milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Right, so who called you?" Autor asks, adjusting his glasses.

Luckily, the boy has read Procopius' Secret History, because he loved Struggle for Rome so much.

Make way, you people, for our stride.
We are the last of the Goths.
We do not carry a crown with us,
We carry but a corpse.

Autor gazes at the broad-shouldered king clad in mourning, and nods. "Yes," he says. "I know the Ostrogoths."

"We dealt our justice in public, and based on laws long-established," Teja says. "It was very different from here. This is a bar; we are the bouncers. You know what the three rules are?"

The student nods again. "I'd prefer that, actually," he says. "Arrest me or don't; no more of this 'are you a paranoid wanker or a dangerous bugger' business.

"And I do know the rules, very well," Autor says, ticking them off on his fingers. "No nudity, no violence, and no grudges against people from your own world. I assume that is where some of the debate about my dossiers enters play?"

"Indeed," Teja says. "If you collect knowledge about those from your world, it would fall under 'business from home', as the phrase goes."

Pause.

"Also, the rule about sex and nudity is the third one; it came last."

Autor nods. "Just out of curiosity," he says, "what if I'd already had knowledge about people from my world before getting here--and didn't collect any more?"

After Teja's next statement, though, the boy's face blooms brighter than a firework, and spreads just as quickly. "Oh," he says. "I don't know why, uh, that would be last?"

"It was instituted last of all three rules," Teja says, "after an incident which, I think, involved some strange Japanese incarnation of the god Loki from the myths of my people, and his vampire lover, finding their pleasure right against the bar one night. The bar, being sentient, seriously complained. Or so we are told; it was long before my time."

Edited 2013-05-16 23:42 (UTC)

Japanese. Loki. Vampires. It's like a conglomeration of the characteristics of people Autor knows glued together and doing... things on Bar.

Autor is rather loathe to disgrace himself in front of a solemn king from one of his favorite pieces of history, so he turns away and tries to keep his paroxysm contained. "On Bar!" he croaks, when he turns back, face aflame. "That is disgraceful."

Then he clears his throat. "Do you happen to have an answer to my previous question?" he says. "And I don't suppose I can ask whether or not I'm on grounds to be arrested."

"If you knew about them before, you may still not use the vantage point this place gives you against them," Teja says. "But it will be hard to prove, unless one complains. So you shall remain unarrested, as far as I am concerned, for now."

Pause.

"And indeed, it must have been digraceful. They were both punished more severely than by mere celling: they were refused service for a while."

Autor inclines his head. "Thank you," he says. He still finds the thought that the reluctant king of the Ostrogoths would come to talk to him about a diary utterly absurd. I'm not worth him.

Still. He does appreciate Teja's judgment, for now. Autor knows very well that he would not be able to escape if the king decided to pursue him.

"I can't imagine Bar would want to give them service after that," he says, and shudders. "Why did you choose to work for Security?"

Autor has a theory. But Teja may surprise him.

"Bar, it seems, was deeply shocked," Teja says. "And that takes some doing. And I wished to be in Security as I wished to have a say in how matters are handled here: and among my people, only the fighting men, and the old and wise warriors, would have a say in the matters of state, so to have a spot of ground from which to voice my mind, I found I would prefer to be among those running the place, hence, Security. I do not lead any here; I am merely a fighting man and bouncer in this place, and throw trouble-makers in the cells, and warn those that are about to break the rules, or find out of they might be. I first worked for Security when there was a vampire of great powers come to this place, preying on some of the denizens, and spoke to one that trusted me because I was not, at that point, Security: - then, Melaka Fray hired me on the spot."

Autor nods slowly as he absorbs Teja's words. "That makes a lot of sense," he says, and wonders what the king makes of Gene. "Your skills as a warrior king would suit this place quite nicely, but do you ever get bored doing it? Powerful vampires and, ah, people doing, um, things on Bar don't seem to be frequent occurrences."

"I do not spend all my time working Security duty," Teja says. "I work in the forge, and I play my harp -- those peaceful skill of mine that I had never enough time for, when I was alive."

"Good," Autor says, grinning. "Boredom is a sword that cuts slowly."

Of the three kings in A Struggle for Rome, Autor preferred Teja. He saw the end and did what he needed to do despite that. He'd hate to think of Teja as something as paralyzing as bored. The boy would be even more giddy--hence the gigglefit--to meet him if he wasn't in fear of his journal going up in flames.

"So what do you make in the forge?" Autor asks. "Well, actually, what do you like making?"

"I make all that can be made of metal," Teja says. "I make blades of all sorts, arrow-heads, jewellery and trinkets; I have learned of crafts from faraway lands, and like to make folded steel for blades, and mokumegane for the trinkets. But I also repair implements, I have made parts for flying motorcycles, sharpened the blades belonging to a goddess, and reforged a very meaningful crowbar."

Pause.

"In the room beside the forge, the trolls keep their alchimeter; I may use it, but only rarely do."

The gears in Autor's head start spinning, working through ideas regarding what he can commission Teja for. "I assume you can make armors as well," he says. "What do you take as payment? Goodness, you've done work for all manner of the bar's clientele.

"And ooh, yes," the boy says, inching towards giddy after all. "Karkat showed me the alchimeter when he made my sylladex. What do you use it for, usually?"

That room is hilariously decorated. I'll have to bother Canker-blossom about it later.

"Usually, I do not use it, as I make things by hand," Teja says. "And I ask for payment in tab. I am dead, and this is my afterlife, so I need no coin, save the virtual one of this place."

Autor nods rapidly. "I'd love to commission you, once I have a better idea of what I want. I don't suppose I could watch you work, sometime?"

Then he grins, though it's a bit shy. "It's an honor to have met you, really. I know your history from Procopius' work, but that doesn't mean I know you at all."

"This went differently than I thought," Teja says. "If you write notes about me, show them to me?"

He does not smile, but he seems somewhat relaxed; this last remark might even be a very, very subdued and deadpan joke, such as a Teja might make.

"And all may watch me work. If the forge-door is open, I shall turn only those away that behave dangerously, or annoy me at my work. You are as welcome as any other."

Autor laughs quietly, not at Teja's humor--which he misses--but at his, "better than expected" statement.

"Me too," the student says, "and it's safe to say I'm relieved about that. I'll drop a copy of your dossier off at the bar." He wonders, now, how many other people would like to see what he thinks of them. Probably not many, given the level of consternation Yugo's inspired? Ink to the ephemeral.

"I look forward to watching steel bend to your will," Autor says, "which won't surprise me in the slightest." He offers the warrior king a little bow, and a wave, before he cheerfully turns away.

[OOC: Ohh, I have a deep and abiding love for Teja now. Thanks for the thread!]

Teja returns the nod, then goes about his business.