sixthiterationlogs | here he comes [ squall and 3 open threads ]

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here he comes [ squall and 3 open threads ]

WHO: Squall Leonhart
WHERE: South Village (fountain, then inn, then house 16)
WHEN: Oct. 31st (morning, late morning, early afternoon)
OPEN TO: Any!
WARNINGS: None now!

Fountain Foundation / Morning

Water. Again.

At first, Squall could only register that annoyance. He was taken out of his familiar settings again and tossed into water again. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. His actions were mechanical at first, and he refused to think about the consequences of this new setting. He had to swim towards the light. He had to pull himself out of the wet fountain to the cold fall air. He had to search in the backpack for a coat.

But once his immediate survival was secure, he looked around himself with a little more interior trepidation. It didn’t look like a dangerous landscape, but that was about the only good mark. He didn’t have his gunblade or his clothes…or Griever.

It was when he noticed the loss of his necklace that he really paid attention to his magenta clothes. They were far from his normal blacks and greys, and he didn’t like them at all. Nor did he have a good feeling about the device around his wrist that he couldn’t remove.

But with typical determination, he leaned back on his heels, crouched, and stared at the buildings and the cornfield.

Well, Leonheart. What’s it going to be this time? he thought to himself, trying to keep his thoughts away from his friends and family. He had to understand his surroundings. Then he could worry about where they were…and whether he would see them again.

When he noticed someone nearing the fountain, he rose to his feet and made eye contact—he should probably say something, but verbalizing wasn’t his strong suit, even now.

INNformation / Late Morning

An important job for both SeeD and…whatever he was in Traverse Town and Hollow Bastian…was information gathering. A mercenary and a member of a restoration committee could not succeed without having as many details as possible.

Thankfully, the first step for information was not very many steps. He went into the hotel—inn—and looked through the Public Records. Things that had happened, people and what they could do…

It was a lot of information to take in. It reminded him of the SeeD classroom, with lesson after lesson after lesson. Still, it would take him more than one reading to remember this without knowing more context.

He leaned back against the wall and rubbed his forehead. No sign of his comrades. No sign of anyone he had even heard of. Hyne, this is starting all over again.

House Hunting / Early Afternoon

Squall knew he could stay at the Inn, but he didn’t entertain that thought very long. He was prepared to make relationships and form those teams to do good with this village, but it was something completely different to want to live right next door to someone he didn’t know.

A part of him was also drawn to something a little…larger. Nothing would be as large and well designed as Garden, and he didn’t really mind not being in charge of that, but the house in Traverse Town wasn’t big enough. Merlin’s house was a much better base, roomier, and he wanted to find something that could be like that again. He wanted not just a place to sleep, but a place his team could meet.

Not that he had a team, but sooner or later, he would have one. It would be difficult and depressing at first, because he could never replace his friends, but this wasn’t about replacing them. It certainly wasn’t about forgetting them.

He didn’t wander far to choose a house that seemed abandoned, judging from all the dust. Keeping the door open, he started to sort through all the rooms to check for any problems.

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"Oh yeah, training can be a one-way stop to injuries too. I saw someone lose a hand while training. Zigged when they should've zagged. Very bloody. But he got a great hook out of it. So much better with that than with his actual ziggy hand, you know?" Yep Hawke could take just about anything and chatter away at it. She peered at the scar, thinking it was very lucky he was so pretty that it only seemed to make him better looking. That was a skill!

"Gunblade? What's that? Sounds fantastic." She clapped her hands and then gestured at him. "C'mon, pretty boy, let's walk and talk, I'll get you to the inn."

Losing a hand in training? That was almost impressive in how drastic an error that was.

Wait, did she just call him pretty boy?

He looked startled and tilted his head slightly, but let that slide. "A gunblade is--" He was about to say what it sounds like, but she might not know what a gun is. "It is a large sword that can also fire small projectiles." He sighed a little to himself as he walked next to her. "What's at the inn?" He knew what an inn was, but this world, who knew.

Hawke's eyes widened. "You're kidding me. That sounds bloody fantastic. And impossible. How does it do that?" She tried to imagine it. Not that they use projectiles much outside of arrows, and she doesn't think it's possible to have a sword that doubles as a bow. If she could, she'd have a dozen of them. Crossbows could sometimes include blades, but ... this sounded special.

"It's where you get information about the place. Someone's written it all down. What's gone on in the past, what's going on now, who is doing what, whatever else. And it also has food and such." It was in general a good medium place for all newcomers as they got their bearing. Part of the thing that she did, greeting people like this, led to showing them where to go from there. She didn't mind. New friends!

"It's a difficult weapon to master." Why did he feel he might have this conversation with a lot of people? He didn't particularly feel like explaining it, either. "It's better to explain with sketches." He doubted he had any of the Weapons Magazines here.

Information and food were arguably the most important things to start with. Squall might be stoic, but even he nodded. "I appreciate that."

"So if you're far away from someone, you shoot them, but if you're up close, you stab them. If I could be in love with a weapon, this sounds like the one." She'd draw hearts around it if she saw it sketched out. That must be a bad weapon to lose though, now she felt bad for him.

"Great! Let's go." He was really cute, in that tall strong and silent type. Hawke wishes Fenris was there if only to see who could out-stoic each other. Except Fenris scowled more and was generally unpleasant until he knew you. This kid was quiet, that's all. "So where you from?"

"That's the gist of it. You sound like you have a good understanding of weapons." At least she got very excited about them, which usually meant they were well. He wondered what sort of position she had in her own world.

He followed along easily and answered. "Originally, a place called Balamb Garden. It's a mercenary school." He waited for her reaction--he had a feeling she would answer questions without him even asking.

"Oh yes, it's literally my job to be good at them." And after the next part, she smiles quickly. "And how about that, I'm a mercenary myself." It's the best summary of what she did. The Champion title has more weight to it, but the truth is being the Champion meant going around killing people for the city. So basically the same thing. With a fancy title. Hawke started as a mercenary in Kirkwall to get money and protection for her family, and it's how she sees herself.

"I fight with a bow and with dual knives. If I could have a projectile stabby thing, I would take it." She doesn't seem bothered at all that he was from a mercenary school. "I started fighting young too. We didn't have a school though, not exactly. You learned from parents or warriors that roamed around, or if you joined anywhere that wanted fighters at hand."

Somehow knowing that she's a mercenary too put Squall more at ease. It was hard to tell whether or not people would understand the constant fighting, but she would. He was also right that she would provide most of the information he needed without him having to ask anything. He appreciated that.

If she fought with bow and knives, she probably truly would appreciate the gunblade. "What does this place have for weapons?" That is maybe the most important question to ask period.

Hawke was startled by the lack of fighting so far. She wouldn't say it was a bad thing, she'd gone though many vicious and lethal fights before coming here, but she still looked over her shoulder. Waiting for the next disaster. So far it was quiet. Too quiet. Except when she came across young mercenaries needing a guide!

"Not many! There are some blades in the group supplies. I grabbed knives from there and I've been making my own arrows." She used an axe to cut the wood needed for those and whittled from there. "There's nothing as sophisticated as what you and I would want to use. No professional weapons to speak of." The bows and blades were tolerable, but only that. "There is someone who has a forge here, though, I haven't brought him a task yet, but maybe soon."

Squall was not going to know what to do with quiet at first, but he would find a way to make himself useful. People needed to eat, people needed places to live. There would have to be something for someone like him to do.

It was unfortunate that there weren't many weapons, but at least there were some. He would have to avail himself of a blade that he could find there until he could hopefully talk to this forge person. "That's good to know. Thank you." He was used to finding material for his weapons, so he could probably work out a deal.

Hawke so far simply rolled with everything. She met people, she chattered, she scouted the surrounding areas, and she plotted ways to be useful. It's the art of a mercenary, honestly, and they both were already thinking that way. Find out what people need and provide that. It's lucrative in favors if not in money at the moment. There's no point to money in this situation.

"You're the strong silent type, aren't you?" She smiles at him. "That's okay, I'm the strong and loud type." Hawke is deceptively normal looking, but her air of competency and confidence is earned. She's fought several powerful people single handedly, the stuff of legends, and Varric writes about every one of them.

He had a lot to think about, and when he thought, he was quiet. He also tended to think most of the time, not just when a lot was happening. So, yes, actually, strong and silent type did fit him well.

"I've known a few of those." Seifer. Zell. Selphie. They could each be loud. And while Squall hadn't seen her abilities firsthand, he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She certainly talked like she knew something about what she was talking about.

Hawke smiles at him and stifles a laugh behind her hand, and it doesn't succeed to hide anything. "You just ... really remind me of a mate of mine. I could chatter at him for an hour and he'd reply with a sentence." Fenris did talk once he let people into his life. Eventually he and Hawke had real conversations and they went through hell together. It took a long time before he came around to not all mages being evil, after all. If they didn't have all those conversations, they might've had to fight him in the end.

"It's not a bad thing at all, by the way, I love him quite dearly. He's a good fellow, just likes to keep his own counsel." Which she assumes is the same of Squall. She gestures to the inn once the arrive. "Alright, love, here you are. Get inside and get dry, there's food and water and the like. If you see a house that looks uninhabited, just take it over for now. There's no real rules or anything, generally don't be a dick." Hawke salutes. "I've got to get back to scouting while there's list, but pop by here any time during lunch, they have a free one and you can meet up with the rest of us."

[Wrap on yours or here? ]

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here he comes [ squall and 3 open threads ]

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