exsilium | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[Jack appears on the network. It looks as if he isn't aware he's being filmed at first; he glances around him nervously, his eyes darting from place to place.]

So-- right. You guys don't got no newsies, yeah? But I'm grown outta that business anyway, so I figure, I'll do somethin' else anyway.

[And now he focuses on the camera. His eyes are a little sunken in; his cheekbones jut out sharply from his face. The entire effect is unpleasant; he looks like he hasn't slept or eaten in quite some time. Carefully, each movement deliberate, he takes a cigarette out of his pocket; his gaze focuses on that as he speaks.]

I draw pictures. Real good, if I do say so myself. Do paints, too. You want your picture done? You want your wall painted? Maybe you're in theater, you want some sets done, or maybe you want somebody to put a, a, a mural on your wall. If it's somethin' to do with art, I can do it. I don't give a damn what it is. I'll paint you and your stupid girlfriend if you want, 's long as you pay me. Name's Jack Kelly.

[He nods sharply, once, and lights up the cigarette.]

An' in personal business, a couple thin's: this gun's good an' all, but I'm in the knives business, meself. Anybody sellin' any good blades? I don't mean no stores, all right, I ain't lookin' for no directions to no weapons shops. I'm talkin' about the good stuff, the stuff you get on the streets. I don't got much money yet, but like I said, I got a few skills I can exchange.

An' speakin' o' them: I hear I got some roommates. Miss, uh, Galadriel and some guy named Guy? Well, I ain't gonna be in at all. Not for sleepin', anyway. So don't trouble yourself with that, when you don't see me come in.

[A deliberate pause. He exhales a lungful of smoke and watches it drift upwards before adding:]

Asano Rin. I got a bone to pick with you, and I think you know why.

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Well, it would've been your right.

[ Poor gently glowing Jack. He looks over again, watches for a few seconds, fidgets, and bursts out unhappily: ] Jack, I'm sorry, I really feel awful — I can take it off with another spell, if you want.

[He lights his cigarette as he thinks it over-- anything else put on him is abhorrent, but worse is this bizarre glowing.]

Do it, then.

[ He nods, steps back, and explains it first this time— ]

This is Kyrie Eleison, which will be a physical shield around you from any blow. They're incompatible spells, so it will cancel out the Assumptio.

[ And then he casts it. With one quick, green shimmer, in a honeycomb pattern around Jack, all glowing disappears. ]

[He exhales softly, his body visibly slumping as the spell leaves him. And now he turns, meeting Ashraf's eyes with a glare.]

You do that a lot to people, then?

Well... [ He offers a shrug. ] That's my whole job, really. I usually keep it to battle, though.

I'm not talkin' about battle. Your, your friends or whoever, you do this to them without askin'?

[ well now this just gettin awkward ]

Sometimes.

[Coldly:]

Maybe you oughta knock it off.

I think I will. [ with this guy, at least. hooboy, lesson learned. He tries a small smile. ]

Well, the first drink is on me, if you're still interested. I probable owe two or three more, too.

Yeah, all right. Buy me a bottle o' whiskey and I'll call it even.

You're on. [ He nods ahead, inviting them to start walking again. ] Again, sorry. I really should have thought better.

Yeah, you should've.

[He sucks in a deep breath, letting the nicotine sooth him. A little less roughly:]

I've been through . . . a lot, these past two months. I ain't so good with surprises no more.

It's alright, you don't need to explain yourself — it was presumptuous of me.

[ He casts a questioning glance over. ]

Unless you want to.

Offerin' to be me confidante?

[ aannndd eyes forward again. no pressure.

easily: ] If it was something you were looking for.

[He smiles-- grimly, yes, but he does mean it.]

Your hair'd turn white. It'd be awful.

[And then:]

No. But thanks.

[ He takes that with a nod, and moves on. ]

Sure. But fair warning — priests from Rune-Midgard are a little sturdier than you seem to expect.

[He shakes his head.]

You were gonna tell me a story.

And I'm still going to. You might need to narrow it down a little, though.

Anythin'. I don't care what, just-- somethin' interestin'.

Well — alright.

[ He's quiet for a few seconds, considering. There's plenty of action and adventure stories to be had. A small handful of tragic ones — he'll be skipping those. But maybe something to lighten the mood is a little better.

The bar comes into sight, just as a good one occurs to him. He grins. ]

Alright, got it. So, to begin with, I should tell you that we healers usually stay back and let the warriors take on the many monsters of Rune-Midgard. But in the case of running into something undead, we're more effective than they are. A heal would do exactly what it sounds like to you, but to a ghoul, it rots their body. So, back when I was still an acolyte, I was taking advantage of that in the ruined city of Glast Heim. It's crawling with undead wraiths, druids, ghouls, things like that. If you're really careful—or stupid—you can take them on alone. Naturally, I decided I was ready for it.

[ He laughs. ]

I wasn't. I spent more time running than actually killing anything. But it meant I ran into a wayward knight, who had the idea that he could take on the creatures of Glast Heim too. I like to think my presence improved his chances a little, but neither of us were ready, really. I managed to keep both of us alive, but just barely. It's pretty safe to say our friendship began in a disaster.

[ His smile grows fond. ]

Mule Manning, his name was. And his peco— a bird that the knights raise and tame, to ride— I think he named her Jenny. He loved his peco more than any knight I'd ever met before or after. But when I say I think Jenny was smarter than Mule, that's not to say Jenny was any more clever than the usual peco.

Well, in any case, I kept in contact with my none-too-bright friend for a long time. We both got a little better at making it through the world without scraping past death quite so closely, and we helped each other out a lot. We were good friends. So good that he joked a few times that we should get married. I'd like to tell you I laughed it off, but knowing myself then, I probably just awkwardly changed the subject. But anyway, I even invited him to my ceremony— when I was finally ready to graduate from acolyte into priesthood, I mean. Now, Mule had somewhere along the line taken to calling me "Ash"— [ He says it with the short 'ah', as in Ashley. ] —Which was unusual, but I didn't mind. But when he saw me striding down the hall, proudly dressed in a priest's robes, instead of the androgynous outfit acolytes are given...

[ His story so far has taken them to a table in the back and gotten them drinks, and he pauses here to grin into his cup. ]

Poor Mule was heartbroken that I didn't graduate to priestess, like he'd expected.

[Despite himself, despite his earlier terror and poor mood, Jack finds himself grinning at the story's conclusion. He sips at his whiskey, relishing the stinging taste.]

Poor bastard. Though, uh, I dunno if it were the robes so much his mind-- I mean, no offense to him, but you ain't exactly girly.

Well, now I don't, and thanks for saying so— [ He rubs his be-stubbled chin, amused. ]

—But that wasn't always true. The first time I was young, I kept my hair long and shaved meticulously.

Your own fault, then. I used to take a knife to mine when it got past me ears.

[ He shrugs. ]

I have no defense. I thought it was — I don't know, proper, or something. I barely remember.