Caim of Caerleon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
voiceofanimus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
prismatica2019-09-15 07:27 pm
voiceofanimus) wrote in prismatica2019-09-15 07:27 pm
text; username: ambivalenceblack
[Caim has spent over a month contemplating exactly how to address the network or even if he should. Part of him thinks subtlety is the right pathway to take. Another part of him is convinced that he doesn't care. What does he have to hide, really? Who can really stop him?
The best thing about text is that no one can detect the uncertainty in his words or in how he phrases them. But maybe his texting is a little too perfect. In a world of shorthand and acronyms, written habits remain habits and do not die easily.]
This land is full of madness, I see. Its beasts prowling as the moons transform.
[It's a wonder the streets don't fill with blood during the cycles, considering he's of the opinion a Moonblessed beast is hardly any different from a feral one in the wild. He has yet to experience his own changes, though he doesn't feel a particular investment for or against that concept.]
I must know if there is a smithy in Lunatia.
[Obviously to defend himself against said 'beasties.' (Untrue.) He'll get a sword in one way or another. Even if he has to have someone custom make him one. Although it's probably wisest not to let Caim have a sword.]
The best thing about text is that no one can detect the uncertainty in his words or in how he phrases them. But maybe his texting is a little too perfect. In a world of shorthand and acronyms, written habits remain habits and do not die easily.]
This land is full of madness, I see. Its beasts prowling as the moons transform.
[It's a wonder the streets don't fill with blood during the cycles, considering he's of the opinion a Moonblessed beast is hardly any different from a feral one in the wild. He has yet to experience his own changes, though he doesn't feel a particular investment for or against that concept.]
I must know if there is a smithy in Lunatia.
[Obviously to defend himself against said 'beasties.' (Untrue.) He'll get a sword in one way or another. Even if he has to have someone custom make him one. Although it's probably wisest not to let Caim have a sword.]
god a week later I'm sorry
The scent of the different mushrooms used is softened by the cream and she thanks the waiter with a gracious incline of the head and a smile still wide from his not-quite-teasing as he blankly remarked on her skillset. She's already twirling up a forkful of pasta and letting it sit midair as it cools. )
That's correct, unfortunately enough. I was always in an environment where it was provided for me or I had the funds to simply buy it elsewhere, like this restaurant. And I was always traveling, often without anything but a campfire to cook over. We had these meals from various militaries you could cook with just sun or a chemical packet to heat up water without a fire to warm the food inside; it was quite tasty after years of improvements made, haha. It'd come in a little box smaller than this plate and it gave you plenty of energy to keep going.
But you're right, I've always kept busy with my work, otherwise. I'm not too picky. I just eat whatever is given to me if I don't have much choice.
( Yeah girl, sell those MREs and pocket rations and life on the road. Dummy. You have delicious pasta right in front of u, stop talkin about cardboard. )
And what about you? Did you ever cook?
PLEASE TAKE YOUR TIME. lol
He raises an eyebrow and scarcely offers her a glance. The truth is, he's trying to be inconspicuous about it. Maybe if she hadn't fixed his hair for him, he'd be a little more successful. As such, he just looks like he can't awkwardly keep eye contact, which probably isn't entirely off the mark either.
She makes mention of military and suddenly his interest is a slight bit more peaked because it's something he's rather well acquainted with. But when she says she's eaten them, there's an implication there that Caim can't help pursuing. But he'll at least have the courtesy of answering her first.]
"If one wants to consider an open fire cooking. When fire could be afforded." [Sometimes it was safer not to be lighting fires and drawing attention. Caim has probably eaten his fair share of raw food, as barbaric as that may be. Or gone without food when necessary. He's never truthfully considered the necessity of food in terms of his pact with Angelus. Undoubtedly he could probably endure more things than most could considering the nature of their bond.]
"Are you a cleric for your militia?"
[Because there is no way that this docile woman is possibly a combatant. There's not a bone in Caim that is even ready to believe that.]
I REFUSE!!! I declare, (almost) another week later
However he presents himself, she doesn't much mind. He's giving her opportunities to continue conversation and share a bit about herself and the technologies she knows, and it has his interest well enough. That's plenty, in her opinion. But mentioning the military catches his attention quite obviously. )
Mm, that was why those rations I mentioned were developed— to keep soldiers from making any fires and revealing their positions. ( As he knew, of course. ) They were artificially heated and very filling, so they kept one going on something small and easy to carry. Did you hunt, or were you more of a "stew" person?
And I suppose you could say that, yes. I lent my skills to whoever needed them. I was never attached to any particular country's forces. I was with a group of other doctors and volunteers who sort of... cleaned up after battles, and saw to poorer parts of the world. But I was trained with various militaries, yes. In wielding weapons and tactical decisions, and defensive combat. Nothing I'd ever choose to employ, most times, but it has helped me protect others. Patients, both injured or innocent, and keep our supplies from being stolen.
( She'll show him, some time. The power of CQC and aikido, to redirect and disable instead of outright harm. And, as if she hadn't said something he'll interpret as incredibly strange, she takes that first bite of pasta with clear delight in the way she closes her eyes, savoring the flavor as she chews. Very tasty. )
DON'T WORRY ABOUT ITTTTTTT.
Dark eyebrows knit together as he considers how to better answer her.]
"I ate whatever there was. I did not often travel with my men. I suspect they were more the sorts for rations." [A luxury the prince couldn't afford, evidently. No. He supposed his interest was more in trying to keep Arioch from attempting to eat him.]
[He's still contemplating all of it as she continues and humours him, which he seems to like. Easier to get people talking about themselves than him divulging information about the world he's come from or the kind of person he is. The more she says, however, the more he's looking at her... Well. He knows he's been underestimating people, but this is ridiculous. What's a woman doing in such a situation? How could she have ever found herself there? Why didn't she lose herself in more... appropriate things suiting her? He's trying to picture delicate Furiae in her position, doing those same various feats that Angela's accomplished and he just... can't.
Of course, if Furiae ever heard him call her delicate, he didn't doubt that she'd throw a tantrum.]
"You appear to be serious." [While perhaps not allergic to humour, Caim doesn't sense that she'd joke about something like this. He shakes his head.] "Those are no such proper pastimes for a woman."
[Archaic times strike again. Caim is going to end up getting beaten up by ladies if he keeps that up.]
I'M GONNA WORRY EXTRA JUST TO BE CONTRARY
That's a shame. I hope you weren't alone, then...? I don't know if I could stand it for more than a day or two.
( She's a people person through and through, and she doesn't... like being alone. She much prefers being surrounded in life and the sounds of it; people's breathing, their footsteps, their shifting in a nearby cot or sleeping bag. It all set her at ease. But he seems to be enjoying listening to her, attention rapt even as she watches his confusion break through the soil and grow, and her amusement mirrors it in turn. )
No, I don't suppose they seem like it to some. But yes, I am serious; what would proper pastimes for a woman be, where you're from?
( She doesn't seem annoyed in the least with such a statement, and his answer will give her better clarity to the sort of times he's come from. )
STOP BEING DIFFICULT.
He indulges in his pasta for many moments. Possibly too many before he decides to issue Angela an answer.]
"I had companions." [That's what she wants to hear, he assumes, and it's the truth. And that's about all he seems willing to say on the matter at this point in time.
Stay tuned for a future Caim patch update.For some reason, which he can only chalk up to curiosity, which is a frightful, dangerous kind of thing, she presses him. What pastimes do women have? Gods, as if he would know. Whatever his sister did when she wasn't watching him train is an educated guess. He assumes embroidery, her own teachings, if Inuart hadn't been in the picture, courting rituals. All the things little ladies of court do. Plus spending time with Shirley, which probably meant talking about men at court. He doesn't know. He never really asked and never really expressed an interest in much of anything like that aside from her safety. Furiae's safety had always been paramount.
A shame he's failed there, too. Caim looks reflective for some moments, subconscious toying with the bracelet adorning his left wrist. The one link he has to his heritage, his sister, their family, and the life he's long since left behind.]
"I am not a woman, so I hardly know. Were my sister here, you could ask her yourself. Our obligations were different."
nO!!!
Enjoy your pasta, dingus. She'll be glad for it, too. )
That's good, then. I'm very glad to hear as much. I can hope you'll find some here, as well. With your communication coming a bit easier now.
( She twirls her pasta speared on her fork in the sauce as he thinks on it, biting each gnocchi in half and dipping back into the sauce before the next, taking her time so he doesn't feel rushed. She can find a good tempo to follow. His reply does make her smile, though, and she shakes her head. )
Fair enough; what were your obligations, then? The time and place that I'm from, we don't quite differentiate roles or tasks by gender. The only exception being ones that require an excess of strength that most women can't build up naturally. But now many of those are carried out by machines instead of men.
no subject
He waves somewhat dismissively at the thought of companionship. He doesn't need it (aside from survival). Doesn't really want it. Things are so much easier when the only person he needs to be concerned about is himself, mostly because he has no concerns about himself. He knows himself. It's everyone else he has to look out for, especially people like Angela who are undeniably kind. That's either foolishness or she's dangerous. Quite possibly both.
"...what were your obligations, then?"
Caim cocks an eyebrow and takes a break from his eating to think about how to word a response.]
"Knowledge of country history. Strategy. Tactical knowledge. Leadership grooming. Representation, I suppose."
[All true. Not that Furiae wasn't held to some of the same standards, but... In a different way. It's different to be a princess than it is to be a prince. Or so Caim assumes. In many ways, he suspects he had a much easier time than she did.]
"I have observed that many people here come from differing worlds and traditions. It is certainly something to get accustomed to."
no subject
He waves a hand at the entire topic of companionship and it leaves her leaning on her elbow, head tipped as she considers him. His reply makes her think... )
Some form of politics, then? Perhaps an older form of nobility, as I know it...? So women were primarily figureheads and held more domestic responsibilities, I assume. Rearing children, tending to livestock, minding homes, textile work? No standardized schooling yet...?
You're right, though; I've rather enjoyed getting to know others from such different walks of life. It's quite interesting to me. I'm sorry if I'm asking too many questions. You should finish eating while it's still hot.
( She can leave him alone, honest!! )
no subject
"Not like livestock. The other things sounds more anticipated." [Again, as a woman he can't entirely say. Furiae never really spoke about such things and he never asked. It wasn't his business and she never really gave off the impression that she was upset or unhappy. Or perhaps he never noticed. Caim can't claim he's ever been the best brother. At best, he's probably been more than a little self-interested and not always willing or capable of seeing the bigger picture, as it were.] "Furiae and I had our own private schooling. Our lessons different, I assume, at a point."
[Her reassurance regains his gaze and for several moments, he simply eyes her as he does precisely as she's suggested. And it doesn't take him long to polish off his pasta. It's probably one of the best dishes he's had since he's been here. But then, Caim doesn't seem particularly finicky over what he eats. He turns his fork over, prongs down, when he's done, purely an instinctive habit it seems and hardly even notices he's still doing that. And he's probably been doing it for years.]
"You are not the first to ask me questions. You will not be the last. You are, however, the first to seem so eager for answers. Knowledge, while a noble pursuit, is also a dangerous one." [...And it's almost like a threat. He isn't outwardly meaning to do anything to her, but he knows how he is and he knows what kinds of things come his way. Angela will only ever be at risk the closer she gets to him. Caim recognises that and this isn't Midgard. He can't be complacent about it here.]
no subject
Mm, I think I understand. Still, what are we without knowledge? Monkeys in clothes, if a bit taller. I suppose it could be dangerous to a degree, but I would much rather have asked and know than to not.
( If it's a threat, then she's half-oblivious. She gets the warning in the words even without the device's ability to add an edge to its tone, but she doesn't seem to heed it. Which he'll come to find is rather typical of her. It's only a couple bites more and she's finished, as well, going to sip at her water as she passes her wrist over the reader at the other end of the table and takes a moment to dial in a tip for the waitstaff, fabric napkin pristine in her lap as she draws it up and looks over the table. She piles their dishes together and wipes the table down of any crumbs or a stray sauce spot or two, then adds the napkin to the top and leaves the pile by the edge, easy to collect. )
You're free to ask questions of your own, you know. Walk me back to the clinic?
no subject
Her words stay with him even as he watches her neatly stack up their eatery. They had people to do that for them in Caerleon. Is that not the workload of those who are employed in the restaurants? He hasn't even said it yet, but a waiter and an attendant is hardly different. Except one of those things get paid. (Although he supposes servants had their own annual pensions or whatever kingdom finances decreed appropriate for the help.) Regardless, that she's remarkably kind, and not just to him, is a strange thing to observe. She's helpful, irritatingly selfless, and seems as if she never has a moment where a part of her isn't smiling.
Caim feels, once more, that Angela at best, must be perceived as a threat. Something is simply not adding up here.
At her invitation, or her request, whichever it might be, considering he has no way of deciphering truth from fiction when it comes to the woman in question, his eyebrows knit together, evidently perplexed.]
"You seem capable enough. I doubt very much that you need an escort."
[But he isn't exactly saying no. He just doesn't think she's in need of the assistance and quite likely has some other reason for acquiring his extended companionship.]
no subject
It was a courtesy that extends to time for other guests, and other employees, and made the world a little kinder in its outward effect. A little more patience afforded to someone else down the line.
But to assume there are times she isn't smiling is a touch false. He may realize that one day, spending enough time around her. She does allow it to falter sometimes, outright fall from her lips in trusted company when she's upset, but... He'll figure it out eventually. Gauge her a little better. He's already essentially turning down her invitation as she moves to stand, and she just offers a little shrug. )
I was thinking more along the lines of you knowing where to find me if you needed the additional help with the device; and, it would be a chance to speak a little more. But if you've somewhere to be, I won't keep you. It was nice meeting you, Caim.
no subject
Yet her words bring him back to the reality of the situation. So it's not an escort mission. She simply wants to offer additional help. A part of him recognises that the assistance may be needed. Pride speaks up afterwards and tells him it is best not to get too attached. Or give her the wrong idea. Such as one where he might need the help, because there's just no way to easily admit to that. Another time, perhaps. Not this time.
She's done more than enough and he will have to ponder on that some.]
"I imagine we will find our paths crossing before you know it. Even should we not want them to. I will visit your clinic another time, Lady Angela."
[He doesn't have the courtesy to tell her to be well. A part of him thinks it, but the words won't leave him. It just wouldn't sound like him at all.]
wrapped just in time to tag dragon!caim 👀💕
No, it isn't an escort mission. Just a further invitation for company and the chance to know where to find her, but he already knows how to use the devices to a certain degree. He'll be able to look her up easily enough, or reach out if need be. This meeting and the information exchanged would just have to be plenty. She'll lead the way out of the restaurant and pause beyond the scope of the doors, smiling to the sound of "his voice" and how he chooses to phrase their parting. )
I imagine we will, you're right. I'll look forward to the next time we meet, then, and for now I'll simply say to take care of yourself.
( It's said with a gentle touch of her fingertips to her arm before it draws back and she gives a little flutter of the fingers in a wave, turning to begin the walk back across the boardwalk and down toward her clinic. Maybe she can surprise him next time with an upgrade for that text to speech feature. )