abraxaslogs | 01 - ARRIVING SOMEWHERE BUT NOT HERE

Once Kylo has paced the entirety of the castle, he turns his insatiable curiosity to the study of its purpose— and, indeed, the purpose he is intended to fulfil here. He doubts he and his fellow arrivals were summoned here for nothing, after all.

He takes advantage of the opportunity afforded by the junior mages practicing in the study hall, observing them closely, and proves himself a quick study. It isn't, perhaps, anywhere near as impressive as his own ability to manipulate and use the Force— but with his own power muted, he finds it strangely satisfying to learn this elemental magic.

Predictably, Kylo finds Fire magic to be the easiest to grasp. Later, in the library, he can be found surrounded by a wide array of books, making notes in a quick, surprisingly neat hand for such a hulk of a man. Should he be practicing repeatedly coaxing a flame to life in his palm and curling his fingers to extinguish it in a library? Probably not, but it seems to aid his thinking. Or soothe his frustration.

Too long spent reading irrelevant nonsense about heroic quests to drive demons from the land and the like will have Kylo scoring his notes through with a furious scratch of his pen.

"Can I help you?" he asks tightly. The scowl on his face as he looks up from his work suggests he very much doubts it.

Does Belle happen to notice the man who'd dare to create a flame in a library? Of course she does, but she assumes anyone who might experiment with magic that way must have achieved a high level of control in his home world. She'd leave him to his research (and his flame) if not for the fact that he's currently in possession of a book she's been eager to get her hands on.

The look on his face as she approaches is enough for her to understand that he would prefer not to be bothered. But she figures there's no harm in asking. She's known grumpier men, and being an annoyance is nothing new to her.

And as she usually does when approaching someone who she isn't annoyed by, she greets him with a friendly look and the hint of a smile. "I was hoping that you might pass that book on to me when you're finished with it. I've been doing some research here, too."

She pauses, letting that statement settle for a moment. "If you'd ever like to compare notes, I have some of my own."

Kylo is not exactly accustomed to friendly smiles or in the habit of returning them— but the truth is, it's been a very long time since anyone was interested in studying with him. He's wary, which is obvious, but he doesn't dismiss the offer out of hand, taking a moment to check the book she's asking for before sliding it over towards her.

It's a history. Volume six of a series, to be precise, and while it's almost certainly taking liberties with the truth for a more compelling story, Kylo prefers it to some of the drier texts he's been poring over.

"I've been reading about our esteemed hosts," he offers. "It seems the general population is as tolerant of failure as the High Mage who brought us here."

The pages Kylo's been studying describe the violent uprising against the previous royal family in particularly lurid detail.

It's more than she expects, both the book and the information given. She takes it and nods gratefully, setting it on top of the book she's already been working through. Though he doesn't exactly invite her to collaborate, she might take his answer as an agreement of sorts. In any case, she quietly claims a seat at his table and listens eagerly to what he's been working on so far.

"They also have a history of being wary when it comes to outsiders. I was reading about how rare it is for the kingdom to offer citizenship to anyone who wasn't born here." It's something that she's been trying to make sense of, because all of them were summoned here against their will. Why go to such extreme lengths to get them here if they won't trust them anyway?

"Does it mention how they've responded to their failures in the past?" She may not want to know the answer, but considering the label that half of them arrived with, she'd like to know what they're up against.

"Executions," Kylo informs her. Cheerful definitely isn't quite the word, but he doesn't seem particularly bothered by the idea of a frenzied mob venting their frustrations by disposing of their royals.

"Apparently Thorne once held all known lands on this planet. When its leadership failed to crush separatist rebellion, the people called for blood. And had it."

He taps his finger to the relevant passage on the page.

"Perhaps our hosts are hoping summoning warriors from other worlds can strengthen a weakened position and save them from the same fate."

She couldn't help herself. Books were precious, they were stories and lives and anything that could potentially harm that... well, it hurt her. Which is one reason why the Library of the Neitherlands had very strict rules about magic use within it -- nothing that could harm the books. No magic.

So when she sees him practicing conjuring a flame in his hand, surrounded by books? Oh, it worries her, and though she approaches him she hesitates for a moment on interrupting him. It's not her library but--

Well, he beats her to it, noticing her hovering before she can speak. "Not near the books." And with a small gesture to his hand-- "Your magic. It could damage them."

Kylo doesn't respond immediately— though he does let his fingers curl, slowly, smothering the infant flame in his palm. It's probably what he was about to do anyway, but he holds her gaze steady in a particularly challenging fashion.

"If I wanted to damage them, this entire library would be ablaze," he informs her coolly.

Towers, some Thornean observer would probably comment with a heavy roll of their eyes.

"Not from this spell."

At least, from her understanding, not without some modification -- either to the spell or to power and she doubted that so new in this place anyone had accumulated that level of power. Considering that Zelda had previously burned an incredibly large library... she knew exactly what power that took.

"And even so, careless and uncontrolled magic can be more dangerous than someone who truly intends to cause harm."

Just saying.

"Any other wisdom you care to share with me today?" Kylo asks flatly, his dark eyes holding steady on her face. He is not, it seems, hugely impressed with the lecture.

"Perhaps something I've never heard before, along the lines of fire having the potential to burn or water being wet."

"It isn't the fire, it's the magic."

And despite his rudeness she hasn't so phased by it -- he's hardly the first petulant child that she's come across and she isn't put off by rude attitudes. She's a librarian, a magician, she knows what she's talking about.

"Whether or not you're proficient accidents can occur from alterations to the circumstances. And it would be a shame for something to be lost for something preventable."

Let her protect the books. Do magic, she'll applaud that, just not over the books.

"Everything causes alterations to the circumstances," Kylo points out irritably. Who exactly does this woman think she is, to have decided herself his superior? His supervisor? She knows absolutely nothing about him or his abilities, and she certainly hasn't been placed in a position of authority over him to his knowledge at least. His lips twist.

"If you're so concerned by my presence perhaps you should warn our hosts of their mistake. Allowing me here, granting me all the same courtesies, freedoms and privileges afforded to you."

"That wasn't my insinuation."

And actually very far from anything that she'd said. It was his use of magic that she cautioned, the location of it rather than the spell itself. All she cared about here were the books.

"All I'm asking is for you not to perform magic, particularly fire, near a book. A simple consideration, considering what it can do."

The crowd makes it difficult to see what's happening, at first— though a nudge to one of the gathered Thorneans will earn anyone a hushed explanation: one of the summoned newcomers challenged a local swordsmith to a duel to win his sword as a prize, and if you'd care to make a wager...

In the centre of the ring of spectators is Kylo Ren. Broad and black-clad, he takes his time testing the weight of the weapon in his hand, twisting his wrist to send the blade sailing in a smooth, effortlessly fluid loop— and then advances. Across from him, his opponent sets his jaw, curls his fingers and slips into a smooth defensive stance, all the earlier amusement drained from his ruddy face.

The clash is dramatic. Both men know how to use a sword, and it appears they both enjoy a little spectacle, too. The swordsmith is stronger than first apparent, forcing Kylo to pour more and more effort into driving him back with heavy, double-handed strikes— but after one last blow that has him dropping to a knee, the swordsmith yields with a bark of laughter.

"A fine blade," Kylo tells him. His shoulders are still heaving with the recent exertion as he turns his back and addresses the crowd. "I'll take it. Unless anyone here objects."

Sam makes it just far enough into the crowd to catch the end of the sparring match. He's been down into this area of town only a couple of times since arriving, but he's enjoyed the easy thrum of normal life around him. Of the Thorneans going about their day. The crowd gathering is new, but it's not so out of place that Sam's guard comes up - instead, he edges his way close enough inside the circle to see the clash of swords, the dramatic back and forth.

It ends soon after Sam settles in the crowd, but even after only a few seconds of watching, he can tell that both men are well-skilled. It's not until the spar is over, though, that Sam catches something about the tall, dark haired one - whether it be the Tower symbol on his clothes, or a kind of half-remembered flash of seeing him around the castle. He recognizes him as one of the honored guests, and soon after the spar is over and none of the spectators speak up against him with regards to taking the blade, the crowd soon starts to disperse.

Sam waits for the larger portion of the audience to scatter before he moves to approach the other, eyeing the blade for just a moment or so before turning to his face. He gives a friendly enough smile. "You're not too bad with that." A beat, and then he follows it up with- "Name's Sam. Pretty sure we've passed each other at the castle."

Kylo is still openly admiring the fine balance and craftsmanship of the sword when Sam approaches, weighing it appraisingly in an easy swordsman's grip— though he looks up when addressed. He doesn't match Sam's smile, exactly, but it's possible that's just because his face doesn't naturally pull that way. His eyes are dark and curious as he looks Sam over, a little too obviously appraising him much like he had the weapon he just won.

Something about the tension holding Kylo's overlarge frame together suggests a kind of ongoing compensation, like he's trying to perform a role he's unaccustomed to or communicate in a language he isn't fluent in— which he is, in a way. With his connection to the Force so heavily muted, Kylo has no choice but to rely on his purely physical senses, operating entirely from within the confines of his own body.

"We have," Kylo confirms. Then, after a beat as he remembers that on this planet at least, an introduction is necessary: "Kylo Ren."

Now what, exactly, is he supposed to do with this sword? The non-retractable blade is a lot more cumbersome than the convenience of a lightsaber, which he probably should have realised before being faced with the reality of carrying one. He glances briefly in the direction his opponent took after their sparring match, then back to the weapon in his hand.

"Perhaps I should challenge him again for the scabbard."

Sam notes the ease at which Kylo holds the weapon, the way he looks it over with a practiced eye. It's the sign of someone who knows his way around a weapon, beyond just the ability to wield it. Part of Sam wonders if, maybe, he needs to start taking up lessons - he doesn't see himself stumbling across any weapons he's used to in the markets of the Thorne estate - but that's beyond the point. For now, he watches Kylo, catches the way he doesn't quite smile, though he doesn't sense a distaste in his look either. If anything, the neutral expression he can work with.

But there is that tension, a physicality to the other man that is...curious. In a way. Sam wonders what it is that he's over-compensating for, or if that's simply the way he holds himself.

"Or-" Sam mentions, his brows lifting. "You could just buy one from one of the stalls. I doubt he'll want a rematch after that." There is a hint of something both appraising, and teasing, in his words. Like he is both complimenting Kylo for a match well played, and poking fun at his suggestion that it would be a good idea to beat the blacksmith a second time, just for a scabbard.

"I saw a pretty decent one down the way." He gestures back to the main road of the market, and while Sam might not be an expert on swords and scabbards and medieval fantasy skillsets, he has eyes for good craftsmanship and hard-working people. "I can show you, if you want."

"And what would you like me to pay with?" Kylo asks, a slight quirk tugging at his lips.

Admittedly, he's never had much use for currency even before being brought here— generally, people tend to just do what he tells them to, up to and including the... donation of certain assets— but without money or reputation, challenging the swordsmith for a prize had seemed a perfectly reasonable course of action.

"Well, for one-" But then Sam cuts himself off from his answer, because Kylo brings up a very solid point. He doesn't recall there being mention of money, or currency, or anything thy would have to deal with this sort of thing - or if there had, he hadn't been around to see it. "Okay, fair point." Because Sam does catch the very slight quirk, which he takes as a good sign, at least for this conversation.

"But you kind of kicked his ass. Do you really think he's going to want you to do it again in front of everyone just to lose a scabbard too?" The truth of it is that Sam can see why anyone, or Kylo specifically, would challenge for the sword itself. It's just another challenge so soon after seems just a bit like overkill, especially when they're trying to be good guests.

"Honestly, you might be able to just walk up to him and ask him for it."

Kylo considers this thoughtfully. The swordsmith, while soundly defeated, had departed in a reasonably warm mood, more amused than genuinely irritated by his loss— and perhaps a request for further favour would be received with similar amicability.

"It's possible," he concedes. "I did notice several of the crowd following him. Perhaps our demonstration earned him some business."

Which he supposes might suffice as a form of payment, actually. Hm.

"Are you looking for a blade?"

Sam nods along with Kylo's observation, his attention shifting over to the blacksmith - swordsmith? - and the others who had followed him to his shop. The truth of it is that Sam is more focused on the relationship between the new guests and the townsfolk than anything, but if this is working, it's working.

"More business or at least free advertising. It's worth a try. And if he doesn't feel like being generous, then you've got a fallback plan."

He shrugs, content enough with the options here. Plus, he'll stick around to see how it goes. If he needs to step in, he will, but he's feeling good about this.

At Kylo's question, Sam looks over to him then shakes his head, probably a tad too emphatically. "Nah, man, I'm not a sword guy. Wouldn't know what to do with one if I had one. But you're pretty handy with that thing. You fight with one back home?"

After a long hard day of making the day much harder than it needs to be, Kylo Ren makes his way to the baths. While the setup here in Thorne is generally far more primitive than the technological marvels Kylo's accustomed to having access to, the magically replenishing pools available to him here are far more welcoming than the sanisteam freshers the First Order provides.

His sword, thankfully, he leaves guarding his bed in Room #2. The rest of his clothes he deposits in a pile on the stone countertop, swapping them for an armful of soaps and lotions in fancy vials. Time to discover which of these works up into the best lather for soothing the rather impressive bruise blooming over his ribs, and which is most likely to give his dark hair the most luxurious volume and shine.

And while there are plenty of bathing pools to go around, anyone else hoping for a soak in the luxury of the largest will find Kylo there, submerged to his chin and drifting in a state of unexpected bliss, his eyes half-lidded shut. He might not be too pleased to be disturbed.

There is someone else who's come to use the baths, and he's come at this unlikely hour because most of the bath houses in his world wouldn't let him in at this point. At least, the ones that aren't yakuza-owned, and those aren't much of an option nowadays.

There's a bit of confusion, given the difference in bathing ettiquette from what he's familiar with- the idea of bringing the soap and lotions and things into the bath with him is very odd. As is the idea that he shouldn't share the bath with another person, to conserve the warm water. That's why, not far from Kylo, there's some short discussion with one of the servants (a girl he'd assisted earlier this week with some heavy lifting so the conversation is at least polite from both ends) before he settles into one of the baths near Kylo.

The stranger has one rather distinctive feature, other than being almost entirely made of muscle: a massive tattoo all over his back, showing a great gray beast with golden talons and red accents.

He will, at least, nod to Kylo. But otherwise, will try to give him his peace.

As spectacular as the stranger's tattoo might be to someone less used to interacting with sentient beings of varying configurations, Kylo isn't particularly interested in examining it or its owner— that is, until he's close enough that Kylo recognises him.

They haven't spoken, but Kylo's seen him about the castle in a tunic embroidered with a sigil matching his own and wondered, idly, what traits they might share beyond a fondness for a workout. Now?

"The Tower," he offers in curious greeting. "They assigned it to you, too."

Kiryu wasn't expecting to be spoken to, but he can certainly be polite. That's been his general modus operandai since he came here, given all he is very aware he doesn't know: be respectful, but do what he feels is right.

He's seen the other man around as well, and yes, he's noticed the same symbol on his tunic as he has on his own. He hadn't been curious before, but after the talk with Jon, he's a lot more curious what forms the Tower might present itself.

"They did. From what I was told, it seems fitting. And somewhat surprising."

Mostly that he wasn't in the cells with the other 'enemies'.

Edited 2021-06-24 04:48 (UTC)

It's Jon's third time checking out the baths, and yet again, the private rooms are all occupied. Enough is enough. He makes a resigned sound, running a hand through his hair as he stares through the steam, but only one other person in here is about as good as his luck might get. He notes the clothing left on the counter - another 'guest.' That's good, at least.

For a man who doesn't look like he's ever picked up a weapon in his life, he reveals a remarkable number of scars as he undresses. The pockmarks visible on his face and hands are in fact everywhere, and the lines on his back look unpleasantly deliberate and methodical.

Carrying one of the linen towels and a plain bar of black soap, he takes a minute selecting one of the baths by temperature. He shies away from the idea of sharing one, but the hottest pools are the ones over here, so he takes a moment easing into the next unoccupied one.

Edited 2021-06-20 11:44 (UTC)

The baths may not be what he's used to, but he has to admit, it's like some fancy spa without the masseuse. He doesn't really care whether they're communal or not, Lloyd doesn't really have any shame at this point, so he simply strolls through the baths after depositing his clothes, towel slung over his shoulder.

As he slides into the biggest pool, he's whistling a tune to himself and only then realizes that he's not alone. He grins, resting his arms on the edge of the pool, wiggling his fingers in Kylo's direction in greeting.

"Well, hey there."

Edited (pull your head out of your ass, frames, it's not a hat) 2021-06-21 01:20 (UTC)

Of course this would be where the two of them first exchange words. Of course.

Kylo's seen Lloyd in passing a few times at this point. He's heard a little about him, too, and observed him from a reasonable distance across a long dining table— but part of his agreement with Ronan has left him a little out of sync with the rest of the arrivals when it comes to sleep, and so despite being assigned beds in the same room, this is their first actual meeting. Kylo eyes his roommate up slowly.

"Lloyd," he says after an over-long moment. He doesn't wave.

"I've heard so much about you."

Realistically, Kylo's probably heard him quite a bit, he's not a particularly soft-spoken kind of guy, and he kind of thrives being the center of attention. It's a lot different here than being the talk of the town back in Vegas. Being the right-hand man to a guy like Flagg doesn't mean much outside of their own world. Not yet, anyway. All that kind of hinged on the Walking Dude getting his powers back.

Not much of a talker, he can deal with that. Lloyd's never had a problem carrying a conversation on his own.

"That a fact? Don't worry, it can't all be true!" He hasn't even done anything outlandish yet, so maybe it was just Nadine being too sweet for her own good. The grin he offers is easy, and he makes himself comfortable where he is.

"It's Kylo, right?" There are only four of them in the room and he knows Nadine so..

"Kylo Ren. Yes."

His eyes are dark, wary, strangely steady as they lock into place on Lloyd's face. It looks a little like Kylo's attempting to listen to whatever his roommate isn't saying— or perhaps he's just unaware that most people consider it rude to stare. Perhaps he doesn't care.

"You, Nadine and her imprisoned husband are all from the same world. Or so I hear. It must be comforting, being among friends."

Lloyd takes the staring in stride, he's been stared at like he was about to be a meal by someone before, so some intense eye contact is nothing. He just smiles back, warm and friendly.

"Hell yeah it is. Wasn't too sure about how he'd feel toward me at first, but everything between us is back to how it used to be. This place'll take some getting used to, I've gotta tell ya."

01 - ARRIVING SOMEWHERE BUT NOT HERE

>> THE LIBRARY

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>> A CHALLENGE

tags in way way late but. gestures around.

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>> BATH NIGHT

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