isleofavalon | but the heart of fools proclaimeth foolishness

[ It's been a long time since Nash tried to out drink his problems. Back when he was with the SFDF, he'd been a spoiled kid, desperate to prove himself to the veterans, and desperate to seem tougher than he felt. But he'd also been twenty, which, in retrospect, helped a whole lot.

This version of Nash has a few more lines around his eyes and will definitely have a headache in the morning. But his head was gonna hurt anyway— sudden appearances of people you know have been dead for years tend to do that. Might as well make it count.

He looks at Geddoe from across the table, glass half-empty. ]

Honest question. Does immortality help at all with hangovers?

[always good to get a tank or two in before hitting on the heavier subjects. At least they finally have a decent tavern for clandestine meetings]

Hm. Not the hangover, but it does give you plenty of time to work up a tolerance. Unfortunately.

[most people can't afford to get him drunk anymore]

Just drink a glass of water if you're afraid you can't keep up with me.

[ Nash slouches forward, so that when he looks at Geddoe, he's looking up. It's not a particularly dignified posture. ]

I learned to drink with Joker.

[ Nash might have the looks and occasionally the accent of a Harmonian aristocrat, but he can drink like someone who spent his twenties in and out of Caleria. He might not be able to match Geddoe drink for drink, but he can fake it until it doesn't matter anymore. ]

This is the consequence of a misspent youth. But you're paying for the next round.

Nash rents a small room on an out of the way street, but he isn't there. He's standing outside, leaning against the brick, watching the sunset paint all the evening's glass with gold, gilding the lily of everything.

He hadn't been lying when he told Chris he liked to watch the sunset. The world was transfigured in the dying light, but only for those narrow moments, so that in the morning, or in the darkness, it was hard to see that anything had really changed at all. Maybe things never really change, underneath. Nash doesn't know. A dead woman turned up in the tavern two days ago. He doesn't know anything.

He hears Chris approaching, and shuts his eyes, seeing red against his eyelids. He opens them, and there she is.

"Don't worry about interrupting," he says, shifting his shoulders lazily. "I enjoy this view, too."

"I'm sure you do." Though to be fair, she's not come in her armour this time; too much work to try and get in and out of it on a regular basis without someone skilled to help her as Louis had been. Rinea had tried once, and the effort had been appreciated, but in the end Chris had had to to most of the work herself. She's even let her hair down rather than tie it up in her usual braid.

She turns her gaze instead to the building Nash has taken up residence. If she hadn't already had directions, this street would be difficult to find, as far as it was from the main thoroughfares. Which was entirely intentional on Nash's part, she assumed. "That didn't take you long at all." She notes. Even she hasn't left the hotel yet, though part of her thinks she probably should. Money's not an issue, but...she has enjoyed the company of having Rinea around. Perhaps she'd be willing to go in on a place? A conversation for later. "But then again you've never had trouble fitting in when you have to."

There's business to attend to, but she cocks her head curiously. Nash looks...slightly out of sorts, and visibly so. Not a great deal, but for a man in his line of work, it was a significant slip. "Are you all right?" She asks, and not without concern. The main is a comrade and one who had gone to great lengths to help her, even if it hadn't been for entirely altruistic reasons on his end.

He exhales, almost a laugh, but not quite.

"Have you ever known me to be all right?" That's not an answer, he knows it's not an answer. But if he gave an answer, that would worry her more, right? And they say habitual caginess doesn't pay.

"I just have a lot of things running around in my head right now," he says, which is true. "What did you want to talk about?"

[ He knew exactly the spot: a restaurant not too far from the main hotel, with high booths that made it hard to eavesdrop and blessedly free from giant stones. It was the middle of the afternoon, before the place became thick with crowds, and sun streamed in through the windows. Open and honest.

Nash had ordered some kind of fried appetizer and already put too much salt on it. But he isn't eating. He's looking at the woman sitting across from him. ]

Okay, I guess I owe you a conversation. [ And more than that. ] And an explanation, probably, but I haven't got one of those.

Chris sees the non-answer for what it is, and she's tempted to try and push past it, but decides to table it for the moment. Perhaps she can circle back around once they've attended to the business that brought her to him in the first place.

"As you wish." She bows her head in acknowledgment, before her expression turns grim. "Yuber has become too great a menace to leave alone to his own devices. I'm in the midst of arranging an audience with King Arthur to ask his leave to form a group with Yuber's apprehension in mind. I'd like you to be part of that group." Nash was familiar with Yuber, had fought him and had a particular set of skills that would aid greatly in the finding of the demon, who had vacated the inn, as far as Chris could tell.

"Oh." He blinks. He'd forgotten about the Yuber problem. The Yuber problem being Yuber.

"Yeah. Of course. He's a huge danger to a place like this. Though I don't know if I can predict what he'll do." If he managed to stay a step ahead during the Fire Bringer War, it was because he had good contacts and a familiarity with human nature. But Yuber wasn't human. "Besides kill something, probably."

He winces, at the thought, and at another thought lurking beneath it. His hair has turned all golden in the last light of the sun, and he hesitates, before asking.

"What do you know about the Howling Voice Guild?"

"He's chaos incarnate. I don't expect anyone could reliably predict his actions." Chris replies. "However, we know his moods and his nature. It might be possible to trap him." And Nash would be indispensable for such an endeavour. She nods. "Good. Thank you, Nash. I knew I could count on you."

Her head cocks curiously to one side, though at his next question. "Some." She answers, tightly. "Harmonian spies and assassins who report to the Bishopric. They wield firearms, if the reports I've ready are any indication." She looks upwards. "And that they came for my father, which is why he faked his death and became Jimba. Why are you asking me this, Nash?" There's a tension in her voice; the Howling Voice are the instruments that tore her family apart, even though Chris knows a sundering would have come sooner or later. But to be asked about them here and now while she's focused on Yuber...Nash isn't asking out of idle curiosity.

"They don't work for the Bishops. Necessarily." But he grimaces as soon as he's said that— no one needs a lecture on the intricacies of the Harmonian military hierarchy. The order to kill her father may well have come from a Bishop. He couldn't deny that.

"Anyway. Good. Don't try to learn anything more than that."

He knows he's ignoring the why here, but this time it's because there's something he wants to say, not something he's trying not to. All of the usual tilt drains out of his voice.

"I don't know if your father made the right choice. But it wasn't a stupid one."

Chris' gaze remains focused upwards as Nash speaks. After a moment she takes a deep, steadying breath.

"One of their agents is here." She says finally, tonelessly. It's not a question, just a statement of fact. "And you know who it is." Of all the reasons Nash would bring them up and try to warn Chris away, it's the only answer that makes sense. Was the agent someone he'd known personally or simply someone he recognized from being a Harmonian spy?

She looks down finally, back at him, her expression neutral. "You're worried I might do something rash if I knew who it was."

"Maybe a little, yeah." He shakes his head, smaller than he usually does. "Maybe I'm trying to warn you off a mistake I made."

For a moment the silence is a wall between them both. But then, Nash adds, in the same tone of resignation.

"Elza isn't with the Guild anymore. They killed her fifteen years ago."

"Elza?" Chris looks sharply at Nash. "The woman with the scar across her face?" Well, now. The woman Chris had met just before the minotaur attack; who she'd advised to stay close. She'd seen the gun, but she hadn't made the connection at the time. She didn't realize they'd shared a world at the time. She looks down in thought, taking the other information in as well. "I see."

"You knew her, then. Fifteen years ago." She doesn't press for more information, but it seems likely. "Well. I understand your concern, but you needn't worry. My family's break up was inevitable. If anything, my father put it off longer than he should have. They were already in Vinay del Zexay when he disappeared, from what Geddoe has told me." That still doesn't mean she's exactly thrilled with the idea, but if Elza was killed by them then she was probably on the outs with the organization too. It's something. And it means she like as not had absolutely nothing to do with going after Wyatt. That does help. "I can work past it."

"...Are you all right?" She asks after a moment, and her expression softens a bit. It seems like Nash might have regrets tied up in her death, and to meet her again after all this time has brought them back into focus.

He nods once, at Chris's description of Elza. So they'd met.

"It might have been inevitable. It doesn't mean it didn't hurt. Who are we to deny fate her cruelty?" Nash wasn't the only one who could put a nice face on his feelings.

He sighs. Does Nash have regrets tied up in her death? It had nothing to do with him. Elza doesn't regret it. It was like Yun, the ritual the shamans had performed that night in Alma Kinan: something that wasn't for Nash to understand. What he does regret is everything his involvement with the Guild turned into, the night before his sister's wedding, the rangy dark in his mind, that still wants revenge.

"You keep asking me that, so my wrinkles must be showing." He smiles, but only halfway, without showing teeth. "Seeing someone I know to be dead is throwing me for a bit of a loop, I guess. Who else could the magic of this place bring back?"

Of sorts.

[She sat across from the Harmonian. He had found an acceptable location for their little chat even if she had as much of an interest in eating as her companion did with that oversalted dish. Despite the situation, her memory went back to the last meal they'd properly shared. It looks like he was still known to over-season.

That drew her gaze back to his face. Her eyes drawing over the lines age has etched into his skin. The last time they'd met, he had been younger than she had been. Now he was her elder.]

How long has it been?

For me? It's 475. [ He doesn't bother specifying the Harmonian reckoning. ]

For everyone else from our world that's turned up so far, too. At least, the ones that I know about.

[ He supposes if some fisherman from the Queendom of Falena turned up, Nash wouldn't recognize him. ]

[Fifteen years? There was no doubt in her mind about his answer but the thought had left her with too many questions she would never ask... At least not yet anyway. That though in itself posed a new problem - the mention of the others.]

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to hear that. [She was surprised that she would be drawn here. Her life ultimately had little impact with the world and she hardly cared about politics to involve herself in the wars over the years. This one was no different.

She hadn't, however, met these others yet (that she was aware of). Elza didn't think the answer to her question would be a 'yes' but she had to ask anyway. If there were others from the Guild here then he wouldn't have picked such a quaint location. She asked it anyway for clarity sake.]

Others from the Guild?

[ He makes an expansive gesture— a "who me?" kind of shrug— before reaching for the snack at the middle of the table.

She's right, of course. He wouldn't be meeting here if he thought there was a possibility of Guild eyes on them. ]

No. A mercenary from Caleria. [ Well, not from Caleria. Mercenaries go to Caleria so that they don't need to be from anywhere. ] But none of your old friends.

[ He takes a bite. It's crunchy. ]

[Caleria? That drew a stubble rise of her brow before a short puff of breath in a huff passed by her lips. She didn't miss the fact that he only made mention of one who was here. She had been vaguely curious about the others until he spoke of no Guild members being here.

Elza relaxed back against the cushion of her seat.]

What can you tell me of this place?

[the thought makes him snort; anyone trying to keep up with Joker is definitely more practiced than they look. Ah, that's right, that was before his time with the SFDF...]

Fair. I have enough.

[barely. He only takes the odd hunting or merc job to pay for booze anyway]

So. Are we going to sit here and small talk all day, or get to business? I'll tell you where I've been if you tell me the same.

Fair's fair. [ He'll pay for the next round, if it comes down to that.
But like Geddoe, he isn't exactly swimming in potch right now. Just like old times.

He sits up again, arching an eyebrow. ]

Are you offering to go first?

That depends on whether you think my tale is shorter.

[it probably is]

Besides, with Caesar gone...well. We can get by without a tactician, I'm sure.

You've been here longer than me.

[ Nash had tutors from Soldedt growing up, but the last time he passed himself off as a strategist he wound up with way more responsibility than he currently wanted. ]

There are what, three of us? [ He wasn't counting Elza, and he definitely wasn't counting Yuber. There's a dismissive wave of the hand. ]

I think we can keep ourselves from doing anything too stupid. [ He says, before a night of drinking with Geddoe. ]

You got the whole spiel when you got here, right?

[ Time is frozen, magic, familiars, existential conflict, something about knights… ]

As far as I can tell, it isn't a lie. [ But the way he puts the emphasis on as far as I can tell makes it clear he knows he limits of his observations. ] I don't know why they picked us though. That doesn't add up, but I've only been here a few weeks. I've spent most of that time learning how to work a… they call it a phone?

but the heart of fools proclaimeth foolishness

for geddoe (cw: alcohol)

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