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Post by DarkNova50 on Oct 27, 2008 19:17:03 GMT
At the sound of Nika's rather well timed rebuttal, Alderin couldn't help but look up at the young Breton girl, a slight twinkle of admiration in his eyes. He couldn't explain why, but somehow he found her frankness with the boy whom she'd addressed refreshing...particularly for a Human. Then again, she was a Breton...at least an inkling of Elvish blood was in there somewhere.
But the Altmer quickly pushed those thoughts aside, surprised and confused by his sudden wave of fondness for the young girl. Rather than dwell on them, he turned his attention over to Zohara, their Redguard patron, and the comment she had just made about herself.
"Well, perhaps 'stupid' is too strong a word," he explained to her in as sensitive a tone as he could manage...which is to say a more 'matter-of-fact' connotation. "Perhaps they merely see you as being uneducated in the academia arcanus; a question of knowledge, rather than capability." The Altmer nodded with satisfaction at his reasoning, confident that he had not only managed to supply a satisfactory explanation, but avoided insulting the Redguard as well. After all, she was the so called 'leader' of the rag tag group assembled...that, and she looked like the type that might take criticism badly.
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 27, 2008 19:39:14 GMT
Vantustius had begun to speak up, but upon the sudden outbreak of rather angered remarks, his words faltered. Instead, his eyes grew slightly more fearful, slightly more withdrawn, as he flicked his gaze between the Breton woman that he had come here with, and the child that she had been chastising, that apparently felt rather forlorn... He wasn't sure what he could say or do, but there were some heated words going between them, and he felt the spark of tension growing ever brighter.
He must change the subject! Back to whatever it was that that meanie Altmer had been talking about!
"I know where you can get some alchemical supplies." Vantustius piped up quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from the bad blood that would be boiling up. "I used to have some dealings with the Mage's Guild, and technically still do, as the plants that I grew I sold to them for my food. I could use a bit of my sway there in the alchemical field to secure you a few items, if you really think it'll help." He fidgeted slightly in his chair, hoping this conversation actually struck up, rather than an argument.
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 27, 2008 23:05:55 GMT
Nika subtly quirked one eyebrow at Alderin's socially acceptably response, as if to say, 'perhaps you aren't a complete loss'. She glanced at Zohara, and choked on her drink as she struggled against the sudden urge to laugh.
Zohara gazed at the altmer, her expression completely non-plussed. Aca-what? she thought, slightly bewildered. A very straight-foward woman, she said, "Didn't get what you're saying, but no, I'm not that well-educated. But I am well-learned from experience." She shrugged. "And I like reading, I'm just not a genius."
She seemed to have recognised that Alderin was being nice to her, for there didn't seem to be any anger coming from her at all.
She looked at Vantastius, unaware that he was deliberately changing the subject. "We have supplies here- lots of ingredients, lots of equipment. You're welcome to go to who you want, but maybe you should save your favours for when you need them." It was said in a very practical manner rather than conversationally, as if merely supplying an answer (although she seemed quite happy to do so.)
Nika, for her part, was intrigued by both Vant's sensitivity to the atmosphere and dynamic of a group, and his ability to speak as 'an adult'. Perhaps he came across as a child only because of his own enforced innocence, rather than a lack of maturity in itself.
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Post by Vicorva on Nov 3, 2008 18:34:18 GMT
*bump*
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Post by webster52402 on Nov 10, 2008 23:44:38 GMT
OOC: I was going to wait for our favorite loudmouth Altmer or someone, but I'm impatient. xD
IC: Vantustius blinked as he was told that they had supplies on hand that would be used instead of his favor, and his mind blanked at continuing that strain of conversation. Instead, it offered very few venues that would allow him to change the subject away from before, and indeed, gave him little in the way of things to bring up on the subject. Though he had thought that it would have made a good subject change, now it simply seemed as though a side trick, something to simply be brushed aside.
He strained his mind to find something else to say, something to bring up, something to keep the flow going away from the more testy grounds. He strained it so much that he was surprised that smoke wasn't billowing out of his ears, the gears therein were grinding together so hard. But, in the end, he simply came up with two, very simple words to utter, before he descended into a silence that would be hard pressed to be broken. "Oh... Okay..."
Mentally, he wanted to slam his head into the table in front of him, but he didn't show it on the outside. Instead, he simply returned to his food, blankly staring off over the top of his plate as he thought on just what to say or do. It was times like this that he hated the lack of interesting things in his life. Surely the Altmer had something interesting, like his experiments or...
He perked up immediately, sucking down the food that he had been eating as though he had been starving for ages. He was still rather hungry though... But still, he turned to the Altmer, and tilted his head to one side, feigned curiosity springing into his eyes. "What do you need these things for anyway? What kind of... exp... expir... Expermin..." His voice petered off as he contemplated the hard word that he had been given, chewing it over for a moment.
"... thingies. What kind of thingies are you doing?" He honestly didn't care, as his precious plants would be harmed in the experiments... But it was something that offered an escape.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Nov 11, 2008 6:56:28 GMT
OOC: What!? I'm awake! I'm awake...
IC: "...thingies. What kind of thingies are you doing?"
At Vantastius' prying, Alderin slowly, deliberately turned towards the young Imperial, eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Thingies?" he asked, his voice grating with irritation. "What kind of thingies am I doing?" With a quick glance around the bar, the Altmer re-familiarized himself with his present company, and felt his heart sink in his chest.
He was surrounded by life's outcasts; simpletons, vagabonds, Human ice-cubes. And the fact that for even a moment, he had allowed his mind to slip into a hazy malaise, that he had allowed himself to feel comfortable around these people, only served to compound his greatest fear; that he was becoming like them.
"I suppose my life's work has been reduced to that, hasn't it?" Alderin asked rhetorically, facing directly ahead with a detached expression on his face. "What thingies am I doing. What a world." And with that, the Altmer let his back and neck go limp, and his head crashed onto the surface of the counter with a sharp thud.
As pain coursed through Alderin's brain, he found himself hashing over the pea-brain's question. He supposed the kid was probably still waiting for an answer; whether or not it had reduced him to what he was, an emotional meltdown was likely over his head.
"I've dabbled in a few different fields," Alderin began, his head remaining planted on the counter. "Dwemer engineering, Ayleid crystals, that sort of thing. But mostly, I work on creating machines that duplicate magical spells," he explained. "Personal shield devices, autonymous teleporters...every one of them independent of the user's own magical abilities."
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Post by FC4 on Nov 18, 2008 17:36:41 GMT
Glaen watched the goings on at the table on the adjacent wall to which he sat, calmly eating his cold cut sandwich as he did. But his crystal blue eyes seemed sort of, distant as he watched them; as if he was watching them, yet not watching them. Glaen bit the sandwich again, annoyed that it failed to feel like a cold sandwich in his mouth but more room temperature.
They were socializing, and he was here, on the floor. Alone with a sandwich and a frozen mead. In a way, it was relieving for him. He wouldn't have to worry about accidentally chills of the others, or the heat that would come from bodies so close together setting off his power again. But in another way, it sorely bothered him.
Back home, in his tribe, he did have few friends; but at least he had some. He didn't have to worry so much in Skyrim; Nords were resilient folk towards the cold, so most times out of the year he could always be around his friends without qualm. Every winter, though, when they gathered by fires, he'd be alone in the forests, amidst the dunes of snow and leafless trees. In the summer, when temperatures rose slightly, he felt moderately comfortable, and his friends had no problem being around him. His favorite season had been autumn; the cold air was embracing for Glaen, comfortable for the others, and he found untold beauty in the falling of the leaves.
But here, in Anvil... The winter here would be like a Skyrim summer for Glaen. And with so few fellow Nords around, there were less people with which to socialize without worry. So far, Zohara had been the only one in this city not to avoid him being close. While it was appreciated by the icy Nord, it failed to stop his inner worry of any danger he could cause.
Until he could figure out how to control his power, he would have to suffer; suffer living in this bland, colorless building, suffer never being able to hunt, to wander the forests, suffer constant worry and avoidance of direct contact with others. Just like a Skyrim winter, only longer.
Glaen raised the mead to his lips, delighted to find it was thawed and could now be drank. The sweet honeyed alcohol brought a marginal smile to the otherwise ice-carved face, and he carried on with his lunch, dwelling in his own thoughts and memories.
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