westfallcorndog | Jock vs Nerd Round 2: Lunch Chat Edition

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viatorus

Jock vs Nerd Round 2: Lunch Chat Edition

Harrowheart sits with his phone in his hands debating how to start this. He'd gotten Viatorus's number, and he fully intended to text him, but it wasn't easy. Everyone seemed to like Viatorus so much. They all vouched for him and insisted on his better qualities, but Harrow had been so rude when last they'd met, and he was certain the kid was some kind of anti-undead racist. Most of this felt pointless, but he had to try, if not for himself then for his friends.

It took him far too long to send his eventual text:

Viatorus this is Harrowheart. I looked up you're number. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot last time. Would you like to meet and try again?

He follows it up with a text of his current location. An authentic little Earth diner transplanted into the Nexus, a humble and half-clean place by the name of McDonald's. Flaccid fries and soggy burgers are universal – nay, interdimensional – and fast food joints are only appropriate for the meeting of two magical minds. Plus, there's a big playground.

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"Powerful..." Harrow repeats in a whisper. "And she likes axes, too?..."

One of his hands cups his cheek and lines up with his wrist so that he can support the weight of his head on one bent arm. He stares out the window thoughtfully while his free hand quietly drums its fingers against the table.

He must be a man of many thoughts to spend so long gazing out the window. His daze breaks with an eventual sigh, but rather than turn his head back to Viatorus he only shifts his eyes.

"I shouldn't'a been such a jerk to her. I oughta apologize to her, too, don'tcha think? You think I could... Have her number?"

Viatorus doesn't understand what this reaction is. What is Harrowheart thinking about for so long? It sort of reminds him of sitting in his father's office, waiting for the man to finish up something important which, compared to talking to him, covered a lot of things. The uncertainty and the memory this brings to mind gets him to shift uncomfortably in his seat until Harrowheart is finished thinking.

The request seems like a bad idea for so many reasons. He doesn't quite trust Isidor not to tear Harrowheart limb from limb in an expertly crafted verbal scolding. That is, not unless he gets to talk to her first and establish some rules for her. "Maybe... I... I think it might be better if I get her to contact you. If you're sure. She... She can be very sharp." Pause. "Very bristly."

Harrow scratches at his sideburn as he nods along worriedly. "I noticed. I – I mean, I don't hold it against her! I'm sure she's got good reasons to be bristly. Like the fact that I was a rude jerk. It'll just be... It'll be a good exercise in me keepin' my cool and actin' kinder to folks I wouldn't normally appreciate, right?"

He smiles, or rather he tries to. Suddenly he's not feeling so confident in himself.

"Y'know, she yelled at me before, and that wasn't so bad. I mean, it was a little bad, but I unlived. Maybe she'd feel better if she could just yell at me one more time? Get some revenge outta her system? I think I'm ready for it."

He opens his mouth as if to say something more, but he's struck by a sudden realization. After a brief pause he quietly and hesitantly asks, "She doesn't get bristly like that with you, does she?..."

Edited 2016-01-06 02:17 (UTC)

"I think she thinks you're a threat. Or a potential threat. That's why she broke her calm. And, I don't know if that will work. I guess you can try?"

Again, he doesn't understand what Harrowheart is thinking. His brow knots in a confused frown. "No. I'm her brother. I mean, sometimes we argue a little bit, but siblings do that. She's like that with outsiders, with strangers."

"She thinks I'm a threat?" Harrow rubs his chin. On one hand, that's almost a compliment, isn't it? Acknowledgement of his potential skill by an allegedly powerful mage is nothing to sneeze at. On the other hand, being a threat to people you want to befriend is the opposite of good in any way at all.

"Does she have a bodyguard of her own? Or, y'know, just any old someone who watches out for her? Girlfriend, boyfriend, magical rock golem to smash folks who bother her?"

His eyes flicker toward Viatorus's bodyguard. What's that guy up to, anyway?

The guard is totally not picking his teeth because that would be bad and reflect poorly on his employer...

Viatorus shakes his head. "She's trained to guard me, so she doesn't need anyone. Though part of our business is security, so she's not undefended at home, really. But you're an undead death knight mage who was wearing axes when you said... all those things that you said, so... sh-she probably does think you're a threat, yes. Uh. Sorry."

Harrow laughs uncomfortably. "My axes! N-no, naw, I didn't mean anything by havin' 'em. I gotta keep 'em with me. They're part of me just like magic's part of you. They got, uh..."

He glances down below the table where he's keeping his satchel. Presumably, his axes must be inside.

"My soul's bound to 'em. I can't not have 'em around. But I can work on my attitude. A-and maybe bring somethin' pleasant, so she knows I ain't out to get any of ya. And – Oh! That reminds me!"

He dips down below the table and rummages through the flaps of the satchel until he comes up with a small mason jar sealed tightly to protect a few rootless stalks of a plant. It's a flowery thing with petals like lavender and leaves like dandelion greens. His hands hover it over toward Viatorus and set it down next to his tea.

"Dreamfoil. The flower I mentioned when we met. Brew the petals like tea, drink it, and go to sleep. It'll give ya vivid dreams, sometimes ones you can control. Never have used it myself. Just heard it gives a person good ideas, if they don't mind gamblin' on a wild trip. I figured since you seemed interested in it last time..."

He shrugs one shoulder. Either Viatorus will want it or he won't.

"Soul bound..." He wonders just what that entails, what the parameters of that are. Does it work as a phylactery? Did he do it or the Lich King? A flood of questions start coming to mind, but he stays quiet. It's a good thing. He's not so terrified that curiosity has vanished, anymore.

Then the dreamfoil appears. A hand reaches out and hovers beside the glass walls of the jar, then it pulls away. Viatorus' eyes lift to look at Harrowheart uncertainly. "Are you... Are you sure? You... You wanted payment for it last time. I-I don't have anything with me to give you."

Harrow's mouth twists up, this time not at all in a smile. It shifts from side to side as he considers what to say.

"I didn't really want payment last time, man. I just... Thought I could get some cool Earth stuff outta y'all, and didn't think I'd get it any other way. I ain't really used to wanting things, and I definitely ain't used to bein' in a place where folks are mostly kind. Especially not to me and my kind. Guess at that moment I figured if I didn't weasel it outta you, I'd never get anything. But deep down, that's not really the kinda person I am. My mom would be ashamed of me if she knew I found my way to a place like this and started actin' like a greedy goblin."

He nudges the jar a fraction of an inch closer to Viatorus, pats the lid, and returns his hands to his own side of the table.

"It's yours for free, one hundred percent. I mean, it ain't much. No seeds or roots or nothin', just enough for a tea or two, but I figured it was only right to give you some to try. And if you like it, or wanna study it more? I can try and get a version you can grow."

He smiles softly, hesitantly, and waits with folded hands for Viatorus's response.

The admission gets a soft frown from the scholar. It's more disapproving than annoyed, and his gaze doesn't linger long on the death knight, soon returning to the strange plant before him.

Again, he reaches out, this time with both hands, pulling it closer with the slight bending of his fingers. "Thank you," he says quietly.

His frown deepens and smooths, his voice stays soft as he confesses, "I... I don't know if... I... It will take a bit of time for me to get used to you... being... um, undead. That's... That's not a normal thing in my world. The undead are usually cursed, or evil, they're not... nice. I-I'm sorry if I'm rude to you."

Harrow chuckles in a poor attempt to conceal his discomfort. "I, uh. Appreciate the honesty, I guess. And, y'know... You and I? We don't gotta be friends, exactly. But it'd be nice if we could get along at least a little bit. Your friends are my friends now. We're bound to bump into each other."

"I got a question, though. About cursed folks. On Earth, do most folks bring curses on themselves? Or are they mostly victims? 'Cause I'm surprised to hear a person like you who wants to help folks might hold it against someone who's cursed if it ain't their fault. Which... Ain't to say anything about whether or not my situation is my fault. Just a question, 's'all."

"We have some of both. People whose souls rotted from their evil deeds, people who were raised against their will..." His hands come together so that his fingers can intertwine, fidgeting. "It's... I don't mean to, but... Cursed people... They... They bring darkness with them. Sometimes it's not much at all. Sometimes it's just for them. Sometimes... Sometimes they attract it, and I... I can't... I can't risk that."

His breathing has hastened a notch and his hands tremble very slightly, but it's all hard to tell with it behind his twitching.

Harrowheart's eyebrows lower slowly, half in disapproval and half in curiosity. He tilts his head just slightly and watches Viatorus from the corners of his eyes.

"What do you mean? Dark magic, what... You're... Susceptible to it? You absorb it somehow? Or... Are you drawn to it?"

He leans back in his chair and raises his head to see him from a different angle. "You afraid you'll turn into a nightmare walker?"

Viatorus stares at him in much the same way he did when Harrowheart was making guesses about his sister. After a moment, he frowns a little. "There's no such thing as a nightmarewalker. Dreamwalking includes nightmares. Nightmares are a kind of dream."

"It... It doesn't matter. Let's not talk about it."

Nightmares are dreams Viatorus says. V, you pedantic little nerd. You're lucky you're so cute. Harrow actually gets a little laugh out of the description of the differences. And not a mean-spirited laugh, either! V caught him fair and square and he's willing to concede he's been educated.

Not verbally, of course, but it's implied.

He plays up an air of ultra-casualness and turns to the side, draping his arm over the back of his chair and crossing one leg over the other. He looks out the window and with a mischievous hint of a smile says, "If it ain't about corruption, I'm just gonna go ahead and assume that dark things wanna devour your magic. Considerin' how far folks go to protect ya, I figure you must be a pret-ty tasty little breather mage."

Harrowheart must know by now that Viatorus won't find humor in that. Or... maybe he honestly believes one of these times V will laugh at his undead anti-humor? Diplomacy must be his dump stat.

One of his hands waves toward the uneaten food he's ordered. With a scoff and a smile he laughs, "Better than this stuff, anyway! Do people on Earth actually eat this food?"

There might be something in the fact that he doesn't argue, doesn't correct. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all for a while, choosing instead to frown. Hard.

Every time he thinks he's discovered that Harrowheart is secretly a well meaning zombie... he manages to say something to ensure Viatorus doubts that. Viatorus doesn't like doubting people, or assuming the worst. But then, he's never had to reconcile with an undead being before.

"Yes." A pause before he adds, "I don't know why."

The kid's clammed up again. Harrow's eyebrows twitch as he focuses on keeping a neutral expression while he stares out the window. He's got to brace himself for V's expression before he turns back to see him. Aaaaand...

Yep. He's frowning. Harrow frowns in kind, but only for a second. He forces a small smile and shakes his head.

"Okay, so... Since you're new to all'a this? Free-willed undead like makin' jokes. But not the normal kinda jokes. We like... Y'know... Morbid stuff? We tease each other like that. We tease our breather friends like that. It's how we connect with each other and how we invite the livin' into our unlives. Then we expect them to make some jokes back at us eventually. Either we laugh 'cause it's good, or we groan 'cause it's bad, but really either way it's good. Y'know?

"Or... Maybe you don't like jokes? But I bet you do. I bet you've got some a-mage-ing jokes yourself. I mean, come on, Viatorus! I'm sure you can conjure up somethin' witty! I'm sure your humor'll be charming!"

Viatorus, you are always free to leave. Leave this terrible man. Listen to the evil pouring out of that mouth. Your ears do not have to take this.

Harrowheart's lesson on undead humour troubles Viatorus more, at first. The creases in his brow deepen, distress peeking through. Jokes were hard enough to work with without them being of a distasteful calibre.

But then, much to his own surprise, Viatorus finds the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile on hearing those terrible, terrible puns. If he hadn't been frowning so hard a moment ago, his smile might be wider. Instead, it's small, weak, and he ducks his head shyly. "I'm... I'm not very good at making jokes."

He got a smile. HE GOT A SMILE! It isn't easy for Harrowheart not to grin too broadly at seeing Viatorus's tiny hint of enjoyment. He'd been waiting for that most of the afternoon, and now that he's succeeded he can't go and wreck it. Not immediately, anyway. Certainly he'll wreck it later. For now he contains his eagerness and smiles only slightly more than Viatorus, just enough to light up his eyes.

"Hun, you don't gotta be good at 'em right away. You can go home and think up a good one to use on me next time we meet. Jokes're like any other craft. It takes practice, it takes listenin' and watchin'. But the good part is that once you learn a joke, you can use it over and over again on different people. After all, there's only so many ghost and skeleton puns out there for us deaders to use. If we had to make up a new one every time we'd be boned."

He winks at V and can't help but chuckle quietly to himself.

"How about... You tell me somethin' other than dreams that you like, or want to know more about, or brings you a little peace in a crazy world? Teach me what you like so we can talk about those things together, hmm?"

Like the others, the pun tugs his mouth into a smile. It's a little easier now that it's been explained that morbid jokes are acceptable. Not that he's about to be making any of his own any time soon.

The suggestion brings him back to hesitation. At least he's getting a prompt. That's helpful. So he takes a moment to think and bring together an answer. "I... I like walks, and swimming. I like water. Lakes, the sea. A-And magic, of course. I like learning new things, and learning about other people, other cultures."

Harrow nods slowly as he tries to commit these things to memory. Water. Magic. Other cultures.

"I like other cultures, too. Verity told me they speak over 800 languages in New York City. Earth must be a real special place to be full of all those kinds of folks. Maybe... Maybe you could teach me a little about Earth cultures some day? I'd really love to hear about it!" He smiles very honestly and bobs his head in an eager way.

"I'd be happy to teach you about Azeroth's cultures, too! Don't know how it is on your Earth, but I guess most Earths are full of humans? On Azeroth we got... Shoot... All sorts of folks. Tons of elves. Dwarves and gnomes and goblins. Lots of animal folks, too. Pandaren are bears, tauren are cows, worgen are..."

He rolls his eyes to shake the memory loose. "Werewolves? Sometimes a human, sometimes a wolf? They got those on your Earth?"

"I could try. I don't know all that much about modern culture. Mostly I know about... about ancient and old religious and magical practices..." Why yes, it does keep coming back to a few of the same old things. Hopefully that won't frustrate Harrowheart as it does other people.

He'd be happy enough to listen about Azeroth if Harrowheart prefers. His eyes go wide, brow lifting and then falling thoughtfully as he listens. "We have werewolves, yes. There are different kinds though. Some are cursed, but some choose to change. Some can control themselves when they change, some can't. A-And there are others. Were-bears, were-jaguars... All kinds. What are Worgen like?"

"Worgen are like that too!" Oh, no, you've got him all excited now. "Worgen are humans who're given the gift of Goldrinn, an ancient wolf god. His power's tremendous, and it can't be controlled without a ritual by the goddess of the moon, Elune. So we got feral worgen just like you got feral werewolves, and then there's the folks who underwent the ritual who're able to change at will. A whole nation of folks got turned into worgen and cleansed by Elune, and now they fight with the Alliance for the forces of goodness and freedom."

Harrow jabs one thumb into his chest and grins. He must be part of the Alliance, and his opinion is therefore wholly unbiased.

"And of course I'd like to hear about Ancient Earth! Time's all relative here anyway, right? My buddy Jim's from Future Earth, and my other pal Steve's from 1940's Earth, which... That's the past to you, right? Are you from the year two thousand?"

Suddenly he has a realization that comes with a quick gasp. He briefly forgets his manners and grips Viatorus's arm tightly with one hand. "Hold up! I just had an idea! We oughta find you a person from Ancient Earth here in the Nexus! They could tell us both all sorts of cool stuff!"

Goldrinn and Elune. He'll remember those names. It takes effort not to reach for his notebook and start jotting things down and piling on the questions. He'd like to ask about the Alliance, but that would involve asking about the enemy, which would probably bring the tone down more than he'd like right now. He'd like to delve into the details of the curse, but maybe now isn't the best time to go full on scholar on Harrowheart. They've only just come to terms with one another.

Viatorus nods. "I am. Jim and Steve are both nice, but their worlds, or lifestyles, must be so different from mine. You're going to get an awful lot of different perspectives..."

And it seems he's keen to add more. Hesitantly, Viatorus admits, "I... I've met someone here from Ancient Greece. Her name is Iphigenia... We talked a little. Maybe you'd like to talk to her too."

"Greece..." Harrow's eyes narrow and he focuses in silence on a memory that feels so distant. Did Viatorus say that word already? No, no, it was Greek, with a hard sound at the end. Probably an important distinction. He'd hate to look foolish... Oh, who is he kidding. No he wouldn't. "Is that like 'Greek'? Like your Morpheus God is Greek? So... So she might know him! Or know of him! That musta been a real trip, huh?"

Smiling, he draws his phone out from his pocket. "She got a number? I could text her, maybe meet up some time! And, here..."

He flicks through his contacts until he comes to the name Jesse, then he slides his phone across the table for Viatorus to examine the number.

"You told me to talk to Iphigenia, so I'll tell you to talk to my buddy Jesse. He's a zombie, but... Not a magic kind. His Earth's fulla zombies, and they're all caused by a disease. Not a lick of magic. So you don't gotta be scared or worried! He's real funny, real cool, real chill. Got no nose, but he's a good guy. Tell him Harrow sent ya, I'm sure it'll be a fun time."

Jock vs Nerd Round 2: Lunch Chat Edition

Now is the time to use the power of lies, V.

But he lies worse than he introduces himself!

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Viatorus and the Mystery of his Wight Guilt

It isn't assumed V feels chronic guilt/anxiety yet? XD

Viatorus deserves better than this torment. Us, though? We deserve a bad laugh.

Sounds about right ^^

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If V learns his humour from Harrowheart, there will have to be apologies made

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V should hunt down Iphigenia and learn her Ancient Greek knowledge!

V should try that again with a better set of social skills ^^

I'm a day late and a dollar short as usual, haha

^^

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