WHO: Loki, Erik, Adrasteia & y'all WHAT: Catch-all WHEN: Late Solace / Early August WHERE: Kirkwall NOTES: Language warning for Erik, otherwise nothing yet. Open starters in comments.
"Keep staring at that cargo and someone is going to pitch you into the harbor," comes a voice, administering what is actually fair advice. Whether or not it comes from personal experience, well.
John wasn't always a quartermaster, after all.
However, he has ascended to the docks out of a small dinghy, which is now departing. Under one arm is a large, leather-bound tome, which John keeps close as he leans his weight onto his crutch.
Loki raises a single eyebrow in question. "I suppose it's a good thing I can swim, then." Please don't push him in the water, good man, he'd rather not have to deal with whatever is in the water around here. He sincerely doubts it's that clean.
But! In the interest of... being sociable or something, Loki turns away from his watching of the water to turn towards this man. "Are you native to this world or one of us who fell through, dreaming? If you don't mind my asking."
"You could buy me a drink, before prying," says John, a man who certainly never prys.
But it seems to be an idle request, as he tips his head at Loki, moving past him to ascend the steps onto the street. This is a walk and talk situation.
"I'm native to Thedas, semi-recently of Kirkwall," is the answer, one that Loki will have to keep up with him to hear. Nevermind that he's edged out of semi-recently terms with Kirkwall, after the length of time he's been present. "But you, I assume, are the latter? And newly so?"
"There's no tavern on this island with which to buy someone a drink," Loki complains earnestly, "but if you are willing to wait for a... what is it called, a rain-check, then I can definitely provide at a later date."
Walking and talking he is more than equipped for. It's more interesting than standing still in one place, after all; Loki puts his hands into the pockets of his pants as they continue onward.
"Yes, to both. I'm still quarantined, even, though I am not ill." It's said with a bit of a shrug. He understands the use of it but that doesn't make the situation any less difficult for him. "Loki Laufeyson, at your service." Because it's polite to introduce oneself.
The look John gives him might be mistaken for scrutiny, the kind one might give a man asking for a raincheck.
But it's really for that name. John remembers Loki, remembers his brother far better. And he remembers that both of them had been native to this place, and neither of them had been overly fond of him. And neither of them had fallen through a rip in the sky.
An interesting development, for the day.
"John Silver," he returns, amiable enough. "Quarantine aside, how are you finding the Gallows?"
Unless told otherwise, Loki will continue presuming that expression is about the raincheck. Granted, he at least knows that there's a version of him, native to Thedas, and that the man did not make friends easily.
He'd be more surprised to hear that Thor hadn't, either, but. Neither here nor there.
As it is, this Loki is nodding, considering his question. "It's quite the operation." Which he knows can be a bit of a non-answer, so he continues: "The structure of the organization appears to be rather loose but that makes sense, considering how many come in and out without warning."
Not exactly a compliment but. Look, he's trying to be honest.
But Loki certainly isn't alone in his assessment, and John doesn't care to pretend otherwise. It's an accurate summation of the way Riftwatch tends to operate: loosely and with some degree of consternation and chaos.
"Yes, there doesn't tend to be much accounting for Rifters. They come and go at the Maker's whim."
Ha. The Maker.
"But we've plenty of others who are called away on personal business. And you've heard of the Inquisition by now, I assume?
"I have, yes. They are the larger military force in this region focused on the war, correct, in association with the Divine?" The Divine who, as Loki understands it, comes from a nation that hasn't chosen a side in the conflict.
Or is he confusing Rivain for Antiva? He frowns to himself, trying to untangle that thread of thought.
"It must make things difficult, on a planning level, to have so much of the volunteer force in a position to simply up and vanish without warning." Loki doesn't envy those in charge that detail.
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the docks.
John wasn't always a quartermaster, after all.
However, he has ascended to the docks out of a small dinghy, which is now departing. Under one arm is a large, leather-bound tome, which John keeps close as he leans his weight onto his crutch.
no subject
But! In the interest of... being sociable or something, Loki turns away from his watching of the water to turn towards this man. "Are you native to this world or one of us who fell through, dreaming? If you don't mind my asking."
no subject
But it seems to be an idle request, as he tips his head at Loki, moving past him to ascend the steps onto the street. This is a walk and talk situation.
"I'm native to Thedas, semi-recently of Kirkwall," is the answer, one that Loki will have to keep up with him to hear. Nevermind that he's edged out of semi-recently terms with Kirkwall, after the length of time he's been present. "But you, I assume, are the latter? And newly so?"
no subject
Walking and talking he is more than equipped for. It's more interesting than standing still in one place, after all; Loki puts his hands into the pockets of his pants as they continue onward.
"Yes, to both. I'm still quarantined, even, though I am not ill." It's said with a bit of a shrug. He understands the use of it but that doesn't make the situation any less difficult for him. "Loki Laufeyson, at your service." Because it's polite to introduce oneself.
no subject
But it's really for that name. John remembers Loki, remembers his brother far better. And he remembers that both of them had been native to this place, and neither of them had been overly fond of him. And neither of them had fallen through a rip in the sky.
An interesting development, for the day.
"John Silver," he returns, amiable enough. "Quarantine aside, how are you finding the Gallows?"
no subject
He'd be more surprised to hear that Thor hadn't, either, but. Neither here nor there.
As it is, this Loki is nodding, considering his question. "It's quite the operation." Which he knows can be a bit of a non-answer, so he continues: "The structure of the organization appears to be rather loose but that makes sense, considering how many come in and out without warning."
Not exactly a compliment but. Look, he's trying to be honest.
no subject
But Loki certainly isn't alone in his assessment, and John doesn't care to pretend otherwise. It's an accurate summation of the way Riftwatch tends to operate: loosely and with some degree of consternation and chaos.
"Yes, there doesn't tend to be much accounting for Rifters. They come and go at the Maker's whim."
Ha. The Maker.
"But we've plenty of others who are called away on personal business. And you've heard of the Inquisition by now, I assume?
no subject
Or is he confusing Rivain for Antiva? He frowns to himself, trying to untangle that thread of thought.
"It must make things difficult, on a planning level, to have so much of the volunteer force in a position to simply up and vanish without warning." Loki doesn't envy those in charge that detail.