hadriel | |||||| first; text

Entry tags:

|||||| first; text

[ This isn't his first rodeo with social media, or he supposes... Something as close to it. Would this be considered social media if it's within a closed network? Noctis supposes it doesn't matter. This is his first shot, this is his means of feeling this place out. ]

I need a wheelchair.

Not for me... It's for a friend. I know there's a clinic, but I'd rather reach out and make sure I'm not signing myself up for the third degree when I try and claim one.

If someone could point me in the right direction of who I need to talk to or whether or not I just take it, let me know.

Ah.

Thanks. To whoever's reading.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tell me what sort of weapons you want? And I'll let you know what materials I need, or if possible I'll scavenge them myself.

He did enjoy talking about you.

[ Amused, partly because he's a father himself and he knows how garrulous parents can be. ]

Well, for starters? I generally stick with swords. Daggers are alright. Not as good as a friend of mine, but I have an ok handle on guns.

And alright, I'll bite.
What did he tell you? If it has anything to do with habits I had before age six, he's lying.

I, too, am a swordsman. I like to have a dagger or two on me, as backup in case I need to stick a sharp instrument through the chinks in my enemy's chain mail. I've handled a gun before, and a rifle. In fact, I've smithed a few of those, so if you want firearms, I can provide you with some.

[ Chuckle. ] Don't worry! -- he was reticent as to your childhood habits. What he did speak of was his pride and faith in you, and his concern. It seems you inherited a war.

Sounds like you're well-prepared. Pretty nice of you to offer the help. I'll look into specifics in terms of what I need.

[ He pauses a moment at the mention of what Regis has shared. While it is impossible to avoid what he's left behind in lieu of being here, it doesn't make it any easier to face. Noctis has inherited a war while having lost so many people already. ]

Ah.
Yeah that's... More or less what happened.

I consider it my responsibility to help out where I can. Good, let me know as soon as you have it down to specifics.

[ Curufin can relate to inheriting a war and then having to leave it behind. ]

Your pardon, I did not mean to pry into your history or family matters. I encouraged him to talk, because his eyes lit up when he spoke of you. He was in physical pain, and it helped distract him.

No, it's cool. I get it.

Keeping it a secret isn't exactly necessary, even if I hadn't intended on bringing it up with anyone. We're worlds away, right? It's just awkward talking about it. Here.

Yes, I see what you mean. This is another world. But the network is not exactly the place for confidential conversations. It is not what I or anybody else would call secure.

Edited 2017-01-18 02:39 (UTC)

Right.

So we should probably stop talking about it. Or alluding to it.

[ Unintentional sass and bad attitude: that's Noctis. Plus he just hates thinking about all of this right now. ]

Aye. We should.

[ Curufin has his own brand of sass and bad attitude, so he will never fault Noctis for his. In fact, he rather likes him for it. ]

Anything else we should talk about? You'll let me know as soon as you've decided on the specs for your weapons? I'm in the City Guard, and you can get in touch with me through the office. Or, at Delight's housing, unit #06.

[ While the subject is not necessarily new to Noctis, talking about it with people outside of his own world is almost more difficult than those within Eos. It's almost harder knowing that his father is here, as if Noctis should be handling it with a bit more confidence to ensure his father left his son with the right tools. ]

Right.

Thanks. I'll be in touch when I figure out what supplies are needed. And uh, thanks.

[ All of which are thoughts and feelings Curufiin could sympathize with. ]

You're welcome! We'll speak again.

Edited 2017-01-21 01:57 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only