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year 5, quarter 3
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Torensten had been the subject of a few... Issues, as of late, to say the least. Parts had been blown up, civilians had been slaughtered, all because people with the power of gods had decided to have their fight there. Yet it was still a home to Caius, seeing as he lived nearby. And for the first time in... He wasn’t sure how long, there was nothing to do. Caius didn’t have a job lined up yet, the recruits had gone off for the day and Celes had already handled paperwork. And unfortunately for the workaholic Caius, his smithing tools were in the shop for repairs. But someone had recommended he use the time to rest. Something he didn’t do often. But he ended up obliging. Or well, it was more for Vordun to be honest. Caius (In his mind) could keep going without much break, but he knew that he needed to let Vordun unwind once in awhile. Unsure of where to take him, a recruit had suggested the beach. Seeing as the Pale Coast was a wasteland with a monster problem though, he thought to try the one in Torensten, near the port. At least it was safe. It wasn’t the most extravagant beach, but to Caius, who had seen Galdin Quay maybe once in his life a long time ago, it was beautiful. There was real sand, and real water. It was the perfect compliment to the seaside and the nearby docks. And most importantly, once again, it was safe.
Of course there was the issue of Vordun being in Torensten. With those dragon attacks a year ago, residents were understandably antsy about the idea of a drake showing up in town. So Caius had set up a plan. A costume that made Vordun look like an oversized chocobo. Sure Vordun tugged at it sometimes, but he was able to keep it on long enough for Caius to smuggle him into the Port District without trouble. Anyone who knew the truth already knew by his reputation and wouldn’t bother him out of respect for the work he and Vordun did. They knew better, and knew Vordun was harmless, and had helped save many lives. He hoped one day everyone would be like that. Once they got to the beach, the two got as far out of sight as possible before Caius took off the ridiculous disguise. Vordun seemed quite happy to be out of that thing and Caius couldn’t really blame him.
Now that they were alone and settled, Caius took out the camping pack he had bought in Sonora and was today re-purposing for this trip, bringing out a chair in front of the water with towels attached. Caius wore something a bit different today. Leaving that heavy Dragonblade jacket at home, he’d gone for a breezier set of attire. A blue t-shirt and grey sweating pants he had also picked up in Sonora. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked around in public without one of his armored jackets. He couldn’t remember the last time he showed even a bare arm in public. He felt... Normal. He also suddenly felt very naked all of a sudden. He wasn’t sure how to react to that. It was a stark reminder that he was never going to cut it in civilian life. He was where he was and always would be.
But it seemed that Caius, even in a time like this, still wasn’t capable of just relaxing and not dong anything. Tacking bait onto the hook, he armed his fishing rod as he relaxed back on the chair. Vordun curled up and settled down nearby, as Caius cast his line. The least he could do if he could do nothing else, was stock up on fish.
[attr="class","dilyrics2"]throwing dirty blows like it's blood money from a samurai, zeninage, gil toss,
[attr="class","dilyric2"]spare change
[attr="class","dibody2"]Plenty of people were like to mention Torensten as some kind of 'cultural melting pot', a place where people from all walks of life could mingle and mesh with one another in relative symbiosis. Humans and non-humans alike, everyone appeared as if they had managed to carve out their own little niche here; open-air markets and trading posts lined the dusty streets and filled the air with a mixture of aromas both pleasant and pungent. Many more could personally identify with Torensten's cozy atmosphere, and it seemed like there was always some manner of activity to participate in.
But Theodore hated Torensten's folksy, medieval ambiance. He disliked the way all the buildings looked so old-fashioned, being accustomed to the view of spectacular edifices forged from steel, glass, and concrete. The machinery here seemed perpetually trapped in the age of steam power, which only made the sleek, futuristic imagery of Theodore's artificial right arm stand out even more than it already had. Even Torensten's civilian populace projected a kind of sickening friendliness that put this wholly urbanized hoodlum on edge.
If Theodore loathed Torensten this much, then why was he here in the first place?
The answer was rather simple: for all intents and purposes, this was a business trip. Theodore would have preferred to spend his time off holed up in the back room of his garage getting stupid drunk on cheap beer, but a former resident of Torensten happened to request a commission from Theodore that explicitly called for parts salvaged exclusively from this area, and he lacked the funds to have the proper scraps simply shipped back to Sonora. Case in point, trade tax was a real bitch.
Thus, presents the current predicament: Theodore wasn't able to discover the location of any landfills or scrapyards throughout Torensten, which served as yet another mark of disappointment for the self-educated mechanic. Where did these people get rid of their trash? Did they even produce any? The underlying sterility of it all made Theodore shudder in revulsion, but negative thoughts would do nothing to assist him in finding whatever refuse that caught his attention while he combed the beaches surrounding Torensten.
He stoops low to inspect a metal object half-buried in sand, then sighs upon picking the item up for a closer look. "Perfect. I can make, like, half a wallet with this." Theodore's words come out dry and sardonic as he casually tosses the piece of scrap over his shoulder, reminded of his client back in Sonora. "This place sucks all kinds of ass. Ten varieties, at least." He cradled his right arm to check for stray sand particles, loosening some of the plates to better let the grains fall out.
A gust of wind kicks up, throwing a cloud of beach dust into Theodore's face while he merely stands there, even more irritated with Torensten than he had been already. "Yeah, screw you, too," he complains to nobody, brushing off the sand that now clung to his tattered and distressed wardrobe while the holster of Lapis Blume jiggled and bumped against the lining of his navy blue overcoat. "I should have brought my metal detector..." Or made one from scratch. Either way, Theodore was grossly unprepared to handle Torensten, and he wanted to get this done and over with as quickly as possible.
To be honest, Caius could admit he almost liked this. Relaxing, no monsters around, no fighting... Just everlasting peace and quiet. It was... Nice. It wasn't for him, oh no, but it was still nice. But from time to time he would impatiently crack open an eye, staring down at the bobbing bait with a hint of irritation in his expression, almost begging for a fish to bite and give him some action. Was he really this obsessed with the fight? With the struggle between life and death, completely unable to properly rest or leave his guard down? Completely unable to enjoy life's simple pleasures? Perhaps he had reached that point. He hadn't thought of it before. He had spent so long just... Trying to survive, that he had completely forgotten how to live. Survival, and attaining goals... That was all he had become capable of in the last few years. To the point that rest was a chore, a necessity, and recreation...
Recreation, he didn't know what to think. He at the least, knew he couldn't do it without doing something productive in the process. Was he cursed? Or was this how he was conditioned? Was he meant to stay this way, or was he only this way because he allowed it to be?
He did not know the answers to these questions.
He only knew that this rest did not feel like rest. It felt like work that he was doing a poor job in. He knew that fishing required patience, but the longer he remained here without catching any, the more time he would feel would be wasted. Then again... Vordun's batteries were being recharged, so it wasn't a total waste, right? Still... No matter how much he reasoned with that, he still felt like he could be doing... More.
Vordun perked up though, and let out a low growl toward a figure closing in on them. Caius heard the growl and soon sat up as he tried to make it out...
[attr="class","dilyrics2"]It's no fucking discussion, I'm hard as granite I hope my vocal chokes you then
[attr="class","dilyric2"]orbits the planet
[attr="class","dibody2"]They say that insanity and genius are two sides of the same coin. In Theodore's specific case, he couldn't tell which one ended where the other one began; every day was like this, flitting from project to project, lacking any semblance of organization or structure with regards to how he tackled a commission or where he'd get the appropriate material resources from. Ideas came and went like dust on the wind, always sounding good on paper, but also being that much harder to put into practice.
This revealed a sort of weakness within Theodore's curriculum: his sense of discipline needed a severe adjustment for the better. For this city boy to voluntarily make way for Torensten of all places might have proven his willingness to think outside the box, but actually committing to this plan inspired belligerent agitation within the self-learned mechanic.
As he produced a soft growl, another one is suddenly given back to Theodore, whose wandering thoughts are pulled back to reality upon taking notice of a great azure beast with folded wings and a penetrating stare, just... sitting there on the beach, totally relaxed, as if it owned the whole place. Is that a fucking dragon!?
"Fhwoah, shit!" He shouted aloud. Understandably terrified of the creature laying mere meters away, Theodore flailed on the spot and instantly took off in the opposite direction he came, then physically dove behind the nearest rock face to break free of the scaled entity's sights. Curling into himself, Theodore cast several nervous glances in its direction, only just now capturing the image of what appeared to be another person sitting rather dangerously adjacent to the enormous winged animal. "This is perfect. Just frickin' terrific, Theodore, you've gone and pissed off a damned dragon." At least, this was the conclusion he was forced to reach, considering the mechanic had never seen a dragon in his life; for all he was concerned with, they were supposed to be purely inventions of fiction.
To grab the other person's attentions without drawing the ire of their over-sized guard pet, Theodore waved his bright and shiny blue arm out in a frantic display of surrender. "Uh, hey! I'm not from around here, I was just passing through! I'm poor and looking for stuff to make other stuff with! Please don't kill me?" Not the smoothest way to beg for his life, but Theodore was never a man who concerned himself too deeply with saving face, especially since there was a goddamned dragon just squatting right out in the open.
Post by Caius Dragelion on Feb 11, 2020 11:31:47 GMT -6
The Dragonglaive
@theodore Word Count: OOC: Dialogue Color: 196fd1
Caius wasn't overly surprised at the figure's reaction to seeing Vordun, at least not anymore after the whole Aerith incident. He watched him cry out, flail about, scream, run, hide. And then as if he only just realized he was there, speak to him from behind cover. Caius let out an exasperated sigh. He wasn't sure how to handle it this time. He had tried to go the Vivi route with that rude Aerith girl, and she'd just screamed and attacked him and ran yelling to all who could hear about a dragon. And that was in the city that HADN'T been almost completely destroyed by dragons a year ago. But Caius didn't feel like telling the man to screw off either, nor was he the type to do so. But he wasn't sure what he could do without just setting him off further, if the rude beach was any indication of how things would go.
But Caius was too tired to deal with this shit. So he just said screw it and reached into his pack, holding out a second fishing rod.
"I have another rod and a backup chair. You may join us if you like, we're just fishing" Caius remarked calmly toward the hiding man. "Also he's tired, so he's probably not going to eat you. I don't think I've seen him try roast human yet so if I was to guess, you'd probably just give him indigestion anyway" He added. A joke. Though it was so dry that it might be hard to identify as a joke.
Either way, the ball was in the man's court. Caius reached over to stroke Vordun's head to indicate to the drake that he could calm down and return to his nap. Caius checked his line a moment, frowning at the lack of a bite. Not even a nibble, he noted. What a pain...
[attr="class","dilyrics2"]It's no fucking discussion, I'm hard as granite I hope my vocal chokes you then
[attr="class","dilyric2"]orbits the planet
[attr="class","dibody2"]Fishing? Do people fish with dragons just lounging on the beach here? Never mind the possibility that he'd give this fire-breathing creature indigestion, just the thought of being cooked alive for consumption made Theodore's stomach churn with anxiety. "N-No, it's fine, I'll just uh--"
The mechanic paused mid-sentence, withdrawing quickly behind the cover of his rocky shield. Did this person live here? Maybe he could point him in the right direction on where to find supplies?
Like a timid mouse, Theodore leans his head out another time. "Actually, do you know if this place has any garbage dumps?" The question alone would have probably attracted some inkling of curiosity. "Landfills, refuse pits, trash compactors?" He took a miffed glance at the glittering sands. "I can't find any good junk, and I'm seriously out of my element here."
Just speaking those words aloud made Theodore's tongue curl from the bitter disgust that rested upon it. He hated asking people for help, it made him feel incapable; it created opportunities for others to make him owe things. But, the engineer was a tourist for all intents and purposes, and he wasn't covering any meaningful ground trying to rely on pure luck. It was far more practical, and simpler, to ask the locals.
Theodore slid his face behind the rock face again, more upset with his own lack of confidence after being confronted with the other fellow's massive scaled sentinel companion. "If I could just get some directions, I'll be out of your hair for good."
Post by Caius Dragelion on Feb 26, 2020 8:58:13 GMT -6
The Dragonglaive
@theodore Word Count: OOC: Dialogue Color: 196fd1
The man remained timid despite his attempts to show that Vordun was harmless, and Caius let out a resigned sigh. Sure, there had been monster incidents here a year ago, but Vordun looked harmless enough, didn't he? One would think that time healed all wounds but... Apparently not. Caius was about ready to just give up and casually return to his fishing when the man would suddenly speak up again, causing Caius to look back to him. He was looking for... Garbage dumps? It took him a minute after his explanation for Caius to realize what he was talking about, but he quickly deduced that the man was someone who built things from junk. That was interesting to Caius, who was a bit of a builder himself. Though he typically relied on a forge or modified existing weapons. He hadn't tried building from junk in years.
The man insisted that he'd be out of his hair if Caius pointed him in the right direction. Caius shrugged his shoulders and pointed toward a section of the city. "Back alley. Should be a fair amount there" He remarked casually, as he would hold up the spare fishing rod he had pulled out in case the man had been interested. To indicate the offer remained, he would place the spare rod nearby, in full view of the man. He didn't push past that.
With that, he returned to his fishing without another word. If the man had no interest in joining him, that was fine. He had no interest in inconveniencing the man further by pushing.
[attr="class","dilyrics2"]It's no fucking discussion, I'm hard as granite I hope my vocal chokes you then
[attr="class","dilyric2"]orbits the planet
[attr="class","dibody2"]After being given a vague answer and a rather dismissive attempt to guide his attention there, Theodore couldn't stop himself from letting out a defeated sigh; he couldn't have been more specific with his choice of words? But, dude had a goddamned dragon sitting right below him -- to ask for more precise directions would have been a literal case of beggars wanting to be choosers, and the metal-armed machinist didn't want to press his odds any more than he already was.
Caught between an actual rock and a figurative hard spot, Theodore merely waved back at the fellow in acknowledgement of his so-called 'advice'. "Thanks. Appreciate it," said Theodore, matching the fisherman's brevity. That was his cue to turn face and bolt off in the direction of Torensten proper, vanishing behind the walls and out of sight as fast as he had jumped behind the boulder to hide from his animal bodyguard.
Once he had broken the line of sight and found himself in the comfort of his own solitude, however, the grease monkey curled over and took a huge gulp of air in relief. No one was going to convince him that dragons were safe to be around, regardless of how domesticated or well-behaved they looked. Being told he would give it indigestion, even in a 'joking' manner, was merely rubbing lemon juice on the proverbial open wounds.
"Great... This is terrific." Theodore mumbled sarcastically, "Now what do I do?" It was like trying to make a cook's knife from an old railroad spike; it wasn't impossible -- not without the appropriate tools and resources, at least -- but the process involved was long and tedious enough to make the average person think so.
Thankfully, Theodore wasn't the average person. Although he pursed his lips into an expression of mild contempt for the situation, Theodore nevertheless rolled his shoulders and straightened his body out with a couple of preliminary stretches, fully intent on making the most of what little he had to work with. If anything, it was a tune he knew how to sing with perfect pitch, metaphorically speaking.
If only he knew where to start looking around. "Pfft. Whatever. I have this under control." Theodore assumed out loud, knowing full well that he didn't, yet persistent on proving himself incorrect in this regard all the same. "Not like there isn't a million other back alleys here or anything." Hyperbole aside, he was prepared for a long and grueling afternoon.
Post by Caius Dragelion on Mar 9, 2020 0:42:11 GMT -6
The Dragonglaive
@theodore Word Count: OOC: Dialogue Color: 196fd1
Caius would have been more helpful if he could be. How was he supposed to know what particular back alleys had garbage piles and the like? Garbage was tossed in cans and other transportative measures, and those were then brought to the big bins in the alleys for storage and later disposal. Since the location of the bigger bins wasn't relevant to Caius, and he had maybe only passed them a handful of times while moving through Torensten, of course his response was going to be fairly vague. He gave him a direction, it was really all he could do. He regretted not being able to do more, as he always did even if he couldn't have done anymore, though it didn't show on his face. Instead, he merely shrugged as the newcomer didn't take the offer to fish with them as he toddled off in search of garbage.
Well, there was little that could be done, and no real need to cry over spilt milk. Caius capped off the casual shrug as he would move back to the chair and cast his line again, letting out a yawn as he laid his head back against the chair. He could just... Just.... Just fall asleep here. Doze off and let the ocean waves carry him into dreamland. Sure, it wasn't very practical, but Caius still felt drowsy just laying here with nothing but the sounds of Vordun's gentle breathing and the wssh of the waves before him, and the little noises that came from the bait bobbing up and down in the water. Ever so slowly, his eyes drooped closed.
Unfortunately, his respite would not last long. But what warrior's did? A commotion would interrupt his few moments of bliss, coming from the direction of where he had motioned that garbage guy off to. Vordun noticed it first, and the snorts coming from the dragon would wake Caius as well.
[attr="class","dilyrics2"]It's no fucking discussion, I'm hard as granite I hope my vocal chokes you then
[attr="class","dilyric2"]orbits the planet
[attr="class","dibody2"]"Man, I just love being a broke-ass loser with no money." Theodore sarcastically told himself while his left hand rummaged noisily through an aluminum trash receptacle, trying its best to avoid all the suspicious wet spots and whatever produced a nasty smell. He failed in this regard. "Oh for fu-- Really!?" Scathing commentary aside, this whole day could piss off.
Understandably upset, Theodore summoned his arm out from the depths of the garbage bin and, after noticing a sickly greenish film covering his fingers, winced with visible disgust. "I don't even wanna know what these people eat..." said the surly mechanic, who began to doubt his odds of success even further. He sighed, "On to the next one. I guess."
After no less than nine separate instances of the same exact disappointment, it had become a rinse-and-repeat scenario for Theodore: find some refuse, try to sift through it for anything remotely valuable or useful, get covered in something gross instead. Complaint was merely how the engineer coped, but simply grinding for materials and gil wasn't exactly the most satisfying way to go about obtaining the best parts. Those were always right beneath the public's collective noses, disguised as things one would never expect to see.
He halfway anticipated somebody to criticize him for lacking common sense, but insanity and genius are two sides of the same messed-up coin, and dumpster diving itself was the epitome of this time-tested axiom. Sooner or later, Theodore was bound and determined to uncover something truly remarkable in the backstreets of Torensten, regardless if anybody else could appreciate the hard labor he put into his craft.
Those who couldn't? Well, they aren't going to get to see him turn literal trash into treasure. Money was entirely secondary to Theodore; he did it all for the sake of leaving an impression against the skeptics and naysayers, the ones who refused to believe in his willingness to run against the grain and act on his own principles rather than bend to the currents of conformity.
At the same time, however, Theodore's haste to put the proverbial bread on the table caused him to unwittingly spill an entire can's worth of contents against himself in a discordant symphony of noise, a result that transpired after an object caught up against the alloy plates of his right arm. "Goddammit," he moaned, taking cautionary glances here and there in case somebody thought it appropriate to give him guff. "This is a steaming load of behemoth shit." At least it wasn't really one of those.
