to mimic, yes, something that seems useful, but also something that feels like it could change the course of his world as he knows it. For all of the destruction he's seen war bring to his people, entire fields of crops lost in a blaze, the callous destruction of towns, the people unable to scrounge enough together to eat, magic and arrows raining from the sky and a well-placed swing of the sword enough to end a life where it stands...

It's far, far different to the picture of mass destruction being painted here. It sounds like the sort of doomsday that is only spoken of in apocalyptic religious tomes, things that he has always taken to be metaphor rather than prediction. ]

I'm so sorry. That sounds horrible. That sort of technology -- I could never dream of it. [ He never wants to. ] Growing up, I was mainly sent out to deal with small-scale skirmishes. Bandit attacks, fringe religious uprisings, that sort of thing. These days, my country is stuck between two others at war, and we've seen the logical result of that.

[ They're not gripped in active warfare. Not yet. But Claude and his soldiers still have to deal with the problems that are encroaching on the territory, all while Claude himself is preparing to plunge in once they're adequately prepared. ]

But... we fight with swords and spears, archery and magic. Nothing with such widespread effects, as awful as it is for those living in towns under siege.

[ "Change the course of history as he knows it," huh? Yeah, that sounds about right.

While Miller has been relatively forthcoming with the state of the world he left behind, there is a reason he doesn't usually volunteer the information unless asked. Some people in the Metro still lamented their lives on the surface, of course. People like his son-in-law would go as far as to risk the wellbeing of others that might need to spill their blood (literally) to pay for his idealism. But those people were becoming fewer and fewer as the years dragged on, and Miller himself had accepted it a long time ago. At least, that was the case before he took off on their unplanned journey.

Being faced with people who are hearing it for the first time again, even when it's not personal to them, makes him feel uneasy. He doesn't know if he should try to explain that, try to justify some past choice made by his people, or if he should just say, "it's okay" because that's easier.

In this case, he can at least kind of couch that sentiment in the general sense of awe Claude is feeling. ]

Yes... I know it is probably difficult to imagine. It took quite some time to get used to assimilating here, among people who had no concept of living in such a place no less. I never would have thought that people like that still existed. [ On some far off island all the way across the sea, maybe? ] But I am glad that they do. It's for the best that no one should have to see such things.

[ That being said, since his world is so different from most of theirs, his fascination for theirs is similar. ]

Magic is a new one to me, but it seems to have a different meaning to whoever you ask. I have seen things here I could have only imagined in children's storybooks and I still can't wrap my head around it. So, it is not capable of widescale destruction? Are you well-versed in it?

My land is technologically behind most others' here. I've already figured that much out. No guns, no missiles, but also no telephones, no electricty, none of this advanced medicine you can find here. We still send missives out on horseback, pump our water through wells. All progress comes with its advantages and drawbacks, I suppose.

[ It all depends on what you're willing to give up, Claude thinks. For all that he's come to enjoy some creature comforts - central heating is a marvel of the likes he had never considered before, a joy suffusing his bones every time he gets to step into his home and be warmed before he so much as lights a fire - he'd give it all up to avoid such a sorry, violent fate. Not that he'll say it out loud. No sense in rubbing salt in the wound. ]

Anyway, magic isn't my strong suit. I'm an archer, through and through -- all I know are the basics that I had to learn in school. Skilled mages are capable of the sort of magic that can make quick work of a squadron of soldiers, but nothing more than that, and not without significant effort. Most people's magic is used for smaller things; a light in the dark, a heal for a sprain, a fire for the hearth.

I can demonstrate a little, though. [ He mutters an incantation, and a gentle gust of wind rustles through Miller's hair, only to turn harder, sharper as it approaches Claude's palm and cuts a clean slice through it. Claude doesn't even wince. Instead, he speaks another incantation and the cut heals over, as though it was never there to begin with. ]

See?

[ If he'd never known anything else, the only limitation to living in such a land is the pace at which their society can strive forward. Sure, it may feel a bit different now, living in the city that Aldrip has become, but that doesn't sound so bad to Miller. It is, at least, very much distinct from seeing that future now stagnant.

And Claude is not the first he's met to describe a home like that. They still bring their own skillset to the table, to be sure. Before he saw Toph pulling the earth around like waves, he'd have had difficulty seeing it as something less whimsical... but by now, he knows that what Claude is telling him is true. Soldiers could absolutely be swept off of their feet by that.

He turns in the direction of the wind, watching its path as it sweeps back around to slice Claude on the palm. ]

Oh— [ Yes, it's no atomic bomb, but to heal a wound so quickly! ] Even if it has its limitations, it is still quite impressive. Medkits are often in short supply, and the speed of using something like that to treat an injury... well, I can see it saving a lot of lives.

[ Especially given he comes from a world without guns. ]

I didn't catch your name earlier.

My healing capabilities are paltry compared to our actual healers. If not for them, I would be dead a dozen times over. My friend from back home, Marianne, is the true healer -- she works with the Healers Brigade here.

[ It changes the course of battle as he knows it. You can act more recklessly, more boldly when you know you have a healer by your side, that you can be dragged back from the brink of death to dive back in. The pain that you feel when you're struck down is as real as if it were permanent, but pain is far more temporary than the effects of a devastating loss.

To be trapped in a world with nuclear bombs but no battlefield healers seems like a shitty trade-off to Claude. ]

Ah, forgive me for the lapse! Claude von Riegan, at your service, Colonel, [ he says, offering Miller a small, cheeky bow. ] If we're standing on titles, that's Duke von Riegan, but there's no use for such things here. I barely like the title back home.

Oh, is that so? How fortunate. I'll have to introduce myself to her later.

[ If he's being honest with himself, the fascination with it is about as useful as their respective titles while he is here. Not to mention that if a skill like that were so easily learned, Claude would already be an expert himself. Though as of yet, Miller doesn't want to completely abandon the thought that he might be able to return home someday... or the thought that Anna could wind up here, too. Claude is not the first he's met to have companions from home with him, after all. Maybe he should save his more specific questions on it for this Marianne.

On the topic of companions though, the reminder of a young friend of the same name is pure coincidence, but from Claude's perspective, it would seem to incense Miller who gestures meaninglessly into the air. ]

"Duke?" So even royalty is liable to be imprisoned here.

[ He takes a few steps to the side and turns his gaze downward as he adjusts his hat. ]

Claude then... You are right. I would be interested to hear your thoughts on this situation. A military man like yourself — you must be doing something besides simply biding your time.

Oh, a Duke's nothing. A friend of mine here is a Princess, and still she was dragged here. None of us are immune, more's the pity.

[ When Miller inquires what Claude's been doing with his time, he can't help but grimace, gaze flitting over to the distant treeline, the world outside of it, the lands he's yet to properly explore. ]

I haven't gotten any closer to getting out of here, if that's what you've been asking. And... I don't know how long you've been here for, but everything I have been doing has amounted to nothing, more or less. In the absence of a way out, I thought I would do my best to secure this land to the best of my ability. After the last natural disaster, I helped establish food storage, weapon stores, evacuation routes, tried to get our farmlands up and running again. And I established some basic diplomacy with Rumpitur to secure future trade routes.

[ He rubs at the back of his neck. ] And then the Rumpiturans kidnapped a bunch of us to be human sacrifices? So that was a bust. And then the entire damn city changed on us overnight, which I think ruined all of the emergency supply stores I had set up. So that was a bust too.

[ He glances back at Miller. ]

Not my finest showing, I'll admit that much.

[ There was, of course, always the possibility that he'd fire back with something about how he actually wanted to stay in this place... It's happened more than he cares to say. However, yes, he was referring to exactly that. Despite the rather gloomy nature to his reply, for Miller, it's actually refreshing to hear from someone who was personally involved in many of the situations that he's only gotten to hear about from other less interested parties.

Not to say that he can't relate to the sense that all of his efforts were for nothing. It is an incredibly familiar feeling.

He turns back to Claude, his hand making a spirited fist to punctuate his words. ]

I would hardly call that a failing. Who among us could have anticipated that everything around us could change in a single night?

[ True, there were those people who were theorizing about how this place was a simulation before the big memory shifting took place, but Miller himself, at least, was really struggling to believe that before the Aldrip transformation... ]

I have not been here long. A couple of months. But I think that is quite respectable of you. I don't know if I could remain so calm in your position... I heard about the explosion in Ketsora. And then there was the attack on City Hall. It seems that even those who should be our allies continue to hinder us every step of the way.

[ In other words... he really does not think it is Claude that should feel he's made a misstep. ]

Do you intend to rebuild the stores?

Hah. I appreciate the kind words. Don't get me wrong, I'm no stranger to failure, but it's disheartening to have it happen so swiftly, so unpredictably. My ability to plan ahead is the finest that I've got. It's strange to be in a place where it can be cast aside without rhyme or reason.

[ That's the sticking point, really. He's never been one for drastic action, always seeking out incremental change, to shift people's mindsets, to carefully apply his plans and put in the foundations for what may lay ahead. This place, unpredictable as it is, doesn't reward that whatsoever; instead, it seems to reward drastic, brash action, reaction instead of inaction, the ability to be flexible and change things up on the fly.

He always thought he was pretty decent at that before, but in his time here, he's had a long time to meditate on his failing as a leader, and as a commander. He's too cautious by far, and now it's biting him in the ass. Still, he works up a smile. ]

I haven't actually gone looking for the stores again. Those old buildings are gone now, but it could be that they were all displaced into other buildings. I've yet to really get a good feel for the city as it is now -- maybe you can come hunting with me for them sometime, if you're interested in preparing for the worst as well. That sort of thing is more my style than blowing up City Hall. [ He raises a brow at Miller, wry. ] I'm not sure what that was supposed to accomplish.

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april catch-all!

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