01 - a retired lord commander walks into a bar

[thunderwarden]

01 the market stalls

Freedom tasted sweet, and since the moment he was brought to Flotsam, he got the impression he was going to like it here. Striding through one passage or another, listening to the erratic but somehow melodious sounds of Flotsam, he knew he could find a place here. It was busy, there were parts of it that smelled, but it was free, and it was populated by an eclectic bunch of renegades that reminded him so much of his own it made him homesick.

Which meant ploughing on until he secured his own space to brood in and hopefully acclimate to this place. After months slaving under Imperial lashes working on their machines, being here seemed like something of a miracle, and while he was bone tired, soul tired even, he couldn't very well leave the lot of them to their own devices. That meant he needed to be prepared, he needed to figure out what his role would be in this place, and he needed to meet the locals. So, top of the list? Preparation. The Empire had stripped him of all he'd had on him at the time, and that included his swords. They'd need to be replaced, which meant a trip to the market stalls for gear and armor if he was going to be of any use to these people who'd given him a chance at freedom.

He started at a weapons stall, testing the weight of swords with the skill of a man who'd done so all his life, sighting down the blades, one after another, feeling their weight in his hand. "Fine craftsmanship, mate." He smirked at the vendor, "less, of course, you don't make 'em here, then good eye, I guess. Either way, I'll take it."

He spends a bit more time browsing wares, getting a feel for the place, the sorts of goods that cross the decks of a floating city and the sorts of conversations that are had among the market stalls, finding a blessing by the end of it: a satchel of tobacco and rolling papers. Maybe fate's smiling on him after all.

02 waterlogged row

Taverns the world over, and those from another world he used to call home, shared common threads: people unwound there, they drank some kind of swill, and they talked. Where normally Cid would be taking this as an opportunity to learn ought that was going on around the realm, his knowledge of this world he'd found himself in was still limited to the point that he was just absorbing pieces: geography, politics beyond what little he'd been able to glean from overheard conversations from his captors, and anything else that might be useful.

Or rumors of where he could be useful. By the way he strode into the tavern in question, he knew how to use the swords at his hip, but he wasn't walking in threatening people with them, either. Instead, he makes to prop up the bar, so to speak, lighting a freshly rolled cigarette and ordering whatever's on tap while he keeps an eye out for any interesting individuals who might stride in.

03 wildcard

( ooc: Cid can be found in various places around Flotsam, as he's getting acclimated. I'd be totally down you you setting your own scene, or if you'd me to write a prompt, drop me a line! )

Comments

[purplexing]

The gesture makes the turtlekin instantly tense. He's never been particular big on physical contact, and that's on top of the imposing sort of air the man carries.

"I guess..? I was just looking for weapons- or rather parts for them. But you don't have to if you've got better things to do."

[thunderwarden]

The touch doesn't last longer, really just enough to get the lad's attention before he lets his hand fall away.

"I've only recently arrived, lad, and that sounds a lot like getting my bearings. What sorts of parts are you looking for?"

[purplexing]

"Oh!" Well, that makes a lot more sense. "You seem to be doing fine already," Donnie notes. Maybe if he were watching more carefully he'd pick out the telltale signs of a newcomer, but even then some of those who came, even if from other worlds, tended to go along with things pretty easily, and he imagines it's because they're used to roaming, back home.

"Firearms," he answers, head tilting as he consults a mental list. "And maybe a thin blade but I don't know if they make anything the width I'm looking for unless it's like...a kitchen knife."

[thunderwarden]

He wouldn't be wrong in Cid's case. Even though he and his lot had a base of operations, he kept to the road for the most part. Difficult to free people if you weren't moving.

"I might need some details on the 'firearms', but for the other," he smirks slightly, "have you thought about looking for a kitchen knife?"

[purplexing]

"Like...guns. Rifles, more specifically. But I'd also be interested in something smaller, and if they're just parts, then that's fine too."

Donnie looks around before starting towards where he's pretty sure some weapon stalls are located.

"I... No?" he admits, frowning some at the kitchen knife subject. "Well, I guess it could do in a pinch..."

[thunderwarden]

Admittedly, the Imperials didn't exactly give him lessons on the weapons around here. All the better to keep him ignorant, considering his mouth and his tendency to stick his nose where it didn't belong. He thinks he might have heard of the guns now that he pieces thoughts together, though. Hand canons, essentially. "Heard of 'em, haven't used one, though." He arches an eyebrow. "Parts are fine, eh? Fancy yourself an engineer, then?"

Because if Cid was honest, he wouldn't mind getting his hands on one of them himself, just so he can figure out how it ticks and maybe use it to his advantage.

He laughs at the turtlekin's reaction, patting his shoulder. "We're rebels, lad. Adapt. Let's see what we can scare up, then."

[purplexing]

Donnie brightens at that. "Yes'sir! I make all my gear."

He blinks before offering a faint laugh himself. "Guess that's true." How silly of him overlooking obvious answers! He's been scavenging for most of his life so why not look into something readily available?

"I don't use firearms either, but I'd told someone I'd look into trying to improve on a rifle design closer to what she's used to. Although with most of the Imperials using range weapons, I've been considering trying something smaller. Side arm? I'm more of a melee person though..."

[thunderwarden]

"Do you, now?" He smiles. "Well, lad, you'll have to show me what you've cooked up. there's something to be said for versatility."

He nods, starting off into the crowd, using his greater size to cut a path. "Let's find that knife, then, eh?"

He nods. "Sounds like you're quite the tinkerer then, lad, but you've got a point. Melee's where the fun is, eh? More flexible, too. Let's you think on your feet instead of planning. Sidearm might not be a bad idea though, if we're up against Imperials." At least if you don't have other tricks up your sleeve.

"What's your name, son?"

[purplexing]

It certainly helps having someone taller to clear a way. Donnie drifts after him with a nod. He pats at his belt, slipping out a carbonized metal rod of sorts from the holster at his side. It's about the length of his forearm.

"Not that there's anything bad about planning," he says, being an avid planner, but he has to agree that there's something about fighting in close-quarters that comes off as more natural, all instinct, reflex, response.

"My name's Donatello. Mostly I just go by Donnie. Are you a melee fighter too?"

[thunderwarden]

"Aye, plans are nice, comfortable things that keep you organized, but letting things unfold as they will? That's what keeps you sharp, lad."

He accentuates his partial jest with a wink and a smirk before nodding. "Always was a deft hand with a sword. Eventually, I got it in my head to get paid to use it, and here we are." With a lot of other things along the way, but those were tales for other times.

"Cidolfus, if you're feeling formal, but Cid'll do me just fine. Nice to meet you, Donnie."

[purplexing]

"I...guess that's true," Donnie concedes. Not that it stops him from trying to anticipate things, prepare for any outcome. Realistically he knows there's limitations, but he also knows to some extent, you can still avoid a lot of unnecessary problems.

"Nice to meet you too, Cid."

Ah, a sword user. The turtlekin finds himself smiling crookedly in turn, not at all hard to envision the man with a blade. "My brother's been trained to use two." Although his brother's never really been in an actual fight so outside of when they'd train together, Donnie can't say how good he'd really be, especially now knowing that there are so many other factors when you find yourself in a real battle.

"I use a staff," he says instead, backtracking away from thoughts of the family he misses. He holds up the rod, beaming with pride, and once they've got some space around them, he extends it to full length.

[thunderwarden]

It's really not true, Donnie. Please don't follow his advice on plans. They're usually half-cocked, but at least typically he has the skill and luck to make it work. He'll wax poetic about it also, if given the chance.

"A duel-wielder, is he? I used to, myself." Back before the curse started claiming his off-arm, but that was a whole lot of conversation for a first time, and he doesn't want to burden the lad with his problems.

He laughs at the display, impressed. "That's a neat trick. I reckon people have a hard time seeing that coming."

[purplexing]

Not like he plans to. Hahaha....

Donnie nods. "He's not too bad until he starts tripping over his own feet," he says, smiling crookedly, a wistful sort of expression. He misses his age-twin.

"I try not to let them see me until I have to. But it's a good surprise to have on hand. That's also why I'm looking for a thin blade." He gives the staff a half-twirl, retracting it. "I bet I could slip one in. Might have to rework the grapple but there should still be room if it's on the opposite end..."

[thunderwarden]

Thank goodness for that.

He chuckles at that. "Aye, that'll put a stop to anyone's heroics." But he's not an unobservant man, if he was he wouldn't have lived this long being as reckless as he is, and he can tell talking about his family saddens the lad. He could relate. There was a reason he was trying his best not to think of home.

"Clever that. A hidden blade, is it? Maybe something spring-loaded?" His first hint he knows anything at all about engineering himself.

[purplexing]

"Exactly!" Donnie pipes, always glad to find a willing ear for his babblings. "I'll have to rework the end-cap to accommodate it, but it's not like this hasn't been a constant work in progress. There's always ways to make it better."

He looks up at Cid. "Have you worked with something like that before?"

[thunderwarden]

"Not this specifically, but I've got a good enough grasp on how moving parts make other parts move to follow the idea. Trick's making the joint sturdy enough to withstand the force of actually using it, though."

He starts to have a look around at the surrounding stalls for something that might pull off what Donnie was looking for.

"You do plan on using it, don't you?"

[purplexing]

Donnie nods thoughtfully. "I've considered that. Definitely be the most tricky part, balancing sturdiness while compacting the means to properly eject the blade."

He looks over things, trying not to get too distracted by anything else that might catch his eye, but he's always open to looking for potential parts and items that might serve for later projects.

"It'd be a pointless addition if I wasn't," he says, brow arching at the man. "...it doesn't have to necessarily be as a weapon." He can think of plenty of good uses for blades that don't involve lobbing off someone's arm.

[thunderwarden]

"Depends on the materials, too. Steel's the most likely, most common, too. Do you know if this world's got any mithril? Stuff's light as air and sturdier than diamond once it's worked. Doesn't rust. Back home, our own Imperials love the stuff, but there's a trick to working it."

He nodded at Donnie's declaration. No, it didn't need to be used as a weapon, but having one ready was always a good idea. "Aye, lad, that's true enough, but you should always be ready to have a blade turned on you and meet it in kind."

[purplexing]

"Mithril's available!" Donnie says. "But it is rare. Titanium's the next best thing- that's what I used for this rebuild- my first one got dented in pretty badly so it wouldn't retract, and that was steel."

He tries to hide a wince at the reminder. "I know. But I can still meet a blade with a staff."

[thunderwarden]

"And then you need someone to work it properly, which is even more rare, at least the mithril where I'm from. Usually takes a smith a few decades to master the craft." And he knows one, but Blackthorne's not here to his knowledge. If he is, though...he's rescuing that man in a heartbeat. "Titanium's not one I've heard of, but I wield swords, I don't forge 'em."

The man invented a forge, but that didn't mean he knew how to properly work one. That took artistry he'd leave to his betters. "Aye, lad, you can, at least one made of metal, and you can bludgeon a man into submission as easily as you can bleed him out."

[purplexing]

"Yeah?" Sounds like an intriguing challenge to him! "I'll admit, I've only heard of it. I know that General-grade Armor uses it. Titanium's a step between that and steel if we're talking most commonly used. Lightweight, but even sturdier than steel."

Donnie smiles wryly while he lets his eyes wander the various trinkets of one of the booths. "It helps to know where to hit most effectively. At least a staff doesn't make things as messy." He pauses to pick up a pocket watch, turning it over between his fingers.

[thunderwarden]

"Sounds like the stuff's just as rare here, then. Imperial Dragoons wear the stuff where I'm from. They answer to the Imperial Prince so they warrant fancy gear, I suppose." He shrugs. "'Course, they also get pretty jumpy with their spears, so lighter garb's a bonus. Maybe we ought to keep an eye out for the stuff, next time we've an outing. Even if we can't do anything with it now, wouldn't hurt to have it on hand, eh?"

He raises an eyebrow at the pocket watch. "Any plans for that?"

[purplexing]

Donnie snickers a little. "Oh, I don't doubt that it's rare. But I'm not talking armor you wear, I mean the big ones that are piloted." He grins. "Have you been to the armory in the Vault? If not I can show you some time- I scavenged a Commander-class Armor. Titanium-grade, needs some repairs, but it can fly!"

He is so excited to get that thing running.

"But you're absolutely right, it's always good having some backup material, ready for upgrading or what have you!"

That's a good question though. Donnie hums thoughtfully as he winds the knob to see if it still works.

"Not specifically. But I can find a lot of uses for tiny gears and springs. Or who knows, maybe someone else will want a chronometer built into their ENC." He glances up at Cid, smiling crookedly as he holds his left wrist up to show the bracer he wears, flipping the cover up with a finger. "I designed this one. Makes it easier to access when you've got your hands full."

[thunderwarden]

Piloted armor? That flies Donatello immediately has his attention. Before things went sideways back home, Cid and his daughter were working on trying to figure out how the Fallen empire's ships had flown. He's wanted to understand the airships here since, well, since the first time he was transported on one while under the Empire's yoke.

"That sounds handy enough." He nods. "And I might be interested. I wouldn't mind having a look at your armor, either. For...academic reasons. I've been trying to understand the airships since I got here, but they weren't exactly forthcoming with information."

[purplexing]

"Swing by the Vault some time and I'll set you up," Donnie promises. "And I'll gladly show you the Armor too!" He smiles knowingly. Academic reasons, huh.

"Oh, I'm not surprised. Especially if you're talking Imperials. They don't like to share." He pats at his pockets before pulling out some payment for the watch. "You're in luck though; as it so happens, I've got an airship you can have a look at. Shu and I stole it when we were looking for missing cattle."