RP:An Act Unnatural
Summary: Krice and Dominic come upon Kasyr in the Cenril theater as he stands on stage, speaking to someone who doesn't seem to be present. After Kasyr makes a quick exit, Krice and Dominic end up talking some. So far, Dominic had only wandered Cenril after his arrival to Lithrydel; Krice shows him how to get to the Kelay/Sage area.
Theater Stage
Kasyr glances about the dimly lit theatre from his place on the stage, eyes flickering across the seats lined before him, all shadows and void. Somewhere in the background, the vestiges of a custodial crew are in the process of cleaning up the last remnants of the evenings show, so that they can close down the building for the night. A crew which rather deliberately pays no heed to the eccentrically dressed stranger who had paid good gold so he could parade in the midst of an empty hall, in a beaten up black trenchcoat, and a mess of bruises and bandages. Kasyr, for his part, seems altogether far too preoccupied to pay any real heed to the scrutiny leveled at him. If anything came of it, he'd figure it out along the way. A few more long moments pass, before the revenant finally finds the words he's searching for, “It's a funny thing, isn't it? I jumped in and out of wars fought by divinity, and seemed to take turns being soldier, servant or slave to the Ascendi. But, for all of my mercurial nature, Madamoiselle, I still find myself calling out to you now and then. After all these years, when my own power fails me. And you still heed my call. Does that still mean I'm doing well? What you'd tasked me with? ...J'en sais pas.” The revenant pauses, and then adds quietly, “I would think I'd done a poor job of protecting things in the last few years, in truth.”
Krice didn't have a specific reason to venture into Cenril's Theatre, but alas, there he was, entering without haste. Though Kasyr's presence upon the stage was not one to be missed, the silver-haired enigma directed his attention to the house instead, scrutinizing the rows of seats in speculative glances as if in search of someone. Halfway through the Revenant's dialogue, the warrior with the back-mounted katana halted his steps and redirected his focus upward, gilded eyes locked briefly on the speaking stranger. Krice stood a few metres to the right of the entrance, behind the last-most seats in the house, swathed in shadows not chased away by the crew's working lights. Still and naturally quiet, he took a moment to listen.
Dominic doesn’t know what he’s doing here. He’s spent the last few days wandering Cenril, actually. He’s slowly getting acquainted with it, and hoping perhaps he’ll stumble upon some purpose along the way. The theater caught his eye from the street outside and no one tried to stop him from entering, so here he is. He takes a quick note of his new surroundings -- no more than a glance at Krice, here -- and steps a few paces to the left, leans against the back wall, and folds his arms across his chest. It’s warmer here tonight than it is outside, and maybe this … performance? will be an adequate distraction from his own thoughts.
Kasyr 's on a roll now, the words and thoughts tumbling out a bit faster, “...I've never even really been much of one for temples. Even before everything that happened to me. I really only ended up gravitating towards them so often because of the causes they kept housing, whether it was one I was fighting, or joining.” Something percolates at the back of his mind, a presence, but the swordsman's too preoccupied now to try and put his finger on it, “But, you stood for a cause I believed in. Or, at the very least, the actions you engaged in, were for a worthy cause I could pursue. Even if I wasn't always worthy of pursuing it. I truly do wonder about that singular point where you appointed me your champion, when you bade me be your sword.” The Kensai's voice dips for a moment, “I...don't always feel I've been worthy. I have gambled, recklessly and ruthlessly with the lives of others. For the greater good, I've said. Et perhaps it's true, on some point. But I have made mistakes. Terrible grievous errors. And now something vile lays creeping beneath the earth somewhere, and I am a shadow of myself.” The revenant's hand drifts partway to his pockets, one foot akwardly kicking at the stage, “...I still can't entirely place why I choose here, rather than your temple. Was it more fitting, with your love of drama...theatrics?” The revenant shakes his head, one hand drawing up at his neck to loosen the scarf about his neck, “But I fear I am going to need to call on you more than I have in a long time, and I can only hope my choices follow in suit with your wishes. Because I'm going to need your help, to stop what I started.” Those peculiar Calico ears of the Kensai twitch again, as he finishes his speech. He waits, for a few long moments, but he'd arrived here with the same certainty that touched him now. There would be -no- answer. Whereas the wars that had wreaked havoc years ago, had been at the behest of godlings made flesh, now he truly would have to take things at faith, and pray they all turned out for the best. There was no reaffirming glow felt in his chest. Only silence, and the soft creaks and ruffles that came from the custodial crew. Who at this point were more than positive their enterprising entertainer was crazier than the concept of a cockatrice petting zoo.
Krice acknowledged Dominic's arrival only to himself, registering the other male in his peripheral vision. The man on the stage held his fullest attention, his words spoken to a being that the warrior could neither see nor hear, nor even sense. Through the duration of the monologue, his attentiveness never wavered, though by the -end- of Kasyr's words, he found himself wondering of the things that had been spoken. What had Kasyr started? Was it in any way related to the strange events that had happened between Xalious and Frostmaw over the last few months? These questions remained unanswered, for from the depths of the house in the lightless aisle behind the seats, Krice called out another to the Revenant: " D'you need help with something?" His voice was calm and low, without aggression, impatience, or even curiosity; he would be neither irked nor eager if the other male declined to answer.
Kasyr cock's his head for a moment, looking more puzzled than startled at the abrupt query. The revenant finds himself glancing through the shadows, his attention flickering across the back row seats until they settle upon the pair of figures near the door, one of which who know stood more prominently than the other, “Hah. I would not know where to start. Enfin.” There's something there, a wry humour, and the Kensai's practiced habit of deflection, but Kasyr does soon amend his statement, “But I suppose the short of it is, yes. Though a few others are in need as well, et may in fact take precedence. I'm not sure where to start, however. Someone else would likely know best. I'm simply trying to sort things out et prioritize.” Kasyr squints a little in Krices direction, before making an abrupt hop forward, landing on the backing of one of the theatre steps, his forward momentum obligating him to take a few more steps before he halts, neatly balanced between two. “You seem.. there's a thing. We were introduced? Or you have one of those faces? That one seems unlikely, though.”
Dominic pushes himself off the wall and takes a further step to the side when the soliloquist leaps forward. He wasn’t bargaining for actually -interacting- with other people, but suddenly that’s exactly what is upon him if he doesn’t make for an exit now. But then again -- ah, frak it all. He wanted a distraction and here one is. Besides, the voice in his head chastises him that ‘normal’ people don’t face this same impulse to run away from social contact… and curses, but Brand is probably right. Dominic clasps his hands behind his back and tries to swallow the lump of anxiety building in his throat. It doesn’t work, but he stands his ground anyway. ‘Act natural,’ says Brand, internally. ‘Whatever that means,’ thinks Dominic in reply.
Kasyr takes a few more casual strides across the tops of those theatre seats, if only to neatly hop off and continue towards the door, his demeanour seemingly more careless now, “...I suppose I'm heading to Frostmaw for now. Take from that what you will. Au revoir.” Dominic, specifically is given a particular look, the Kensai seeming to pick up on the anxious turmoil roiling inside the man. Though he does little save offer a smirk and a salute.
Krice , parallel to Dominic's inner turmoil, was a model of calmness and composure, something equally as intriguing but not as... 'suspicious', perhaps. His answer to Kasyr's inquiry about a previous encounter was a thoughtful, " I don't recall," but then the Revenant was on his way, approaching the exit. Gilded red eyes followed Kasyr's departure and, in so doing, passed over Dominic's face more directly than before. Once the seemingly morose male was gone from the theatre, the silver-haired enigma asked the remaining man, " D'you know who that was?"
Dominic briefly makes eye contact with the man before him before his gaze trails off after the one who left. “Not in the slightest,” he confesses, shifting his weight from one leg to the other and fidgeting his hands around each other behind him. “But he knows how to make an exit, I suppose. Uh.” He shifts his weight back again. “Is there… is this normally how it happens? Never been in one of these before, just heard about them as a boy.” He unclasps his hands long enough to gesture at the whole of the theater.
Dominic said, "I'm not really sure what to make of it."
Krice glanced at the doorway only once, and only fleetingly, for Dominic's seemingly restless behaviour was more intriguing at present. What made him so uncomfortable? In response to the other male's questions, the warrior asked one of his own directly related to Dominic's concluding query: " What, the theatre?" Lifting his left shoulder, he shrugged and offered a truthful, " No idea. I don't recall having seen that guy before, but something tells me that his dialogue wasn't part of a show." After a moment spent to consider these words, Krice dipped his head in a nod to Dominic, glanced one final time around the theatre, and then turned to approach the exit.
Dominic || As Krice turned to leave, Dominic furrowed his brow, then opened his mouth and wordlessly closed it again. A beat. Then: “Hoy. Do you know where I go in these parts if I want to train in combat?“ If the other man were to turn, he’d see a mild expression of surprise on Dominic’s face. As if the thought hadn’t occurred to him before the instant he let it hang in the air.
Krice halted as a result of Dominic's question, his attention brought back. After a moment of contemplation, he turned his head to nod southwest and said, " Kelay has a couple of training spots where anyone can venture in, though the Sage Forest is a little volatile at the moment, so I'd avoid it." Returning his gaze to Dominic, the silver-haired enigma said, " You'd best look for an individual to train with for now."
Dominic coughs and clears his throat. “I wouldn’t know how to find it anyway. Haven’t been out of ...Cenril, was it…? -- Cenril. And, er, can’t read, so maps are…” he trails off, shuffles his feet in a half-pace forward and shoves his hands, fists both, into his trouser pockets. “...well, they’re a bit useless to me even if I had access to one.” He cants his head. “So, an individual? Do you recommend anyone? And, uh.” He retrieves a fist, uncurls it, and extends his hand for a shake. “Dominic, by the way. Sorry, I maybe should have started with that.” He’s learned his lesson from a previous encounter.
Krice considered Dominic's words without evident irritation, though he proved by his answer that he would be a difficult stranger to assist - without prolonged, direct contact. In response to the greeting, the warrior nodded his head, offered his name, " Krice," pronounced 'crease', and then moved to the exit. " I'll walk you to Kelay. It's a little more centralized than Cenril."
Dominic || "Well, that's certainly a solution." Dominic attempts a brief smile; it looks foreign and unpracticed on his face. He wraps his arms around himself and follows the man's lead.
Kelay Way
Krice was silent, his gait smooth as he lead Dominic along Beloy Street, through Cenril's westernmost gates, and then out into the wilderness flanking the city. It wasn't too long a walk to reach the outskirts of Kelay. Through the duration of their trek, the silver-haired enigma said nothing at all and seemed perfectly content that way, either uncomfortable nor uncertain in the silence that ensued. If Dominic said anything, that might have been different, but as he lead the stranger through to the central town, Krice did not instigate conversation.
Dominic had spent the trip lost in his own head. At least in the silence he didn’t have to put as much … -effort- into not coming across oddly. Brand was a wordless but palpably smug rumble in the back of his mind; easier to manage when he was more or less getting his way, at least. Of the schismed personalities within the man, Dominic was anything but a fighter -- but fighting was all Brand knew. Maybe Dominic could keep him quiet and invisible if he kept him appeased. In the present, Dominic’s thoughts come to a halt as Krice does. “This is… different,” is all he says, head swiveling around to take in the buildings around them.
Krice lowered his head in a pseudo-nod in acknowledgment of Dominic's words. He glanced around Kelay casually; the town was familiar to him, and thus not as much in need of his scrutinizing eyes as it was of the other man's. " It's nicer. The people are nicer, the air is cleaner." The warrior nodded south, beyond the small structures there to the patchy forest beyond. " The Drow/Elf war is over but there are still pockets of resistance. Drow show up every now and then, causing trouble, so be careful of that."
Dominic || “The Drow/Elf war…” Dominic repeats, murmuring. He’s stopped looking around, his curiosity sated for the time being. Instead, he places his scrutiny somewhere over Krice’s shoulder -- at nothing in particular, truly, just not quite managing to make direct eye contact at the moment. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a Drow. Though I’m not sure I’d remember if I had. Catal didn’t have many or any, I don’t think. Heard stories though, sometimes.” He mentions the foreign realm in an offhand manner; probably, he hasn’t yet fully comprehended how rare it is to be a Catalian in Lithrydel.
Krice appeared to put no stock in the fact that Dominic was Catalian, though whether this was because the warrior was not familiar with Catal, or because he simply didn't care, or maybe because of his ability to school his emotions, remained a mystery. Whatever the case, Krice halted just before the tavern and returned his focus to the other male. " Drow are basically dark-skinned elves; white hair, red eyes, bad tempers." After a moment's pause, the warrior gestured to the north and then southwest. " That's the tavern. If it's too rowdy for you, there's a restaurant just a few more paces to the west. Keep going straight and you'll eventually see it."
Dominic’s green eyes follow Krice’s gestures. He clicks his tongue and raises an eyebrow in response to his description of the Drow. “Well, they’ll be easy to pick out from a crowd, at least.” And to the second thing: “A restaurant? Now that you mention it, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.” He takes a couple steps in that direction, then turns back to Krice. Overall, his manner seems much more at ease than it did in Cenril, but he’s still a tad awkward. “I don’t know how to thank you. I don’t -- do you -- is there a way I can repay you?”
Krice nodded in acknowledgment of Dominic's departure for food, turning back toward the east, himself. Following the other man's bid to offer repayment for the directions, the warrior glanced past the hilt of his back-mounted katana, over his left shoulder, to lock eyes with Dominic as he dismissed the offer. " Don't worry about it," he said casually, continuing eastward.