(no subject)

[iprotectyou]

(OOM: Red: the blood of angry men.)

"You don't think an electric saw would be cheating? I think it would be. You're entitled to your own opinion, but..." Baze says to Bar, clearly in the midst of an argument with her. She provides a pointed refill of his water glass, and he takes the hint and drinks some.

A napkin pops up on her mahogany surface. Baze reads it and scowls.

"What do you mean you 'don't trust my muscles'? They're excellent muscles, I've worked very hard to earn them."

Another napkin.

"Just because I haven't eaten much lately doesn't mean--Fasting is a part of it! No, I am not going to pass out in the forest. I think you're just resentful that you don't get to feed me much anymore," Baze says, folding his arms and ignoring the water again.

Yet another napkin.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Just give me the manual saw. I'll use an electric one to trim the branches, I promise. Come on, Bar."

Comments

[the_cupbearer]

"Those are difficult arguments to win, my friend," Ganymede says, sitting at the end of the bar with a pen and a sheet of lined paper, one designed to write music on. There's an odd instrument laying beside him, looking like a double flute with a reed mouthpiece.

[iprotectyou]

Baze harrumphs, scowling good-naturedly down at the bar top.

"I've never had an argument with her before. She usually just gives me what I want. You mean this is a normal thing?"

[the_cupbearer]

"Oh yes," he chuckles, pen pausing above the paper. "For some of us they're quite frequent. She means well, though."

[iprotectyou]

Hmph. Hmph! Baze still has his arms folded, otherwise he'd fold them again.

"I'm sure she does," Baze says, offering Bar a fierce side-eye. He glances to the other man, and sighs.

"I may as well give up for now. May the Force of others be with you, Ganymede. What are you working on?"

[the_cupbearer]

"Hello, Baze," he greets in return, still smiling. "I am writing down a song to teach a friend. It's one from my childhood, and he's something of a musician. He'd enjoy learning the tune."

It's not as though Ganymede himself ever saw the song written, though: it's somewhat slow going, he not having been a musician himself of the same caliber. He's still trying to figure out notations so that it will make sense to someone who's never heard it. "And you? What are you arguing with her over?"

[iprotectyou]

"Oh, nice," Baze says, tipping his head in acknowledgment of how cool that is.

"I hope your friend appreciates what you're doing for him. I was planning on chopping down a few branches off a black walnut tree in the forest. I'd need to find it first, which is why I'm hoping to get a saw out of Bar before nightfall."

[the_cupbearer]

"I hope he does too, though I can't say I've run it by him yet, so he doesn't know."

Eh, details. "Why a black walnut in particular? Any special reason?"

[iprotectyou]

"Oh, a surprise song? Even better!" Baze says, grinning. He leans against the bar, arms still folded.

"Because of its strength, durability, and color. I'd prefer uneti wood, but I'm reluctant to just order it from Bar, and why not use an Earth tree since I'm spending my afterlife on an asteroid that's like Scotland?"

[the_cupbearer]

"I gave him a flute much like mine for a gift some time back, and hopefully he'll enjoy music written for it." Hopefully Hannibal will actually play it; Ganymede hasn't asked if he's got any way to learn. He assumes the man will find what he wants.

"I've never done much of anything with walnut wood," he says slowly, "But I have used ironwood before. It's beautiful, but damned difficult to carve, being so hard." But it won't break, and for a practice weapon that's incredibly useful.

[iprotectyou]

"Very good," Baze says, looking over the flute with an eye meant for weaponscrafting, but which can be used to appreciate any finely carved objects, even artistic ones.

"Ironwood? Do you think there'd be some of that in the forest? Bar?"

Bar provides a napkin, and Baze smiles.

"She says there is some. Tell me more about this ironwood, if you please?"

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede picks it up when he notes the glance: it's bleached bone, two lengths of it bound together by thin gold bands, scrolled etchings inked with deep blue. It may not look like a weapon, and isn't intended to be used as one, but it could certainly deal some blunt-force damage if needed.

"It's quite hard, actually the hardest wood known on earth," he says. "It can take some five thousand pounds of force before it cracks. I used it for a nonlethal weapon, one I could spar with. It doesn't have a very fine grain, though the burls can be pretty."

[iprotectyou]

"That flute is gorgeous; it's well-crafted," Baze says approvingly. Bar provides him another pointed reminder to drink his water, which he does.

"Hmm. That wood sounds like something to think about. What's the color like?"

[the_cupbearer]

"Thank you," he says. "It came from a dear friend." He elaborates no further on that, because he doubts Baze wants to really know the source of material.

"It varies, honestly. Quite light at the edges, but much darker interior with some very dark striations."

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan Prouvaire, getting a big mug of coffee at the bar, can't help overhearing the conversation. "She can be maternal," he says, with a half-smile. "She's refused me coffee or wine at times, and given me vegetables instead."

[ooc: insta-slowtimes if you're okay with that, since I'm going to bed soon? otherwise, feel free to ignore! :)]

[iprotectyou]

"This is a usual thing?" Baze says, distress mingled with exasperation clear in his voice.

"She's never argued with me before! She usually just gives me what I want."

Baze pauses, looking the stranger over, and breaks into a smile.

"Where are my manners? I'm Baze Malbus. May the Force of others be with you!"

(OOC: Slowtimes are perfectly fine! Thanks for tagging in!)

[vive_lavenir]

“I wouldn’t say usual,” Jehan says, “but sometimes. When she’s feeling concerned...or mischievous.”

He smiles back, a bit shyly per his usual. “Jehan Prouvaire.” A pause. “Force of others?”

[iprotectyou]

"Hmph. Concerned. Hmph! There's nothing to be concerned about," Baze says, sticking his tongue out at the counter. If his arms weren't already folded, he'd fold them again. He misses the way his wrists used to rest on his armor, now that he's not wearing it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Jehan Prouvaire. The Force is an energy field that binds and surrounds all things. The expression is one of hope for others, meaning that other people's goodwill keeps the universe running."

[vive_lavenir]

“And you,” he echoes. “But what a marvelous idea! Can you see this Force, or sense it?”

Of course Jehan Prouvaire believes feelings, of some sort, keep the universe running. But Baze talks like he might have some special experience with it.

[iprotectyou]

"I can't, but my friend, Chirrut, can," Baze says, beaming at the mention of his friend.

"He's blind, so he uses the Force to navigate. Through it he can sense moods; other people who are more in tune with it can push and pull objects, manipulate minds, and freeze blaster bolts."

[vive_lavenir]

A friend with superpowers. Jehan knows how amazing that is. (None of his friends have what are technically considered superpowers, but he thinks their abilities count).

"That sounds wonderful," Jehan breathes. "I'm not aware of anyone with those particular abilities in my world--well, maybe sensing moods, or direction, but not the others. Is the Force a spirit? Does it have a mind?"

[iprotectyou]

"The Force isn't a spirit, necessarily, nor does it have a mind, but the saying goes, 'I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me, and I fear nothing, because all is as the Force wills it,'" Baze says, his voice taking on a lilt as he recites the mantra.

[vive_lavenir]

The lilt does not escape Jehan. “Is that a poem? Or a prayer?” Not that those things are necessarily different from each other.

[iprotectyou]

"A little of both," Baze says, grinning. He's so rarely found people this excited about the Force! Chirrut would love this guy.

"It's a mantra, one that kept my friend going through the roughest of times. His faith is amazing; he says to stop believing in the Force is to stop believing in gravity. The Force is always there, it doesn't matter if his sense of it is tenuous."

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan, wide-eyed and eager to hear more, says, “ Your friend sounds like a remarkable man. Do you share his faith?”

[iprotectyou]

"He is," Baze says, with all the conviction of a friendship forged in fire over forty-five years.

"And I do. For a time--a long time--I didn't, but now... Well, things are different. My unbelief... hurt him, and I will never willingly hurt my friend again."

Saying this, Baze is somber, almost teary. His faith in Chirrut Imwe is so, so strong, as is Baze's regret for bringing his friend harm.