[open]

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow, Fifi, Benedict? and you
WHAT: March catch-all
WHEN: whatever this month is called
WHERE: hither and thither
NOTES: slowly piecing this together, if you want a bespoke starter please yell at me in some form

[watch this space for open prompts I promise they'll happen]

Comments

[panulus]

He has the look of a man who is trying to parse out vocabulary from context. Okay. He's got it. His eyebrows rise up a little, thoughtful. "It shows off skill, to do it well," he says, thinking of the roar of the crowd. "It will kill you fast, to do it poorly."

He sheathes them both. "I am not so fond of a shield, but I can use one, if needed."

[thereneverwas]

"Well said." Barrow smiles, hooking his thumbs in his belt.

"You know, if you told me ten years ago I'd ever stop using a shield, I wouldn't have believed you-- but it turns out there is another way. And it's more fun, besides." After a moment, he clarifies: "warhammer. Two-hander. I wanted to try one for the longest time."

[panulus]

Gannicus almost perks up, then. "I've fought a man with a warhammer. Clumsy and slow, but if you catch the bad end of one there are not words to describe the level of fucked you'll be," he says, almost cheerily. "Are you good with it?"

[thereneverwas]

Barrow laughs, a warm and cheerful sound. "I'm slow and clumsy," he confirms, "but that's as a rule, got nothing to do with the hammer." He's underselling himself, obviously-- he's still here, after all.

"Bit surprised you made it, if you caught the bad end of one."

[panulus]

"I am too quick," he says, without too much pride in his voice. He was fast, faster than most people could keep up with. It was truly what kept him alive; speed and skill. So. "But I saw many of my brothers fall to the strike."

He eyes him, a bit. "Age?"

[thereneverwas]

With the air of someone who has just completely stuck his foot in his mouth and is regretting it, Barrow takes in a little breath of air and then sighs it out, chiding himself for being so cavalier.

"Apologies, mate," he says with sincerity, "hate to hear that." It's easy to get inured to these things, when one's entire life has been dedicated to violence of some kind or another.

"...older than you," he then replies, a bit of the wryness coming back, "by a dog's age at least, I'd say."

[panulus]

"Do you?" Gannicus looks up, tilting his head a bit like a bird, or a cat might. He looks-

-he looks almost like he knows precisely Barrow is thinking. But the truth is that a gladiator's life is brutal, violent. His brothers all went in knowing they could die, and went in instead of making the only choice they could - dying another way.

"Southerners are a gentle lot, I think. None of you seem to have the taste for blood."

[thereneverwas]

It isn’t the doubt or the accusation of softness that bothers him, really- it’s the questioning of whether he means what he said.

“…excuse me?” Barrow says, his tone chilling slightly, but he’s open to believing he’s misunderstood the situation.

[panulus]

Gannicus just looks at him, slightly flat, but there is curiosity in the way he looks at him. "In Tevinter, no one would say sorry for a dead gladiator. They scream for it, you know. When someone dies, in arena."

It's hard to tell if Gannicus likes the idea or not; the truth isn't so simple. He loved the glory, the accolades, but he was a slave and everyone he loved had their lives offered up for entertainment. He loved the glory and hated the truth of it, lived and died for the rush of adrenaline, and found anyone who enjoyed it disgusting.

[thereneverwas]

“Well,” Barrow muses, processing this new information, “this isn’t Tevinter.”

There’s a sensitivity in his face as he says this: Gannicus isn’t wrong to feel as he does, but perhaps he’ll soon see that life is, at least somewhat, rather valued here.

“Losing a comrade isn’t easy, no matter where you are.”

[panulus]

There's a pause. A consideration. Finally a nod, just a little terse, but not cold. It's-

-strange. To imagine that people here think he has more value than just the way he can twist, turn, and jump.

"I've seen you about."

[thereneverwas]

"Aye? Doing noble and manly things, I hope."

The smile reappears on Barrow's face, and it's quite clear by the way his posture remains relaxed that he is not actually concerned about how noble or manly his activities were.

[panulus]

"Watching training," he clarifies, which could be noble and manly, frankly. For Gannicus, anyway.

"Are you watching for reason?"

[thereneverwas]

Oh. Right.

"I make myself available for weapons training," he explains, gesturing back toward his little pavilion, "upon request. Some recruits show up having never held a blade in their lives."

He scratches at the stubble on his cheek, still smiling pleasantly.

"Hope you don't mind my saying so, but we could use a quick hand like yours for the more advanced sorts. Teaching, sparring, the like. Whatever you've time for."

[panulus]

He considers it a moment. "I know how the Vintish train their soldiers, for all I am not one," he says. That, by itself, is likely a benefit to Riftwatch, even if his skill wasn't one.

He looks to the side, and then back forward. "I could help." He's joined this organization, so he may as well do what he needs to do.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow nods, pleased by the answer. "Just, you know, don't go too hard on the ones who've never done it before," he adds-- it seems like something that's important to say-- and offers his hand to Gannicus in a gesture of agreement.

"Glad to have you here."

[panulus]

He laughs. "Don't put beginners on my path," he says, in easy reply.

But he gets the point.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow tips his head in an uncertain smile, with a look in his eye similar to when he questioned Gannicus before-- really?-- but he lets it slide.

"Let me know if you need anything. We've got the practice weapons over there," he nods back to the pavilion setup, "and, you know. First aid things."

[panulus]

"Do you have a medic-" he pauses. The word medicus sits on his tongue, old fashioned and a little bit foreign. He's clearly trying to speak plainly, and it's difficult. "Do you have a healer?" he tries, again.

[thereneverwas]

"Oh, well, not on-hand," Barrow muses, "but easily reached, in a pinch. Head healer's name is, ah," he can't help but laugh a bit, "Strange."

[panulus]

He stands there, his eyebrows up, expectant. "Well?" he asks, after a moment. "What is it?"

[thereneverwas]

Barrow stares at him, his own eyebrows raised.

"Mm?" he intones, like he isn't quite sure what Gannicus is asking.

[panulus]

A regular comedy duo. "What is the strange name?"

[thereneverwas]

A beat.

"Strange," Barrow clarifies. "His name is Strange."

[panulus]

"Yes, so you said," he says, again, clearly getting frustrated. "Is it a rifter name?"