Hypothetically Speaking

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Log Info

  • Title: Hypothetically Speaking
  • Emitter: Warrick
  • Place: Wilderness Pointe
  • Summary: Warrick catches Schara on a supply run from Am'shere, and some hypothetical relationships get blundered about.
Wilderness Pointe, Late Morning

The heat finally has ceased its bite. Still humid and hot, however, enough that being out for such extended times in the shade wasn't out of the question. Hunters file in from the woods nearby, spreading out to various stalls to barter and trade with the local populace.

One such figure hands over a bundle of hares, them quite damaged from the hunt. The vendor takes a glance at it, before looking up at the middle aged Eldanr man. "... you know I can only give you a silver for all this, right?" they say.

Warrick rubs his neck, clad in a simple brown tunic with his large crossbow dangling from a shoulder. "... I know."

"This is why you don't use /siege/ crossbows for hunting-"

"I know...." Warrick sighs, waving to hurry up with the transaction before completing it. Coins in hand, he ambles around the market, spying a... is that a makari stall from Am'shere? That's certainly new. What's been developing as of late to bring that in?

Wilderness pointe, one of the closest spots of civilization relevant to the am'shere portal, and a frequent stop for weary travelers coming and going to the place.

One such traveler was wandering into town with a large clanking backpack on them, Schara came wandering in to the market area, looking a bit more peachy than normal, with many splotches on their face in various shapes.

"Surely they sell copper wire here, right? Don't they use it for hunting traps?" The artificer wonders out loud, readjusting their pack with one of their wooden arms. "And is that Warrick? It's good to see him, but should I let him know I'm here, or will he just worry about me being burnt?"

Warrick is amusing himself people watching with a redscale and greenscale trading out jerky for supplies for softskins, them chuckling as the softskins cough and hack from the spice.

But some clanking draws his attention to the northeastern path. His brows raise, him shifting to step in an trade for some spicy jerky for some fresh bones he found before breaking off to intercept the elf.

He raises a hand. "Schara!" he greets across the way, ambling towards them and- he seems to catch the peachiness, his lazy gait picking up to a light jog. "Schara, hey. You alright?" he asks, inspecting her with a tinge of worry. "There's an herbalist here if you need some balm?" Straight to solutions.

It seemed like such considerations were abruptly answered by Warrick noticing they were nearby. "Ah, I should have known that a loud bag of armor would draw some attention. There is nothing for it, then." The artificer muses quietly to herself as he jogs closer. The elf offers a stiff wave back.

"Oh, hello Warrick, it is good to see you!" They greet with a smile to the ex-guard, which turns to a slight wince as still healing skin is pulled in different ways. "I am mostly alright, I was just burned pretty badly. Is there an herbalist in town? Perhaps I should pick up some but also how are you doing? It has been some time since seeing you last, I hope you are doing alright."

"It's good to see you too," Warrick echoes with a light smile. But it slips away to a concerned line. His shoot up briefly before knitting together. "Burned again? Uh, yeah, there's the Herbal Shop right over there," he jabs a thumb over his shoulder.

"I'm okay. Been mostly helping Cinny out with random things around town. Just doing some hunting currently. I'm... not very good at it," he admits, rubbing his neck. Warrick refocuses before he takes the elf in. "What have /you/ been doing? Are you still doing things in Am'shere? You came from that path."

"Yes, burned again." Schara nods, followed by a short sigh. "I thought that the modifications to my armor would help with not being badly burnt again, but it seems I was wrong. There is only so much you can do to stop metal from conducting heat save for magical means, so it was more hopeful than anything." #r

The artificer turns to wander in the direction of the herbalist, once she was sure Warrick was following along, even stopping to look behind her. "How are you not good at hunting? You are excellent with a crossbow." Schara points out, tilting her head to one side as she walks and very obviously not answering his question. "Do you need any help with things for Cinny?"

Warrick listens quietly with a firm expression. But after a moment, his expression cracks. "... you're alive. I'd say that wasn't hopeful thinking. I had faith in your excursion."

He follows after her, readjusting the strap on his large crossbow. There's an... embarrassed look that crosses the man's face. "... too good. I am just hunting with whatever I have. My crossbow is... too good. The hares I hunted were uh... missing half of them when I turned them in."

His slate gaze drifts over her. Glances to the path she came from. Then mentions, "Not at present, she's at Lomi's. But- Schara- you /do/ realize you are talking with an ex-Watch. You didn't answer my question."

The implication being details don't easily slip by.

"It did very little to actually prevent trauma caused from excessive heat." The artificer answers, pausing and stopping. "But I am alive, yes, which is good. I am glad you had faith in me, since I do not wish to worry you unnecessarily."

"Maybe you need a smaller crossbow? I am not certain how many hares you would need to hunt for it to be worth the investment however, but it is an option maybe. I wish I could supplement my food with hunting, but it is not too feasible, since I can not draw a bow anymore, and a firearm is equally overly destructive for any small game."

The elf tilts her head, then nods. "I have been working in Am'shere to deal with charnite slavers and scientists, and I didn't wish to worry you but they have plans to spread a disease across am'shere and turn most of the makari there into mindless slaves." The artificer answers.

Warrick smiles lightly. "Not unnecessarily worried, but just a little bit worried. But I am usually am for my friends."

A little chuckle leaves him. "Or just get a bow. I'm trained with it, but its an unnecessary expense right now." He ponders for a moment, looking at her arm. "... could work with Slatesteel and get a light crossbow for an arm. Do a little artifice to get a self-winding winch? I'm sure you could figure it out," he encourages.

The man stops dead in his tracks in front of the herbalist's shop. "... they. /What,/" he whispers in a hiss. "Goddess, Schara. That's... terrible. Are /you/ okay?" Warrick asks, voice dropping and stepping closer.

"It is a possibility that I could consider asking her about, maybe I will when I have some time." The artificer considers after the momentary pause. "I am sorry, I guess if you are my friend it is not unnecessary, and is welcome."

Schara was moving to enter the shop, but Warrick hesitated, and Schara turns, and frowns. "They are planning on making a new disease spreading medium that becomes airborne from external heat." Schara answers. "It is terrible, and I am not okay, I nearly killed a naked man in a bathtub for being a slaver and that was the sensible choice given they tried to teleport away instead of surrendering, I had to carry two halves of a makari who died trying to free others who were chained up in a room being bled dry to collect it for their experiments, and all of my allies and friends were burnt and injured more than I was in the process, including mister Skielstregar who met the person who was responsible for turning him into what he is now." Schara rambles. "I am not okay, but I need to deal with that later, as I came back to get supplies, as I need to return as soon as possible to ensure that any disease shipments they already sent out do not reach where they are supposed to."

Warrick stares at the elf as they elaborate. His jaw sets. A hand shifts over to grip at his scarred and tattooed arm. Slate eyes grow half focused. Schara went through all that? It all sounds like a nightmare. Like his own, trapped in a windmill, ammo spent, with all his once friends clawing below to feast upon him and his captain.

And he drifts back, listening to his friend preparing to gear back up and head out to stop. "S-Schara I-," his voice cracks. The normally stoic once-guard looking mildly distraught. His crossbow drops to the grassy ground as he steps forward and carefully loops his arms around her torso. "-I am so sorry you went through all that."

Schara tilts her head, and the frown deepens. "I can see this is bothering you, which is why I did not want to bring it up." They begin to answer, before the arm loops around her. The artificer freezes for a moment, before awkwardly lifting her arms to give the ex-guard a hug. "Please do not be too forceful as I am still badly burned, but if you want to hug me back then it would not be unwelcome Warrick, I am sorry that I am not good at hugging but it looks like you are bothered even more." The elf rambles. "I am sorry I had to go through this, but if I have to to make sure that my friends are safe and no one else is harmed, then I am not sorry in that regard, though I wish it wasn't necessary."

Warrick nods once, him not really pulling in with his arms. But what he does do is unlink one, bringing a hand up to hold the back of Schara's head, pulling it carefully to his shoulder. "Schara, I-" a shudder leaves him. "I know exactly what it- what you're feeling right now."

His voice quiets to a soft murmur. "I've been in your position. You feel like you have to keep going. You can't stop to feel. You have things to do, people to keep safe, appearances to keep up. You've come so far since I've met you, Schara. But- please. Take a bit, even just a moment, for yourself."

He closes his eyes. "I don't want you to go through the same things I did."

Schara tilts her head as her head is brought to Warrick's shoulder, only for a moment before she sighs and gently rests against it. "You can not exactly know what I am feeling at the moment, given I do not expect you to have been in the exact same situation as I am, but I understand, you may have been in a similar situation that could shape how you were feeling, which would lead to an understanding. I am sorry if that is the case."

"It's very difficult Warrick, I need to go back and help these people, you are right, and stopping to unwind is not a possibility to do when time is so critical. I have friends that are depending on me, but I also need to make sure I am safe in my work, since I do not know how you would react if I was to die on one of these jobs." The elf continues rambling. "I do not have many friends, but I know this is not entirely normal, and I'm worried you may have romantic feelings for me in some regard somehow, but I may be wrong on that, I am not certain."

Now that get the worried man's anxiety to crack a tiny bit. A small huff of a chuckle leaves him. "No, Schara. I haven't been through the same, but I've been through some pretty messed up stuff as well. I just... don't want someone to go through the same fallout as me."

And he quiets, listening. His shoulders drop some, like he was regretfully facing hard truths. "Time critical things are never smooth, you're right, you don't have time to stop. But just- Worried about the people around me dying. Happened too many times to count."

But now /that/ certainly stymies him. Warrick blinks, pulling away somewhat to look at Schara bewildered. His pale face tinged. "I... uh..." He looks at the glass of the herbalist's shop, seeing their reflection. Mainly his own. "... I apologize Schara. I... am not very good at this. I don't know if this is some kind of human-elf cultural miscommunication or.. something. I know you and I had an odd friendship, that much is true. I just... want to support you. It feels like you don't get a lot of that, and I'm trying to express- something I am terrible at- that I am here to support you."

He looks back at her, holds the gaze, then looks off to the side. "... if that comes off as romantic, and if it is unwelcome, I am sorry for that."

Seems like he can ramble too.

GAME: Schara rolls wisdom: (17)+1: 18

"I know there is something with you and miss Slatesteel, she doesn't like to talk about some things from when she was a guard, and I remember from when I brought you back to your home there was similar topics. I am sorry you went through that Warrick, but I appreciate what you are doing to help me."

"I understand Warrick, that's why I came back here to make sure that I have the necessary supplies before I return."

Schara looks to warrick, and her head tilts one way. "Oh, well, thank you, Warrick, I am sorry if I assumed too much, that is something I was worried about." The artificer sighs as she turns to watch the window as well. I am sorry, I don't know much about elves and humans either, but I appreciate your support, and that you feel open to express your support."

Schara looks back, and the elf tilts her head again. "But you are sayin, you are only sorry if it came off as romantic and it was unwelcome? I guess that makes sense."

Warrick nods solemnly. "Aye. We... had a very bad go about it. Erm. I can tell you about it some time, after you save Am'shere," he lightly jokes. His expression softens. "... it's the least I can do."

He watches her, trying to read the enigmatic elf after his spiel. At this point, he's learned that they catalog everything mentally and weight every syllable for value. "You're welcome," he says after that. "I... honestly don't know much either, to be honest. My cultural familiarities are Khazad, Goblin, and Nar in nature. But..."

He meets her attention once more, finding the curious head tilted the other way. She's asking questions- no, processing. The man's face tinges a shade deeper crimson. His hands release her, and he rubs at the side of his face as a long sigh escapes him. "I think we need to... clear the air," he mumbles. "Why would you be worried- hypothetically, of course- if there was romantic feelings involved?"

"Please tell me about it some time Warrick, if you are comfortable doing so. I find that speaking openly helps me process most feelings, and much as you have supported me with this, perhaps I could provide support to you as well."

"I wish I could give you an honest answer myself, but I spent most of my life on my familie's farm, and anything I could tell you of humans and elves would be atypical given my own nature and experiences. I agree though, clearing the air is a good idea, I am sorry for making things awkward by assuming something like that." She agrees with a low nod as she takes a step to one side. "Hypothetically? If that was the case, I would be worried for a lot of reasons. Even just as a friend I am worried, since it seems you do not have many friends you are comfortable relaxing with and doing things with, like myself. I would be worried because Cynthia and your sister seemed quite happy to see you going out and doing things with me." The elf begins listing off. "But if there were romantic feelings, I would be worried due to the passing of your wife who you have made it clear you cared about deeply. I would worry that putting you through a situation like that would be worse a second time."

Warrick smiles to himself. "I'd like that. We'd need a couple drinks though," he chuckles quietly before stepping to the side with her and turning to face the market itself. Another laugh, this one more self-depreciating as he grinds the sole of his boot into the earth. "... I am an awkward person. Always have been. I... figured this topic would come up sooner or later."

His gaze meets his worn boots. "I have a few friends now. Slatesteel. Simony. You. Um..." he fidgets. "Telamon, somewhat. It's... much more than before. Sis teases me all the time, but Cynthia is excited I'm actually getting out and doing things now."

But at this, he raises his chin, looking up to the dark clouds in the sky. "It's true. I do care about Persi a lot. She's something that is going to be a part of me for the rest of my life. Her passion. Her creativity. But... I know it doesn't seem that long for you, Schara, but she passed on from illness ten years ago. Cynthia was /four/. And- honestly you wouldn't be putting me through that. I'd be the one passing before you. Lifespans and all that."

A wind rustles through the open markets, tussling his hair to the side. His throat bobs. A sigh escapes him. "... look, Schara. I'm thirty seven. I've hit a point in my life where figuring out what to do next is incredibly hard. I've had my wife, then the guard, as a constant for the longest time. Now I don't really know what to do, except keep an eye on adventurers for the city."

His hands find their way into his pockets. "I feel aimless. And trying to find myself again is hard. Hypothetically speaking, I don't even know if you'd want something like that."

"If you need a few drinks to talk about it, just make sure it is only a couple, I would not want you to be addled by alcohol before speaking to me of such matters, but I would like to speak." Schara nods as she stops, and tilts her head again. "You thought this topic would come up? Did you think I would be wondering if you have feelings for myself?" She wonders aloud. "You are right, that is a lot more now, I am glad, and I do not find it funny." The elf nods once again. "No, I do not think it is a short time, as things are relative. Even then, ten years is not a short time."

The artificer turns to look back at the herbalist's shop, and frowns again. "I wouldn't be certain of that given my adventuring work is often dangerous, and I find myself exhausted and ill even more often and severely from using my artifice armor. And I would not want you to see someone you care about falling ill and passing away before you again." She states to the wall. "You have goals and dreams like anyone else, I can see that. But in this hypothetical question again, I am uncertain in spite of everything I have said and considered. There are so many things to worry about, after all."

"I figured it would come up, ever since you mentioned 'something that friends don't do' at the river," Warrick admits quietly to his boots. "And it is not a short time at all," he agrees.

The once-guard listens quietly, side glances taken to find the elf staring at the wall. But that awkward expression gains a softness to it. "... that's... very kind of you to be mindful of that. I just worry you are over doing it without someone there to help temper your usage, or to aid in advancement of your artifice armor."

He's quiet. "I'm uncertain too," he croaks out, turning to face her. A deep breath. "But there's always going to be worry. Because of our positions, our lives, our professions. I am not as old as you, so I do not have some perceptions you have garnered thus far. But even this far into my life, I've come to learn one thing: it's that regretting something is harder than the worries. My wife died with no regrets. She died peacefully, hands stained of paint surrounded by canvases she'd done in the short span of her degradation. You saw them. The places in the city that we've been to with our daughter. She passed with a smile."

His face felt wet, but he didn't find pause to stop and dry them. "I have so many regrets. I regret not spending more time with Cynthia as she grew up. I regret wallowing for years about my wife and not properly grieving. I regret not getting to know my squad better before they all died."

"I just want to help you, Schara. As selfish as it is, I'd like to not have one more thing to add to that growing pile. I'd like to look back at us, whatever we are, from death or from life, and say 'I'm really glad I helped them reach their potential'."

He sniffles, cleaning his nose. "H-Hypothetically, of course."

"Ah, yes, that." The elf nods once. "You are correct,that is what made me wonder how you felt about me. I am sorry, I am overdoing it most likely, but I do not know what I can do to avoid using it. My studies at the guild have not been fruitful of late, but I am hoping at least I will figure something out." Schara adds, sounding more than a bit uncertain.

"But, I understand. I have worked through many things with the help of my friends here, and come to realize that staying in the past will stop you from moving forward, and stop you from acting fairly. I am trying to be better, but I still have trouble, and I should apologize to miss Andelena when I have the chance."

Schara turns to face Warrick again, and they give the ex-guard another smile. "It is a paradox, I guess? Being selfish, but also not at the same time, depending onpoint of view as well. But, I think that I appreciate you're help Warrick, though I'm unsure what is hypothetical there."

And there it is. Pouring out his woes, worries, regrets into raw words from the heart. Warrick doesn't know what he wants. He's been lost since he's been discharged from the Watch. "I can help you with figuring something out, at the very least. I don't want you to overtax your body."

Yet, he gets a smile for it. "... that hypothetical was a flimsy shield," he hoarsely admits through a sheepish smile. At least he felt lighter. All those words needed to be said, and badly. He still wished he'd have her opinion about that tangled mess, but that'd be a bridge for another time. The human looks at her. "See to it that you apologize, I know you don't get along with clergy well, but she's a good woman. But my... floundering has held you up long enough. Let's get you some burn balm and I can administer it, if you wish."

He steps towards the door, scooping up his crossbow along the way, and opens the store door for the burned elf.

"I do no want to over tax myself as well." Schara nods after a moment. "I have a lot of friends here, at least compared to before, which was none, and my family back home, of course who wanted me to do better out here, I don't want to disappoint them. But at the same time, there are a lot of people who I need to help in am'shere, for now, and I will worry about more later."

"Ah, so that was, and what of the other hypotheticals?" She asks with another tilt of her head. "There were a lot, but I should not dwell on them for now, as it would be too much and like you said this has taken some time, even if necessary. And well, yes, you're right, I was already feeling like I should apologize, she already saved Aelwyn's life several times over."

Schara turns to the door, and steps in side. "Your help is appreciated Warrick, I would appreciate it."

Warrick gives a light bow of his head. "And for that, I have utmost faith in your justice," he intones as Schara steps past him. "I think your family would be proud of what you've accomplished so far."

He weighs his words. "The other hypotheticals depend on what you think they are. Something we can discuss over drinks when you get back."

And then, a pained, knowing sigh. "Of course. I hate getting hurt on the back, can't ever reach it. We'll get you patch up and back out there in no time."

He closes the shop door.

-End scene-