[Outside in the northern town, he looks up at the gun shop's sign with his expression shadowed by his hair.
Should Fiora approach, Rupe, who's been trotting circles around his owner, will twitch his nose, sit upright, and turn his head in her direction. Rufus' attention, however, will remain on the sign as if his mind has been wandering for some time.]
[ has Fiora ever actually met Rupe?? Not in any of our threads, so it's happening now. In fact, she thinks it's that monkey again at first - but it is extremely obvious it's not the monkey as soon as she gets closer. ]
Oh! Who's this? You've got such a cute friend with you!
Rupe's tail swishes across the ground in slow sweeping motions. After a protracted pause, Rufus looks down just as a bubble forms and begins its slow descent.]
[ once rupe has given her hand a good sniff, she carefully sees if she can pet him on the head. It's a good distraction from her stubborn friend(?). ]
Just because they're treated doesn't mean they've stopped hurting - or that you're in the clear, for that matter. You're just the type who'd reinjure himself, I know it.
[Fiora's scent isn't unfamiliar to Rupe, who begins to lean even closer.]
More importantly, I have a question . . .
[The bubble pops above them on its way down.
In a dimly lit room, Rufus stands in front of a desk that separates him from a smiling man.
"Hey, Rufus. You were excellent last time."
Rufus' face crinkles in visible displeasure.
"What nerve. I wasn't expecting you to bring that up. Was it not a big case? You lied about the reward."
The man's smile stretches into a grin as he replies, "I didn't lie. People make mistakes. I just received a small fee for referring you."
"Don't you think the reward and fee changed?"
"Yes!" answers the man, gleefully. "That's what you didn't learn from Tristan. You have to check the contract carefully! Be careful next time, because there are bad folks out there who exploit others. Think of it as a lesson fee."
" . . . I suppose that was naive of me. Let's see if you can get away with it next time."
The scene cuts.
Rufus sits up with his prosthesis exposed for maintenance. There's a series of hums as the technician works on the sensitive device. The sensation is not unlike being cut and stabbed; however, Rufus is motionless as he focuses on a faded, torn family picture.
"Do you need some work done? I can restore the torn part," says the technician.
"Why would I want to restore the part I ripped? Please don't waste your time," answers Rufus.
"Do you still hate your father?"
" . . . If you mention him again, I will never come back to this place."
"Hah! As you wish. Do you think it's easy to find a technician who can fix your prosthetic arm?"
"Then I will get rid of my arm."
Ignoring the technician's grousing, Rufus settles his gaze on the picture again—as if desperate to store his mother's smile in his memory before it can fade away.
The scene changes again.
Rufus is nowhere in sight. Instead, one man holds another man at gunpoint as he addresses a familiar woman, who rushes out after tucking away her scaled child—"Mama?"—in a dilapidated shack.
"Hey," says the first man, "it's been a while. Shouldn't you be saying, 'Thank you,' instead of 'stop'? I let you guys meet again."
"No!" shouts the second, injured man. "You . . . used her to catch me."
"Good for you! So you came, knowing it was a trap? Look, Legis. I worked hard. Do you know how much I spent to resurrect Melanie? Of course, your son is paying the debt."
The memory shifts once more.
On a strange bridge that floats in space, Tristan is cornered by Rufus, a teenager brandishing a sword, and a handful of others. Tristan faces Rufus, who speaks up.
"Was it . . . helpful?"
"Yes. You were very helpful, Rufus."
" . . . I knew you were using me."
"And you helped me?"
"Of course." Gloved fingers squeeze around the grip of the gun as Rufus continues quietly, "I did dirty work under you . . . but I endured it." He snaps upright and snarls, "But you! You should've never used my mother! I will kill you!"]
[ she's too focused on Rufus and his dog(?) to notice the bubble before it's too late; by the time she realizes what's happening, the reel of memories is already playing for her, and she can't help but watch.
A lot of it is things she already knew, or assumed ahead of time: his bounty-hunting job is cutthroat, his remaining arm isn't real, he wants to kill his father. He loves his mother. Seeing him gaze at the photo like that makes her feel a little spike of sympathetic hurt.
The rest, though - that's new, and much more complicated. And of course, Fiora, who's been on the opposite side of this very situation, grasps what happened quickly enough. When the series of memories ends, she forgets Rupe entirely. ]
Rufus scowls deeply at the memories once they come and go. Anger flares anew within him as he recalls Tristan's ploy and more. It takes him a moment to answer.]
[ there is no good way to have a conversation about this, but there's also no way Fiora is going to carry on pretending nothing happened. She stands back up, expression one of muted remorse. ]
Sorry. I know that was all personal... Really personal.
[ she's almost certain he would not have wanted to tell her any of it, but now she knows, and there's no going back from that. ]
[He wouldn't have told her any of it, because it would have been unnecessary. This and the Realm have nothing to do with each other. But they do now, and Fiora isn't the type who would just let this go.
It's not her fault.]
I've told you before. There's nothing money can't fix.
[ no, she thinks, she's fairly certain even money can't bring someone back from the dead - at least, not where she's from. He was angry before, but it looks like it wasn't at her, which is a relief. ]
I can't believe it. [ her voice is quiet. ] Was it you who did it?
[ did she want it? was she happy? Fiora wonders a lot of things - why did she look different, and why did she have another child with her? Where did Rufus's dad fit into this equation...? ]
[ it's amazing. miraculous, even. But it only takes one look at Rufus's face - and a glimpse into those memories - to see that this isn't the outcome that he wanted. ]
But... that person was just taking advantage of you. Both of you. That's awful.
[ it's all strange and surreal, the idea that the dead could come back - maybe Fiora is an example of it, herself, but it would be closer to say she was mortally wounded. Rufus's mother on the other hand, died of illness, and came back long afterwards. ]
[Tristan could have used him for millennia—had used him for centuries. Rufus would have endured many more long years of indentured servitude for his mother's sake, but then Tristan had to go and ruin everything by mistreating her. The weasel.
He's irritated, yet there's nowhere to unleash his building rage.]
[ she had a feeling that was the case. from his demeanor, from what she already knows of him - if he'd happily reunited with her, he wouldn't be like this anymore, would he? Fiora's gaze drops again, looking at the ground, or at Rupe. ]
... That's so unfair. After everything you've done - and everything you're still doing...
[ there's not much she can say that will help him; he's not the type for words, and he's so closed off that even if he was, she doesn't think hers would reach him. Still, they're all she has. ]
That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It doesn't mean I don't feel badly for you, either. I do. I'm sorry that it happened to you at all.
[ she wonders what he used to be like. by those memories and his apparent age, it must have been an incredibly long time ago - the time before he was this bitter and vengeful. is there any of that Rufus left in him? there must be, right? ]
... But I'm glad you're fighting for her. I'm sure if she knew, she would be, too.
[ she makes a small startled noise at that sudden reveal. It's out of left field, but forgivable; she's quite sure he doesn't want to stay on this topic, and, as always, Fiora doubts that he's listening much to anything she says. ]
-- Really? I knew it... [ she'll take the deflection and run with it. There's no need to make Rufus feel worse about his mother. ] What do you know about them? Anything much? We've never spoken.
[ she takes a step closer, listening intently; another handful of bubbles are already forming behind her. ]
[ that's something they have in common. she's not looking for gossip, though - she's looking for information. the "leaders" and their teams are the key to stopping this. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Week 4: Tuesday
Should Fiora approach, Rupe, who's been trotting circles around his owner, will twitch his nose, sit upright, and turn his head in her direction. Rufus' attention, however, will remain on the sign as if his mind has been wandering for some time.]
anime...
Oh! Who's this? You've got such a cute friend with you!
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Rupe's tail swishes across the ground in slow sweeping motions. After a protracted pause, Rufus looks down just as a bubble forms and begins its slow descent.]
I don't remember.
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You forgot him? That's terrible... I'm sorry.
[ she never took him for the type of guy to have pets? it's a little cute, frankly. ]
How are you feeling today, Rufus?
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Why do you ask?
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fiora is arching a brow at Rufus. ]
Why do I ask? I wonder... Maybe it has something to do with your amputated hand? Or the stab wound next to your heart? It's a real mystery.
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Just because they're treated doesn't mean they've stopped hurting - or that you're in the clear, for that matter. You're just the type who'd reinjure himself, I know it.
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More importantly, I have a question . . .
[The bubble pops above them on its way down.
In a dimly lit room, Rufus stands in front of a desk that separates him from a smiling man.
"Hey, Rufus. You were excellent last time."
Rufus' face crinkles in visible displeasure.
"What nerve. I wasn't expecting you to bring that up. Was it not a big case? You lied about the reward."
The man's smile stretches into a grin as he replies, "I didn't lie. People make mistakes. I just received a small fee for referring you."
"Don't you think the reward and fee changed?"
"Yes!" answers the man, gleefully. "That's what you didn't learn from Tristan. You have to check the contract carefully! Be careful next time, because there are bad folks out there who exploit others. Think of it as a lesson fee."
" . . . I suppose that was naive of me. Let's see if you can get away with it next time."
The scene cuts.
Rufus sits up with his prosthesis exposed for maintenance. There's a series of hums as the technician works on the sensitive device. The sensation is not unlike being cut and stabbed; however, Rufus is motionless as he focuses on a faded, torn family picture.
"Do you need some work done? I can restore the torn part," says the technician.
"Why would I want to restore the part I ripped? Please don't waste your time," answers Rufus.
"Do you still hate your father?"
" . . . If you mention him again, I will never come back to this place."
"Hah! As you wish. Do you think it's easy to find a technician who can fix your prosthetic arm?"
"Then I will get rid of my arm."
Ignoring the technician's grousing, Rufus settles his gaze on the picture again—as if desperate to store his mother's smile in his memory before it can fade away.
The scene changes again.
Rufus is nowhere in sight. Instead, one man holds another man at gunpoint as he addresses a familiar woman, who rushes out after tucking away her scaled child—"Mama?"—in a dilapidated shack.
"Hey," says the first man, "it's been a while. Shouldn't you be saying, 'Thank you,' instead of 'stop'? I let you guys meet again."
"No!" shouts the second, injured man. "You . . . used her to catch me."
"Good for you! So you came, knowing it was a trap? Look, Legis. I worked hard. Do you know how much I spent to resurrect Melanie? Of course, your son is paying the debt."
The memory shifts once more.
On a strange bridge that floats in space, Tristan is cornered by Rufus, a teenager brandishing a sword, and a handful of others. Tristan faces Rufus, who speaks up.
"Was it . . . helpful?"
"Yes. You were very helpful, Rufus."
" . . . I knew you were using me."
"And you helped me?"
"Of course." Gloved fingers squeeze around the grip of the gun as Rufus continues quietly, "I did dirty work under you . . . but I endured it." He snaps upright and snarls, "But you! You should've never used my mother! I will kill you!"]
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A lot of it is things she already knew, or assumed ahead of time: his bounty-hunting job is cutthroat, his remaining arm isn't real, he wants to kill his father. He loves his mother. Seeing him gaze at the photo like that makes her feel a little spike of sympathetic hurt.
The rest, though - that's new, and much more complicated. And of course, Fiora, who's been on the opposite side of this very situation, grasps what happened quickly enough. When the series of memories ends, she forgets Rupe entirely. ]
Rufus... You were watching, too, right?
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Rufus scowls deeply at the memories once they come and go. Anger flares anew within him as he recalls Tristan's ploy and more. It takes him a moment to answer.]
. . . Yes.
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Sorry. I know that was all personal... Really personal.
[ she's almost certain he would not have wanted to tell her any of it, but now she knows, and there's no going back from that. ]
Your mum... she was brought back?
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It's not her fault.]
I've told you before. There's nothing money can't fix.
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I can't believe it. [ her voice is quiet. ] Was it you who did it?
[ did she want it? was she happy? Fiora wonders a lot of things - why did she look different, and why did she have another child with her? Where did Rufus's dad fit into this equation...? ]
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But... that person was just taking advantage of you. Both of you. That's awful.
[ it's all strange and surreal, the idea that the dead could come back - maybe Fiora is an example of it, herself, but it would be closer to say she was mortally wounded. Rufus's mother on the other hand, died of illness, and came back long afterwards. ]
Did you get to be with her again, after that?
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He's irritated, yet there's nowhere to unleash his building rage.]
No. I never saw her again.
i keep thinking that's an angry tsun blush icon
... That's so unfair. After everything you've done - and everything you're still doing...
[ there's not much she can say that will help him; he's not the type for words, and he's so closed off that even if he was, she doesn't think hers would reach him. Still, they're all she has. ]
I'm sorry.
(cries) it's an angry don't-ask-about-money icon.
Are you Tristan?
[What a ridiculous thing to say. She isn't, so apologies from her are unnecessary. Rufus' frown deepens.]
Hardly anything in the world is fair.
pretends it's an angry tsun blush icon
[ she wonders what he used to be like. by those memories and his apparent age, it must have been an incredibly long time ago - the time before he was this bitter and vengeful. is there any of that Rufus left in him? there must be, right? ]
... But I'm glad you're fighting for her. I'm sure if she knew, she would be, too.
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. . . You were correct. My Leader is Wolf.
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-- Really? I knew it... [ she'll take the deflection and run with it. There's no need to make Rufus feel worse about his mother. ] What do you know about them? Anything much? We've never spoken.
[ she takes a step closer, listening intently; another handful of bubbles are already forming behind her. ]
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[He didn't share that factoid for the sake of gossip, so he moves on as quickly as he introduced it.]
Did your team icon flash the other day?
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It didn't. Not that I noticed, at least. Yours?
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. . . At present, you are my sole connection to Swan. I would appreciate it if you didn't splinter and get removed.
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