Stratos Caelus (
auspex_caelo) wrote2019-06-23 08:39 pm
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Incognito, Incorrigible (for
smartass_captain)
Organizing a proper wedding is no small affair even on Earth. In Tamriel, without the benefit of instant communications, instant transport and year-round amenities, it requires a good deal more planning. Particularly when it comes to guests who live any distance away. Roads and seaways alike are dangerous. Bandits prowl the land routes. Inclement weather closes mountain passes and keeps ships in their berths. Everything, above all, takes time.
With spring in full flight, snows melting and roads well and truly open, the excuses for delays in invitation replies and guest arrivals are both running out. Mostly this hasn’t been an issue. The arcane side of their guest list have their own ways of sending word, and the military side have first call on the Imperial courier network. Everyone who matters is accounted for. Except, that is, for one…
In the library of the Bruma house, Stratos leans on a desk covered in papers and rubs his eyes. Another day, another absence of word. Marcella did warn him that her mother would be nigh-impossible to contact. She was almost too resigned to the fact to be grumpy about it. But Stratos had thought his connections would get him where his cousin had been unable to reach. The trouble, he sees now, is that he really can’t be sure where that is.
One guest. Perhaps it’s not a disaster if she can’t be there. But this is his mother’s sister, and they have so few near relatives left, since the War….
And he’s getting worried.
Stratos rises then, and tidies away his writing implements. He heads downstairs to his room and changes into better gear for travelling- not too warm, he doubts he’s going to end up in Skyrim – and then he goes to knock on Felix’s – well, his and Jim’s – door. Nereus is out visiting with Terentius, so there’s nothing else to distract the youngest two, nothing else that ought to be occupying them. And if they’re still resting on the Enterprise - well, he’ll just have to go there and fetch one of them.
With spring in full flight, snows melting and roads well and truly open, the excuses for delays in invitation replies and guest arrivals are both running out. Mostly this hasn’t been an issue. The arcane side of their guest list have their own ways of sending word, and the military side have first call on the Imperial courier network. Everyone who matters is accounted for. Except, that is, for one…
In the library of the Bruma house, Stratos leans on a desk covered in papers and rubs his eyes. Another day, another absence of word. Marcella did warn him that her mother would be nigh-impossible to contact. She was almost too resigned to the fact to be grumpy about it. But Stratos had thought his connections would get him where his cousin had been unable to reach. The trouble, he sees now, is that he really can’t be sure where that is.
One guest. Perhaps it’s not a disaster if she can’t be there. But this is his mother’s sister, and they have so few near relatives left, since the War….
And he’s getting worried.
Stratos rises then, and tidies away his writing implements. He heads downstairs to his room and changes into better gear for travelling- not too warm, he doubts he’s going to end up in Skyrim – and then he goes to knock on Felix’s – well, his and Jim’s – door. Nereus is out visiting with Terentius, so there’s nothing else to distract the youngest two, nothing else that ought to be occupying them. And if they’re still resting on the Enterprise - well, he’ll just have to go there and fetch one of them.
Happy 100 comments~
And this is dangerous. Because Jim Kirk has quite a lot to hide and Lartia's bound to find out he's not the kind of man who knows how to quit when he's ahead. He's specifically been trained on how not to give information away though this isn't going to be anything like torture. Jim knows his cover story well and good by now. It's less about even the lies as it is where they are and who might hear. Jim's sure that Felix's family are people that can be trusted.
The jug is still well heavy yet though not so much that he has to get out of his seat to pour their next drinks.
"I thought the whole family did. Collect secrets, that is. Doesn't everyone?" Jim nods toward the jug once he's set Lartia's cup down in front of her again. "We're both going to be glad that that's getting lighter the further in we get."
I'll drink to that~
This time she's not underestimating him. The woman drains her cup like she's been in the desert for a month and slams it back down before Jim's.
"-Hah!" A moment to catch her breath. "My turn then. Just what kind of ship do you run, captain? Merchantman, warship? One of those river barges?" Or, she's wondering, maybe something more illicit.
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Mostly Jim, at that. He takes a breath and steadies himself but he's got next to no chance to even keep up this time. He's still convincing himself to swallow down the drink when her cup clamors against the table. Well, fuck. Good thing he'd gotten one round in at least. The drink hasn't hit him yet--they're drinking too quick for it to--but it won't be long.
"Stendarr's sake...." Jim needs half a minute to catch his own breath. "Oh, that's easy. I'm an explorer. Mapmaker." Setting his cup aside. "The less traveled the better."
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He seems like he needs a minute, anyway (and Lartia's secretly not sorry to pace the drinks a little) so she doesn't pour again. Figures he won't object to her pressing the question.
"What, for the Legion?" Stratos has the aura of an officer slumming it; Jim only has the look. "Whereabouts do you sail?"
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There's so many little things that mark Jim as Other though. Things that will keep stacking up over time. There's his looks, obviously. But there's also the way he talks. How he always seems like he's seeing something for the first time (despite adapting to the unknown well). His hair is impeccable despite a job that would leave it salt ragged. Even the way he carries himself seems a little bit careless for the world he's in. For anyone truly looking the longer one watches Jim Kirk the more he looks like a square peg trying very convincingly to slip into a round hole.
"Takes..." Fuck what is the word he even wants, it is going to be harder to speak the language the further in to his cups Jim gets. "Buy in, for a big job especially when you're expected to fail, so I've been lending my skills to the lesser traveled areas of Skyrim at the time being. That's how I met Felix." Jim carefully nudges his empty cup back toward the middle of the table. "No place exciting yet. Mapping currents on the Eastern coasts is good work but it's hardly what I'd like to be studying."
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"What's that, then?"
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He knows the holds by heart now having memorized the maps. He can talk about that. If he has to. He shrugs. He's already said as much but the game does resurface in his head.
"Guess you'll find out later, maybe." Or in half a minute. Jim's really not sure he can slam down a cup anywhere close to as quick as Lartia did the last round. It was even quicker than his first had been.
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"Got it!" She calls it out immediately, pointing a slightly unsteady finger at Jim as if he were contesting it. "Got you, sailor boy. S'go on. Spill it." She pauses, reminding herself what the actual question was. She's a little out of breath, but she's definitely starting to feel the drink too. Doesn't help that she started before her nephew arrived. "What kind of mage are you? What's it you study, b'sides Imperials with more books than sense?"
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And having a chance means that Jim's getting far more competitive than he probably should be. That or the booze is talking. Probably both.
"Barely." He grouses, but waits for the question to come. And for once, it's an easy question. One he can answer honestly, even. "I'm not. A mage, I mean. Can't do magic."
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It can't be her first suspicion, if he's no mage and Stratos approves of him.
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Jim doesn't realize how petulant the scowl he's giving is. It's not actually any surprise that Felix gets along well with him when he makes faces like that. And indeed his attention wanders a moment to looking around them at the tavern they're seated in before she presses him further.
"Alchemy, a bit. Felix's teaching me. Star maps, obviously." Do they have engineering here? They must, surely. He doesn't know the word for it in Cyrodillic though. "I like to figure out how things work."
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His real answer takes a moment to digest, and she looks curious again. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere! So you've a fancy for... being some kind of artificer? Playing with devices? Marcella must love that."
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"Something like that. But there's a reason I work in map making. Above all else, I just want to see things no one has before." His other interests all pale in comparison to the freedom of the Black. The knowledge that his work is breaking new ground with every system they observe. "It's that simple."
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too much.."I wager they'd like to see that, too." Especially Stratos. Well, maybe. Depends on what kind of discovery it is. She turns the jug handle around for Jim. See, she'll play fair with Felix's man.
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He snorts. "It's kept Felix occupied so far. But he's got his own research to pursue too. Don' want him to get bored." There's a flicker of hesitation when his hand closes around the jug. He shouldn't have any more. Much more at least. One more is fine, probably. Let him just pour (carefully) for them.
Take a breath. He's going to end up spilling some of his drink in his haste to throw it back but it still won't be enough. Lartia has to wait until he's done coughing up a lung to gloat.
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"Take it easy, Cap'n Jim, what- what's the hurry? Gonna... miss your boat?" She chortles breathlessly at her own joke. They both need a second, but then she takes a deep breath and steadies herself on the table. Fixes Jim with a determined look.
"All... all right. Tell me true. How much trouble's... has he gotten you in? So far?"
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They're both more or less in order. The silence that falls over the table after she's asks goes on a beat too long. Jim's dropped his gaze into his cup several times already as their game has gone on but this time it lingers there a moment and his thumb traces the lines of magic woven in to his bracers. Magic Marcella herself put there so Jim could help bring her cousin home.
It won't drag out much further though. Jim forces himself to look up with a smile that's well practiced if not a bit lopsided.
"Nothing we couldn' get him back out've. S'all that matters."
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"Bad, huh?" More than Felix's usual fun and games. Worry stabs at her that something's happened, something real- but they're all fine, they wouldn't be holding a wedding otherwise. She raps her fingers idly on the table, focusing through the drink haze. They're fine. And they're here. That's what's important now.
"And you're still here. Stayed by him. Why? Sure that's a good idea?"
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"No place else I'd choose t'be."
Steel in his voice. He's faced hell to bring Felix back, no way is he letting the mage go now. Not after they've come this far.
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"Yeah. Yeah, you'll do all right, lad." She reaches over and pushes the jug aside- not enough left in it for another cup, anyhow. Takes a bit of fumbling at her side but she can pull out a dice bag. "You know how to play Deceiver's Dice?"
Not that it actually matters, when they're both drunk, but she'll be happy to try and teach him, if not. Either way it should lighten the mood.
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The more she stares at him the more tense he's become. When Lartia lets the subject go Jim lets out the breath he'd been holding. It takes him a bit to relax though. He's still ready for a fight but there isn't one coming. It's an odd feeling. One that is going to be handily settled with confusion when Lartia pulls out a dice bag.
He's seen Felix carry a bag of his own around but Jim's shaking his head at the question. Felix has never showed him this game. At least not that he remembers.
"Felix carries dice 'round, but I"ve never seen him play."