(no subject)

[student_of_impossibility]

Last time Tavi was in the Bar, he'd intended to write to his family. Instead he ended up Bartending.

This time, he's bound and determined to actually get those letters written, because it actually is relaxing and keeps it from taking up time at work.

And yet, for some reason, he seems to be chewing his lip and working on catapult and trebuchet designs.

Still, he has his usual basket of bread, olive oil, and carafe of water that seem remarkably unguarded from passers by. Not only that, but for all his concentration, he does look relaxed and rather pleased.

Comments

[covert_bandage]

[OOC: Does Tavi's attire look even remotely like something one would reasonably expect of the Romans, or is he wearing modern Western clothes?]

[student_of_impossibility]

[ Not remotely modern; he looks like he's wearing a Roman-ish tunic with pants and closed boots that could be Germanic or mediaeval influenced. ]

[cutting_edgex23]

X, Security badge pinned to her belt over her left hip, pauses by his table, head tilting very slightly.

Blame the catapult designs. (Or the trebuchet.)

"You are working?"

He could just like the look of them. Though she would be dubious about that sort of answer.

[student_of_impossibility]

When catapult or trebuchet designs are involved, there is no blame. Only awesome.

He looks up, however, and carefully keeps that flash of recognition. Of course, some people smell the exact similarity, some read auras or something--but he tries anyway.

"Yes and no."

He's given that answer before.

"It might be work one day, but I'm just playing with ideas. I know someone who'd be interested."

[cutting_edgex23]

"I am allowed to ask?"

She stays where she is for a few seconds, studying this man that she has met before. Then, movements quick and economical, she takes a seat.

"Who it is."

Beat.

"Or they are from your home?"

[student_of_impossibility]

"Sure."

He shrugs, fluidly.

"For definitions of home. I was asked by a Count on the eastern border for advice on his defenses. Seems to think I might have unconventional solutions. We've been keeping in touch."

Because said Count is his uncle, and said definition is where I was born.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Why does he think that?"

Beat.

"About unconventional solutions. And you."

This is something X likes to know.

(She has cause to consult people on unconventional solutions, on occasion. And she has also been used as that kind of consultant in the past.

It pays to keep her hand in!)

[student_of_impossibility]

"I think I'm developing a reputation."

His smile is wry.

After a moment, he decides to explain very slightly.

"I won a battle a few months back, and brought on some new recruits. All... unconventionally."

[cutting_edgex23]

"That is not very descriptive," X offers, after a long few moments of silence.

And hard on the heels of that --

"Many people from your world come here?"

[student_of_impossibility]

"It's the best summary. The story would take... quite a long time."

And involves more information than he'd like to give.

Another fluid shrug.

"Not more than a handful--I think one of my officers and I are the two most frequent patrons."

[cutting_edgex23]

"Max," X says.

It is not quite a question.

"I remember."

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi nods amicably enough.

"My Tribune Auxiliarus," he agreed.

Beat.

"Alerans are all almost painfully alike, apparently," he adds wryly. There may be an understated question there, however.

She recognizes him, doesn't she?

[cutting_edgex23]

"I do not think so," X says.

Carefully.

"You and Max are very distinct."

So is everybody else X has ever met. It's funny how useful an enhanced sense of smell is for that kind of thing.

Go figure.

(Which is to say, unless he has gone to great lengths to mask his scent differently every time they have met -- yes. She recognizes him.)

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi knows enough about people to read between the lines there.

His scent has changed a little--a lot more smoke and blood and steel and leather have just sunk into his uniforms, even when clean (certainly at levels that humans can't smell), but at the basic level, he's still just Tavi.

So he flashes a quick grin at her.

"That much I'll grant you."

Beat.

"My nose isn't half as crooked."

[cutting_edgex23]

"You do not flirt as persistently, either."

X is very good at being matter-of-fact.

But, perhaps more importantly --

"And I have not seen you in combat."

[student_of_impossibility]

"True. But I can hold a steady relationship."

For a moment affection flashes through his eyes. Never, ever get him started on Kitai.

Still, he laughs shortly, amusement in his expression.

"No, I suppose not. You've seen Max fight?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"I do not think it is necessary," X offers, after a moment. "A steady relationship."

She pronounces that one exactly like Tavi did. Sometimes that is easier with new terminology.

Then --

"Yes. In Alanna's world."

Beat.

"He threw me to the beach. It was very effective."

And, you know. Something any other non-furycrafter might not have survived.

Still.

[covert_bandage]

... huh.

Usually you don't see members of the Legion in anything but their armor. Then again, usually Arcade only sees members of the Legion long after they're already dead.... their slaves, now, that's another story, both in terms of attire and in terms of being alive.

This could be bad. Or not. He's not sure.

"[You're a long way from Caesar's lands, stranger,]" he finally says in Latin. There isn't a Legion slave alive who won't have some form of gut reaction to the sound of the language, whether they actually speak it yet or not.

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi looks up after a moment, and frowns. Something flashes across his eyes, which narrow ever so slightly.

That is not Aleran (or whatever language the Bar happily translates into the Aleran he is so used to, bar the few idioms he translates to Aleran ones himself).

However, some of the phrases are vaguely familiar--and the name Caesar catches his interest. He heard about Gaius Julius here, from Marcus Antonius in fact, and has read a book written by the same several times over. The pronunciation is odd, too, and after a moment he smiles wryly.

"Sorry--one of the valets says something about what I think you just said--something about Romans? Anyway, that might sound a bit like Old Aleran, but that was at least fifteen hundred years ago, probably."

[covert_bandage]

Hm. Arcade's no intelligence analyst, but he'd be willing to bet that wasn't the look of someone who recognized Latin. Not a Legion agent, then, or a slave out of Legion lands. Probably for the best.

He relaxes, and says, "My apologies. You resembled some of the people from my side of the door who'd be using the language on a daily basis. I wanted to be certain without being too intrusive."

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi is an intelligence analyst, and one with informative instincts. The man is worried about something, and tried to be subtle about that digging for information.

A few possibilities flash through his mind. "Really? I've been told time and again I look Roman, and again, one of the valets is known for his theories about them, but I've never been clear on the details."

It's said genially, and with curiosity. It is, after all, half true.

[covert_bandage]

"I see," says Arcade. "Then the name 'Caesar's Legion' doesn't ring any bells for you? Other than it being Roman, obviously. Not that there's anything I could do about it if it did, but frankly, this place is better off without them."

All of which is absolutely true. It's just that there may be a slight difference between the Caesar Arcade is thinking of, and the Caesar every other person who has ever mentioned the Romans to Tavi is thinking of.

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi raises an eyebrow very slightly.

"Not the Caesar part," he lies through his teeth, "though we have Legions of our own." After another moment, his head tilts slightly as he regards the man. This was certainly interesting. A grudge against some Legion, somewhere, might be dangerous. "Better why?"

[covert_bandage]

"Oh, expansionist ambitions, coupled with boundless militarism, adherence to doctrines of total war, and a complete willingness to dispense with anything resembling human dignity or freedom in the name of achieving their goals-" Arcade shrugs. "I really don't think they'd stop long enough to hear the orientation lecture that explains about how this place isn't actually located anywhere near Caesar's lands. It'd be gladii first, questions later, if at all."

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi can't help it: he thinks of Kalarus' Legions of Immortals, of the origins of Alera and the civil wars.

His face, however, remains relaxed. "Most of my people ask questions first." Though maybe after lashing out in shock and setting fire to something before that, if they're particularly excitable and don't have the kind of control Tavi and his nearest and dearest do.

"Besides," he adds lightly, "I don't think any Lords of my Realm would see much use in conquering a tavern, especially one with a manifest--spirit of wood." Another lie: some might, with the ability to get through to other worlds if they could control the doors.

But that's mostly Kalarus and his insanity, and Tavi is actually confident in his own ability to stop Kalarus in the Bar if it came to that, alone or with his other Alerans and friends he's made here.