simulsimul | another thing; w/ fafnirs and skeletonenigma; cw for suicide talk

[A bookstore. Is Kratos a reader, or is he hoping the books inside will help him learn how to communicate? Probably the latter, and it's not a bad idea.]

OK. We can't browse for long, but --

[He stops again. Did he have the foresight to leave his usual disguise in the car? Hopefully.]

Tell you what.

[Skulduggery pulls out his wallet and counts out the cash he has left. Enough for three or four books, maybe, provided the books aren't large hardcovers. Kratos seems smart enough to work it out, at any rate, so Skulduggery hands him the cash.]

Go ahead and spend it all at once. I'll be back.

[To illustrate the point, Skulduggery points at himself, then his collarbone, then the car park down the street. Then he points at Kratos, holds up a finger in an echo of his earlier sign for wait, and points at the store.]

Understand?

[The currency is nothing like Kratos has seen before, and he fingers one of the notes dubiously. It's easy enough to see the denominations, at least, though that doesn't tell him how many adds up to each note. The few coins are at least more familiar, though when he feels out the sense of them, he can tell the mineral is not particularly pure. Still, pure enough that there's nothing much he can do with it, mana-wise.

[Certainly nothing like the gald he has in one of the pouches on his belt, at least. Gold is a rare enough mineral on his own world; now he has to wonder whether it's similarly rare here. It's for the best that he doesn't need to find out.

[Of more interest is the fact that, apparently, the sluggish mana seeping from Skulduggery's collarbones is a rather urgent matter. If Skulduggery is dead underneath, then -- what will show once that illusion wears off? Likely not anything that should be seen in public.]

Yes.

[Kratos nods once with the affirmative. Sometime he'll need to get those words from Skulduggery. For now, though, he moves to enter the store. It isn't much like the stores he knows; the sheer amount of paper in this place is enough for a library on its own. If the people on this planet are as literate in text as they are in radio transmissions, spirits only know how many books there might be. The Sages would be beside themselves.

[He isn't wrong. He spends some minutes wandering around, lost among all the books and no way to tell what is what. Finally he finds a bookcase with books written in a script which looks very like the language of Mizuho, save that none of it makes any sense. There are other scripts there also -- various of them look familiar in a similar way, though some of them are only similar to languages long dead.

[It's while Kratos is sorting through these that a woman in a uniform appears to greet him cheerfully with the 'Merry Christmas!' and ask a question. Given that the colours of her clothes match that of the store, Kratos assumes she's asking if he needs any help.]

Yes. I don't understand your language.

[And he isn't sure how he's meant to ask her for a book to teach him the script. Unless -- Kratos pauses, and then beckons the woman, and takes her to the children's book in the window. He points to that, then to himself; her face lights with comprehension, and she takes him back to the bookcase where she'd found him.

[It takes significantly more time than Kratos could have wished, but he's patient as he leafs through the books she puts in his hands. Several times he has to point toward the signs and repeat 'Merry Christmas' at her to ensure he has the right language, since it seems there are many with the similar lettering.

[By the time Skulduggery returns, Kratos only has one book which looks as though it suits his needs -- a thick book of words -- and it certainly isn't going to help him learn the script or the grammar. The woman, to her credit, is being remarkably patient with him.]

[When Skulduggery walks into the shop, he's wearing a thick scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his head, a pair of large dark sunglasses, and a very fuzzy wig poking out beneath a hat pulled low over his brow. It draws more than a few strange looks, but the important thing is that not one inch of his face is visible. He'd get much worse than a few strange looks if anyone realised why he's thin as a rake.

The store's a little bigger than it looks from the outside. When Skulduggery finds Kratos and the sales assistant, there's a small pile of books on top of a display near them, and there's that particular air of determined frustration around the woman while Kratos examines what looks like a dictionary.]

Kratos, there you are. Having a bit of trouble?

[The sales assistant looks relieved.]

You speak English?

Yes, I do. Sorry to leave him here on his own. I had an emergency. [Skulduggery looks over at the dictionary.] That's not going to be very much help, I'm afraid.

[The assistant sighs.] I know. I've been trying to figure out what language he speaks so I can get him something useful.

That's not going to work. I don't think he speaks any language we know.

What?

It's a long story. [Skulduggery thinks for a moment.] You'll have to pretend he's a child. An exceptionally intelligent child, but a child nonetheless. Do you have any picture books for learning the alphabet?

Uh --

And a thesaurus, come to think of it. He might find that useful.

[The woman frowns at him. In lieu of being able to give her a reassuring smile, Skulduggery simply bows his head.] Please.

[Kratos looks toward Skulduggery before Skulduggery even says his name, his gaze piercing and face showing nothing of the unease he's feeling. He knew it was Skulduggery approaching because of that blend of elements (why is the shadow opposed to the other four, when wind and earth ought to be opposites?), but that's the only reason why.

[Without that oily surface, Skulduggery's mana proves to be crystalline and unyielding, like an undead being; yet his signature is as complete as any sentient creature. Not a monster, but undead. That's ... unnerving. The fact that Skulduggery chooses to be so completely clothed does not bode well.

[Most of the ensuing conversation goes over Kratos's head, but having been hearing the language for a while now, and with extensive experience in the manner in which language moves, there's at least one thing he manages to figure out.]

English?

[He lifts the book and taps it. Knowing the name of the language he's trying to learn would be extremely useful.]

Edited (add a thot) 2016-12-17 21:01 (UTC)

See? An exceptionally intelligent child. [Skulduggery nods at Kratos.] Yes. English. Well done.

[There's a flicker of expressions across the sales assistant's face, and in any other setting she likely would have asked -- or accused them of playing some elaborate joke on her, judging by the expressions her face is flickering through. But perhaps she's had one too many altercations with a customer, because she simply goes:] I'll see what I can find. [And leaves them alone.

Skulduggery, meanwhile, turns to Kratos and holds out his hand.] Can I have my money back, please?

[Good. They're getting somewhere, if slowly; and now Kratos knows the word for an affirmative. He lowers the book, watching the woman's shifting emotions with some degree of curiosity. What had Skulduggery said to her? Hmh.

[Skulduggery's request gets a blank look, but the hand is practically universal; Kratos finds the money Skulduggery had given him, but doesn't give it back right away. Instead he holds it up.]

Currency. Yes?

[The 'yes', in English, with a nod.]

No.

[That, in Tethe'allan, with a shake of his head. Get that out of the way first, and then he can learn the numbering system using the money.]

OK. [Skulduggery's head has tilted a little to the side in confusion.] We've established you're an exceedingly blatant thief. That's a good first step. Do you want the translation?

[He pauses, then carefully repeats the word Kratos used, following it up with:] Money. Currency. Payment.

[Whatever Skulduggery's saying, Kratos only stares back blandly, until Skulduggery's words take the cadence from earlier -- the repeat of the words. Alright. They can start there. Kratos repeats those words and then nods.]

Yes.

[Again, this is in English. He finds the smallest of the coins, hoping that the size corresponds with the number on it, and holds it up.]

Money. Currency. Payment.

[In English. Then, in Tethe'allan:]

Coin.

[He holds up the banknote and shakes his head. They've never had anything like that, on Aselia. He holds up the coin again, and repeats the word 'coin'. Then he taps the number on it, and holds up a finger on his other hand.]

One?

[Ah. He wants to know more about the denominations.

It's a good thing Kratos is exceptionally intelligent, Skulduggery reflects, or this would be much more trouble than it's worth. As it is, he's glad he let the cloaked woman get away; this is an intellectual exercise he hasn't had in a very long time.]

No. [Skulduggery holds up five fingers instead.] Five. Five cents. We do have one-cent coins -- [Four fingers lower, leaving one finger raised.] -- but Ireland avoids using them. I don't have any there. [He points at the cash Kratos has and shakes his head.

In this strangely fluid form of communication, they manage to identify most of the coins before the sales assistant returns. Skulduggery's glad for that; if Kratos's culture, whatever it may be, doesn't use banknotes, then it would have been difficult to explain that the note represented both 5 euros, and 500 cents.]

Will this help? [The assistant holds up a children's thesaurus, a little smaller than Skulduggery might have expected, but complete with pictures. She also presents an alphabet book, roughly kindergarten-level, or so Skulduggery assumes. He doesn't know much about the public education system.]

What do you think, Kratos? [He indicates the books.] Can you use these?

[It's an educational few minutes. By the time the woman returns, Kratos has 'no', the numbers zero to nine, and some level of understanding the currency system. It's still fairly nonsensical, and nothing like the system of weighted gold coins he's familiar with, but at least he should be able to use the coins.

[It's the paper notes he's more concerned about. The numbers on them go high, and he doesn't know how many coins equates to a note.

[Kratos hands the money back to Skulduggery and takes the books, flicking through them with all customary gravity. The book of letters he can see will immediately be useful. The other will as well, but it's much thinner than the book of words he already has; after a moment he concludes that's probably just as well. Between the three books he appears to have the resources from extremely basic to advanced. Surely that will be enough.

[He looks up and nods firmly.]

Yes.

Temporary exceedingly blatant thief. [Skulduggery mutters as he takes the money back, earning him an odd look from the sales assistant. He waves a hand to indicate she shouldn't pay any mind, then points to the books Kratos has.]

We'll take both of those and the dictionary, please.

[With the books scanned and paid for, Skulduggery leads Kratos back out into the street, where it's begun to snow. It's only a little flurry, and the snowflakes melt the moment they hit the ground, but it's still enough to put a scattering of white on peoples' shoulders.]

I'm a skeleton. [Skulduggery points at the dictionary.] See if you can look that up before we get to the car. Skeleton. S.

[Not that Kratos will be able to read the definition, but who knows. Maybe there'll be pictures.]

[There's Yuan's tone again. Kratos throws Skulduggery an amused glance and follows the woman to the counter where money changes hands. He pays very close attention to the transaction, looking at the numbers on the back of the books, and eyeing the machine she uses with curiosity. In comparison to the value of gald, these seem very cheap. Kratos repeats 'Merry Christmas' before they leave, and the dubious frustration in the woman's face dissolves as she smiles and says it back.

[Outside, the snow is at least familiar; but it brings with it some feelings. Kratos looks up into the sky and remembers the evening he met with Lloyd in Flanoir, pressing his hand against the locket under his shirt. Lloyd had given it back to him before he left.

['You can't go out there without us,' Lloyd had said. The thought makes Kratos smile unconsciously. He hadn't opened it until long after they'd left Aselia. He hadn't realised, until then, that Lloyd had commissioned a picture on the locket's inside door, of himself and Colette, Genis and Raine.

[Skulduggery talking pulls Kratos's attention from the sky, and he follows the other man down the street. It's obvious which book Skulduggery intends for him to use, but Kratos goes to the one with the letters instead, flipping through it until he finds the 'S'. He remembers it from the 'Christmas'. There's a few images there. A snake, a sun, a face with a 'sad' expression.

[Kratos opens the larger books as they walk, noting the order of the letters in the smaller book to find the place in the larger one. There aren't any helpful pictures in this one, and there are ... a great many words.]

Skeleton?

[It's a bit questioning. Some of the sounds are unfamiliar.]

[Ah, well. It was a bit of a long shot.]

Yes. That's me. [Skulduggery points to himself.] I'll show you what it means once we're a little more out of sight. Pity you couldn't have landed here a couple of months ago.

[At least then, there would have been a couple of skeletons in the store windows.

Time travel still isn't entirely out of the question, but more and more Skulduggery suspects that Kratos is from another world without streetlights, without paper money, and without many forms of technology Dublin takes for granted. On top of that, he still has the niggling suspicion from earlier, the vivid memory of Kratos's face settling into an irritated frown upon seeing the little decorative angel.

Again, Skulduggery wishes Valkyrie were here. Again, he has to wonder exactly what it is she hasn't been telling him.

Once Skulduggery and Kratos make it into the parking garage, which a great deal emptier than the street outside, Skulduggery looks around to make sure they're not in sight of any security cameras and then pulls his glove back just far enough to reveal the gleaming white bone underneath.]

There. Skeleton.

[So then. It's a word for Skulduggery -- but Kratos doubts it's a word for human. Kratos leafs through the books some more, and by the time he thinks to point out one of the other passersby to ask what they are, they're already inside where it's far emptier of people. He feels marginally more secure, at least. It's a building, but the ceiling and pillars are thick stone; and though he can still sense the light and lightning mana in them which indicates the presence of wiring, at least if he has to use stone he can be assured he won't risk destroying whatever power source the city uses.

[Kratos peers at the bones of Skulduggery's wrist. It's a cleaner bone than the dank, splitting bones of the skeletons Kratos is used to destroying. That matches; Skulduggery's being appears more ... whole.]

Hmh.

[With that being the only reaction Kratos continues in the direction they'd been heading. A young man moves at cross purposes to them, toward one of the stationary vehicles sitting in a marked lot. Kratos turns back to Skulduggery and inclines his head toward the young man.]

Human. Skeleton?

[The first is in Tethe'allan; the second in English, both low enough not to be noticed by the man across the way.]

[If Skulduggery still had a face, he'd be frowning. He had been hoping Kratos's reaction wouldn't be negative, of course, but he'd been prepared in case it had. What he didn't expect was no reaction at all.

And yet, there is one -- just one Skulduggery can't see. Kratos seems to understand there's a difference between what Skulduggery is and what everyone else is, but he hasn't shown any sign of surprise, either. Like he's met living skeletons before. Like the fact of Skulduggery's existence is normal to him.]

No. [Well, in a way, but that level of semantics is not one Skulduggery feels like descending to until they've gotten a little better at communicating.] Human. Mortal.

[He hesitates, and shakes his head.] Not mortal. Forget mortal. Human.

[Skulduggery would prefer not to be the one who passes on demeaning bias to their world's first interdimensional visitor. He likes to think he's better than that.]

['Not' is near enough to 'no' that Kratos gets the gist of that one, and the rest answers his question sufficiently.]

Human.

[He repeats that thoughtfully in English, then again in Tethe'allan, and comes back to Skulduggery. His gaze is probing and thoughtful as he looks at Skulduggery and Skulduggery's frankly ridiculous outfit. Skeleton, for what had obviously been bones; presumably the word for a complete bone structure of an organic being. Kratos nods toward him.]

Skulduggery. Human skeleton?

[Or is he the skeleton of something else? Their scans had shown human mana, but there had been so much of it that if there's any other sentient beings on the planet, they hadn't been able to tell from Derris-Kharlan.]

[Skulduggery doesn't answer right away, surprised yet again. When he does speak, there's a smile in his voice.]

Yes. Human skeleton.

[Which implies Kratos is familiar with skeletons, but not with human ones. That is, if Skulduggery's being perfectly honest with himself, a little terrifying.

He gestures at Kratos and asks the question before he can think it through too much.] Are you human?

[He looks human, but so do vampires. So do angels, as a matter of fact, apart from a select few obvious differences.]

[The question is obvious, and if only Skulduggery knew what a loaded one it is. Kratos answers without hesitation and a firm nod.]

Yes.

[An angelic human, perhaps; but still human. This is a distinction he's blurred too often, for too long. He does not intend to forget it again. An angelic nature, for him, should always be secondary; and it's the great tragedy of the crimes perpetuated on the other angels that their previous natures had been completely consumed by lifelessness.

[For a moment Kratos stands, half debating. He has mixed feelings about both hiding and revealing his angelic nature. He had done both, and always in the wrong moment. He does not want this to be a situation where he does the opposite of what he ought, as he has for so long. Skulduggery did not have to reveal his nature, and it seems if there's anyone on the planet with a strange state of being, it would be a sentient skeleton.

[It's Skulduggery's honesty which decides him. Kratos adds:]

Human angel.

[Ah. That answers that, then.

If Skulduggery pretends this is an entirely normal thing to discover about someone, he can almost carry on as though nothing just hitched the thoughts in the back of his mind like a tyre bouncing over a deep rut in the road. Angel. Human angel. Not a fact, not quite yet, since there are probably deeper explanations neither of them can give voice to for now. Human angel implies the existence of angel angels, after all. Angelic levels. In the grand scheme of things, Skulduggery still doesn't know as much as he'd like.

He's still quiet for a touch too long before speaking.] Just so you're aware, I'm only giving you the benefit of the doubt because you don't like tree angels.

[The benefit of what doubt, exactly, Skulduggery doesn't say. It's not as though Kratos would understand.

By this point, they've reached the Bentley, and Skulduggery gives it an affectionate pat before unlocking it and opening the passenger door for Kratos.]

Flying tends to attract attention. This way, you can read.

[An angel dropping into the middle of Dublin at Christmas time. Just Skulduggery's luck.]

[The length of Skulduggery's silence does not bode well, but at least he keeps walking; Kratos can work with that. He follows Skulduggery in silence. Although Kratos can't understand the words when Skulduggery does speak, there's an element of dry resignation there which suggests Skulduggery is not about to do something foolish.

[As far as Kratos is concerned, that could be either outing him, attacking him, or attempting to worship him. The last is the least desirable, at this point.

[The affection Skulduggery has for his vehicle is clear, and it makes Kratos shake his head in vague amusement. Inside it's not dissimilar to a carriage, except that it sits lower and the front is comprised of a dashboard more akin to a rheaird -- except for the wheel in the place of the handlebars.]

Hmh. What's it called?

[Kratos pats the vehicle and then points to the large book of words.]

Carriage?

Car. Vehicle. Automotive. Bentley R-Type Continental, one of only 208 ever made. [A brief pause, and then, with a note of amusement:] Car.

[Skulduggery leaves the passenger door open and walks around to the driver's side. Kratos is taller than Valkyrie, so he'll probably need to put the seat a little further back. Valkyrie won't be happy about that. Skulduggery will simply call it punishment for hiding what might be very important things from him.

It only belatedly occurs to him Kratos won't know how to put the seat further back.]

Seat belt. [Once they're both in the car, Skulduggery demonstrates by putting on his own.]

[That's a lot of words, descending from the usual range of applicable words to what is clearly more descriptive, and clearly owing to pride. Kratos recognises that numbers are said, but not the complete digit. At least Skulduggery realises the ridiculousness of showing off the vehicle when Kratos can't understand him.]

Car.

[This is repeated with the same degree of amusement, and then Kratos ducks his head to take a seat inside. There isn't much foot-room, but judging by the position of Skulduggery's seat -- and a bit of logic -- Kratos surmises the chair should be able to move. Rheaird saddles could be so adjusted as well; usually there was something on the side ...

[Yes, there they are; more than one, with helpful images on them. After a bit of adjusting to account for the speed at which the seat moves back, and the awkwardness of having to move the chair while sitting in it, Kratos achieves a bit more leg-room and then obeys Skulduggery's motion to use the belt.

[This is done rather dubiously. It doesn't look particularly comfortable, and it does seem to be extremely restrictive, judging by the tension on the band. If he has to fight, it could be a problem. Still, Skulduggery doesn't seem to be expecting a fight, so Kratos trusts him by rather doubtfully buckling the belt into the clip on the other side, as Skulduggery had done.]

[Kratos, as always, is intelligent enough to work out how to adjust the seat for himself, and to put his seat belt on when asked. If he really is an angel, Skulduggery doubts the seat belt would be any extra help in a crash, but there's always the law to consider.

Not that Skulduggery considers the law very often.]

Thank you. [He sounds properly cheerful again as he turns on the engine and puts the car in gear. The Bentley is much quieter than other cars its age, not to mention many modern cars; but it's still a non-hybrid engine, and therefore still noisy. In deference to this very likely being Kratos's first time in a car, Skulduggery backs out of the space much more slowly than he's used to.]

Do angels need to sleep?

[He asks the question as it occurs to him without thinking, but they did cover 'sleep', if Kratos remembers.]

[Kratos starts as the car vibrates to life, one hand reaching down to keep the books on his lap and the other gripping the door handle. He can feel the turn of lightning mana in this as well; are all machines on this planet driven by electricity?

[That might explain the taste of the air. Steamboats, coal fires -- one of the reasons why magitechnology was so heavily favoured was because of the more obvious impact the former had on the environment. Magitechnology may be worse, but its effects are far more subtle. Even so, Kratos is beginning to doubt the wisdom of the technology here.

[Still, the rumble is not precisely unpleasant, though he prefers a rheaird; Kratos relaxes his grip after a moment.]

Sleep.

[He knows that word. Kratos folds his hands and pantomimes putting his head on them, just like Skulduggery had before the bookstore. He still doesn't quite know the context of the question, but the answer is the same.]

No.

Wonderful.

[The word's half dry sarcasm, half genuine. Skulduggery's gotten used to having time to himself while others sleep, but all the same, it's about time he had some guaranteed company.]

I'll assume you don't have to eat either. [A short, not-at-all-genuine sigh.] Very well. I'll take you back to my house and decide what to do with you from there. Careful with your reading -- you might get carsick, and that'll make us both unhappy.

[Skulduggery puts the car out of reverse and drives.]

Then again, angels probably don't get carsick.

[After this last comment, he falls silent. People usually like it to be quiet when they're reading, he's sure. The purr of the Bentley's engine is the only sound until they leave the car park, when a medley of Christmas music, other engines, and the occasional horn blast join the sounds.]

another thing; w/ fafnirs and skeletonenigma; cw for suicide talk

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