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 Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 10:22 am
“The ‘beautiful and dangerous’ jungle… The very first thing that comes to mind when you hear that is an angry woman?” Xilarn repeated, his gaze narrowing on the younger man in wary, befuddled suspicion. He couldn’t rightly say he’d never had any negative experiences with the female persuasion, but somehow they still managed to avoid being immediately thought of anytime something ‘beautiful and dangerous’ was mentioned. He opened his mouth to inquire about what particular breed of women Damis engaged with. And when. And why. And what had they done to him that made them seem dangerous?
Somehow, he thought better of it before the questions left his mouth. Whatever nobles did in their spare time was clearly far beyond him. And Damissan didn’t exactly seem the type to be able to keep out of trouble, anyway. He settled for a shake of his head and a muted mutter of, “You could’ve thought of giant, man-eating flowers, or bugs that could pick you right up off the ground, but somehow you managed to conjure an image of the fairer sex… You’re a weird kid.”
Unless he was thinking specifically of Alkidike women, in which case rather than question ‘dangerous,’ it might be more apt to have concerns over what Damissan considered ‘beautiful.’ Another shake of his head and a soft scoff to go with it.
He cast the young man a quick glance, then shrugged his shoulders. “Frankly, it sounds like you need all the help you can get, so I wouldn’t worry your little bald head over questions, if I were you.” Trying to explain his reasons for being here probably wouldn’t make him come across as particularly dedicated. At the initial time of the Mataou’s offer, Xil had been frustrated and annoyed at his apparent inability to actually prevent his own son from doing anything he didn’t want Akiyal to do. The reasonable thing to do would’ve been to return home, whether anyone was there or not. Or maybe find Aki on his own time, despite warnings against doing any such thing. “I didn’t have anything better to do, I suppose. And you’re young enough that everything foolish and vile and shallow about you is open to interpretation. I don’t want to pretend like I care what’s ‘good’ for you, but being out here will be. Even if you hate it, the experience is worth it.”
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Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 10:59 am
Damis’ eyebrows arched, his expression some convoluted mix between amusement and puzzlement. “It didn’t seem far of a leap to me,” he said. “Angry women have the potential to be highly dangerous, and if it makes me strange to say that I don’t find the idea of ‘giant, man-eating flowers’ or bugs that could pick me off the ground to be particularly beautiful at all…then I suppose I am strange. Women, however…” He gave a vague, all-inclusive flick of his hand, as though it didn’t really bare explaining how clearly they met this criteria. “I think I could safely venture to guess that a woman was involved in at least half of all my near-death experiences in some manner, shape, or fashion.”
Your little bald head.
Damissan shot the man a squint. “Do you miss my hair that much?” he asked, resisting the instinct to raise a hand and brush it over his head—as he’d been prone to doing often since cutting it, still unused to the feeling of it and impossible-to-ignore sense of nakedness there where something else ‘ought’ to be. “It’s at least the second time you’ve mentioned it. I didn’t think it looked so bad myself…a fresh start, if you will, to mark the beginnings of a new journey and life outlook.”
It sounded almost doubly as hackneyed and trite aloud as it had sounded in his head. Pity. He moved on quickly.
“I suppose there are worse reasons out there to go about a thing other than ‘nothing better to do,’” Damis said, “though admittedly it doesn’t sound like the most heartening of motivations, either. Has anyone told you that you manage to take even things you are trying to present in the positive, and make them out instead in the least inspiring of ways? ‘Don’t mistake me for caring, but this will be good for you. You will probably hate it, and may be eaten by a flower, but if not, it will be good for you.’ It’s like warning a child that their vegetables do in fact taste awful and eating them will be the most miserable few minutes of their life, but they’re healthy and they ought to do so anyway.” A pause. “Not that I am a child or need to be told any such thing, but you sound like a weary parent just the same. I haven’t said that I hate anything yet. You might at least wait until I do so to begin lecturing me.”
Though it was getting hot, and the cautionary statement that high noon was the worst time to travel felt as though it were physically burning his scalp alongside the sun. Perhaps he should have invested in a hat. In Jatine, he told himself. Everything in Jatine.
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Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 12:15 pm
’At least half.’ Xilarn squinted. Half of his near-death experiences. Considering the population of Oba was probably relatively close to an even split between the genders, it made rational sense that woman would be involved in half of them. But this seemed far less important than the fact that this teenaged boy had enough of these instances to half them. Maybe it was only two. Two could be halved. Though Damissan made it sound significantly broader than that. Not particularly reassuring. “So, you’ve… Been at this preaching business for a while, then? I figured it was a new flight-of-fancy idea for you, since you didn’t seem all that familiar with it during our first encounter and your parents made it sound like a short-term endeavor, but if you’ve had more than the one violently negative experience- Well, surely you didn’t cram them all in the weeks since our meeting?” Maybe. Suddenly, the task at hand seemed full of unknowns. “What did you do to these people to make them hate you enough to want you dead…?”
Anything after that felt significantly less important, including Damis’ hair concerns. Though since they weren’t exactly in a position to be immediately threatened by scorned women (or otherwise), perhaps it wasn’t as completely relevant as it seemed in the moment. Xilarn rubbed the back of his neck and glanced back to the younger male. “Hard to miss something I wasn’t terribly familiar with in the first place,” he replied with a shrug. “More amusing than anything else. The bald look is more suited to seventy-year-old men and disgraced savages. It hardly fits a teenager. ‘New life outlook’ or not. Besides,” he glanced skyward. “You will have something to complain about if you don’t cover up. Unless you like being burned.” No telling. Clearly Damissan’s life was full of peculiar ups and down that Xilarn couldn’t and probably didn’t want to understand.
The next caught him off-guard enough that he shot Damis a look of startled confusion. “‘Least inspiring…?’” Xil repeatedly lamely. No, obviously he’d never been told that. It didn’t sound as though- Well, surely it wasn’t actually true. He scoffed. “I didn’t say you’d hate Jauhar, just that you probably wouldn’t like it, and I never said you’d be eaten by a flower, either. But I don’t want to lie to you or give you false expectations.”
He sent his companion a begrudging glower. “I haven’t even begun to start lecturing you, and frankly, I don’t see why I’d wait until after you started hating things. You might as well learn now and get it out of the way early.”
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Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 1:14 pm
Damis blinked. “No, it’s new. Relatively. We met the first day I attempted to do so publicly. My other experiences were previous, and less…” He searched for a fitting choice of phrase. “Well, there have been a number of complexities and…misunderstandings in my life. But I was mostly being theatric—I haven’t likely actually nearly died but a time or two. Including the one that brought me here. That aside, I could easily attribute several dangerous stunts and life choices to the pursuit of a pretty face’s attention, so in those instances it wouldn’t be that anyone ‘hated’ me, so much as I was…living in the moment with arguably reckless abandon. I don’t think all that many people dislike me,” he said. “But in the case of those that do, I suspect it would be the result of something I said. Some have…more easily offended sensibilities than others.”
Damis frowned, though, at the later commentary regarding his hair. “Amusing,” he repeated, trying but failing to keep any disappointment out of his tone. “Well it certainly wasn’t what I was going for,” he said, reaching and — at the risk of looking like he was actually following the older man’s advice — slipping up the hood of his cloak to cover his head. It was beginning to burn, and in this case, for once, he felt more inclined to protect his skin than his pride. “But if it makes me look older,” he added, attempting to find some positivity in the remark, “then I suppose that’s something worthwhile. If everyone were as keen to listen to ‘teenagers’ as you and they all immediately took me for one, I don’t suppose I’d ever make progress anywhere. And for your record, I will be twenty, come winter.”
With Nazakai’s lead still in his hands, he folded them before himself.
“My positive expectations at the risk of disappointment do seem to be a deeply entrenched concern of yours,” he admitted. “Surely you could manage not to lie and still present slightly less dreary prospects for the future. Didn’t you say you liked travel? How about, instead of lecturing, we discuss something actually pleasant. If you don’t like Oba, or its people, or its sand, or teenagers with opinions, what do you enjoy? If we’re going to be spending a significant amount of time together, surely there are at least a handful of things I should know about you personally.”
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Posted: Tue Mar 15, 2016 1:40 pm
'Mostly being theatric.' Xilarn frowned at the vast expanse of sand ahead. He probably didn't want to wonder over how much of the entirety of Damissan's life involved unnecessary 'theatrics,' but from his limited knowledge of the younger man, it seemed like an unfortunately high amount. Not that he could say he was surprised by such an admission. Considering how they'd run into each other originally, it was all but apparent that Damis sought out attention in unconventional ways. And though there was a bud of curiosity over what 'brought him here,' Xilarn opted instead for a possibly much-too-hopeful, "And part of the reason for the journey underway is to learn to curb your deeply entrenched desire to say the first thing that pops into your head, regardless of how ill-suited it is to your company?"
Unlikely, he decided with a soft chuckle. But a moot point, besides. "Well, it's not winter, you're not twenty, and if people don't want to listen to you, I can't say I blame them. You don't know nothing, haven't seen nothing, not been nowhere, don't know no one. There's no reason to listen to you." He clucked his tongue and scratched lightly at the back of his head. "Besides for jollies, perhaps. I can generally make a case for a good laugh." So here's hoping he managed to provide some of that, in any event. Surely the adventure wouldn't be a dull one, anyway.
"And I'm hardly making it out to be dreary," Xil muttered. "I did say Jauhar was beautiful." He scoffed his boot in the sand with a short grunt, and regretted it almost immediately as the grains managed to lodge themselves in his shoe for probably the rest of eternity. "I didn't say I disliked teenagers or opinions, either. It wouldn't put me in a great spot if I did, considering I have a son not much younger than you are, and I like him alright."
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Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 10:34 am
Damissan snorted, eyeing his company. “No,” he said. Then, after a pause, he amended, “Well, in the sense that saying the first thing that occurs to me in certain instances might be a gamble with death, then yes. I suppose there is a portion of this journey of effort that will be dedicated to…learning how to speak to the people. Without inciting their rage. And that, presumably, may involve or even require some forethought. I don't’ know ‘nothing,’ however. Nor have I been nowhere. I’ve experienced things that some haven’t, and I come with a message that no one else bears. There’s plenty of reason to listen. Besides…” He adjusted the fall of his hood, “…soon enough, I’ll have been many places, and spoken to many more. If that will lend my words more weight and credence, then all the better.”
It would have been a lie to say that the tail end of Xilarn’s commentary didn’t catch him by surprise, and Damis glanced sharply his way at it, eyebrows lifting. Perhaps it oughtn’t have surprised him. The man wasn’t young, clearly. At least into his third decade, at Damis’ best guess, but somehow, between his pessimistic humor to his general mannerisms and out-for-a-good-laugh-at-your-expense attitude, Damis hadn’t pinned him as a parent.
In retrospect, however, perhaps it did fit. He’d been protective when he hadn’t needed to be, and seemed to have ample amounts of practice at on-the-spot lecturing and sounding like he speaking to Damis as he might a child.
“A son,” Damis repeated, and then frowned as a thought occurred to him. “And yet, with your son being younger than I, you are out following me into an extensive journey? Not that I am in any position to judge…I am sure he is very capable and well cared for by his mother, but it seems a long time to spend away.”
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 4:27 pm
It sounded impossible, and likely was. Xilarn chuckled softly. Speaking to any group of people while simultaneously not ‘inciting rage’ on any front seemed solidly implausible, especially when concerned with what Damissan planned to approach these groups about. But since he’d just been accused of dreary pessimism, the older man decided not to point that out and instead settled on, “That would make you more talented than most, mm?” He rolled his eyes, hummed in amusement and rumbled, “Surely if anyone could manage it…” The rest didn’t merit more comment. Xilarn could argue the relative ‘nothingness’ of Damissan’s knowledge and inexperience as opposed to someone more seasoned, but since the younger man liked to talk for the sake of hearing his own voice (clearly), he’d surely have a counter argument for that.
Not that anything he said after that struck Xilarn any better. He might have, and it would’ve been reasonable to, expect surprise and maybe a follow-up inquiry. He had brought the topic on himself. But it wasn’t exactly one he wanted to breach. Not with Damissan. Not now. Perhaps not ever. And there was little reason to, besides. Xil trusted that Damis’ parents knew what they were talking about when they said this interest was fleeting. It wouldn’t last, and it wouldn’t be an extensive journey.
He rolled his shoulders and shook his head. It was as much of an answer as Damis was getting. It seemed better than the alternative, ’Well, he threatened to leave me if I didn’t give him space, and at the time the thought was so terrifying that the only rational course of action was to obey.’ Maybe it seemed significantly less rational now.
He whistled and flicked his fingers in a beckoning motion to summon Gadot to his immediate side. “Ahhh, well, you’ll have to forgive me,” he started as the raptrix padded closer. “I’m still not as horribly accustomed to the desert as I once was, and it’s just so damn hot and stifling down here that I can hardly stand it. You’ll be alright, though, I’m sure, for a few minutes,” ’Or an hour or four.’ “-walking on your own?” He did a quick, mock survey of the area as he mounted Gadot. “Nothing around to hurt or hamper you, ‘cept your very patient and friendly quhar. I’m sure you’re capable of entertaining yourself well enough for the time being.” He nicked his boot against his raptrix’s flank, encouraging him into a trot ahead with enough space from the others to span his wings. “Don’t bore the dunes with your commentary, yeah?” He encouraged in the instant before his beast kicked from the sand and beat his wings toward the sky.
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Posted: Mon Mar 21, 2016 8:27 am
Admittedly, Damissan expected something. Yes, thus far Xilarn had shown a distinctly closed attitude towards discussing his family — a point of curiosity, certainly — but in this case he had mentioned the son in question specifically. Surely—
But no.
With a grunt and a roll of his shoulders the topic was ‘addressed,’ dismissed, and ignored entirely afterward without a word on the subject as, instead, the older man called his beast to him. Damissan eyed the exchange, still leery of the beast, and miffed at being so casually dismissed. The feeling was nothing compared to what it amplified to when the man mounted, and made to take off. He shook his head, disbelieving.
“We only just began walking,” he objected. “Even if you’ve been out for some time, you’re a native and can’t be that easily worn by the heat. Besides, it will be hotter, surely, further up. You aren’t actually going to—you’re flying that—?” It was as far as he got, before the answer became evident, and he gave some combination of a yelp and a scoff, torn between surprise at the take off and—well, surprise at the take off of a different sort. “How long is a few minutes?”
Perhaps it wouldn’t matter.
Surely it didn’t matter. He’d been intending originally to travel alone regardless, hadn’t he? He didn’t need company.
Damissan pursed his lips. Sheilding his eyes, he squinted upwards, to the dark shape that was his new ‘guard’ and his beast, then down to the shadow that they made, skittering along the sand, and finally out, over the rolling dunes to the far burning horizon. He gave a grunt of a sigh, and glanced to Nazakai. The beast looked as unmoved and unimpressed as ever, maintaining his steady plod.
“Well,” Damissan said at length. “Since it is just you and I, it seems, how would you like to be educated in divine truth and the holy might of our one true God?”
Nazakai’s soft, flared-nostril snort would have to suffice as acceptance and invitation.
It was enough, at least for the moment, for Damissan.
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