(no subject)

[manofbusiness]

Childermass steps through the door and his appearance almost instantly changes. He knows it, too, by the sudden unobstructed breeze on his neck, and heads for the nearest mirror to find his hair much shorter and his clothes transformed to a plain brown tunic.

"...well, I suppose it could be worse."

Comments

[student_of_impossibility]

"It could," agrees the man lounging to one side watching the various transformations with some amusement.

And, well, who looks rather Roman himself, if not quite historically accurate.

[manofbusiness]

"Have you escaped it yourself?" Childermass asks. "Or was that the lady's choice for you?"

[student_of_impossibility]

"I usually escape," Tavi says cheerfully. "And ignore other instances of it. I am profoundly grateful, quite frankly."

Honestly, it's not the kind of thing he would ever appreciate, especially when he has little tolerance for hiding out in Bar for extended periods. He has work to do, after all.

[manofbusiness]

Childermass nods. "I have been told it does not last beyond the doors of this place, but I would not like to test it."

[student_of_impossibility]

"Quite." Tavi's lips thin slightly. "While I have fewer explanations to give than I used to, I have no desire to make any at all."

Not that he really has to give those these day. Sacred right and all.

[manofbusiness]

"My master - well, it is quite possible he would not even notice", he says dryly. "But the others in his staff would."

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi raises an eyebrow. "He wouldn't notice?"

[manofbusiness]

"He is not a particularly observant man. And very often focused on his books."

[student_of_impossibility]

"Is that your usual face?" Because sometimes that changes for people, and sometimes not.

[manofbusiness]

"Face, yes. Hair, no - but if he thinks of it, he might wonder for a moment if I decided to have it cut."

[student_of_impossibility]

"Ah. Well, if your face is the same, I can see it happening rather more easily," he admits. At least, if one is truly that unobservant.

[manofbusiness]

Childermass nods. "Sometimes, I am quite sure, we have a full conversation without him looking up even once from his book."

He's got used to it, and there's even some affection in his tone.

[student_of_impossibility]

"Are you sure he knows what you look like?" This is truly entertaining to Tavi, who cannot quite comprehend how any boss could be like that.

[ostro_goth]

"Than some ordinary citizen of the Roman empire, by your looks?" says the tall barbarian with an axe, clad in black and wearing a Tyrian purple cloak.

Incongruously, there is a small grey cat sitting on his broad, angular shoulder.

"Yes, much worse."

[manofbusiness]

"I do not know why she should choose such a thing." He glances over at the tall man. "Did she dress you also?"

[ostro_goth]

"No, she did not," the man says. "It is a valid question, of course. I still find the clothes of my own time most comfortable, even after eight years in this place."

Pause.

"What time and place do you usually hail from?"

[manofbusiness]

"Yorkshire", Childermass tells him. "In the year 1806."

[ostro_goth]

"That is in England, is it not?" the tall man says. "It would be rather cold for that kind of clothes; to say nothing of the fact that your time likes to be much more covered, even in warmer climes. I know quite a number of early 19th century Frenchmen, in this place."

Pause.

"I hail from Italy, the year 552 of Christian reckoning. I am Teja, son of Tagila, and was the last king of the Ostrogoths in Italy; I fell in our last battle on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius, in early autumn of that year. In my eight years in this place, I have come to run the forge, and serve in Security."

Another pause.

"You seem new. Have you been told of the rules, and have your questions been answered as well as they may?"

Which isn't very, given that Milliways is Milliways.

[manofbusiness]

He listens to this speech with mild bemusement.

"I hope she returns my coat, when this is over. I am fond of that coat... yes, I am quite new, but have been welcomed."

[ostro_goth]

"She will," Teja assures him. "She always does, when her amusement is done. You will not be sent back to your world to be both cold and stared at."

Pause.

"Some-one will ever greet the newcomers; one may mostly rely on the denizens of this place. But if you have any more questions, ask them."

[manofbusiness]

"I have dozens!" he says with a quick laugh. "But I suspect they may be no easier for you to answer than for others."

[ostro_goth]

Teja smiles briefly. "Ask them all, and I am sure that among the dozen or so questions, three or five answers may be found. Would you share some wine with me?"

[manofbusiness]

"Why not?" He pulls up a chair. "But how does a king come to be a humble blacksmith, and happy with it?"

[ostro_goth]

Teja sits, and orders wine from the rats.

"I am a blacksmith, swordsmith, goldsmith," he says, "and have been, proudly, all my life, while I was also a comes, an officer in the Gothic army. Making me king was the last resort after defeat and before certain annihilation. Making Black Teja king after Golden Totila fell would assure that we went down with a fight to be remembered, and took as many enemies with us as we could. In the end, it meant that all the survivors of our last battle, all our women and children, went free and left for the North where we once came from. It was, all in all, three months well spent at being king. Then, in this place, my afterlife, I knew peace for the first time."

[manofbusiness]

"Three months", he echoes quietly. "And so much achieved."