A little flush comes into his ears, blessedly hidden by his hood. Matthias rocks himself forward into a crouch, so he can brush hastily at the leaves. Damn. But there's a lot to go over, in the long list that she's said. Running water--like a brook? Hot running water--that'd be a hot springs, surely. Electricity, that's a word he sort of knows--lighting, or the static that comes of rubbing your hands together when you've got wool mittens on, or even chewing mint in the dark and letting the sparks pop out of your mouth, a sort of lame game that Matthias has made much of--raddyators--
"Wouldn't catch me in a bloody flying machine," he says, as he sinks to sit back down again. "What's driving the carriage if there's no horses?"
"Magic," she answers simply. "It's all done by magic."
A fact which quells her enthusiasm. It's things she misses, all of that - being warm, really warm, even in the depths of winter, and not having to rely on the limited heat a fire puts off - but it's all made by unethical hands, isn't it? Better to be without it than to be given it at the cost of her own freedom and the freedom of others. Better to be here than there.
"Magic, driving carriages? I thought mages were tops, where you're from. So why're they going about wasting their magic on driving carriages when there's horses about that could just do it for them." Hang on. "There are horses, right?"
"There's horses, yeah," she responds with a shrug. "You see the cops riding 'em sometimes. That's how you know they're all right cops, 'cause horses won't stand being near one of the Night Police."
Not relevant information for Matthias; he's not a new recruit she's teaching the ways of the world. So: "It's not like a magician's got to be sitting in there constantly making it go. They have magicians - lower-level magicians, obviously, not the sort who'll get to be Prime Minister and all that - They have them working in factories, sitting in a nice cushy office, and soon as commoners have finished losing fingers or hands to the brutal machines that build the cars, the magicians wave their hands to make them go. And everyone says, Oh, yes, so-and-so built this car. And that name isn't a commoner's."
Second to the cause of the mages is the cause of poor people, who are constantly being trodden on and ignored. And Matthias would know, as he is those people. "So there's levels to it? I thought it was, you know. All mages being shit. Magicians," he corrects, "sorry. But it's a stupid word. Not that I s'ppose you care about it sounding stupid. And the Night Police, that's like--magicians who are guards, then?"
She shakes her head. "They're werewolves," she answers. "Specially bred and trained to be obedient to the magicians. They're supposed to bring in political dissidents, but - well - a lot of the time, they just - you know. Eat whoever it is they're after, instead." She stares glumly at her knees. "Not that that's a bad thing, really. It's kept us safe more than once, someone getting killed 'stead of taken to the Tower."
Then she looks up. That was maybe too much of a confession, but...As she'd decided earlier: Matthias is all right. And it's not like he doesn't know a thing or two about dodging the authorities, right? He's never discussed it with her directly, but it doesn't take a genius to know that he was part of the mage rebellion.
"But yeah - I mean, it's like Tevinter, right? There are some that are on top, and some below them scrabbling for an advantage. Doesn't make them good. Just different."
He pulls a little face at the thought of people getting eaten, with enough regularity to merit Kitty's a lot of the time. Disgusting. And unfair. Only from the context he can tell that the Tower must be some grim place, likely of torture--and he knows enough to know how someone dying is sometimes safer. And better for them as well, really, in the end. Poor souls.
"That's true. Yeah. About it being like Tevinter, I mean. Just seems different, but I reckon that's 'cause I don't know much about it. I don't know much about Tevinter, really," which he cops to with a bit of a grimace. "They're sort of mental. S' like Nevarra. Death and weirdies there. And Tevinter is just weirdies with slaves."
"It's - a bit more complicated than that," Kitty says, but then shakes her head. She'd noticed earlier how twitchy Matthias got; it's clear he's got a great big chip on his shoulder about seeming stupid, and she doesn't want to make him feel that way.
"Doesn't matter - Anyway. But yeah. I mean, all places are sort of like that, right? Free Marches, too. Just there it's the non-mages in power, keeping down people like you."
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A little flush comes into his ears, blessedly hidden by his hood. Matthias rocks himself forward into a crouch, so he can brush hastily at the leaves. Damn. But there's a lot to go over, in the long list that she's said. Running water--like a brook? Hot running water--that'd be a hot springs, surely. Electricity, that's a word he sort of knows--lighting, or the static that comes of rubbing your hands together when you've got wool mittens on, or even chewing mint in the dark and letting the sparks pop out of your mouth, a sort of lame game that Matthias has made much of--raddyators--
"Wouldn't catch me in a bloody flying machine," he says, as he sinks to sit back down again. "What's driving the carriage if there's no horses?"
no subject
A fact which quells her enthusiasm. It's things she misses, all of that - being warm, really warm, even in the depths of winter, and not having to rely on the limited heat a fire puts off - but it's all made by unethical hands, isn't it? Better to be without it than to be given it at the cost of her own freedom and the freedom of others. Better to be here than there.
no subject
"Magic, driving carriages? I thought mages were tops, where you're from. So why're they going about wasting their magic on driving carriages when there's horses about that could just do it for them." Hang on. "There are horses, right?"
no subject
Not relevant information for Matthias; he's not a new recruit she's teaching the ways of the world. So: "It's not like a magician's got to be sitting in there constantly making it go. They have magicians - lower-level magicians, obviously, not the sort who'll get to be Prime Minister and all that - They have them working in factories, sitting in a nice cushy office, and soon as commoners have finished losing fingers or hands to the brutal machines that build the cars, the magicians wave their hands to make them go. And everyone says, Oh, yes, so-and-so built this car. And that name isn't a commoner's."
no subject
Second to the cause of the mages is the cause of poor people, who are constantly being trodden on and ignored. And Matthias would know, as he is those people. "So there's levels to it? I thought it was, you know. All mages being shit. Magicians," he corrects, "sorry. But it's a stupid word. Not that I s'ppose you care about it sounding stupid. And the Night Police, that's like--magicians who are guards, then?"
no subject
Then she looks up. That was maybe too much of a confession, but...As she'd decided earlier: Matthias is all right. And it's not like he doesn't know a thing or two about dodging the authorities, right? He's never discussed it with her directly, but it doesn't take a genius to know that he was part of the mage rebellion.
"But yeah - I mean, it's like Tevinter, right? There are some that are on top, and some below them scrabbling for an advantage. Doesn't make them good. Just different."
no subject
"That's true. Yeah. About it being like Tevinter, I mean. Just seems different, but I reckon that's 'cause I don't know much about it. I don't know much about Tevinter, really," which he cops to with a bit of a grimace. "They're sort of mental. S' like Nevarra. Death and weirdies there. And Tevinter is just weirdies with slaves."
no subject
"Doesn't matter - Anyway. But yeah. I mean, all places are sort of like that, right? Free Marches, too. Just there it's the non-mages in power, keeping down people like you."