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[It's been a few days since Van arrived, under less than ideal circumstances. During that time, he felt it was probably wisest to remain incommunicado. The easiest way to assure the others from Auldrant that he was doing nothing threatening was to appear to be doing nothing threatening; and he wasn't... strictly speaking. For the most part, all he'd done was study Ms. Sage's guide -- no, memorized it. He'll have to thank her, if they ever meet. She provided him with so much valuable information; including a list of exploitable thugs.

Someone should really do something about that.

But as enlightening as Ms. Sage's writings are, man cannot live on words alone. The supplies he gathered after leaving Asch and Luke's building (...and later returning to it) were starting to run out. He wasn't particularly thrilled with the clothes he'd grabbed, either. He'd rather not wear his Oracle uniform all the time, and the rest were a bit... lacking. He'd like to think he was a striking, well-dressed man; and appearances were so important to a favorable first impression. He'd get to that later in the day. And then the library, perhaps. It was always an advantage to have more information. His first stop, though, was something he could no longer put off: the medical facilities in the battle dome. He'd have to hope he could find what he needed there.

Despite his long list of errands (and the vague concern that he'll run into people he knows and would rather not deal with yet), he'll be perfectly willing to exchange a few words with anyone else out and about. In fact, he'll make sure to at least make eye contact and give a polite nod to every person he sees. The charisma is turned up to 11 today.]

Dist: Something to discuss with you. CH#7. Tonight.

(TL;DR: Meet him in the library, the clothing shops, the battle dome, on the street... And fill this out if you would, plz)

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[He would be perfectly satisfied if she did stomp off in a huff. Does she really expect that a little girl can convince him his life's work is wrong?]

I am not trying to do anything, other than find new clothes. Luceti is full of people who have never heard of the Score. I'm going to see how they live.

No, you shouldn't.

...in my case, though, you're fine.

[he's a great many things, and "soldier" recently became one of them.]

[...This man certainly knew how to present himself, how he wanted others to see him. Someone respectable.

He extends his hand and accepts the handshake.] A pleasure. [There was a faint grin. Van seems to have left him with a good first impression.]

_{[It's an odd look on him, one that Yeager can't quite interpret. He cracks a smile at the laugh-like sound, though, as though he completely understands.]}

So you taught children as well? _{[Oh, that doesn't at all seem something Van would do without some ulterior motive. He's becoming more fascinating by the moment.]}

Wait, so you aren't planning to kill anyone? [Did that just slip out? O o p s.]

[He stares at her a moment more, a conversation they just had recently replaying in his mind. "Then just kill me and make a replica!" But a replica of Mystearica would never be his sister, not even if he taught it to cook and sang it to sleep and planted it all the flowers it could ever want.

This girl is not his sister either, at least not for the moment. The thought leaves him cold inside; indifferent enough to surprise even himself. He loves his sister. He does not care about some girl with her face, who has neither an excited smile nor a furious glare to spare for him. She is no more Mystearica than Luke is Asch.

He thought it might break his heart.

He does not care.]

...No. Nothing. [And Vandesdelca turns away.]

[Compliments, Ven may soon find, are something of a specialty for Van. Particularly those that portray him as the adult that understands. And boys Ven's age are so often misunderstood...]

That's good. It's always best to have friends you can depend on. [A tiny pause.] Were you taking these books somewhere particular? I'll carry them for you. You've been so helpful. It's the least I can do.

[...

From the mouths of children...] It's claimed the dead return here. Unpleasant for everyone involved, don't you agree?

[So don't get any ideas, brat. There's no getting rid of him that way.]

[Van responds with a polite nod. The gesture is several things at once. An indication that he won't do it again. An acknowledgment of the understand that no offense was meant. A gesture of respect for "a fellow soldier," however tenuous Giles' claim on that title may be.

Then, he turns his head a bit to glance over his shoulder, back at the dome.]

It's an understandable discomfort. [The tone is light and conversational, enough to sound like neither a statement of pity, nor some personal confession on Van's part.] I'm never entirely at ease around fon machines, myself. Too many bad experiences.

You're doing a much better job than I am, then. Where I come from, there's nothing quite like...well, any of this. It's a little exciting, even.

[And Ven's such a trusting guy, that he really has no idea. He'll just go along with this because, hey, Van seems like a nice guy.]

Well, as long as it's not too much work! Thanks, though.

[He still feels a little sheepish about this, but extra help is always appreciated.]

Anyway, I was just gonna drop 'em off on one of the tables.

Well, yeah, but stuff being 'unpleasant' never stopped you before, Commandant. [You didn't answer the question, you omnicidal maniac. And she's more concerned you'll get rid of her and Ion.]

[Dist can't help but feel exceedingly smug by Van's indignation. The thought that he's now become quite a target doesn't seem to register just yet. Dist never has been the right person to really think ahead. All he knows, and cares about, is that he's won. He's won against Van of all people!

He chuckles again, and moves away from the wall. They're done now, right? Well, he is, at least.]

Excellent! [He grins, taking a few steps toward the direction of his home.] I'm glad to hear that, truly; I'll look into things when I'm able. Now...if we're finished, I'd like to return home. Good evening, Commandant.

I won't keep you. [No one appreciates a person that wastes their time, after all; and Alexei was on his way out.] But perhaps we might speak again later?

If it wouldn't be too much trouble, might you show me how to work this sometime?

[Of course Van can figure it out for himself. It can't be more complicated than a replication machine. But teaching builds rapport, even if he's not the one doing the teaching. And rapport with the residents builds a buffer against any silly accusations that might be made later.]

I'd be happy too. [Frey's always willing to help people find their way around Luceti. He considers it kind of the duty of the people who have been here longer.]

Edited 2011-09-29 22:01 (UTC)

Only as a sword instructor. Chiefly the more promising students among the military academy, although there were a few wealthy families here and there.

[At this point, Van is perfectly aware that Yeager is feeling him out and trying to learn anything interesting. He doesn't particularly mind. Everything he's saying is, after all, perfectly true; not that there would be many ways to check his story. And beyond that, everything he's saying is painting exactly the picture he wants it to: of a respectable pillar of society.]

Of course, those students I chose myself were always more satisfying. They needed me more.[A charitable, caring pillar of society.]

_{[Yeager tends to have the enviable ability of making people practically pour out their life's stories to him, so Van's short answers are indicative of a few things. 1., that he has something to hide. 2., that he's very used to hiding things, and 3., that he's achieved the ability of doing it suavely. He's a man that knows how to choose his words without making it look like he's being choosy, that might have some ordinary person convinced of his complete openness and honesty. Yeager has met too many people like him to be entirely convinced. For that matter, he's too much like that himself.]}

How nice. So good swordmanship is important in your world? The knights in mine place much importance on it, though personally I find that view a little antiquated. _{[...And his interest moves inevitably towards the subject of warfare.]}

That is fine. You have the means to contact me. [...] Or has no one explain the journal to you yet?

[Then he should consider himself lucky that the subject of warfare is one Van knows a great deal about.]

Swords are simply convenient. Artes aren't practical in a large battle, heavy artillery can't be relied upon solely, and the more advanced a weapon is the less one should trust it in the hands of a recruit.

Of course, in skilled hands, a blade ceases being a simple tool and becomes an instrument. [Van has had the privilege of seeing some exceedingly beautiful and artful swordsmanship in his life; and perhaps even exhibiting it himself.] ...Though the same can be said for many things.

No, not at all. Lead the way.

[If she keeps bothering him, he's going to start asking her opinions on clothing.]

I don't kill for the fun of it, Tatlin. Death here wouldn't remove any problems. It isn't an option.

It is, isn't it? [Being in such a small town, no. Not really. But observing the lives of people never tainted by the Score? Intensely so.] Although from the tone of that guide and most welcomes, I don't know if everyone agrees.

Quite finished.

[He lets Dist go, chiefly because he intends to follow at a distance. Asch and Luke neglected to mention where everyone lived. Very remiss of them.

He'd really like to know.]

[He shifts his expression to a friendly if tired smile. One that looks just a little drawn around the edges. It's a calculated move, to make him less threatening. Just a bit worn out. Just in need of a little care and assistance.

One could always make use of a healer, after all. Even a barely trained one.]

It's nothing you should worry about. An old soldier like me picks up all sorts of problems. [He isn't old. He's in the prime of his life. But 27 usually sounds old, to a teenager, and he'd estimate he looks still a few years beyond that.]

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unexpected delay was unexpected

Wouldn't that mean you came in first X3?

You're good :|b

Oh hai thar. :3 Sokay; been sporadic myself

it's fine! :|b

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the latest /sob

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...............d'oh.

It's completely fine, I understand.

I am cool with late tags, no worries \o

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And Dist gloats about it for the next decade.

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Gloat while you can, Dist. Gloat while you can.

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