[Open] Long and Weary

[distant_one]

Who: D, his Left Hand, and anyone
What: D arrives and wanders around and behaves strangely.
When: Early May
Where: Various places.

Content Warnings:: None in the prompts, will be added to subject lines as needed

Just after arriving in town for the first time

Outwardly, D was perfectly calm and collected despite having just washed up on a beach as a squid. He was dressed in his familiar hat and heavily patched great coat, his sword on his back and his blue pendant around his neck.

There was no sign that this was anything other than an ordinary day for him, except perhaps the fact that he was carrying a saddle and attached saddlebag over his left shoulder. That, and every now and then the fingers of his left hand would twitch.

While looking for somewhere suitable to store the saddle for which he had no use and to claim as a place to stay, a strange noise came from the vicinity of his hand and the saddle slipped from his grasp. Rather than immediately pick up the saddle, D flexed the ungloved fingers of his left hand and squeezed his hand into a tight fist a few times.

Watching the rain around town, a couple days after arriving

D had been around the city, but mostly kept out of plain view, visible often only as a dark figure blending in with the shadow of whatever was near. He wore his normal dark clothing, but now the robe he'd been given when he arrived was worn outside the heavy coat, and still wearing a glove only on his right hand.

Reassured of his self control, D ventured into areas with more people. He found unobtrusive places around more populated areas of the city to stand and observe, seemingly paying attention only to the rain. None of myriad of insects present throughout the city would come within a few feet of him. When they drew too close, they would suddenly decide to fly very quickly away from him.

When the rain was finished, D would move on to find another location to observe, but his steps caused not even a slight ripple when he stepped on a puddle.

Practice makes perfect, in a deserted, previously quiet alleyway

Even the slight changes in this existence were enough to have D test out his abilities and test the thousands of years he'd honed his skill and precision. D was still cautious and alert; he wasn't going to practice while anyone was watching. His senses were acute enough to catch the faint sounds of footsteps, or breathing, or even a heartbeat approaching over the soft sound of fracturing stone that echoed through the evening air.

D wasn't going to let people stop, but he also wasn't going to flee, either. Anyone who followed the sound of stone breaking, sharp but not too loud, would find D still in the location he'd chosen for his practice. He was calm and unmoving, his attention on a large block of quarried stone which had once likely been part of a larger structure.

The surface of the stone was no longer even, rough-hewn wooden needles protruding at various lengths and with cracks radiating out. They formed a grid pattern so unnervingly precise from center to center of each needle that they could have been used for measurement.

Comments

[warminded]

Felwinter isn't entirely certain whether that response is serious or sarcastic. So he stares a moment longer, studying the man with an intense curiosity which is masked by the impassive grill of his helmet. It's unusual to meet someone who comes across as cold and distant as he tends to. Especially one who (he assumes) is human. He's not sure what to make of it.

"I hadn't meant to interrupt," he ventures finally. "I was hoping to see you in action. Your precision is... impressive."

[distant_one]

"The results aren't enough?" With those words D sounded much more like the teenager he appeared to be than he usually did, though there was still very little in the way of emotion in his tone.

D pulled another wooden needle, almost a foot long, from one of the deep pockets of his long coat. He didn't throw it, merely held it lightly between his fingers as he continued to speak.

"If you want me to show you, you should share something, too."

[warminded]

"It's good to know what I have to work with," he says with a tilt of his head. Or what he has to work against, as the case may be. It's difficult to tell which way this one will go.

But what might he show in return? He has his Light, of course, but the middle of town is not the place to start flaunting that around. Especially in such an enclosed space. He considers for a moment, and then simply rests a hand on the butt of the shotgun hanging at his hip.

"My weaponry is much more conventional. Hardly interesting, I'm afraid."

It's absolutely a cop-out, but perhaps it will be enough.

[distant_one]

"I see. I'm already familiar with the results of a shotgun, so I suppose that makes us even already," D responds, returning the wooden needle to one of the pockets on his long coat.

"I'm more interested in knowing why you're not breathing." A little too probing, perhaps, but D is curious and sees no pressing reason not to pry.

[warminded]

He gives just the slightest of nods in response to D's decision. There will always be another time, a better place, for a demonstration of skill. And frankly, he's more concerned by what follows. Were this man's senses really so sharp that he could pick up on something like that?

"I'm an Exo," he responds. There's no reason to hide that, at least. "A synthetic human. I don't need to breathe, though I am surprised that you noticed as much."

[distant_one]

"I see. I'm not familiar with that term. Those who walk and don't breathe aren't usually friendly where I'm from." Heavily modified cyborgs, a few others, but for the rest, lack of regular breathing was not a good sign. Especially without a heartbeat, that often meant necromancy was involved, and necromancy meant a necromancer. Noticing that was an important skill for vampire hunters, D just happened to have an unfair advantage there.

"There will be others who will notice too, even if most won't."

[warminded]

"I'm not trying to hide what I am." A lie at its core, but there is some level of truth to it. He's not afraid of people knowing that he's an Exo. They're less common than flesh-and-blood humans, certainly, but not unusual, and not unliked.

But normal Exos have human minds. They were once human themselves. Felwinter has never been. And even then, perhaps that wouldn't be an issue, but for the fact that he was a fragment of a Warmind. That is what he fears people discovering. That is what might make him a target.

"Normally it would require a scan to detect a lack of biological material. But you... saw that I wasn't breathing? Heard it? That's quite remarkable."

[distant_one]

"Missing little things like that can get someone killed in my line of work. I've met synthetic minds before but none quite like you," And the last few machines and synthetic beings D had met had not been entirely sane or willing to compromise. Since they haven't started fighting, D assumes they won't unless something happens or changes to begin a conflict.

"Are you capable of such a scan yourself?" And would it be baffled by the blue amulet that confounded the Nobility and human technology if his world, or was it different enough that it wouldn't matter. "If you scan and process it quickly enough that could be quite useful."

[warminded]

He feels a small flash of alarm at D's words. Overreacting, he tells himself, because it's only natural for someone unfamiliar with Exos to assume they are fully synthetic. It's not wholly incorrect, in a technical sense, but it is a little too close to the truth for comfort.

"Exos are not uncommon, where I am from. They were once human, and are still considered part of humanity." Though he does wonder if things are different in the worlds of others here. It's something he'll have to keep in mind. A new thing to be wary of, especially if there truly are more individuals who can dectect that he's synthetic under the greatcoat and armour.

"And no, I can't perform scans myself. My companion can, however."

A companion who is currently nowhere in sight.

[distant_one]

It's harder for D to read the Exo because the biological cues he would have otherwise read are missing. There's no breathing, nor is there a heartbeat for him to listen to. But it seems he's getting clues from somewhere else.

"You don't consider yourself part of humanity?" The 'they' was a telling word. For all that D was very different to most Dhampirs, he was still part of that strange and varied group.

D, for all that he was part human, was very far removed from humanity himself.

[warminded]

This, at least, he has an answer for. One that is the truth, though not in its entirety, carefully skirting around the matter of his own personal nature as always.

"I am what we call Risen," he replies without missing a beat. "We were reborn in the Light. Many Risen are human, but whether we can still be considered part of humanity is... a subject of debate."

Which is certainly one way of putting it.

[distant_one]

"I see. You like to tell the truth, don't you." D is accustomed enough to skirting around lines of technicality in one way or another, and he hears what's being spoken as well as what isn't. But it isn't his problem or his concern, what this living machine is or isn't.

"And your companion...?"

[warminded]

There's an uptick of tension in Felwinter as D all but calls him out on his dishonesty and evasiveness. His eyes blaze behind the visor of his helmet, but his voice is as level as ever as he replies.

"Are you implying that I should not?" On the surface, he's doubling down. But it's also something of a challenge. What reason does he have to trust D, a man who he has only just met? He doesn't even trust those he's closest to with his true nature.

"My companion is a Ghost." Which, he assumes, means something rather different to everyone else here, so he clarifies: "A machine lifeform."

Technically more a sentient paracausal energy signature in the form of a tiny, sassy drone, but who's counting?

[distant_one]

"Whatever you have to say or not say isn't much of my concern," D answered. He had been curious enough to ask, but it wasn't a topic worth pursuit if answers hadn't been easily offered.

"An interesting use of the word Ghost. Where I'm from it's used for the lingering souls of the dead or things that are mistaken for him." There's a bit of poetry to it, a synthetic ghost haunting a machine.

"You're from a very machine-centric society I take it."

[warminded]

"I'm aware of the usual meaning. Perhaps there's some irony in the name, considering that Risen are the ones who were dead."

And he says that as casually as if he were talking about the weather. Should he find it more strange than he does? Perhaps. But from his perspective, it's normal. The Risen were once dead. And the Risen will die again, hundreds, thousands of times. It's their Ghosts which give them life.

That's an interesting observation, however. Machine-centric. What an odd way to put it.

"Humanity was... advanced, if that's what you mean, though much of what they'd built was lost during the Collapse. But Ghosts were not created by humanity."