The Onsen, Saturday Afternoon

[thatsmysword]

Last night was fuzzy. Very fuzzy.

Henry wasn't even sure if he'd gotten around to explaining the island to Sir Hans. Perhaps he'd tried? There'd been a lot of drinking, was the thing. He felt he could vaguely remember Hans shouting invectives at the pink birds in the park, a poor attempt at scaling the rocks, stumbling into some creature composed of alot of wine, some green thing biting Hans, more invectives, some sort of inn, and then-- waking up with a headache on top of a snoring noble?

There had been more wine in the morning, of course. And then a failed explanation of the big black box in the room. And finally, finally, H-- Sir Hans had brought up baths.

And so now that was where they were. Soaking in the hot onsen, while Sir Hans complained about the lack of attractive bath maids, drinking wine. Was this still from last night? He couldn't tell.

"No, no, I mean it," he was stressing, not for the first time, "We're in a different time and everything! Well across the ocean. You don't-- look, Hans--"

"Why would they put rocks in the bath? And trees?" Hans asked. "Ooh, are they for climbing? Peasant! You should climb the bath rocks!"

"I'm not going to-- will you sit still and listen--"

"I'm getting more wine!"

Well. At least Henry was distracted.

[[ open, if you want your bath time to be full of drunk medieval teenagers. ]]

Comments

[theotheridiot]

"See," Hans said, as he sank back into the incredible hot water with his glass flask of wine. "There is no need to keep on talking, because I don't believe you."

[thatsmysword]

"Don't you now," Henry said, as he sagged back against the side of the bath with a sigh.

[theotheridiot]

"I do not," Hans said, nodding, as he oh-so-carefully poured wine into his already-beaten mug. "It is pro-- pri-- preposterous. And do you know why I know it is pre-- possing?"

[thatsmysword]

Henry waved his glass cup or whatever it was in Capon's general direction. He could point out that he didn't know, exactly, or that he could guess, because surely he hadn't exactly taken his arrival here well, either, but it was Hans Capon and he was bound to get the answer regardless of anything he said or did right now.

[theotheridiot]

Hans made a big, slightly jerky production of leaning over to pour wine into Henry's cup. Look at him, being gracious and everything. "Because," he said, enunciating each syllable carefully, "Beeee-cause. This wine. Is terrible."

He sank back and immediately took a swig from the bottle.

"Undrinkable swill," he proclaimed. "If this were the future. The wine. Would be perfect. You see? You see."

[thatsmysword]

Henry looked at him. Longer than he really meant to, because it was getting a touch hard to judge the actual distance of looking, but still. "That," he said, "Is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

[theotheridiot]

"Why?" Hans demanded. He held up a finger as he slammed back most of the contents of his mug. "Are you telling me these future people really wasted so much time figuring out how to make boxes that show plays from very far away and yet they couldn't fix bad wine? If I had such great minds at my disposal, that would be the first thing I got fixed!"

[thatsmysword]

"Not everybody wants to be drunk all the time," Henry argued.

[theotheridiot]

"Liars!" Hans looked like he was about to spit bad wine out into the onsen, but at the last minute, he relented.

Mainly because his mug was empty and he needed to reach for the bottle again, mind.

"Introduce me to this 'not everybody'," he said, "And I shall-- I will-- rev-- reave-- I will prove that they're lying!"

[thatsmysword]

"Or perhaps we could just stay here and keep drinking," Henry pointed out sagely. "My Lord."

He yanked the bottle out of Hans's hands and topped up his cup. Entirely out of spite; it was still mostly full.

[theotheridiot]

Hans Capon pouted at him in a way he would later insist was completely manly. "Or perhaps you should find me better wine," he said. "Aren't you supposed to be working for me or something?"

[thatsmysword]

"I don't think I'm supposed to be anything for you right here," Henry said, as he grabbed Hans's mug out of his handsp. "They don't have nobles here, you know. It's all-- you lot are all-- demo-- demi-- critically el-- li-- chosen."

He filled the mug all the way to the top and held the sloshing thing back out for Hans. "You can find your own bloody wine."

He'd be reflecting on this conversation some fifteen minutes later, as he went stumbling about Turtle & Canary, drunk and soaking wet and cold, looking for a good bottle of wine, but right now he felt quite good about it.

[the_gatewatch]

After brunch, Nissa had fled. From the town, from the strangers, even from her own...people? Chandra said they were friends, but Nissa hadn't ever had friends enough to really know. Because even her friends made her feel nervous and off-balance and sometimes even smothered.

But out here, with the land and the trees, and the healthiness of the forest, she finally felt like she could breathe again. The mana here pulsed with life, she could feel the ley lines beneath her feet. This world's Worldsoul might be suffering in ways she could not understand, but this place here was...good.

Not counting the area where she could feel the dark coiling of the deathmage's - of Liliana's - magic, like the sickly sweet scent of decay. She instinctively turned to avoid it (grateful that Ignis had provided them another place to sleep that wasn't there), but that also turned out to be a mistake.

Because it left her stumbling out of the ring of trees and into the clearing where the onsen was located. The occupied onsen.

Oh no.

[thatsmysword]

She would be lucky in one sense: Hans was drunk, drunker than Henry still, and utterly oblivious to the rest of the world. Out of the two boys, the only who took care to respond to the sense of movement in the corner of his eye, to look and squint into the woods, was Henry.

He looked confused more than anything.

[the_gatewatch]

Unfortunately, Nissa had the same startle reflex as a deer, so rather than take that opportunity to sneak back into the woods and then run far away, she froze. Clutching her staff like a toddler with a teddy bear.

"Um."

[thatsmysword]

She looked... alarmed?

"Are you all right?" Henry called, ignoring the weird look Hans was giving him, shouting into the woods.

[the_gatewatch]

Fair! Because she was very alarmed!

"Oh," Nissa said. "Um. Yes? I didn't mean to disturb you..."

[thatsmysword]

"It's all right, it's a public bath!" Henry called back. "No worries!"

He sounded a bit like he was talking to a skittish horse.

[the_gatewatch]

Honestly, not an inapt description.

"O-Oh," Nissa said. She shuffled forwards a few steps. "Are you...also guests?"

Of it seemed like she was bad at conversations, it's because she was.

[thatsmysword]

"I live here, most of the time," Henry offered. "This i--"

"Sir Hans Capon," Hans said. Lazily, for once, as he was too busy hanging back in the hot water, feeling the wine slide up to his head. "I am a guest, but clearly not as lovely a one as y--"

That noise was what you got when you got a blacksmith's son's elbow shoved into your side very hard under the water.

[the_gatewatch]

She must not have been close enough for him to see the Deedlit ears, face tattoos, and green on green eyes. Or maybe she was, but he hadn't bothered looking any higher than her ribcage. Nissa wasn't good enough with people to know the difference. Or that those were even options.

"I'm Nissa," she said. "Nissa Revane. I'm here visiting..." Well. Sort of. She'd mostly just been swept into going with them. But she didn't like the deathwitch and hadn't spoken with Ignis enough to be comfortable near him, so was she really a visitor? Or was she merely present?

"Isn't a capon a castrated chicken?" she asked. Wait. Was that a bad question?

[thatsmysword]

Hans was extremely drunk, and tucked away in the furthest corner of the bath. He couldn't see shit. He was making judgments based almost entirely on the sound of her voice, which was also why Henry wasn't taking this one seriously.

Alright, so he hadn't taken any of them seriously thusfar, Hans being Hans, but this one, especially.

He also ignored the loud and offended squawk coming out of Hans right then.

"It's his last name," he explained. "But it's not important. Who are you visiting?"

He was getting a look at those green-on-green eyes now, and was making the executive decision to keep himself between Hans and this woman.

[the_gatewatch]

"His family named themselves after a castrated chicken?" Nissa asked. She did not understand humans at all, not on any plane, it seemed.

And then she looked down, fiddling with her hands and scuffing a toe through the dirt. "My companions decided to come visit the necromancer. Vess. Liliana."

[thatsmysword]

Technically Hans's last name literally translated to 'Birdie', but translators were gonna do what they were going to do.

"I'd stop mentioning the chicken," Henry said lightly, "He might sober up a bit more and take it as an insult."

Right now Hans was mostly burbling into his wine.

"She's that teacher, isn't she?"

[the_gatewatch]

Nissa looked confused. She was simply asking for clarification, to make sure she understood. Why would someone be insulted by their own family surname?

"If any of the teachers can be described as 'that teacher,' it is probably she," she said instead of asking. Not talking about things was easier than talking about them, obviously. "Are you taking her class?"

Teaching...whatever she was teaching? How To Enslave The Dead For Fun And Profit?

[thatsmysword]

"Ah, no," Henry said, leaning against the edge of the bath so he could talk to her properly. "Feels like I need another ten classes in order to understand what she's even teaching, to be honest."

[the_gatewatch]

"Are you enjoying school?" she asked. "I've never been to one. It seems very...constrained."

[thatsmysword]

Henry shrugged one shoulder. "Never had much of one back home," he said. "My father taught me how to be a blacksmith, and that was all I was expected to be. So I suppose I'm used to something more constrained, if any."

"He's bloody illiterate," Hans hollered from the back. Henry ignored him.

[the_gatewatch]

"The Joraga - my people - teach, but rarely in buildings. Nature is as much a teacher as any adult," Nissa said, her voice very soft. "Sometimes better. A teacher can show you the moves to swing a sword, but when a beast is glaring down at you, that is when practice becomes true skill."

[theotheridiot]

"But if you don't know how to swing a sword first, you'll be devoured before you can even get the damned thing out of the sheath," Hans argued, clearly waking up a bit. Even if it came out burpy. "Like Henry here, tripping over his own two bloody feet when we're barely even sparring."

"I distinctly remember beating you at archery right after," Henry muttered.

Hans waved that off. "You were lucky that day."

[the_gatewatch]

"I did not say otherwise," Nissa said, frowning in confusion. "If you do not have practice and instruction, then you have no foundation upon which to build. But practice is controlled circumstances. Fighting for your life is very different. Perseverance and pain are excellent teachers, but you will not know the true extent of your abilities until you are facing down something intent on killing you."

[thatsmysword]

"Or an angry husband," Hans mused. Loudly. Then burped. He squinted. "Your eyes are very... green."

"You're very drunk, sir Hans," Henry said, because he did not, it had to be said, want this to turn into a shouting match at a random woman who seemed terrified as it was.