Closed You wouldn't understand(Taln)

[Mittle]

70 Fall 522

Slouching against the counter and twirling a mug in a restless hand, Mitt waited at the bar for Taln to show up. With quiet grey eyes, he watched Stu organizing things as he walked in and out from behind the bar and to the back room. After about ten chimes of silence, and a lot of fidgeting later, Stu stopped to stand in front of Mitt.

"Only Artik comes here to drink alone. What's up?" Stu piped up as he set down another mug.

"Waiting for someone?"

The young blacksmith barked out a short, mirthless laugh and he looked down idly at his hands. His shoulders were slumped and he looked tired in body and mind.

"You really have to ask?"
"It's the polite thing to do." Stu replied calmly.

Mitt shrugged and just looked more unhappy. His expression was full of different emotions, but he seemed reticent to speak.

"You must see pretty much everyone and everything going on here huh? I mean, I bet you could give a petchin' novel about each and every being that lives here." the young man asserted confidently.

"Ah there he is now." Said Stu, noting the tall redhead as he entered and stalked directly to the bar. The bar tender had clearly evaded answering his question and the tall young man gave him a long searching look.

'I got my hells yeah answer with that one.' he thought.

Mitt turned to see Taln and frowned at the whole situation. This was all it came down to now, which was ridiculous. Everything and everyone were so gods damned isolated and that social contacts came down to a very pitiful amount.

Remaining silent, Taln jerked his head to the side to tell Mitt to leave with him so he slapped down a copper and rose to follow him out the door.


WC 310

[Taln]

"I get you're from Sunberth, it's a Tenday and all but a bar is not a breakfast buffet." Taln said as he headed back outside again. They hadn't really said anything about the subjects that needed the most discussion yet, but both of them knew that things were only building up higher. "I'm really not in the mood for a so called celebration." Mitt retorted. "Yea, me neither. That's not where we're headed." Taln agreed, continuing on with large strides. Neither needed to ask or tell where they were both headed because it was always to the Foundry. "I know you like the heat and stuff from the forge but seriously why are we spending every moment here?" The tawny haired young man asked, wanting to know why it was the same damn place every time. They arrived and the tall redhead sat in his usual spot and he gestured to Mitt to sit in front of him by the anvil shaped driftwood spot. As usual. "Because when we talk, that leaves only Artik to hear us." "Why? Have you become an international super spy or somethin'?" "You telling me that you don't get that same hunch about him that I do?" "No. There's definitely something up with a supposed drunk that appears useless in a place where everyone is a magical superpower, super strong, super human, creature of flawless perfection in every way." "Exactly my damn point kid." Taln said, leaning back into the heat of the forge with a sigh. This time it was one of discontent though and it showed in his yellow eyed frown. "Feels like school again..." "It's like being a Yasi again..." The comments were simultaneous but perfectly understood in both words and shared sentiment. Yellow eyes met grey ones and they said nothing else for a few chimes, although their thoughts were mostly in accord. It was another hot sunny day on the beach and the crash of the ocean waves was the predominant sound. Neither of the men looked ready to be the first to bring up things but it had to happen at some point. For two strangers to be treated the exact same way, had to be far more than just a mere coincidence. Knowing he had to be the Endal for Mitt to be a civil human, Taln took the initiative. "I'll just flat out say it. It looks like you and I are each in the same outsider boat here in Syka. The Founders are welcoming enough but the citizens here are in a small tight clique that allows no one else in. It's like being a Yasi again. There's the group that might as well practically be officially named demi-gods. And then there's us." Mitt just looked at him with dark blue eyes and nodded. He wasn't sure if he'd word it that way out loud, but it was a near match for his own troubled thoughts. Except for one major thing. "But you're like magicky and stuff. At least you have that like them." "And you have a highly valuable trade skill that would be welcomed anywhere." WC 521

[Mittle]

"it's not quite the same in a large part here, so at least be honest about that. Your magic shit is pretty kick ass. I can't play with fire like you do or blow shit up."

Mitt insisted, knowing full well that it was an enormous difference between them. The tall young man knew he was a good blacksmith because it was a skill he put many hours of practice into, and would probably continue that for the rest of his life. He couldn't really fight or wield a sword and knew exactly squat about Syka. He was way out of his depth with just, how was it put, 'being a boring human' here.

Mitt didn't have any gnosis marks or powers or anything like that. Watching Taln boil the ocean and walk like a flaming beacon was creepy as all hells. The guy clearly wasn't human, and those eyes were a dead give away on that. He was a total freak show that at least looked like he belonged among the other magicky people. Kind of. He wasn't arrogant or high-handed. The guy lived far more modestly than he'd ever seen anyone do so and appeared to be thriving. That redhead didn't even have a tent or shoes! From what the young blacksmith had seen of the guy, he could easily have his own ego stroke of groupies but he kept himself apart from the others here. On purpose.

"You could potentially be just as much of a fiery demi-god if you wanted to be here, maybe even more than some of the other people in Syka. If you actually tried..."

"That's part of the problem Mitt." Taln looked distinctly uneasy, his eyes flaring molten as he answered.

"This place is already a blatantly dangerous Gods' playground for good and evil. Its wild magic is running rampant and those who remain here, can, will and DO get caught in the constant, unceasing magical crossfire. I'm not sure this a battle for me to fight. Anyone who's here cannot remain untouched by the vast and myriad magical overflow. It's unsettling."

"Yea I noticed that too. Not to the extent that fr--people like you do." Mitt quickly corrected himself before continuing. "But at least you're armed and protected for some of it."

"And if someone suddenly gave you a hundred thousand pounds of different types of armor and weapons, how long would it take you to learn, discover and master them? How many Namedays would you need to practice? And who would be able to fully teach you? What aspects of each and every part of them? You wouldn't understand me at all on this. You'd never get it." The redhead snapped. The kid would never understand.

"You mean to actually have a chance in hells at being protected or safe when I'm attacked on all sides? Even your eyes advertise that you're not human like me." The last sentence Mitt stated firmly, his resentment evident in his tone.



WC 498 Total WC 808

[Taln]

This whole thing was a big fat endless mess of unspoken secrets that must be kept to himself. Let's see you live and die as all possible life forms for eons, pop back in a human body with a Fire Velispar within as a leftover from a battle with Gods and Goddesses, get six gnosis marks, be shunned by your people and completely isolated for a decade and come back normal but know stuff you don't know. Gods damned stupid kid. "What does it matter to you if I'm human or not?" Taln answered quietly, despite the mounting frustration. "As it stands, I'm pretty much the only one in this place that will talk to you for free." His molten eyes alight with rising temper, the redhead thought for a chime before adding, "Of course there's your customers and then there's you paying Stu for another drink... just like Artik does..." Mitt opened his mouth and closed it again, wrestling with the new dynamic of what he'd always considered normal... in Sunberth. Taln tried and failed not to enjoy the young smith's visible struggle to receive a verbal punch without giving instant retribution. While it almost bordered on bullying, the redhead knew that it helped the kid learn a little more self control when talking with others. Not a bad life lesson all in all. Actually, he wondered if this was what it felt like to have a younger brother. He'd heard so many people outside of Wind Reach speak of siblings and family and Taln hadn't quite grasped it fully. At least not until now. Granted, he was an ugly ignorant young brother but it certainly felt like that's what it would be. He allowed himself a smirk at Mitt and goaded him purposefully, "Go ahead and answer. But before you do, you can't possibly deny that I'm right on this." "I hate you." "No you don't." "Well I'm not a drunk." "Beer for breakfast Mitt? Really? Gross." "And what do you have smartass?" "Tea." After the brief verbal spar, a long, nearly interminable silence hung heavy between them with a torrent of unspoken thoughts from each side. "You're still avoiding the subject." "Which one?" "You're doing it again." "Doing what again?" "AARGG!" Mitt answered in anger. Despite sitting slouched over in a lazy sit leaning on his knees, his fists were clenched and Mitt's temper surged to the front. By this time, Mitt was so fed up that he just barged in, mouth first and brain last. "Were you born not human? Why did you ask about getting a bunch of sudden armor and weapons? I've seen you use magic really petchin' hard so why aren't you doing that all the time? Why don't you stand up and demand your place here like the others have? And most of all what the fuck is wrong with you?!" Molten yellow eyes met dark blue eyes and Taln fired right back at him. "Why can't you just talk and act like a decent person? Why do you have to bully or be the bullied? What kind of sadistic childhood did you have to make you such an ass with every person you talk at? Have you never had a normal relationship with a woman? Why do you just work all day and drink all night? Why am I the only thing stopping you from drinking yourself stupid each night? What is wrong with you?!" "I asked you first." Mitt answered angrily. "And I'm asking last. Answer me boy." Taln said, straightening his shoulders and back to sit firmly upright. His tone brooked no argument and the tawny haired young man dropped his eyes. WC 613 Total WC 1,134

[Mittle]

"Ok I'll talk, but only if you answer my questions too." He asserted, the anger evident in his tone.

"I never agreed to that. In fact, I don't mind sitting in complete silence. It's you that gets uncomfortable with it. I actually find it peaceful and soothing."

"No. For every question of yours that I answer, you have to answer one of mine. That's only fair."

"Where does fair enter into any of this?"

"Enough with the doublespeak! You're making me crazy!" Mitt got up clumsily and began to pace in front of the seated redhead.

It was like the guy had zero curiosity about anything! Well, he wasn't human. And there were so many questions and stories Mitt wanted to ask and know but so far all he was getting was annoyed. Was there no topic or story that guy wanted to know about? Wait, he did keep asking about normal. Was that just because he was a normal human and the redhead wasn't? Had he always been a freak or was it new? And how did it happen? Ack! More questions!

He needed to get out his irritation so his pacing was clearly more of a stomping to do something, anything to let it out.

"It bothers me you're not human because I -am- human. Just a plain 'boring human.' You're not so you don't understand. You could be doing so much more with what you have!"

Aha! Something about that comment had gotten through that smug bastard's expression because Taln actually looked thoughtful.

"I was human once, a very very long time ago." Taln sounded sad and he looked out distantly at the ocean instead of at the active young man in front of him.

"I've had a few conversations about caste that were worded almost exactly like that when I was your age. But this is totally and utterly different. I must control what I have and what I know. At all times, with no exceptions. Period."

"Would you be human again if you could?" Mitt slipped in his question, finding it the perfect chink in the Priest's armor.

"Yes and no. There's merit to both, I believe. To walk as a regular human would help me to blend in better with people like you who call me a freak..." The redhead let it hang there for emphasis.

"In this form however, there is a deep solace and unbreakable strength within that I know I could never find anywhere else on Mizahar." Taln answered in his usual quietly pitched voice. "I also happen to vouch for Ivak's name far better in this form. If I can get my shit together."

Why was he so cryptic about things? Why couldn't he just give a simple yes or easy no to anything? What was with the evasion to any direction questions? He'd struck a chord with mentioning humanity. That must be the way in to get the redhead to answer his questions more.

Dammit, he missed whatever the guy was saying! Why did he talk so quiet all the time?!

"What?" Mitt asked, annoyed.

"I asked you, what do you know of the Spring of 512 AV?" Taln repeated himself in a very low pitched voice.

Mitt shrugged and automatically answered without thinking. What a stupid question.
"I was twelve then. Your God of mass destruction escaped his prison, releasing a massive Djed storm that ripped Mizahar to shreds, killing almost everything. Everybody knows this."

"BULLSHIT!" Taln raged, shoving both fiery hands onto Mitt's chest and knocked him to the ground so hard he almost bounced. "You don't know ANYTHING! You weren't there!"

"Neither were you!" retorted Mitt, wondering what the hells that freak's problem was now.


WC 619 Total WC 1,427

[Taln]

As Taln's mouth closed with an audible snap, the tall redhead stopped looming and took a few quick steps back from Mitt. If that kid only knew! He vehemently wanted to affirm his presence there, and proudly, but that boy was -not- the right audience for it. Or was he? Was that the type of person to spread Ivak's message to even further? Taln wasn't sure if Mitt was mentally stable enough to even accept it as fact without further automatic insults. If the kid matured in a decade or so, then maybe yeah. But right now? A subject like that would take more thought than an idiotic retort of 'was too.' He must really be exactly what it was like to have an annoying little brother. Well, not so little. Most definitely younger though. Mitt watched the guy visibly struggle with any possible words or argument and he felt he'd solidly won that one! 'Hah! Know it all! Can't refute that, can ya?' the tall young man thought with triumph and sat up. "Ivak is about bringing change. Like the way you 'destroy' ore and coals to make iron. They could stay in the ground for millennia useless and stagnating like brackish water that's not potable. But change, movement and use, keep this world going Mitt. You're young and I don't expect you to understand it completely." Taln offered a hand up to Mitt, lifting him to his feet. It was like helping a mountain move for Ivak's sake! 'You are without a doubt, the heaviest, clumsiest person I've ever met.' Thought Taln "That's not the same and you know it." "Actually it's very much the same." "Is not." "What are you, five? Seriously. Think of the analogy I gave you. In blacksmithing, you have to consume mass quantities of ore and coal. They produce ashes and slag and toxic air. But in doing so, you can create the foundation of furniture, housing and tools. That's the very essence of Ivak, His will be done- in everything." "You're crazier than a shithouse rat." "Yep- almost as much as you kid. But I think you might actually be living more of an Ivak's following life rather than Izurdin..." Mitt began a protest but stopped again, actually taking the time to think. "If that's the case, then prove it to me." 'Now we were getting somewhere!' Taln thought. This is progress. "How often have you lost your temper with me since we first met? How many times have you felt something passionately that later decided the most important decisions in your life?" The young blacksmith laughed loudly as he answered with a smile. "Since your first words. A hundred times a conversation! Probably almost every single day." "So no sign of patience there hm?" The tall redhead asked rhetorically. "Not exactly a living example of Izurdin are you?" Taln continued on, finally making his decision. He needed to clear Ivak's name and he might as well start at the bottom of the food chain-the kid. "With all the questions you've asked me, you've only answered three total of things about your own self. Now its' my turn to question you. Because if anything, you're as far from Izurdin's message as I can possibly ever see. And trust me, I've seen a lot in the last couple lifetimes." The tawny haired young man wasn't sure what to say with those type of comments. At first, he wanted to give a vehement denial but would it actually be true? And what was up with all those strangely worded phrases? Mitt made a decision. "Fine. I'll answer all of your questions, fully and completely, but only on the deal that you do the same for me." "One more thing though- only if you promise me that you'll keep an open mind to learning more about the -real- Ivak, and not the he said, she said crap floating around. Real, solid answers on both sides, gloves off." "I promise." Mitt agreed firmly, extending his right hand. "Then you have my word, as Ivak's will be done." Taln replied as they shook hands on their oaths. "Ok then, we have a lot of talking to do but I guarantee I'll be thirsty." Mitt said with a grin. "I'll get some straight answers, finally! Let's get some drinks from the Tenday feast." "I'm good with water a little later. For now." Taln replied. "Dick." "Dek." "But the feast hooch is free." Mitt insisted. "Which will make you drink more. I get that Artik's a blacksmith too, but how about you don't quite copy everything about him just yet, hmm? You can afford a few beers while we talk." The two tall men walked companionably side by side to the Tidepool. "You go get the beer, for yourself. I have lots of questions for you and it's high time you answered some things about yourself." Taln told Mitt and walked to the table that was in a bright sunny corner where he could sit in the brightest, hottest heat of the day. Once the tawny haired young man sat down with a pitcher of beer and his mug, Taln inundated him with a slew of questions that left him stunned. He hadn't realized that for all the stuff he had asked Taln, he hadn't said a gods damn thing about himself- at all. "Who were your parents? What where they like? What is it like to actually have parents? What was the hardest thing you ever did as a kid? Who was your biggest influence growing up?" WC 929 Total WC 2,063

[Mittle]

Mitt set down the pitcher and mug, easily pouring it as he sat down. Normally he was the one asking and having all the questions, so this was really strange to be on the receiving end of it all. He couldn't recall any real conversations where someone actually bothered to ask. The tall young man slouched back in the chair with his long legs outstretched under the table and really looked at the face in front of him. The guy was already a gods damn forge but he was sitting in the only ray of sunlight in the Tidepool! Mitt was gonna finally find out why he does that when his questions were done. He hoped it wasn't just a big fat trick to make him spill his guts. But then Taln had sworn on his killer god so that would maybe hold some weight to the promise for him.

"That's uh.. a lot of questions." he hedged, trying to think of how he should answer them. Mitt took a few gulps of his beer and set it down. He wasn't the sharing type, but he had given his word.

"I'm just trying to learn what you think is normal. So you can't tell me, that I don't understand." Taln urged, leaning his forearms lightly on the table and sitting strongly upright in a position of interest.

The young man from Sunberth nodded to the man across the table from him and took a long slow breath before he began.

"My parents were Tirlmon and Reineli Stryke. Dad was the Foreman and Head Blacksmith back home at the Sunberth Foundry. He was a great man. I looked up to him my whole life because he was the strongest, smartest, most reliable man I ever knew. He died on the ship coming over here to Syka." He swiftly finished the beer and poured another, setting down the glass on the table with a thump. The expression of raw grief crossed his features and he remained silent for several chimes. Taln didn't push, he just let the young man work through what he needed to in the time he needed to.

"My mom was First Cook at the Montworth Estate kitchens." He said proudly, lifting his chin. "She was the best cook ever, the toughest and strongest woman I ever knew. When she'd get mad, she would drag around both me and dad no matter how small she was. Mom was the best cook in Western Sunberth! I swear she could make a feast out of anything. And she made the best Maple Rum cake ever." Mitt smiled fondly at the memories, looking down at his hands.

"Dad was firm but fair. He never asked anything of me and mom that he wouldn't or couldn't do himself. He was a fine man that lived his life as a prime example of what he expected of me and the people around him. Dad really did live a life that I think Izurdin would be proud of him for." The tawny haired young man appeared pensive on this and definitely a bit uncomfortable about the last part of that subject.

He'd already bared his soul on a double grief that was still raw and all too fresh. The next topics would be even harder so his reluctance showed plainly across his face. Besides, there were too many to choose from anyway.

"How do I know you'll even keep your promise? And not do that gods damn doublespeak at me?"

"I'm a Priest of Ivak. I cannot break an oath I've made in the name of Ivak. Those three burning marks down my spine that you're so afraid of? They're His mark of ownership. Ivak owns me, body, mind and soul. You could ask for no stronger, more iron clad vow than that." Taln answered honestly with direct conviction as if he'd simply said he breathed air.

So far Mitt had answered everything with a purely open nature and Taln was finally able to get a glimpse into the heavy muscled bravado that hid behind cursing and blacksmithing. He'd been entirely too forthcoming and his abrupt reluctance to continue, showed that the answers were about to get far more interesting. About time. Taln had nothing to get of the kid's character from him just saying how great his parents were. Despite their fairly recent deaths, the tall redhead had a strong intuition that he was about to learn and understand Mitt a little better.

"What was it like to have parents? I dunno. They were parents." he parroted the question and shrugged. "Dad taught me iron clad rules to live by and if I stepped outta line, he shoved me back on the straight and narrow. But he always looked out for me, always provided, and never let me down."

Mitt finished his drink in four long swallows and refilled the glass.
"My mother was tiny but strong enough to literally shove around me and dad. She was the strangest combination of creative and nurturing but tough as nails-the good kind where ya take the time to sand the head edges."

The tawny haired young man twirled around the mug with a large hand, making wet circle patterns on the table. His grey eyes turning dark blue, he chanced a look over at Taln who hadn't appeared to move even a single muscle in the slightest. The bright ray of sunshine had moved across the room and he realized that he'd spent the last bell just talking about his parents, but the redhead didn't move in all that time. Bizarre. Although Taln was silent, the yellow eyes bored into him far more effectively than any verbal urging. So Mitt continued with his answers in a quieter, slower voice and with a lot more thought to it and far less enthusiasm.

"The hardest thing I ever did as a kid would be a solid tie between dung farmer, execution cleaner, kitchen spit boy, Sheep Runs, resurrectionist." He gave Taln the barest glimmer of a glance and looked away again. "And meat mover. All of them were disgusting, murderous or both, and some of them illegal and immoral- or both."

"I know the words dung and cleaner, but I don't know what any of those names or things are." Taln replied

"You want details?!" Mitt asked in horror. There was a line here and that was that.

"You stared at my scars for a solid half a bell and asked me for a whole week about details on each and every one of them. Are you uncomfortable yet? Sucks when people push the hard questions at you that are deeply personal, huh? Imagine if I had asked you every day and night for a seven day..." Taln replied calmly. He took out his water skin and drank from it, putting it calmly back at his side. This time he placed his hands on his lap instead of leaning forward on the table.

"Yes details. What were they? Why were they so hard? How old were you for each of them?" The tall redhead insisted in a soft voice. It wasn't rude or pushy, but their quietude made them all the more insistent. If he was going to share a hundred percent later, it was only right that Mitt share the same amount now.




WC 1,226 Total WC 2,653

[Taln]

"You promised me Mitt." he stated strongly, holding his yellow gaze firmly on the young man. "And what was with the shamed look when you said meat mover? Is that what I think it is?" Taln asked, again and again, each question more pointed than the last. This wasn't out of any malice or spite on his part. The Priest of Ivak wanted to know if this kid was worth cultivating in his God's name. Should he turn out to be less than stellar, Taln would at least clear up Ivak's name to Mitt and move on. But something inside told him that the kid could be more than he was right now. He had some fire, but something was holding him back. "Was all that tied to your biggest influence as a kid? How did you end up doing all those awful jobs anyway? Didn't you work at the Sunberth Foundry with your dad? Those things sound shady at best. Did your parents know all those things you did?" Taln hammered away with the questions relentlessly, not budging an inch on his insistence of full disclosure. WC 187 Total WC 2,250

[Mittle]

..


"Yea yea I know." Mitt grumbled begrudgingly, drinking down the mug and quickly refilling it to empty the pitcher. He took three large swallows and set it down, looking anywhere but back at the redhead.

"Fine, I'll give you my Cee Vee. At twelve, I was a dung farmer, so it's called. The sewers gotta be cleaned out every single night so they hire kids and little people to shovel it out. It's the top layer that's all liquid, the second layer is solid and the third layer is a charming mix of all the blood, vomit and body parts that's added. I think that's the puke layer because it's impossible not to add to it as you're shoveling it." Mitt took another swig of the beer, but he didn't really seem present at the moment.

"They dropped me and the others in six foot holes for the night to shovel the shit. Next in line we moved it to the buckets on a pulley. Then when you've been shoveling for ten bells, they let us outta the holes and then you get to load those containers onto the back of the horse wagon. It's always gotta be done at least minimum of five miles outside the city proper, away from the rich people's houses." Mitt paused for a few chimes, but the disgust on his face was clear enough that he was reliving the 'charming' moment.

"Then they threw buckets of water on us to clean us a little after the cart and horses were done. So after fourteen bells of shit shoveling and moving, we had to run or walk back home the next morning from which ever sewer we'd cleaned out the night before."

"Stu get another round here would ya." Mitt called out tiredly and looked over at Taln. There was absolutely no expression on the listener's face. There was neither sympathy nor disgust.

The young blacksmith nodded as he continued.
"Yea my dad knew about it and my mom found out beforehand-from the huge stench that sticks ta yer everthin' fer at least a solid seven day after. But me and dad were able ta earn enough money ta get her a whole winter outfit from it. Full length warm heavy winter coat, long sturdy boots, thick gloves and a nice warm hat." Mitt refilled his mug the moment Stu arrived and emptied it with alarming swiftness only to re pour it just as quickly.

"She was pleased as I'd ever seen her and pretty as could be in her warm and expensive new winter clothes." He looked over at the tall redhead. "Ya know I made ten times the gold 'farming' than anything I ever did at any other job in my life? Best pay I ever got." he mused with surprise at the memory.

"But all the other shit jobs were me working for Rat." Mitt said with hatred. "He had a protection racket going. So long as I did the jobs he said, that he secretly charged me for the gear, then he'd make sure dad and I got solid protection."

"Protection from what?" Taln inserted gently, passing no judgments.

"We wanted to join the Smiths Guild but our boss Seamus wasn't too thrilled with the idea of giving us more pay for less bells of work. It would've been cheaper to just kill us and hire two new smiths. So Rat hired Wat--protection for us and I'd work for him to pay it back. I didn't realize his scam until I was already too heavily in debt."

The tawny haired young man looked deeply embarrassed, his ears burning red with shame.
"I was flat out stupid to be duped like that." he said, looking down at the table as he finally admitted it to himself out loud.

"I've never told anyone that before. Not even myself." his voice barely above a whisper. Mitt gave it a firm mental shoved and moved on briskly.

"After that was executioner clean up. As long as you don't mind corpses and gore, it wasn't too bad. The second time was easier than the first because at least I knew what to expect. It was my first job with -him- so I had no idea what to do. He handed me gloves, told me not to puke and gave me a location."

He emptied the glass and refilled it with practiced ease before continuing.
"It was over at Execution Square where they did the hangings, beheadings, draw and quarter, those kinda things. I had an inkling it would probably be gory but nothing would ever beat first hand experience, ya know?"

Taln nodded, in agreement seeing that Mitt had apparently grown up very similar to a Dek, but with a whole lot less personal interaction. It was more like Dek 2.0 for Mitt's experiences.

"Ya do? Seriously?" Mitt asked, glad to finally see some kind of reaction after all that damn talking.

"I've cleaned up after more than a fair share of bodily fluids and body parts than I could count or name. Or ever even want to." Answered Taln.

The tawny haired young man looked much more relaxed now, his relief evident in his face and tone that he felt they were on more even footing. He hadn't been sure if the guy would either shove him away in rightful disgust or call him a total liar in disbelief.


WC 904 Total WC 3,557

[Taln]

The coppery head nodded, "Yep. Weather, terrain and temperature make all the difference when you're cleaning that. In the summer, the heat, the stink and flies make it suck the most. And you would think that blood would just be like water but--" "It's always sticky." they both completed the sentence in unison. "Exactly. Hot or cold, it's always sticky. Although I found that colder weather and stone floors are an advantage if given the choice." "Yea. You pour boiling water over the frozen blood and stone, and then you don't have to chip it off." Taln stopped and looked at Mitt for a long chime. "This is totally macabre. Seriously Is it wrong that we actually found common ground over how to clean up guts and blood?" Mitt shrugged and finished off his beer to signal Stu for some food. "I'm hungry and I know you always are. I don't think my talking about guts or a sudden blizzard would interrupt or even mildly slow down your appetite." "So anyway, what was your first clean up like?" WC 178 Total WC 2,428