[ may catchall ]

[wythersake]

WHO: Isaac, Cedric, Lazar + Clarisse, others, you??
WHAT: Open & closed prompts for a bit
WHEN: Vaguely post-attacks, like enough that it isn't silly
WHERE: Here n' there
NOTES: Adding these as I go. Wildcards welcome. HMU on plurk or Discord if you want anything bespoke.

Comments

[dissolving]

"Think it's fish," Decent bet any time in Kirkwall, and don't think too hard on what's been in the water lately. "Saw scales on Frederick, so unless he's sprouting gills -"

Then the cook is probably only skinning them. Cedric digs in a pocket, comes up with a lump of scone in cloth. Passes it over.

(If he was fine to save breakfast, then he’s fine to skip it.)

[thereneverwas]

An intrigued little grunt. Fish! At least it's generally fresh, around here-- but there's a scone instead, which Barrow raises in a thankful gesture, like a toast, before biting into it.

"What're you doing rifling through paperwork, anyway?" he asks amiably, mouth half-full, "you did well against that demon. We could use you in Forces."

[dissolving]

A laugh -

"Hardly remember the demon," He remembers dropping his sword, getting taken out by a wall, and then throwing up. "If you're fishing for a pack-mule, I got afternoon shift."

Rebuilding hasn't left much to division lines. Cedric nudges the file box with a boot.

"Diplomacy needs hands. We're all on anyway, when the shit hits."

The demons, the attacks; only look at Jayce. There aren't non-combatants any longer.

[thereneverwas]

"So what if I am," Barrow pleasantly admits, polishing off the scone, "just sort'f funny, that's all. Mobius in Research, you in Diplomacy. We've got a reputation to maintain."

Clearly not, all things considered, but this is friendly teasing.

"I suppose the more people we've got convincing the enemy not to attack us, the fewer we need doing the defending."

[dissolving]

"Be nice if it worked like that. Just write the dracolisks - Hey, knock it off -"

A hand flaps, mimes chomping fangs. Cedric slings his thumbs in his belt. He's thrown his lot in for solidarity, but there's no true we here, not the way that Barrow means; that it was up North. Reckon even Keen'd sooner be alone.

He trusts Vanya. Cares for Barrow. Knows Redvers is good for it. But,

"What d'you make of him? Mobius." A shrug for explanation: "Haven't much talked."

[thereneverwas]

A chuckle at the puppet show, and Barrow stretches like he's about to get up, but thinks better of it and resettles, scratching idly at the stubble on his jaw. The food line's probably long right now, and he doesn't feel like being on his feet any longer than he must.

"He's a good sort," he replies, with clear affection, "got some funny opinions sometimes, but there when you need him. He's been through the wringer as much as anyone else."

[dissolving]

"Don't doubt it," Hard times all around. Even aristocrats are missing eyes, and librarians are - Well. He doesn't know, exactly, what librarians do when the shit hits. Hasn't caught the man in battle. "What passes for funny 'round here?"

[thereneverwas]

Barrow shrugs, shakes his head with a little laugh-- not so fast, Carsus.

"I'll let you hear it from him," he gently retorts, with a sidelong look, opting as always to remain steadfastly neutral.
"I suppose we've all got 'em, anyway." Funny opinions, that is: ask him how he feels about chickens.

[dissolving]

"Like to keep my foot out of my mouth when I can," His mouth crinkles for the glance. That’s as much explanation as the digging needs: "Never know when a man’s gonna develop strong feelings on alphabetization."

(That’s what you do with a lot of books, right?)

"Haven't seen those change for disrespect."

Harden, maybe. Mobius mostly ducked Rutyer back in that crystal mess; smart to skip the argument, the distraction. Strikes Cedric that the tactic might repeat. Shut down, withdraw if he says the wrong thing.

[thereneverwas]

"If he's got them, and you find out the hard way," Barrow muses, letting his head rest back against the stone as he looks out over the remaining wreckage,

"turn your crystal on public, be a sport."

[dissolving]

"Uh-huh," He stoops to heft the file-box. "Now you really are trying to get me moved."

His expression sobers a little. A beat, a glance over the broken courtyard, before Cedric adds:

"If you do need a hand, grab me any time. I mean that." Doesn't know shit for siege weapons, but he can carry well as another. Maybe even without throwing his back out - "Be in a world more hurt if we didn't have those bolts."

[thereneverwas]

Barrow's chuckle is deep and resonant, his eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the joke. His head lolls back to regard Cedric then, his smile fond and sincere.

"Thanks, mate," he agrees, "and you know the same goes the other way." He can be diplomatic. ...when he has to,

[dissolving]

"May take you up on that," He doesn't have the letter handy, but he knows it's there. "There's work near the front needs doing. Supply division."

Supply capture, first. That bit may not go so ugly as dicing things up to share. There are others he ought to ask first: Jayce, Strange, Vanya, Viktor, Loxley, Kostos - all named in the prior reports. Novoa, too; the only elf, and the most relevant of it.

"It'll need some cool heads."

(So that's a no, on Kostos.)

ties bow?

[thereneverwas]

"Consider me conscripted," Barrow says with a nod, "anything to get me the fuck out of this mess for a few days."