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[archademode]

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[archademode]

Much the same, in fact. I have spent too long away from my own kind— from the living, as you say— and thus returned to a place so ordered with life and structure...

[A soft noise, pinned against the back of his throat.]

Perhaps I no longer remember how to function in such a world.

[littlemissfutility]

[ She doesn't have the heart to explain what she means by the living--but the general sense is exactly what she means. Orderly, structured, full of people who already know the rules. And it still feels like there's got to be a catch somewhere. ]

It's not that hard. [ It's a fake-it-til-you-make-it sort of comment, something she wishes were as true as she's trying to make it sound. ] You just gotta...practice, I guess.

[archademode]

And that is why you chose diplomacy?

[What, after all, could make for better practice than that.]

[littlemissfutility]

No. It was just...the only one that made sense, I guess.

strangles dreamwidth gently for concealing this

[archademode]

Made sense?

[How so, Beth?]

[littlemissfutility]

Yeah. I mean...I don't wanna fight anymore. I don't wanna sleep in the woods all the time anymore. I didn't, um, get to finish school. So not Forces, or Scouting, or Research. Diplomacy's kinda all that's left.

[archademode]

It will suit you in due time, have faith.

[Her personality is warm enough, her presence presumed welcome— even by someone as dour as him.]

Tell me, have you met many others yet?

[Trouble or comfort, he would hear it all.]

[littlemissfutility]

I have faith.

[ Helpful, pleasant, without hesitation. ]

Yeah, a couple of people. Byerly, Amos, Wysteria, Derrica...

When'd you join Riftwatch?

[archademode]

Ah, so you've met Byerly already. Perhaps my counsel was unnecessary, then.

[Still, he has a feeling the Head of Diplomacy will have given her no trouble regardless. The man has a soft heart somewhere in his uniquely thin-boned body.]

Not long before you. Barely a week's time.

[Deceptive, perhaps, how well acclimated he seems when discussing it at large, but that's a matter of his nature and nothing more.

Read: he's fucking old.]

[littlemissfutility]

No, it was really helpful.

[ The last time she had a job to do, it wasn't one where she could trust anyone around her. Anything that tells her a little more about the people in charge here is good. ]

Have you talked to many people yet?

[archademode]

Too many.

[It hardly fits him, not after an eternity of solitude— not even before that, in his shortened life as a Judge Magister of Archades: he'd benefited from the distance of leadership, the necessity of adopted guises and crueler cast shadows.

Here, now, he simply acts as ally and aide, and it taxes him all the more for it.]

[littlemissfutility]

You don't like talking to people, huh.

[ Still friendly, just a little teasing. ]

[archademode]

[He matches that tone with the barest catch of his own breath; he's well aware of his own shortcomings, if nothing else.]

It has never suited me.

[littlemissfutility]

I dunno. You're doing okay right now.

[archademode]

Distance, I find, makes the matter more palatable.

[A pause, his voice lighter than usual regardless:]

Though if you believe my efforts sufficient, I shudder to think of what contact with mankind you've held previously.

[littlemissfutility]

[ Beth laughs, just a little breath of a sound. ]

Some people like talking even less than you. Especially when you can't get any distance.

[ My friend, Daryl-- is how she wants to go on, but the thought of talking about people she'll never see again makes her chest feel like it's folding in on itself. And talking about Daryl in particular, trying to get across all of him without betraying his trust--it just doesn't seem possible. ]

Maybe you just need practice.

[archademode]

[There is something to be said of old dogs and new tricks. When the will of experience leaves you, little else rises in its place— he cannot claim to have either want or need of practice, he cannot claim to have much at all here, beyond a desire to prove usefulness one last time.

But of course, bright as the spark of her hope seems to be, she need not know this.]

...Perhaps.

Unfortunately I have little time to spare between assigned work and necessary reports. [This? This is how he gracefully declines opportunity for change.]

[littlemissfutility]

...Yeah.

[ A little disappointed--maybe. Just kind of quiet again, that yeah. And then a little silence, and then: ]

What're you working on now?

[archademode]

Reading.

Commander Flint claims he holds little use for a man without hobbies. I disagree, but I've no right to refute his claims, and as such...

[Well, here we are, in essence.]

He has granted me a book, supposedly in the hopes that it might enlighten me.

[littlemissfutility]

Is it good?

[ She's guessing not, considering he's talking to her instead of reading it, but still. ]

[archademode]

I cannot say what constitutes decency or enjoyment here.

[No, he doesn’t like it.]

The matter of willful rebellion is one I am already familiar with— but there is a difference between man against man, and man against the cruelties of gods.

If this is Commander Flint’s viewpoint, I do not share it.

[littlemissfutility]

...Sounds kinda intense.

[ Commander Flint, she knows, is the head of Forces, but beyond that, he's a mystery to her. An intense mystery, now. ]

Maybe you could have a different hobby. What'd you do at home?

[archademode]

Fought.

[littlemissfutility]

That's it?

[archademode]

[What lingers there in the quiet of dead air is a memory he can't bring himself to dislodge. To give voice to.

There was a space for it, once. More. Erased so long ago that it might as well be little more than dust, alongside the life of its people.

He inhales slowly, lets the sound serve as signal.]

That is it.