Derren Krenshaw

On Winding Roads (Lillian & Derren )

Alexi could proudly admit that he fared far better applying the salve than he had trying to bathe. He could admit that proudly, to himself, in the safety of his own tent, sure that Katherine was nowhere near to witness. It was okay to be proud like that. In was pride of vanity that led to destruction, the desire to flaunt that led one to be consumed by demons in the end. Quiet, self-congratulatory pride, in small doses, was a good thing. Also, the feat wasn't exactly one to flaunt...

Alexi opted to leave that part out of his prayers, as he took a moment after applying the salve to than God for the day. It had been rough, terrifying and taxing, but he and Katherine were alive. That was a blessing, and there was hope things would go smoothly from now on. Another reason to give thanks, he offered it freely.

It was just as he was finishing his prayer that Katherine's summons echoed in from outside, stirring the scribe to action once more. Offering a hasty shout of understanding, he set about fully clothing himself once more, wincing away from the patches of still-damp cloth as they brushed against his skin. Uncomfortable, though small discomforts were becoming the norm, it seemed. At least after they reached Avantshire he could rest at an Inn for a night or two, enjoy a bed, sturdy walls and a fireplace. Had it not even been a day since they left? He missed the city so much already... Oh! Right!

"Right there! Sorry- sorry..." Crawling out of his tent, Alexi was immediately reminded of his hunger- courtesy of his stomach. What did she have? Stew or... sausage? Did he smell sausage? Part of him wondered if Katherine's apparent friendship with the proprietor of the Locust had lent her similar skills with food. Though a lowly campfire in a forest clearing was far removed from any kind of 'kitchen'.

"Thank you, for the salve... and the food." He did manage to bring the salve with him on the first try, holding it out for her while his gaze fell over the food simmering away in it's pot. "Oh that looks excellent! Let me just get our- wait..."

Excitement faded in a moment, as a sudden thought struck Alexi. His mind raced, pulling inventory on what he had brought. Such a little thing, he hadn't thought of it before, but...

"Do we need plates? Or... ah... do we have plates?"

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Souma found himself drawn closer by her words, caught himself from leaning into her hand as she brushed it over his face. Know the answer well, did he? Galina certainly seemed ready to convince him of that, in her own way. Something glinted in the back of his eye, the joy of one who has found a game they could truly enjoy, whether they should or not.

Who would he be, to back down now?

"How could she, I wonder..." He reached out with one hand, choosing not to trace the features of her face, but rather to move towards her dark tresses. His hand brushed gently passed her ear, grin widening on his lips as he tilted his head in question. "You make it seem, such questions should be-"

"Boss!"

Souma's gaze snapped over to the sound of Daisuke's voice, the shadow of the Fists' back visible at the edge of the screen. Grin withering away, he began to lean back, hand returning to rest on his edge of the table. "What, Daisu-"

"English, brother?" Souma's eyes widened at the soft, lilting voice that cut him off, a second shadow moving slowly to pass Daisuke's own. The words were light, playful, as Ai's little jests and jabs always were. But his features continued to fall, muscle tensing along arm, chest and leg alike. His gaze shifted briefly, flashing hasty warning to Galina in the last instants before his elder sister entered the room.

"Practicing for your trip, are you- YOU!"

Souma was halfway towards standing by the time Ai noticed Galina in the room, hand reaching for the first thing it could find as his sister's dove into the sleeves of her light-blue kimono. Chopsticks were closer than his plate, slightly, and would have to do. Poorly suited for anything other than eating, they nevertheless made for a suitable distraction. One quick flick of his arm sent a single carved utensil to bounce harmlessly off Ai's hand, withdrawing with a gleaming spike in it's grasp. It halted her own movement, glare snapping from the Russian spy to Souma himself. Her hand did not let go of the spike.

"Sister, hold a momen-"

"Explain!" English... not good. Daisuke was around the corner now, watching and ready- though in the end unable to do much. He was Souma's Fist, but Ai was now the Takahiro head. A fist could not be raised against her, even in protection of the one who wielded in. In this case, here, Souma had to fend for himself.

"Will-" Slowly, Souma sank back to sit. He shot a single, wary glance towards Galina before turning back to Ai, who had yet to move. He shifted where he sat, moving down the table slightly, angling himself to keep both women in view, gesturing towards Galina before he spoke. "Offers help against Americans-"

"Why. Would. She. Do. That."

He paused a moment, then sighed. No helping it.

"Same reason I'm leaving."

There, finally, Ai moved. Her eyes did first, widening ever-so-slightly, before her hand quietly slipped the metal spike back within the sleeves of her gown. She stood there a moment longer, regarding them both with an unwavering frown. In the end, however, she walked towards them, seating herself deliberately beside Souma, though her eyes were not directed towards him.

"...Galina, Demidova." She spoke the name slowly, drawing out each syllable, so that no part of it was lost beneath her accented English. Frown remaining ever in place, her eyes grew downcast, as if recalling something she would rather leave forgotten. "That, is your name, yes? Your... actual, name?"

The Last Kings of Orion

She... accepted it?

A single, tense moment at the first words she spoke, drawn out interminably in the silence that followed. Her small smile was unreadable to his eyes, the niggling concern growing within the back of his mind... until that small breath of a laugh.

It was small, but to Antoine it signaled a welcome change. Ms. Weber seemed... softer now, calmer, back to how she had been moments before asking that question. He felt his own worries fading in light of the change, draining swiftly away as her reaction wrought them suddenly absurd. There was no reason to feel guilty about being a cryo-tech, not around her, that was obvious enough now... He couldn't help but chuckle himself at the thought.

A chuckle that heralded the return of his wide, friendly grin in the wake of her next questions. It was something he had no worries talking about at all.

"How many? That's... A surprisingly hard question to answer." The hand that had been running fingers behind his ear changed to tap them upon his temple now. As if the motion helped further settle the piled thoughts of his mind, he repeated the action as he pondered how to best respond.

"I was fluent in... four I think, by the time I ended up in the mountain, and knew a smattering of words from this or that language I came across during my service. That was all my 'knack', but after I joined the medical division in the mountain... well..." Another series of taps on the temple, to make sure things stayed settled, and then that hand moved to point at the back of his head. "I volunteered for a surgery focused on enhancing the parts of my brain tied to perception, language acquisition, memory... it made my 'knack' better, to be brief."

He chuckled at his own words, not sure how well-versed Ms. Weber was in the subject of neurosurgery or the experiments preformed to enhance an individual's skill in one mental proficiency or another. Probably best not to take the time and risk losing her... besides, that wasn't the fun part.

"After that, well, I kinda went around chatting up everyone I could meet, learning what languages I could come across... Did you ever happen to meet a Diego Beltran? Brilliant linguist, that one, knew more languages than I did at first, though I 'might' have pulled ahead now. He was at what... twelve? Fifteen? Somewhere around there... Oh!"

Woops, a slight touch of color graced Antoine's cheeks as he caught himself rambling on anyways, a quick shake of his head bringing his thoughts back in line. His grin shrank to a more modest, bashful smile, offering a shrug as he had no real excuse.

"Sorry, got carried away. I'm probably fluent in twelve-to-sixteen languages by now, it's just hard to think back and try to count them. Navajo was one of the later ones I learned, so I suppose you could still say you don't know anyone who speaks it as their second or third language, couldn't you?"

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Souma paused, eyes widening in the wake of Galina's words. He rocked back at the table, chopsticks falling limp in his hand. It was a moment of surprise, then he recovered... and began to laugh.

Nothing quiet, no restrained mirth or threatening chuckle. No, what bubbled up through Souma's widening lips was heavy, rich laughter that rose from his belly. It was the kind that refused to stop once it began, echoing in deep melody throughout the room until his sides hurt and tears blurred his sight.

How long had it been since he'd laughed like that? Not since childhood, it had to be. There had been so much to do, even then, but at least there had also been time to laugh. He and Ai had always tried to recapture those moments later on, always tried to find that same, relaxed peace, with no luck. Too much work, too many risks, and then they were a world apart, each wrapped up in their own respective tasks.

Souma had certainly enjoyed his work, as Ai had hers, and their conversations had always been a welcome break from the world. But this? Now, between him and Galina? This went beyond any of those conversations, beyond all the little joys and distractions, reaching all the way back to those simple times of youth. This was wonderful, this was refreshing.

This was something, he could learn to love.

"That is hard choice. Either would... be a challenge."

His grin was wide, genuine, and said nothing more in answer, Souma leaning forward in mimicry of Galina's own actions.

"But, who here tempts who? Lowly ruffian of... what was? Deliciously filthy alleys? Or noblewoman with silver tongue?"

On Winding Roads (Lillian & Derren )

"O- All right then," Alexi paused at the stream of orders Katherine rattled his way, but composed himself quickly. He had put the task of finding camp in her hands, no reason to balk as she lived up to the request. Slowly, stiffly, he dismounted his own horse, leading it to a nearby tree that seemed fitting. The knot he tied to secure the leash seemed sturdy enough, and there was grass a plenty for the horse to graze upon.

All told, this was a perfect place to camp, wasn't it?

Alexi's measure of Katherine's abilities continued to climb steadily upwards. She did carry some prestigious chits on hand, didn't she? Someone with such knowledge as she seemed to hold, with a strong reputation, she could afford better jobs, couldn't she? Not that he wasn't paying well, but escorting a freelance scribe loosely tied to the church was not the job most jumped at... as evidenced by the number of times he had been turned down before.

A question to ask later, perhaps? Their conversation earlier, before the ambush had spoiled things, had gone well enough. Maybe over dinner, or during their next day of travel. For now, though, she had mentioned bathing, and that was something he definitely, desperately needed.

He made his way to the trickling stream, a tender test with a hand sending a shiver up his arm at the temperature. Cold- well it wasn't deep enough to really sit in, anyways. Shrugging at the thought -an action he found himself regretting- he set about cleaning at least some of the day from his body.

It certainly wasn't something he was used to doing, though the simple actions of washing his hands, face and hair was easy enough. Finding a dry spot of bare rock to leave his shirt for the moment, Alexi attempted to clean his back and chest... and hoped Katherine was too busy setting camp to witness his actions. Less than clean, his attempts left him shivering as he finally stomped back over to his shirt, spotted from head-to-toe with water but not really 'cleaned'. How was he supposed to do that anyway? Without flopping about in the frigid water like some overlarge fish, how was he supposed to 'wash' anything? Just stand there and continue to splash water at himself like a fool? O- Or...

...Or... He could have dampened a cloth, used that. That would have worked quite well, wouldn't it? Yes, yes it would.

Pity he hadn't thought of that...

Having wasted enough time in the waning light, the defeated scribe chose to let Katherine have the chance to clean herself up before it became too dark to do so. He tossed his shirt back on, it's warmth helping somewhat in the wake of his- what was that?

Pausing as he turned to find Katherine, Alexi peered out towards the thickening woods on the other side of the river. It was certainly growing darker, as if night was growing out from under the thickest boughs of the forest before it took to the sky. And yet, amidst the deepening shadows, he could see... lights?

Small, green? Flickering like candleflames, how... odd? Certainly not something he would expect to see, what was it, that made lights like- huh?

Taking a step back towards the stream, Alexi found himself pausing as the dancing lights simply... vanished. Gone in a blink, nothing but darkness left behind for his eyes to search in vain. Odd, odd... was it a trick of the cold water? Maybe the setting sun reflecting off something? He made his way back to the clearing proper- resembling quite the camp now- the sight still refusing to leave his mind.

"If you wanted to wash up, the water's... cold." Another shiver made its way down his back as he found Katherine at work. The tents were already up and standing firm -he'd really taken a while, hadn't he? "I suppose I'll start putting on that salve an- yeah."

Another shrug -another mistake- and the water-dappled, chilled scribe made his way into his tent. He certainly remembered buying the thick, water-shedding cloth and stakes that had been so well set-up, and indeed there was salve waiting just inside.

"Well, let's do a better job this time..." Shedding his clothes within the shelter of his tent, Alexi set about to applying the salve on his travel-worn legs and backside. "And... maybe see if Katherine knows anything about dancing green lights."

Iron Stripes [A sci-fi RP of mechanized warfare]

Oh! Oh oh! Pick me! I'm interested!

Gotta love sci fi... and tanks...

The Last Kings of Orion

Oh, maybe that was a mistake.

Antoine had meant to entertain Ms. Weber with his little speech, and indeed it seemed he had succeeded. Her laughter was a set of chiming bells tolling the hour of merriment, and he was quite glad indeed to set them ringing. It certainly seemed she was over her initial embarrassment and nervousness, which was only a good thing. And he was rather enjoying their conversation so far as well.

Someone who tumbled back into your room without warning tended to leave an impression... And Ms. Weber was the kind of lady to leave an impression even without the help.

But. Leading the conversation towards his current position aboard the Copernicus was not something he had wanted to do. Maybe it was a bad thing to try and avoid topics you knew might cause problems. Maybe it was only making things worse to try and hide something like that from a woman who had gone through the things she had. But... well... his concern really wasn't based on right and wrong. What he should do, what he shouldn't do, what would make things better or make things worse. Knowing the answers to those didn't change the reluctance, the pause that kept him from grinning as wide as he should.

And it seemed she had caught on -or maybe noticed from before- her gaze growing harder and locking onto him with no hope of letting go. He next request worked to force a nervous chuckle from Antoine's lips, something he forced down with all the will he could muster.

A hand did raise itself, nevertheless, running a pair of fingers up to rub behind his ear. The motion was... soothing, actually, helping the trapped cryo-tech regain the composure he needed to respond. He continued the motion, holding on to the sensation as he spoke.

"Well I can knock down two birds with one stone, there." His smile didn't fade, it would take far more to do that. He wasn't guilty of anything, himself, nothing major, nothing connected to her. It was only the concern of how his profession was connected to her pain. "My knack at languages is one reason I was offered to serve as a medical technician in charge of managing the cryo-beds..."

He rubbed those fingers behind his ear again, eyes remaining fixed on hers, as he waited to see how she would react to his words.

"...And that's where I heard your name. The techs of the second shift were tight-lipped, but enough slipped out to spread rumors of what had happened... and to whom."

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Souma couldn't help but chuckle as Galina brought up the cowardly broker, recalling the conversation he had had with the man shortly after the attack on his clan.

It had not been a pleasant meeting for anyone involved. Too soon after the coals had cooled, Souma barely had the patience at the time to keep Soshitsu alive, much less browbeat him into acquiescence. The broker had held no connection to the ones who had burned the Takahiro compound, but his part in Galina's now-defunct plan to 'shame' Souma had been damning enough. No it had been a brief, angry conversation, with very little said on Soshitsu's part and little satisfaction wrought from it all.

Yet he could look back on it was some amusement, now. Recalling the broker's sweating, terrified visage, and how similar it might have looked to the one Galina witnessed. She had likely dealt with him in a better fashion, certainly one to use charm and grace to mask her threats. Souma had been more... direct, but the results had been the same for both. That alone was enough to respect her abilities as a peer in the same field... if everything before hadn't already helped with that.

He took a moment of his own, to savor his share of eel and pour another cup of sake to sip with his food. This was nice, strangely. A quiet meal speaking business with a peer, it was almost like his days used to be. Before he left Japan, heaving dinner with Ai and Raigo, discussing all that had been done that day, and what needed to be done the next. And after, when he was on his own, the meals he had held with Daisuke and Goemon, having those very same talks...

Of course, he couldn't sit down to either of those meals again. The empty seats at each would kill any conversation before it could start.

He choked back the thought, choosing to sample some of the ramen Galina seemed keen to devour. He spoke after a pair of quick, slurping bites, falling back into the strange enjoyment of this meeting.

"You're correct. American mercenaries, well-trained, good resources." He nodded along with the words, knowing his quarry had been the task that had gotten him through each day until now. It was a very familiar topic. "Agents in America are working. Know what to look for, will have information when we arrive."

He paused a moment, pondering his plans with Galina's involvement, before speaking up once more.

"Blades, guns, gear needed, money not." A toothy grin slowly grew across Souma's lips, the thought of being able to lose himself in some of the 'old' work of his clan. "Money never important for us. Plenty to find for cheap, for free, if you look around."

The Last Kings of Orion

Well she was certainly recovering well from her unexpected tumble, it seemed concern at her physical well-being had been unnecessary. Though it seemed she hadn't quite gotten over the embarrassment of the whole thing. A sudden widening of her eyes brought curiosity crossing Antoine's own features, though he certainly didn't attempt to pry. Perhaps she was simply one who thought and felt as much with gesture and look as with mind- it certainly wasn't a rare occurrence. 'Hands-on' learners did that the most, didn't they?

Antoine pondered the thought absently, his own grin remaining wide as ever as he quietly noted the series of motions, looks and facial changes that marked her as finally having collected herself. And indeed, her next words were spoken stronger and more surely than before, as she introduced herself...

Oh...

Antoine's own eyes widened at her name, his wide smile falling to a gape of surprised recognition for a moment, before he wrested control of himself once more. Of all the people who could possibly come tumbling through his doorway, Pauline Weber?

It explained why he didn't recognizer her from the shift meeting -though he certainly didn't remember every last person who was there... just the ones with bouncing curly hair or ranking authority. And despite all of the cryo-techs knowing full well how her name was connected to the now-verified rumors of the last shift, she hadn't exactly been one they'd sought out to meet in-person.

Guilt-by-association, or something similar. None of the third-shift techs had any reason to feel ashamed around her. Yet, between the rumors, second-hand-tales and noticeably-tighter security, even Antoine felt a moment of hesitation at her name.

But he couldn't let that control him, what kind of tech, what kind of medic would he be, then? No, his smile returned as sure as ever, though he didn't laugh despite her invitation, opting to shake his head and raise a hand in polite denial. That felt oddly liberating, actually, as if pleading innocent to some preposterous charge. He lowered his hand only to raise it again, feeling better and more control by the moment.

"He fit an english folktale more than a trickster god when I named him, guess he deceived me there." Antoine knelt where he had been standing, dropping down to eye level with Ms. Weber as he followed her gaze to his... Charge fit with 'designated and privileged keeper', right? "And no, he doesn't like being picked up in the least. Coyote might actually fit, cat or canine, I hear he was quite the capricious god, himself. In fact..."

Raising his hand once more, before realizing it wouldn't quite fit with his next words, Antoine leaned forwards, hoping to catch Mowzer's attention as he spoke again.

"Yá'át'ééh!" The words rolled off his tongue and around his teeth with barely a trip or stutter. "Shí 'éí Syi Antoine yinishyé. 'Ádóne'é nishłínígíí 'éí Bellamy Dine'é nishłį Eadoré ’éí bá shíshcíín. Bilagáana ’éí dinééh nishłí. Áłtsé hashké yinishly?"

Antoine paused after he spoke, eyeing Mowzer expectantly... to no avail. The bengal continued to sit and groom, finally looking up only to pass his gaze from Antoine to Ms. Weber, offer them a loud, disapproving meow, then return to his bathing ritual.

"Well then," He did chuckle then, looking back to Ms. Weber before him. "I guess he's not Coyote after all."

(( Translation (roughly) = 'Greetings! My name is Antoine, I am Bellamy born for Eadoré, and in this way I am a white man. Is your name Coyote?' ))

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Souma remained silent as Galina spoke.

She had sought him out, had returned to Japan for at least that one specific reason. Had the attack on his family not happened, had he not heard her candid admissions that night when they tried to kill each other, Daisuke would have never let her through the door.

But everything that night had happened. Every last moment, every little detail. Galina Demidova was no longer someone Souma Takahiro could see as a rival, adversary or annoyance. He wasn't sure, entirely, what to see her as. But at the very least, she was worth his full attention.

So he didn't speak, didn't interrupt, gaze watching her own features with steady interest, chopsticks laying across his plate. He nodded in unneeded allowance as she poured herself a cup of sake, his own features growing a shade darker as she recounted the devastation that had struck her own home. More than him or his clan, Galina and hers had been a target as well.

It fit together with much of what Souma had learned, shameful and humiliating as the knowledge was. Everything he had accomplished since leaving Japan could not possibly balance out what he had brought down upon his family. For it had been his fault -and Galina's as well- their first encounter making an enemy with the patience to stay hidden until the last moment... and the resources to make that last moment count.

But failure was only complete if there was no chance of retaliation. The fact that both he and Galina had survived, and that their opponents likely did not know it, was a fatal mistake he was certain to exploit.

He remained quiet for a moment after she finished, reaching out to retrieve the sake for himself. Refilling his cup, he eyed the swirling steam for a moment longer, before downing the contents in a single go.

"Four days." He said finally, picking up his chopsticks as he met Galina's eyes once more. "We eat, rest, prepare. Boat leaves in four days...

...Then we hunt."