deercountry | Sun rises, night falls, sometimes the sky calls...

"I know," she said quietly. "I've met four different Sam Winchesters. Five, by some definitions."

Were you an entirely different person without your soul? She honestly didn't know. It was probably a question better suited to educated scholars. He certainly had seemed different at the end.

The end.

Ariadne was still kind of hurting from that. If only because Vira-Lorr's vision had left her feeling like...like there was some kind of future with Sam...

Oh well. It was silly to think about.

"Three Dean Winchesters, I think," she added.

"Yeah.. yeah, so have I. They never can decide if they hate me or not, either. It's whiplash. I think those guys are allergic to the multiverse."

"I think they're the multiverse's favorites." If it was a thinking, living entity, anyway. And Ariadne wasn't sure if it was or not.

Another question to leave to those who were much smarter and wiser.

But she did make a point to scold Dean next time she saw him, if he was being mean to Raleigh.

"I want to believe there's some kind of...I don't know. Pattern. Pattern to the people it chooses. But I haven't figured anything out yet."

Edited 2022-02-10 21:31 (UTC)

Favorites.. yeah, maybe. Or maybe just favorites to torture.

But he gives her thought some room to ferbulate in his own head.

There's a pattern here, alright, Yancy says from behind him. This time Raleigh can't stop himself from glancing. Are you going to be useful or not, man?

Yancy looks up from the mobile and raises an eyebrow before pointing to and tapping his temple.

Right.

Asshole.

"There's a pattern," Raleigh murmurs before looking back at Ariadne.

"Most of the people here have... incredible stories. Hero stories. That's something I've noticed."

"Hero stories..."

She mulled it over a moment, stealing a covert glance behind Raleigh, trying to determine what had caught his attention. Maybe just the light reflecting off of one of her mobiles. They could be startling, for a moment.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm not sure I would ever qualify as a hero, anywhere. Not like you."

"I wouldn't say I'm a hero," he chuckles.

"I'm just some idiot they put in a war machine. Maybe it's about potential. Not all heroes are made in war."

If Ariadne hadn't been fond of Raleigh before, she most certainly was now. And she wasn't always quick to form an opinion. But he was just so...cheery. With such a wonderful, positive outlook.

"I like that," she said. "I like that a lot."

Maybe she would have a chance to be...a hero.

Just some advice from an old has-been. Heroes very rarely come From battle, and when they do it is always at the expense of another's life. Raleigh doesn't feel too bad about the kaiju he's taken down, but there was extreme loss of life in collateral damage. Their blood is on his hands.

He smiles at her response and sips his tea, relaxing back into his chair with a soft sigh.

"If we're splitting hairs, I think you're already a hero. Your orchard and the work you're doing here is important."

Edited 2022-02-10 23:45 (UTC)

A look of alarm flashed across her face. "Splitting hairs?"

Instinctively, she ran her hand over the length of her braid, as if she was going to protect it from...well. Something.

She knew it was foolish. Obviously, it was some kind of idiom and Raleigh wasn't actually suggesting any harm come to her hair, but she couldn't help it. It was a primal fear. An instinct. Something that had been branded on her soul from a very, very, painfully early age.

She still remembered finding Lief...

Swallowing hard, Ariadne forced herself to get go of her hair. "Thank you. That's kid of you to say."

Raleigh's brows pin high on his forehead. He looks from her to her hair and back.

"It's just a saying. My sister was attached to her hair, too."

"I apologize," she said, exhaling slowly. "I'm afraid I'm not very good with sayings. I know many languages, but the price for translating is that sometimes, you can be a bit literal. It's something I'm working on."

Poor Dean. He'd had to explain more idioms to her than anyone.

It was a wonder he still had the patience.

Raleigh would say it's Dean's own fault for speaking in code most of the time.

"Don't worry about it. I know the feeling, actually. I have five and I'm always confusing myself."

"Five?" That was admirable. "You and I might have been in the same trade, back in Valeria. I was apprenticed to the court translator."

And she knew thirty five spoken languages. Plus Elfish Hand Talk, which brought her total up to thirty five.

She decided not to say anything though. She didn't want to sound like she was bragging. Or like she was trying to wound his pride. Even if Raleigh didn't seem like a snarly male...better to be safe.

Almost a pity she doesn't. He would be in awe.

"That sounds fun. We could have been colleagues. You spoke.. Valerian there?"

He's obviously never heard of it, but that makes it even more interesting.

The corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement, although she didn't laugh at him. That would have been even ruder than bragging. "Mostly Common," she said. "Ancient Elvish was mostly only used on formal occasions. But my aunt and I had to translate for foreign ambassadors who spoke Daruc, Nysgod, Hand Talk, and all sorts of other things that Princess Amanda didn't speak."

In truth, Ariadne was reasonably sure that Amanda was more fluent in some of the other tongues than she let on. Mostly because she took advantage of being underestimated. A skill she'd passed on to Ariadne as well.

She hesitated just a moment. But she really liked Raleigh and so many people in Trench had proven themselves worthy of trust.

"I actually grew up speaking Alastrian. Which is the language of my people. Not much use for it in court, but it made for a great coded language."

A risky gamble for Ariadne, but one that might ultimately prove fruitful.

Or, more likely, immediately fruitful from the way Raleigh perks. A secret language, huh.

"Would you teach me some? How does the grammar work?"

Another startling question from Raleigh Becket. That makes at least three in a single afternoon.

Ariadne tilted her head, her eyebrows jumping a little. "No one's ever asked me that before." She shrugged a little. "Back home, Alastrians aren't exactly well-liked, though. So I guess no one would ever want to learn such a language."

Such a dirty language.

"What?"

Genuinely confused.

"If you're anything to go by then Alastrians are great. Why wouldn't they be liked?"

Edited 2022-02-13 02:27 (UTC)

"Sometimes," she said, slowly. "People are afraid of that which they can't understand. What doesn't look or sound like them. And then...sometimes, they make up stories to villainize people who are different. I don't know why. Maybe so they're not as afraid."

It wasn't that she was trying to be delicate. Ariadne was always delicate.

It was more that...she really didn't understand why people had such prejudice against Alastrians. She'd never understood. She just knew...that it was.

Except here. Here, things were different. Better.

Raleigh sits with it for a moment. It's no new story, but it's sad all the same.

He also has no problem being delicate in the matter. Raleigh Becket has gotten into his fair share of fights for the opportunity to punch a racist fuck in the face.

"I'm sorry you've experienced that. Prejudice is a horrible thing. My world has it too.. we say we're getting better but the only people saying that are the people with all the money and power. So. It's bullshit if you ask me."

"It is on the same level as cow excrement," she said, nodding her head, her eyes wide and sincere.

In the back of her mind, she was pretty sure that was an idiom she'd heard Dean use before, but she couldn't place it at the moment.

The meaning seemed...reasonably clear.

She shrugged. "I'm luckier than most of my kind. No one knows I'm Alastrian, unless I choose to let them see."

"I'm sure a lot of people wish that had the ability."

And he should leave it there because Raleigh knows he is in a place of extreme privilege. But he's also a curious beast with a fat mouth.

"Is it like.. a secret handshake or something?"

Instinctively, she curled her hands into fists at her sides. Raleigh was correct, in one sense. Certain Alastrians did share a very, very secret handshake. The kind that was best left to privacy and romance.

But the truth was looming in front of her.

No one in Deerington cared. No one in Trench seemed to either.

What was the point in lying?

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's just that..." She made a vague gesture up and down the front of her body, "...this isn't what I really look like."

An observer by nature, Raleigh watches he closely but without scrutiny. It seems like he's hit something of a sore point, but not so sore that she pivots.

He would understand if she did, though.

"Oh, I see."

That's interesting, and of course he burns with a million questions. What does that mean, what do you look like, how do you do it, can you teach me? But... it can be rude to ask about this kind of thing, especially when she's already said she's experienced racism. It's Ariadne's choice to share, and not Raleigh's place to ask. So here's the question - how do you answer that without looking like an entitled dick?

"Well..." carefully. Considered.

"I'm sure it's as nice as you look now."

Somehow, she sensed his struggle. Mostly because of the way he trailed off. When he spoke again, he said just about the last thing she would have expected. So Ariadne couldn't help it. She let out a little giggle.

Not at him. Ariadne didn't laugh at people.

It was just a soft, bell-like sound.

"I don't know about that," she said. "I suppose it depends on how much you like the color green." A lame attempt at a joke. But it was fine. It was going to be fine. "I'll show you," she continued, feeling bold, "but only if you promise not to freak out, okay?"

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