01.

[blamesfate]

[Following his encounter with Roy at the Easter event, Kratos has sequested himself in the quietest corner of Mac Ainu's harbour he can find. With one hand, he flicks through each of the menu options on his Relic, attentively studying each one before moving on to the next. Between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand, he rolls a small object back and forth without paying it an apparent mind.

After some time, he lifts his attention from the Relic and stares out in the direction of the ever-present sunset, mouth set in a firm line.]

Hm.

Comments

[blamesfate]

[He seems startled by the voice, and looks up as though coming out of a daze. Once his eyes light on Beatrix and he identifies her as the likely speaker, he dips his head, tone apologetic and words quiet.]

Good evening.

[... A moment later, he corrects himself ruefully.] ... I suppose we have no means of knowing with any certainty what time of day it is.

[blessedrose]

[ her mouth quirks, and she turns to look at the frozen sunset. ] Unfortunately not. A city of twilight, this.

Pardon me for intruding upon your thoughts, but you seem troubled.

[blamesfate]

Indeed. [At her comment regarding his thoughts, he clenches his fingers tightly around the object within them and casts his gaze away once more.] I suppose I am. The circumstances I left behind concern me.

[blessedrose]

I see. [ Although her posture remains open and her expression interested, she won't push him for details - that would be rude. So she returns to the less personal of the subjects for a response. ]

In my own country, there is a place called Treno. We call it the 'Dark City', for the sun never rises there. [ hmm ] Although it might seem disloyal, I find this sunset more pleasant.

[blamesfate]

A city where the sun never rises? [He considers this, then offers.] That sounds similar to a city where I once lived. A false city—filled with lifeless beings. It is called Derris-Kharlan.

[His expression turns rueful.] I must agree with you. This place is more pleasant.

[blessedrose]

Derris-Kharlan... [ she tries out the foreign name. ] Ha, your tale must be a long one. You do not seem lifeless to me.

[blamesfate]

[He seems at a loss to respond to that. When he finally does speak, it is only to say:] ... It is long enough.

[blessedrose]

Hmm. [ ah, that must have been more personal a comment than she meant it to be. ]

Those stories are usually the most interesting... Or so her Majesty oft tells me. [ but she won't pursue it. ]

Well met, in any case. I am Beatrix, late of Alexandria.

[blamesfate]

Kratos. A mercenary. [His response is measured, but he brings himself back.] You seem the type to attend a Queen...

[blessedrose]

Aye. I am General and Commander to her Majesty, Queen Garnet Til Alexandros XVII.

[blamesfate]

[That earns a wry smile.] I was once in service of a Queen myself.

[blessedrose]

I have served two in my time.