Dante (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
royalguard_style) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2015-01-01 03:28 pm
royalguard_style) wrote in tushanshu_logs2015-01-01 03:28 pm
January Catch-all
Characters: Dante and whoever crosses his path.
Date: From December 29th onwards, with some backdated exceptions.
Location: Varies.
Situation: Grumpy panhandling hobos.
Warnings/Rating: Most likely lots of swearing.
[1- Various places around Keelai]
Well, this sucked.
Fewer and fewer people trusted Dante enough to give him work, which means he was back to living in near-poverty. He was okay with that, but then a second mouth to feed came to the shell. And dammit, he was going to feed that second mouth whether it wanted to be fed or not.
So Dante got creative. He hobbled the last of his money together, bought a cheap instrument that somewhat resembled an acoustic guitar, and started playing it on the side of the road. Of course, his mind tended to wander, and people may catch him singing about decidedly personal problems. But of course, he was always upbeat and passionate; that's just good musicianship.
The odd kedan took pity on him, and a good few more were amused by the exotic music from faraway lands. And of course, since they're decidedly less poor then the foreigners right now, he's going to keep his attention on them. If a foreigner were to approach him, it would be fairly easy to get him to share what little he's managed to make, or take a request. Alternatively, someone could point out that that case seems far too thick for that instrument, and there seems to be a hidden latch.
[2- Midnight hotel-lobby]
Of course, Dante still worked here, and every three days, he can be seen back at the lobby, with an odd mix of sullenness and concern on his face. Every so often, he can be seen stopping a kedan gangster or snake at the door, once again wearing his usual nonchalant demeanor. For those used to dealing with him glaring at the door, this would seem to be almost a complete inverse of his normal behavior; he used to stare down any gangster who entered, then go back to acting like his usual goofball self. He may be evasive if asked, or he may just wave it off, depending on who asked.
[3- Midnight hotel-rooms]
And when he's not "working", he can be found sleeping. Sometimes he's sleeping in his room with the door open, sometimes he's sleeping in the hallway, and sometimes he's sleeping outside the hotel altogether, on some street. The point is, he's sleeping. A lot.
[4-Fuck that noise, let's do something else]
Date: From December 29th onwards, with some backdated exceptions.
Location: Varies.
Situation: Grumpy panhandling hobos.
Warnings/Rating: Most likely lots of swearing.
[1- Various places around Keelai]
Well, this sucked.
Fewer and fewer people trusted Dante enough to give him work, which means he was back to living in near-poverty. He was okay with that, but then a second mouth to feed came to the shell. And dammit, he was going to feed that second mouth whether it wanted to be fed or not.
So Dante got creative. He hobbled the last of his money together, bought a cheap instrument that somewhat resembled an acoustic guitar, and started playing it on the side of the road. Of course, his mind tended to wander, and people may catch him singing about decidedly personal problems. But of course, he was always upbeat and passionate; that's just good musicianship.
The odd kedan took pity on him, and a good few more were amused by the exotic music from faraway lands. And of course, since they're decidedly less poor then the foreigners right now, he's going to keep his attention on them. If a foreigner were to approach him, it would be fairly easy to get him to share what little he's managed to make, or take a request. Alternatively, someone could point out that that case seems far too thick for that instrument, and there seems to be a hidden latch.
[2- Midnight hotel-lobby]
Of course, Dante still worked here, and every three days, he can be seen back at the lobby, with an odd mix of sullenness and concern on his face. Every so often, he can be seen stopping a kedan gangster or snake at the door, once again wearing his usual nonchalant demeanor. For those used to dealing with him glaring at the door, this would seem to be almost a complete inverse of his normal behavior; he used to stare down any gangster who entered, then go back to acting like his usual goofball self. He may be evasive if asked, or he may just wave it off, depending on who asked.
[3- Midnight hotel-rooms]
And when he's not "working", he can be found sleeping. Sometimes he's sleeping in his room with the door open, sometimes he's sleeping in the hallway, and sometimes he's sleeping outside the hotel altogether, on some street. The point is, he's sleeping. A lot.
[4-Fuck that noise, let's do something else]
no subject
"Well, at first folks thought it was a trap, since the guy they were talking to was being pretty evasive. But then he turned up dead, so there goes that theory." He shrugged.
"I doubt they forget though, but popular opinion and all that." He shrugged. "You would think that they want to bat for the winning team, but it's their call."
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"Turning up dead does seem like the sort of thing one might not plan for." Arno agreed. Then again, one couldn't be sure. There was always the chance that his death had been arranged for by someone else who'd encouraged the man to lure them there, or that he'd known that he would die, simply not how or when. It was a mystery anyway, and Arno tended to find himself fairly close to those.
"Opinion does boil down to what's in fashion sometimes, doesn't it?" Or wanting not to die yourself, by speaking up against some thing or other which got you on the personal shit list of some high ranking Jacobin or Templar. "Well, I suppose I pity them, but if they decided to walk right into things, it's everyone like us I ought to be more worried about. When idiots shit the bed, it's up to them to change the sheets, right?"
no subject
"Not unless there's some kind of sickness that makes all of your organs just decide to stop working all at once." He confirmed.
"Among humans, apparently." More specifically, what the people you care about want. The best way to create sheep is to take one incredibly misguided man, and soon you have a whole family of fanatics. "I'm not sure I agree. We probably should have had an exit strategy, but we're the ones taking the brunt of this nonsense."
no subject
"Or a poison I suppose." He mused, "coward's way out, using one, but it would have the safe effect on victims, I imagine." Many would, at least. Which made him a bit relieved that Mirabeau, at least, had apparently been dosed with one of the others.
"Ah so very little changes." Sheep, apparently, were in style almost everywhere.
"As bad as all of that then? Merde," The word was drawn out into two syllables as that information became clear. "That must be getting interesting, to say the least."
no subject
"Perhaps, but it's not the most popular theory." He elaborated further. "He could stop powers from working. Popular theory is that the enemy twisted this, until he stopped himself from working."
And by 'popular', he meant 'some shady as hell skeleton dude thought of it'. But really, nobody had really investigated Evanadu's death that thoroughly, so that was as good of a theory as any. "All we really know is that the bastard we were sent here to kill was somehow responsible."
"At least this mess has been a pretty fun ride." He can't tell if he's agreeing or not. "You know, if you're into trying to put on a good face for someone you wish you could shoot in the head."
no subject
Stopping himself from working? Arno's eyebrows have been traveling in a lot of directions since he arrived here, but, really, that? It's got them all but flying off his face. "Well, just as well he's gone then, isn't it? Aside the natives turning restless, I suppose.
"Welll, that's not my favorite way to spend the afternoon, but I've done it before. We had a steward who absolutely loathed me and the feeling was mutual. It's more like hundreds of Oliviers running around instead of just the one. Not my favorite way to spend an afternoon, but I've had worse."
no subject
"I take it your world doesn't deal with magic a lot." He nodded. "It's not unheard of for power to turn on it's owner. And it sure happened a hell of a lot here."
"If you've had worse, I guess I should feel sorry for you, then." He shook his head. "Any advice for those of us who are new to dealing with this nonsense?"
no subject
"Not as such." He muses, not sure how to proceed with explaining some elements and shrugging. "There are...brushes with a few things, I suppose I could call it. When I joined my order, I had an initiation that required...some bizarre circumstances and manipulation thereof but I am not sure that it was truly magic, drugs, or something of a combination." Certainly, Arno has a few gifts that are not exactly 'normal' but he wouldn't call them magical either. Some are training some are instincts from birth and his 'special ability' of watching the particular moments in the lead up to someone's death after he's killed them...he has never quite decided how that applies. It had been something the brotherhood could USE so he'd not questioned it very much.
"Well, there was a bloody revolution going on." He explains, with a shrug. "Society does that, I'm told. It made choosing any sides or appearing to choose them a fairly bad idea, and someone I thought I trusted above all else turned on me. But as far as not being liked goes?"
Arno shrugs a little, trying to think of words to put his usual response into. "I suppose brushing it off, or at least looking like you do is the best way to get to one of them without it starting any actual fights. Getting under someone's skin but not giving them any cause to do anything else is actually pretty great." He enjoyed it as an approach anyway.
no subject
"I was under the impression that making enemies out of everyone's a bad idea." He sounded genuinely ignorant, unlike the rest off the conversation, where at he at least thought he knew what was going on. "Don't tell me that's just something everyone here told me so I'd behave myself."
"Pissing them off sounds like fun." Arno, meet Dante. He's an ass. "So I'll settle for that."
no subject
'Magic' is the sort of thing that no one honestly believes in France, and,as much as Arno knows there are devices that can change the world, those things of great power, he is not sure that they are magic as such or created by greater powers than anyone who is not an ancient can understand, or what but...Dante's making quite a lot of sense there.
"Society is considered to be reasonable now. 'Magic' does not exactly imply a man of reason, but it is...useful enough for now, as a label. And no, making enemies doesn't exactly seem like a sound theory in the long run. It's just the one society's chosen to go with at the moment."
Arno's quite the ass too, when it gets down to it. This could be fun.
"It IS quite a bit of it, actually. I have to say I find it rather invigorating. "
no subject
"Seems to me that a man of reason would understand that there's things that he just doesn't get sometimes." Dante's not fond of religion, but he's not exactly fond of science either. "But for now, it works."
"It usually is. Glad to see someone here isn't being completely stuffy about this whole mess." Tact? Pffft. Who needs that?
no subject
It really could, at that. If there were more assassins, or if Arno had access to a copy of Altair's writing, he may be able to explain it better. As it is...
"One would think." He shakes his head though. "But there are some who push their way past the stipulations anyway. If Magic allowed them to do it, I doubt they would stop.
Stuffy?" Arno has to laugh. "They ARE, aren't they? It all seems...a bit dead if that's not going to insult anyone. Subdued though. Like this is some kind of funeral for the world all of you knew once. I suppose that makes some sense but everyone's been so dull about it all. Better to enjoy it, if we can."
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He shrugged a little as he said that. "Well, we can all go and get ourselves fucked and I doubt most people would notice it. I suppose I won't be homesick any time soon, here. And disappointment does have its way of making everyone miserable. We'll only have to share in this one, I assume."
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