A Quiet Walk in the Shroud - 09/24/20

[Tretesta]

It was a normal, quiet day in the southern reaches of the Black Shroud. Camp Tranquil, sitting in relative safety above the occasionally ornerous fauna of the swampy lands, was hosting the last few minutes of a visit from Moogle's Gift. Two chocobo enthusiasts, forgoing their distinctive yellow helmets, made their good byes as the one in a tank top was heading off on his way. Tretesta raised his feathered hat in farewell as he made his way to the north bridge
“If you get relieved early, swing up by Buscky's! I may get lost on my way back to base and we can pick up there!” With a laugh between Tret and the resident Chocobokeep, the former would head across the suspension bridges. Tret hooked the mask onto his belt and looked up to the cloudy sky, smiling to himself still, then patted himself down absent mindedly, nodding at the crinkle of paper in his front pocket. Easy day, now for a nice stroll back to Bentbranch where he could clock out and then go home. Not being attuned to aetherytes did have an advantage, when one is being paid hourly.

[Alkaid]

From the tree line, the man might have noticed a pair of eyes following him from within the shadows of the leaves, silently observing his every move and action. Moving from branch to branch like a silent predator scoping out prey.

[Tretesta]

Tret appeared to be unaware, or at least unperturbed, by the watching eyes. A small flock of birds flying out and towards the west caught his attention though. Pausing for only a moment to watch them, the hyur kept along the path, humming quietly to himself. He'd pause again at the bridge over the small mostly blocked creek, watching a pack of antelope grazing ahead. Eyes in the beasts, he slowed his pace now, edging towards the far side of the path to keep their interest low.

[Alkaid]

Whatever was watching him kept it's vigil, but as it crept closer the sheer amount of heat radiating from it would be apparent. It was a wonder the very leaves that obscured the being were not sizzling now, what with the continuous radiating heat burning from it.

[Tretesta]

Tret felt a wave of the emanating heat wash over him, and he would place a hand on his belt. He sighed and mused in an odd language to himself, then stepped forward across the path. The nearby antelope Decided that was close enough and bounded off to quieter woods, and Tret turned about face, looking up and scanning the upper boughs around where he felt the heat. “Please save us both the time and energy. Come down and let us talk about why you watch me.”

[Alkaid]

The figure launched itself from the tree line, coming to a stop at Tret’s side before just as quickly sliding back just out of arms length. It was Alkaid.

The girl was covered in the remnants of a pastel pink dress and what appeared to be an axe of some sort hung from her clutching hand at her right side, the weight of it causing the head to sink slightly into the ground. She studied Tret in silence through a cracked wooden mask that seemed to be peeling at the ends from the constant exposure to heat radiating from her face.

[Tretesta]

While not quite as quick on the uptake, the distance between them grew as Tret lept back at the same time Alkaid slid backwards. The axe head staying in the ground gave him some comfort, but he kept a hand firmly on his belt, sliding backwards slowly to a pouch. He'd return the silent staredown until it was far past uncomfortable, then broke the stalemate. “…That's a pretty dress you have on. What happened that tore it up?”

[Alkaid]

“Battle.”

Her face clicked, and her ears twitched in place.

“….They had many weapons.”

[Tretesta]

“Good on you for fighting while looking stylish.” The hyur slowly raised a brow, relaxing visibly across from her. “I suppose you would have attacked me already if you wanted to continue battle, neh? Something I can help you with, miss?”

[Alkaid]

“You are the cook. You have not proven yourself to be an adversary. You have not become an enemy.”

More clicks come from her face as she processes his inquiry.

“Unknown. I was gathering data.”

[Tretesta]

Staring hard at the odd woman, Tret suddenly brightens on realization. “Ahhh yes! The grindstone! Two weeks ago! That ahhhh… lalafel's friend! No no no, Not an adversary at all!” His inching hand came off his belt now, reached up to rub the back of his head “Data you say? Well, I know this area quite well. What kind of 'data' do we want?”

[Alkaid]

Several more clicks sounded off from her face, and her mask began to smoke like it were thrown atop a burning pyre.

“…People find me strange. They are afraid. Protecting the fearful is difficult.”

She lifts her left hand and points an accusatory finger.

“But you are normal. I have data on your companions. Information that details abnormality, yet your file is not among them. An out of place existence amongst the abnormal. Confirmation of theory is needed.”

She falls silent for a bit, tilting her head further to face the ground.

“…Observation was the most efficient method.”

[Tretesta]

“I've seen my fair share of strange. You've at least come to me mostly dressed, so that's points in your favor. Normal and out of place, you say?” He Tilts his head in slight confusion, then gestures at his own face, doing a light pantomime of pulling a mask off from the top. “Your ahhhh… Face. Er, Mask. It appears to have caught fire. May want to toss it over in that creek back there… You're not like… A fire nymph, are you?”

[Alkaid]

“What is a nymph?”

The mask did not catch fire, but it did sort of explode. The scattered bits of heated wood fell helplessly into the ground where each splinter audibly sizzled against the colder surface. Strangely enough, Alkaid’s face appeared to be fine. A bit blank, but there were no fires bursting from it at least.

[Tretesta]

“Well…That is…. a thing. A nymph is… how do you say… a bit like the sprites that float about, but with… personality?” Tret studied what part of the face he could, based on her looking towards the ground. “…You are a bit more warm than I'd expect someone who isnt made of fire to be. would you mind maybe kicking some dirt onto, or stomping out those little bits? hate for a fire to start up out here.”

[Alkaid]

Alkaid stepped back and lifted her axe into the air before promptly slamming it into the ground near the fallen mask fragments.

[Tretesta]

He took a step back as he axe was raised, then tret simply stared at the smashing of the mask bits. “Er, That's fine an well for the bits that you hit. I was thinking just roll a little dirt on them all to stop any embers.”

[Alkaid]

“It will be fine. What are you doing?”

[Tretesta]

“Standing over here, watching you smash the ground.”

[Alkaid]

“Why were you walking?”

[Tretesta]

“Because crawling felt like it might take a bit *too* long?”

[Alkaid]

“I see. So this is how it is to be normal. Direct conversation is not advised.”

She drops her axe and darts close, the heat emanating from her intensifying a bit from proximity. She focused her eyes on his nose and mouth, the slits of her pupils tightening a bit.

“S-so how are you feeling?”

[Tretesta]

“I don't know about 'not advised'. Maybe you're not asking the right questions?” He smiled at the more subjective inquiry, then shrugged “Feeling? Not so bad. It's a lovely day out and I'm getting the chance to meet a new face. How about yourself? Other than 'radiating an unreasonable amount of heat,' how are you, miss?”

[Alkaid]

She stared without speaking for some time yet again, more clicks sounding off from her face as her gaze seemed to lose focus.

“I have completed a mission, but I am not happy. There is only waiting now. I do not know what it is to be here. Remaining safe and protecting are contradictory. Can I fulfill the request and maintain my purpose? Which has priority? It is all so tiring. I do not like it.”

More clicks.

“….Frustrated. I am frustrated.”

[Tretesta]

“hmm… Stay safe and protect. I wouldn't say you have to do one or the other at all times. There might be moments when you have to give up some safety, but skill and planning can keep those moments few and far between.” Tret scratches at his chin in thought, keeping an eye on the interesting woman. “What you're doing now could be a good use of the waiting. Learning, studying. If you are to protect someone, something, understanding what might try to harm them can help you be ready. And be safer.”

[Alkaid]

“Not them. Me. The strange and the different will be hunted without fail.”

She backs away and points at Tret accusingly again.

“Why do you not hunt the abnormal when you are not among them? Are you hiding it? Show me.”

[Tretesta]

“There's that word again. Abnormal. What makes me normal, hm? I'm a man you saw cooking once, and decided to stalk through the woods. Are *you* hunting *me*, because you think I should be after you?”

[Alkaid]

“You do not display a desire to fight. There is no file of you either. Abnormals have a file.”

“Observation is the most efficient method of determining why you do not have one.”

[Tretesta]

“Long as that axe stays where it is, feel free to observe. But what is this “file”, and why is it important that I have one? Are you protecting those with files?”

[Alkaid]

“….Not all of them, no.”

[Tretesta]

“So back to the first question. Why do I need a file?”

[Alkaid]

“Data acquisition. Reference. Threat management and potential threat increase. Disposition and temperament. Clothing choice and potential weapon usage. Physical measurements.”

“Information is useful.”

[Tretesta]

“This is all lovely information to have in a file, sure. But I ask a third time: Why do *I* need a file? I'm normal, you said. Like thousands of others that you surely don't keep any information on.”

[Alkaid]

More clicks.

“You are abnormally normal. It is noteworthy. Worthy of study. You are safe even amongst dangerous company. A file would be useful for keeping track of what allows you to remain so.”

[Tretesta]

“Are you dangerous?”

[Alkaid]

“Yes.”

[Tretesta]

“Well then, you will have to ask yourself why I am safe with you here. Unless you plan on putting me in danger. That will certainly be bad for a file, altering information like that.” Tret hooks his thumbs in his belt, raising a brow at Alkaid. “I am a man who sells and tends to chocobos. Maybe I am useful in that regard. Maybe I keep my head down and don't ask questions. Maybe I do not confront people and tell them up front I am collecting information on them, which will make them defensive and possibly combative.”

[Alkaid]

“Are you defensive and combative?”

[Tretesta]

Tret could only grin in reply to the question. “So, what would you like to know about me so that I can continue on my way? or would you like to join me on my walk back to Bentbranch?”

[Alkaid]

Alkaid did not seem to be focusing on anything with her eyes, but over time her pale face was painted over with bright pink and red tones. She seemed to have stalled somewhat, but after yet more time she robotically and awkwardly motioned towards nothing in particular.

“You can continue on your way.”

[Tretesta]

He paused to watch her for a bit longer and see her face flush. Then, Tret turned his back on the interesting woman and got back on the path. He raised a hand in farewell, calling over his shoulder to Alkaid “Like I said, you're free to walk with me! Or come to Bentbranch later, if you have more questions! I might even have a few more of my own for you!”

[Alkaid]

Several more clicks seemed to resound from the woman's face, but once he finished his statement the woman seemed to depart with some speed, taking her radiating body heat with her.

[Tretesta]

Once he was sure the woman was out of sight, Tret stepped behind a large tree and listened. To nearby antelope and eft. To bird song. to the gentle sway of tree boughs. Once he was confident that he was not being stalked, he exhaled and panted softly, sliding down the trunk of the tree to sit. He'd wait there a moment, mind running over details, then pull out his notebook and charcoal from a pouch to begin scribbling furiously. After several minutes of writing, Tret sighed, closed up the book, and stowed it away, getting back on his feet and back to work northward.

Files were indeed useful to keep.


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