All 04.1 - The Pie Festival

It was still the morning when Lucca heard a knocking. It wasn’t early morning; the sun filtering through the boarded windows was too bright for dawn, but he hadn’t woken up yet, so it was certainly still morning. The sound persisted, and it took him a few minutes of drowsy pondering to realize what it was. Who knocks on the door of an abandoned house? It wasn’t the front door either; the knocking was coming from the door to the room he was in. He yawned; it was weird to get missions two days in a row, and they never came looking for him, unless it was a real emergency or something. Rob had never come in the building before though; he usually just yelled from the road.
After deliberating for a few moments he reluctantly uncurled himself and sat up, leveling a scowl at the door. It wasnt until the knock came again that he bothered to get up and investigate. Grumbling under his breath, he padded over to the door, unceremoniously yanking it open and leveling a baleful glare at the interloper.
A hint of irritation coloured his otherwise flat tone, "What."
Victor stood in the doorway, his posture straight and his demeanor calm as always. He seemed to consider Lucca's gaze for a few seconds, then said, "I apologize for waking you, as I assume I did. And the simple answer to your question, I suppose, would be 'pie'." He stood politely, waiting for a response.
At this, curiosity crept accross the younger man's countenance."...What about pie? Do you have some?" His gaze scanned Victor's person, and finding no evidence of tasty pastries, he added teasingly, "Or are you asking me out on a pie date? 'Cause I mean, I'ma be up front with you, I don't feel ya like that, but I'd totally be down for some pie right now."
Victor's eyes rolled ever so slightly before he began explaining, "Apparently there's a pie festival going on in Troitsk, and it's the final day. I've been...meaning to leave my apartment," his eyes darted about slightly, "but save for yesterday's mission, I have been failing almost completely at that for nearly a week. The festival seemed like a reasonable thing to go see, but it seemed somewhat pointless to go by myself. Which leads to the problem of my lack of acquaintences," he trailed off.  
With an impish grin Lucca crowed, "So you are asking me on a pie date, go figure! And in Troitsk no less! Very nice!" he snickered, "Yeah, sure, I'll come with ya; I aint gonna say no to the pie festival. I assume you'll be buying, of course? Seeing as I'm being so kind as to take time out of my busy schedule and all." As he spoke, he turned and went to retrive his jacket from the floor.
"Yes, I am aware that the repugnancy of my presence is reduced proportionally to the amount of food I can purchase. I am somewhat interested in seeing whether you'll break before my wallet does...and exactly how many pies it will take for either to happen." There was a subtle shift in his features at the positive response from the younger man: he still didn't look outwardly happy, but he seemed less unsettled than a moment before. "Also, I am still not exactly sure why anyone is celebrating pie in the first place, but I doubt I'll get a theological answer to that."
"Five gold says it's your wallet." Pulling on his jacket, he returned to join Victor in the hallway and gestured for him to lead the way. "And that's a stupid question. Pie is the glorious byproduct of the love between tasty foods and flaky pastry: that's plenty to celebrate." He pulled some of his dreadlocks back from his face and tied them in a ponytail as they walked, continuing, "If you really want to know, it's actually supposed to be a harvest celebration; the pie competition just sorta grew and took over way back when and it stayed that way. Anyway, what the hell made you decide you wanted to go all the way to the pie festival if you don't think pie is worth celebrating in the first place?"
"I didn't say it wasn't worth celebrating; I wondered why it was being celebrated," he explained as they left the building and began walking towards the Lighting Transit station. "Pie is a perfectly respectable thing to celebrate with, at the very least; that makes sense, but to celebrate the pie itself struck me as odd. If it's the evolution of a harvest festival, though, that's a sensible enough thing. Enough time passes, no one remembers the god or spirit they were originally revering or placating or what-have-you, and then the holiday becomes a reason unto itself...and I'm sure there are many worse things to idly celebrate than baked goods." He gave a small chortle, "I wonder what being is empowered by people's prayers to pie?" His expression stiffened again as he continued, "As to why I was going, I discovered over the course of the week that I apparently have...a difficult time going places without a solid reason. The festival sounded like a decent alternative to staying indoors, provided that I would actually have conversation more engaging than 'here's your payment', and that seemed unlikely unless I knew someone." He got a somewhat wistful look, "Two of my five aquaintences are my employers and another is a suit of armour, none of which are particularly suitable to call on socially, so my experiencing human contact today rested entirely on your desire for free pie." 
At this, Lucca's expression took on a thoughtful cast, "Hmm, fair enough. I guess it's not exactly easy for old dudes to just go out a make friends or something, eh?" He shrugged, "Sucks to be you, man."
"I somehow doubt it has to do with my age..." Victor mumbled, but left it at that. He added more brightly, "Oh, but that reminds me, Mark-1 is living in the police station in Arlington now, doing odd jobs, if you're interested."
A grin cracked Lucca's face at the mention of their metallic acquaintence. "Eey! Way to go Mark! That's fun, how's he doing?" As they walked, his gaze constantly wandered their surroundings, rarely falling on his companion.
Victor replied, "He seems to be doing well. He actually said that he has been doing good, so he seems to be learning emotional concepts. Which is equal parts intriguing and vaguely horrifying, really." Much like his companion, his gaze almost never drifted towards the target of his words. Instead, he tended to look out into the distance, his thoughts weighing more heavily than anything his senses presented him. The pair continued through the streets, making their way from Lucca's abode to the station. It was early enough that the roads weren't crowded, but there were still many people starting their day. The walk wasn't far, and the weather seemed to be shaping up to be a pleasant day, though the shaded morning streets hinted at the incoming chill of fall.
"Shit, eh? I guess that's pretty cool..." he trailed off, looking momentarily unsettled before shrugging it off. "The hell were you doing with the cops anyhow? They still bugging you about the shit that crazy lady did?" As he spoke, he rummaged through his many pockets, eventually producing an apple. Giving it a vigorous rub with his shirt, he paused to inspect it closely before taking a bite.
Victor watched him do this and muttered, "How much food do you keep in your pockets...?"
Lucca eyed him for a moment, "Lots. What's it to ya?"
Leaving that point, Victor looked off and continued more clearly, "I had to go back to the police in regards to the fact that I am, or was, legally nobody...or dead, depending on how you want to view it. I need citizenship if I ever plan on doing or owning anything more than what I have currently."   
Lucca listened as the other man continued, nodding thoughtfully, "Fair enough, I guess. You officially Vicky now, I take it?" At this, Victor rolled his eyes. The druid snorted and took another bite of his apple, "Kinda lame, in my opinion. You could have had any name you could think of, and that's what you went with. Boring." 
His eyebrows raised quickly in acknowledgement of the statement, but he continued on, "They're mailing me documents now, but I'll probably have to go back, seeing as how they had no problem giving me a dead man's name, but slightly more giving me a dead man's title and property. Apparently some lawyers are still arguing over it. No matter. I have what I need, and they can do what they want with the rest."
Lucca inclined an eyebrow and glanced towards his companion at this last statement, "Oh yeah? Wasn't homeboy wicked rich? And you're just not interested? I find that hard to believe."
When Lucca finished, he replied conversationally, "Do you really? You know who he was, yes? He was rich. A landlord, meaning his money came without work. His wife was...insane, to put it kindly. The relatives he had are distant, and his friends were inherited from his forefathers. His life, from what I gathered from records, was boring, and empty, and trite, and that's before considering that everyone in that life would 'know' me, despite me knowing none of them, and that I would have to live in the buildings where I was kept prisoner for months." He made a derisive noise and dropped his gaze, "I remain tied to the name because I have yet to find anything to prove that I'm not him. Despite there being few people on the planet I'd rather be any less." 
"Alright, alright, I can dig it." Lucca held up his hands in a concilitory manner, "That's legit; congrats on having a wider scope of values than most people I spend time with. I honestly didn't know jack all about the dude other than he was a rich noble married to some crazy broad, who is now outta the picture. Lots of people would be pretty quick to jump on that shit; easy money, lazy lifestyle, whatnot. But when you put it that way, yeah, I can dig."
"Ugh," he rubbed his eyes and continued, trying to be conversational again, "So, what did your name used to be?"
Lucca paused mid-bite, his expression darkening slightly, "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Victor blinked in surprise at the hostile response. "Oh. I thought that druids took on new names. You said I wasted my chance at a better name, so I assumed you changed yours. I didn't mean to offend. Does that come later in your training, or am I misinformed?" He blinked again, and added, tone part thoughtful and part horrified, "I cannot remotely judge where any of my knowledge comes from. Riast only knows how misinformed I am."
The younger man eyed him suspiciously for a few beats before responding, his tone slightly guarded, "Ah...Some do, some don't, it's something of a personal choice. Most who change their names do it because of some event or thing that deeply affects them: spirit quests, epiphanies, that sorta thing." He shrugged, continuing more easily as they reached the station, "I've always been perfectly happy with my name, and it serves my purposes better than any of the usual druid naming conventions do, so I decided to stick with it." He snorted derisively. "Things like 'Running Moose' or 'Thunder Falcon' are best left to the guys who hermit it up out in the bush anyway; kinda hard to be taken seriously in the city with a handle like that, you know? Especially once you leave the Northlands."
"Well, if most druids have names like 'Thunder Falcon', I can guess why I thought they changed their names," he added as they entered the building. "The thought of a parent naming their child 'Burning Locust' seems bizzare." Eyes rolled, he continued facisiously, "But, Victor's middle name is 'Hyacinth', and you tried to name me 'Jimmy' and 'Fido', so maybe it's my taste in names that's off." He paid for two tickets to Troitsk: an already-crowded trip, despite the hour. They weren't the only ones headed to the festival. As they made their way to the platform, he added, "A congratulations to your parents, the only ones seemingly capable of giving someone a decent name."
Lucca pressed his lips into a thin line at this, and muttered, "Yeah. Someone did good there." He fell to brooding silence for a moment before suddenly remarking, perhaps a bit sullenly. "I maintain that Jimmy was and is a perfectly fitting name for you." He gingerly squeezed his way onto the platform, doing his best to make the least contact possible with the other travellers, "You could have been Mr. James, middle name not a bullshit flower, whatever last name you wanted; with the added bonus of not having to deal with the cops nearly so much. But nooo, you'd rather make fun of my taste in names, and be forever tied to that whack-ass lady and her house. But whatever, man, you're officially Vicky Flowerchild now, which is of course, much more dignified."
"...Would that I could give myself that freedom," he replied quietly, his gaze distant. As the porter called for the last riders, the corner of Victor's mouth twisted upwards and he added wryly, "I really should have gone with Jimmy. I've sworn fealty to a random druid boy I met in a basement. My dignity is so long dead, it's a bit late to mourn it now." The porter activated the spell, and with a slight flash and a taste of ozone, the travellers were in Troitsk.
----
The pair wandered about the fesitival for several hours, looking at the booths selling crafts, wares, and of course, more pie than even Lucca could hope to eat. That did not stop him from trying. The weather was bright and the air was clear, far away from the close confines of the Asonian city. It was a lively affair, but the town was so open, the only crowds happened near the stalls selling alcohol.
As they strolled between booths,  Lucca suddenly asked, his tone light and nonchalant, "So, I have to ask, do you still think you're a devil? Like, legit?"
The expression on Victor's face missed a beat, then became thoughtful. After a pause he offered, somewhat quietly with a downturned gaze, "I am burdened with a belief lacking evidence. I lack any reason to maintain the belief, yet I find I can't abandon it without reason either." He pressed his middle finger between his eyes and muttered, "Because 'yes' would be too simple."
"Huh. Thas cool, I guess." The druid took on a thoughtful look as well, "So like, assuming that you might be a devil, what does that mean? I mean, you look like a regular geezer to me; you 'aint got no horns or nothin'. You got some devil-magic you're not sharing? Or anything at all? 'Cause no offence, I don't get why that broad went through the trouble of summoning a devil just to have some boring old guy to tie up in a room, you know?"
"Well, the simplest explanation, once the initial premise of summoning is accepted, is that she wasn't trying to summon a devil per-say," Victor explaned, "Rather, she was trying to summon her dead husband, which is, strictly speaking, impossible. Souls leave a dead body, and are reborn into new life elsewhere; you can't bring back the dead, because what made them no longer exists. Maybe she was trying to bring Victor back from the dead, maybe she was trying to make a deal with Hell to get him. She was very disturbed." He got a vacant look in his eyes. "She could never seem to fully decide who I was. Sometimes I was her husband, and she would talk as though...things were normal, like we were a couple and just happened to be sitting in a basement. Sometimes I was a devil, and she would..." he trailed off. He blinked and swallowed hard, "Sacrifice the girls she kidnapped. Sacrificed for her, for me, for Hell, for any reason she could think of. ...And other times I was nothing. An animal, an object, an annoyance." He looked off into the distance, "Maybe I am Victor, who never died and lost his memory trying to forget what he'd seen. Maybe I was Victor, dead and brought back through some magic. Maybe I'm a devil, similar enough to Victor that the summoning magic found me best suited to play the role, and it made up the rest. Maybe I'm someone else altogether." His gaze returned back as he added fasiciously, "I'm going to find out eventually that I'm a polymorphed dog or something. It would explain my desperate loyalty issues."
"Thats some heavy shit, man...jeeze" he shook his head slightly and fell back to thoughtful silence before continuing, "I guess you've just decided to roll with the explanation you liked best then, which is devil; thats cool. But like, again, what does it mean? And you said that you're contracted to me or some shit, cause I...took that lady down; whats that all about? I mean, do I have to do something? Do you?"
He shrugged slightly, "If we work under the assumption that I have been summoned, then there must be a contract. That's how summoning works; there is a price paid by the summoner and a duty due from the summon, and the summon remains until either the payment is no longer enough or the duty is complete. Seeing as I didn't unsummon, there must still be a contract in place...provided that I am in fact a summon. For the contract to remain, there must be two parties, and the simplest theory is that you inherited the summoner's half of the contract when you killed her. As to what the contract might entail, I cannot even speculate. I know nothing of the contract's nature, what I am meant to do or what price she paid. Until I learn something more, I will continue to work under the assumption of general subservience." Victor looked over to Lucca and added, "I realize you are unsettled about the concept of being a master, so I am trying to be...minimalist about it. As for you personally, I don't imagine you have to do anything. The price of the contract was likely paid by her already, and you need only reap the benefits. I suppose there might be an unpaid balance, but again, I cannot reasonably speculate what it could be."
The druid pursed his lips, clearly dissatisfied with the answer he had recieved, muttering half to himself, "This shit's weird man...I dunno..." he shook his head once more, "Whatever, I guess I'll just roll with it for now. Too many maybes and assumptions up in here right now..." He trailed off pensively, and added after a moment, "I'm sorry though, dude." He darted a glance at Victor before turning his gaze pointedly elsewhere.
Victor made a vague 'hmm' noise, but made no further response. 
----
"I still think cherry is better, blueberry is too sweet. And I don't care what you say, I don't like pumpkin."
"That's because you're a dumbass, old man," Lucca replied around a mouthful of pie. "Pumpkin is easily one of the best pies out there, hands down." He paused to swallow. "Not only is it tasty as fuck, but it's ridiculously nutritious, and gloriously filling. It's everything you could want from a food, really." His fork darted another bit of pie into his mouth, and he chewed thoughtfully, "Mmmh, I suppose I could almost concede to you about the cherry; but only if you jam some peaches in there too. THEN you've got yourself a good pie."
Victor thought for a minute, took a bite of pie, and said, nodding, "I think we have an agreement."
"Well, at least you're not entirely hopeless." He took a sip of his drink, "I still think you should man up and give the lentil pot-pie a chance though. You have no idea what you're missing."
Victor rolled his eyes, "Because unlike some present parties, there is a physical limit to how much I can eat at once. If you insist that it's worth it, I can buy one and eat it tomorrow."
"I do insist! Anyway, your problem is that you don't try hard enough; you'll spend, like, four hours eating a little sandwich, then declare yourself full. Any normal person would starve to death eating the way you do."
"I like to consider the taste. I imagine it would be difficult to capture the nuances of flavour considering how fast the food travels from your plate to your stomach."
"Shut up and eat your pie, old man."
----
"So, what made you decide to become a druid?" Victor asked conversationally. He added quickly, gesturing defensively, "I don't mean to pry or anything, if you don't want to talk about it. I just find..." he stirred his hand around, thinking for a word, "worship, interesting. Why people worship certain things over others."
The younger man turned a sharply scrutinizing gaze on him, silently regarding him for an uncomfortably long time before replying, seeming to choose his words carefully. Victor waited patiently, unfazed by the pause. Finally, Lucca said, "I didn't. It was always a forgone conclusion; I was made to be a druid. For whatever reason, Nature decided to give me the skills to do an important job. To have followed any other path would have been sheer idiocy."
Victor considered this and nodded thoughtfully. "Do you know what this job is, if you don't mind my asking?" He took up a defensive posture again, "I'm not denying you have one. I believe I have a purpose, but I lament my lack of knowledge surrounding it daily."
Lucca replied with an almost patronizing inflection, "Of course I do. It'd be kind of retarded if I didn't." He didn't offer up anything further by way of explanation, instead continuing to study the other man closely, trying to decide if he needed to steel himself for some sort of attack.
The other man just continued regarding him patiently, expression even. When Lucca didn't continue, he made a small rotating gesture with his hand, his eyes making a 'well, then?' look. After another few seconds he rolled his eyes and said, "Alright, the wording was my fault; can you tell me what this job is? ...or how you know of it?"
After a few more moments of silently staring the other man down, Lucca slowly began. "Most druids get so caught up in their own fascination with nature that they leave society to go dick around in the bush, and basically never come back. And I guess that's cool enough, they're doing what floats their boat, and they learn a fuckton about ferns or some shit, and share it with the Order and everyone nods appreciatively and goes back to staring at mushrooms and squirrels and whatnot."  He paused for a moment, gauging Victor's reception before continuing, "Thing is, that's great and all, but it's self serving, for one, and in my opinion, misses the point for two. It's great and all to go out and kumbaya it up in the bush and whatever...but the thing is, we humans, and elves and orcs and shit, we're a part of nature too, as much as we like to ignore it and build our cities and try to separate ourselves from it. And see, that just ain't gonna work, because we're all interconnected, us people, the animals, plants, all of it, and we need each other, you get what I mean, yeah?" He seemed to have hit his stride, and his words flowed more freely now. "So then there's us druids, and we get all of that, we see the way things are connected, and the way people kinda, fuck it up for themselves, and for the rest of nature, and that's pretty bogus. And then on top of that, we are in tight with nature on a whole other level...what with being druids and all. So we're kinda the guys who could do something about that, work out the issues and all...if it wasnt for the whole running off and hiding in the bush deal. And see, that's where I'm a bit different...I ain't scared of cities and people and crap like that, and here I am getting knowledge and empowerment from nature; I'm not about to go waste that fucking around in the wilds, you get what I'm about?" As he finished, he leveled an almost challenging expression at the other man.
The older man just listened throughout this speech, keeping his expression even. When Lucca finished he remained silent, considering the words carefully. He sat quietly for some time, before finally offering, "Your views are...commendable. That mortals and their environment are linked; so few mortals appreciate that. Mortals, being the word for the sentient species of this plane, humans, elves, orcs and the rest: they're all governed by law. Plants and animals, weather, magic. Everything here is law. The laws of civilization, nature, magic, space, time; so many people pick one, and think it's immutable. You say so many druids think 'nature' is superior; wizards swear by 'magic', most people follow 'civilization', and never consider it further. All mortal things, all controlled by laws, all of which are equal. You stress nature, but that's understandable, it's your source of power. But still you repect the laws of civilization, and as you say, that must be assuredly rare among druids. It still begs the question of what your job is, if you don't mind me pressing further. Is it a personal endeavour of balancing the knowledge of the different laws within you? Or, more of a matter of teaching others to respect the relationship between the laws of civilization and nature?"
Lucca relaxed visably as Victor began to speak, nodding slightly as he expanded on the idea in a rather more eloquent manner. He considered the older man's question momentarily, "I guess it could technically be a bit of both? But the thing is, to just balance my own knowledge is still a pretty selfish pursuit; it doesn't really help anyone or anything else. So yeah, I'll certainly keep learning and doing that, but that's not my job; the second bit is: teaching others to respect that relationship, and trying to nudge them towards living in a more harmonious way. When things get too out of balance, nobody benefits in the long run...and with the direction we've been going, especially in the last century, that's a real risk. And it's of particular concern to someone like me because it's nature that will take the hit. But if people can learn to balance civilization and nature BEFORE things get out of whack...it heads a lot of problems off at the source, before anyone has to suffer." He looked a bit wary as he finished speaking, still watching Victor closely.
"Hmm," Victor looked thoughtful. "I'd never particularly considered personal enlightenment as a selfish pursuit, but I suppose you have a point. If there is no other goal besides self-actualization, no further purpose, then it is, by definition, a selfish pursuit. However, I'd argue that personal mastery is an important concurrent, if not first step, towards any outward goal. The first step of doing anything is knowing what you're doing, and why you're doing it. How you're going to do something is always debatable; the how will always change as you go along and learn more, accomplish more, face more obstacles. But what you want to accomplish, and why you're doing it: you need to know those, more than anything, or you'll become distracted, or used by someone who knows their goals better. You need to have personal mastery in order to follow through with any important goal, particularly one that involves others who would resist or deter you. Know yourself, so you can make yourself better. Know your limits, so you can break them. Know your worst, so that you won't be held back if you have to be your worst to fulfill your goals." He paused for a second, then made a 'tch' noise and made a wry face, "That...sounded rather dark, I suppose. I stand by the philosophy though. It's part of why I'm so...listless. I have no goal, and know so little of myself, how am I to do anything but what others tell me to do? But I digress: you have admirable goals! I suppose I don't see them as perhaps as dire as you might, but unlike you, I'm not terribly tied to either side. Civilization may exert itself to nature's detriment, but I believe you'd find that eventually civilization would then collapse and yield to the force of nature. It's the point of laws: everything will balance, eventually. But if you care about preventing the loss and suffering that both nature and civilization would feel in that case, then your goal is to keep the two on reserved terms, such that neither has to concede to the other, and that's a noble goal. A good goal. Why though, tell me why that's your goal." He began to get a fervour in his eyes as he continued, "Why do you want it, personally? What makes this your task, and not someone else's problem? What will make you keep pursuing it, when others try to make you change your path, or challenge your views?"
Lucca's eyes took on a glitter of excitement as he listened to Victor speak. When he responded, his words came in a rush, "Because if I succeed, even to a small degree, suffering is prevented for both parties, and that's plenty enough to be satisfied with. However, if I really go hard at it and manage to change things on a deeper, higher level, the potential exists to push the existing relationship all the way in the opposite direction. Rather than the begrudging co-existence we have right now, there's the tantalizing possiblity of a world where not only do we reach a harmonious existence, but push on towards a truly mutually beneficial symbiosis, where nature AND civilization both can reach new heights through their shared harmony. And I KNOW it's a bit of a wild dream, but hey, that's what makes life fun, eh? And it's actually not so far fetched as it might seem at first...I've seen pale shadows of it already, in a few Northlands settlements. I think it can be done, even if I don't know exactly how. And I think it's more than worth the effort to try; we as people only do a disservice to ourselves and the world at large if we don't strive to better existence while we're here." He tipped his chin up as he continued, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth, "As far as why it's my task, it's a matter of being equal parts the best guy for the job, and the one who gives the most damns about it. I not only have the same skills as any druid, but I grew up in Tsimshian, and while it certainly can't step to the southern cities in a lot of ways, at the end of the day, it still is a city, with all of the same problems, and the same rhythms, and benefits even if the scale and degree are different; so I get cities, and I get people, and not only CAN I deal with them, but I'm just as content to do so as I am to deal with a badger or something like that. And then there's the fact that nature saw fit to bless me with the ability to be whoever I want, whenever I want, and that comes in mighty handy when working with people...whereas badgers just arent so impressed by it."
"Excellent, excellent," Victor said smiling, his eyes just as excited as the young man's. "Wild dreams make some of the best goals; they just require more drive to achieve them! Always know yourself, know your goal, know your reasons. That's the foundation. What follows is just a matter of deciding the best course of action and following it, and that's a simple business if you've done the former. Self-mastery is particularly vital for your goal because to change people, and you will have to change people, you must know yourself better. Everyone is a master, a servant, or a child; someone with their own goal, someone who accomplishes another's goals, or one who is too naive to know either way. If you don't know your goal, or can't tell people your goal and convince them it's the better way, then how can you accomplish it? If you don't know yourself, what you want and what you're capable of, then how can you convince people that they should follow your example, and help you fulfill your goal? If you aren't working towards your goal, then you will be working towards someone else's, and someone with goals as lofty as yours shouldn't waste time being another's servant." Victor leaned back, his expression softening some as he continued, "Your biggest handicap now, that I can see, is that when someone questions you, you defend. You silence people, or change the topic. You become angry and hostile. You've done it several times today: anyone could see the anger and resentment in you when I ask questions. That shows fear: fear of reprisal, fear of being wrong, fear of being judged. I'm sure you know better than anyone else: a hostile animal is a scared animal. You want to harmonize nature and civilization? Excellent. You will need people to follow you. People will question you before they will follow you. You must be able to answer those people without anger and fear. And if you are to do that, you need to master yourself. I ask you rhetorically: why do you defend? Why do you respond with anger and fear when I ask about your powers, your name, your chosen life? I doubt it has to do with me; I doubt anyone would care about the opinion of an insane old man with no memories, least of all you. So what do you fear about yourself?" He folded his hands and finished, "I won't demand those answers from you. I am curious, but I have restraint. I suggest you think about it though, because when you know the answer, you can overcome it, and you will be that much closer to your goal."
Lucca gaped at the older man for a long moment, dumbfounded by his audacity. A series of emotions kaleidescoped accross his face, and for a few seconds it looked like he was about to snap. Eventually he settled to scowling indignantly at Victor. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself and fell back to stewing, jamming his hands deep into his pockets. Without warning, he suddenly pulled his hand from his pocket and lobbed a pear at Victor's head. With a reaction just as fast, Victor's hand shot up, catching the fruit without breaking his gaze or expression. Growling, Lucca said, "I don't get why the fuck you have to be such a nosey prick all the time! I mean, shit! Seriously!" he paused, adding begrudgingly, "Like, thanks for the pro-tips and all, but come on! I don't even know how an old dude can be so fucking bratty, ugh!" Despite his hostility, his tone was obviously more sullen than angry.
Victor just held his gaze, ever unflinching and detached. After a few long seconds, he said, with the hint of a grin on his mouth, "You're the one hurling fruit at me, and yet I'm the bratty one?" He spun the pear around in his hand a few times, then added, "I'm sorry, I'll cease my noseyness for the day." Looking down at the fruit and back to Lucca, he asked, "If I return this, are you going to throw it at me again?"
"You should be sorry! And yes, you are! We were almost having a nice conversation...but you just...ugh!" he held out his hand, replying petulantly, "No...I need it, give it back."
He twirled it around a few more times, considering it. "Well, I suppose if you need it," he acquised with a hint of sarcasm, and tossed it lightly over. Victor's expression was inscrutable as he looked towards Lucca, and his gaze not nearly as distant as it usually was; it was obvious that he had more to say, but he kept his silence.
The younger man returned his gaze unflinchingly with a tight lipped glower, catching the pear and stowing it back in his pocket without breaking eye contact, "Thanks."
"You're welcome," he said. Standing up, Victor stretched. "I suppose it's getting late. Shall we head back to Arlington?"
With a heavy, rather exasperated sigh Lucca stood as well, "Yeah, I guess we'd better. With our luck, the boss with probably wants us to go catch some homicidal flying monkeys tomorrow morning, and I'd like to be rested for something like that."
----
The pair walked down the evening streets of Arlington, away from the transit station. It was a residential street at the dinner hour, leaving the sidewalks relatively clear. They walked in silence until they reached an intersection, where Victor stopped. "This is where we part." With a bow of his head, he said, "Thank you for your company today. I appreciate your tolerance of my...bratty personality."
"Yeah, whateves. No problem, it wasn't the worst way to spend a day. See ya around." Lucca turned and walked down the street towards his house. He only made it a few feet away before he heard Victor call out for him. He looked over his shoulder to see an apple hurtling towards his face. His attempt to dodge came a second too late, and the apple thunked soundly against the side of his head, eliciting an indignant squawk. "What the actual fuck, dude!" Rubbing his temple, he stooped to pick up the fruit, "What's the matter with you!? Ugh!" Leveling a disgusted glare at Victor, he shook his head.
Victor was clearly grinning as he called over, "If you're going to throw fruit at people, you'd best work on your reflexes!" He turned and began to walk away, but he raised his hand up in a farewell gesture. "Pleasant eve!" he added without looking back.
Category:Advent of the All