riverviewlogs | three, four, the corpse soldier

who: Breq and OPEN
what: Various: Monster dive-bombing, Prijata gifts, Guardwork, and more.
when: June
where: Around the Quarantine.
warnings: M for Monster fighting, probably. Warnings will be added as necessary.

i. TDM prompt: death from above

[By all accounts, it's a normal, bustling day in the Quarantine. Nothing particularly daunting is looming, it's nowhere especially near the walls of the Quarantine, the street is full of pedestrians going about their business.

Maybe it's something about the shadows passing overhead that clues her in. Maybe she just happened to look up at the right time. Maybe the alert from the Perimeter Guard, that the migrating pterodactyl-like birds have been diving in and attempting to attack or carry off people.

Whatever the reason is, the moment one of the creatures gives out a cry and starts to dive, Breq is dashing forward.]

Get down!

[If the hapless person isn't fast enough about that, the tackle that Breq's going for might just do the trick.]

ii. Prijata gifting

[If Breq has talked to your character in any degree of depth since her arrival, there is a good chance she's coming around to see them. To a house, a job, a favored cafe, somewhere convenient and common for them to be found at. It's rude not to present a gift in person, after all.

As she approaches, she takes pains to be sure she's adopted a pleasant smile, and the box in her hands (decorated simply, tied shut with a ribbon) is held neatly in both hands. As soon as she comes into conversational range, she nods in greeting.]

Hello. [She lifts the box slightly.] Sorry to interrupt. Do you have a moment?

iii. Perimeter Guard/Surveyors general

[Now that she's recovered from the injuries that had her in the hospital, Breq has been making herself a regular sight in the Perimeter Guard barracks. She's not living there-- the trip to work may be longer this way but it gives her reasons to know the city-- but from the hours she spends here, the other Perimeter Guards might be forgiven for assuming that she might stay here after all. Whether she's writing up notes from her latest surveying trip, making her way to or from one of the missions, or simply taking the time to train her strength back up, it's easy to find Breq in the barracks.

Right now, she's sitting on a bench in the side of the training areas, her equipment laid out next to her, including a bag and water bottle. She's dressed in preparation for a match in light easy-to-move-in clothing, but although she looks up every so often toward the mats where people are pairing off, it's not the focus of her attention. Rather, her head is bent over the flove in her lap and the thread and needle she's using to deftly patch up a torn seam.]

iv. wildcard

[If there's something else you'd like to do with Breq, from Prijata or just in general, feel free to go for it! Or if you'd like to arrange for me to write up a starter, you can contact me via PM or at

needslineface

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She isn't completely focused away from the sky-- there are more of those birds flocking overhead, perching occasionally on rooftops and watching the people moving around below. She follows Dorian's example, tugging at the hem of her jacket to settle it properly. One hand lingers in a pocket once she's done with it.]

Magic, actually. [So deadpan it might be mistaken for the truth, instead of a joke. Moments later, the silver surrounding her disappears completely again. She gestures to herself as though the shielding was still there.] Personal armor. A Radchaai technology.

If you hadn't accused it of being a flight of fancy our last meeting, I might have been persuaded to believe you.

[He nods.]

Some sort of focused energy, then. Much like magic. You see, the two aren't so dissimilar. In fact, at Graymarye, we developed something similar, a mingling of technology and magic.

[He motions off toward the next corner, and a small cafe.]

Might I buy my ardent rescuer a coffee and get us both away from the sky until the avians decide to move on? I could, of course, set them aflame but think of the mess.

[Breq arches an eyebrow.]

With the distinction that it's activated by an implanted device, and not simply wishing it into being.

[She considers the offer for half a second. On the one hand, theoretically she has places she should be. On the other, if she doesn't rest it for a bit, the slight ache in her hip could develop into something truly bothersome before long. And in their last meeting, Dorian proved to be interesting company, if a bit full of himself.

In the end, she gestures assent.]

Without an easy target they'll move on. [Does that make Dorian an easy target?]

"Simply wishing it into being", as though magic is all whim and will and that's it.

[He shakes his head. He's well aware he's an easy target, being on the ground and not, as it was, in the sky.]

Not all are meant to understand the finer points of magic.

[But he starts off toward the cafe.]

The distinctions are lost on me, considering I can't do it myself.

[Breq makes a little dismissive gesture as she falls in next to him. She's tense until they get under the awnings of the cafe, one hand resting in the pocket of her coat.

Only once they're away from the open sky do her shoulders drop slightly. She takes her hand away from the pocket, gestures instead to the menu boards behind the counter.]

Any recommendations?

It's possible to understand magic without possessing the ability to call it forth yourself. Do you have an understanding of how a fish might breathe? Can you yourself breath under the water in such a manner?

[Someone asking his opinion on a given matter, even if it's a flavor of coffee, is a quick way to Dorian's good side, and he nods slightly, tapping his chin thoughtfully.]

Have you had coffee before?

[He's come to learn that's a question you should actually ask.]

If I said I could?

[But point made, and she has to tilt her head in acknowledgement, before the prospect of selection rears its head. She steps aside to let a few other patrons pass the both of them as she divides her attention between scanning the shop's offerings and answering Dorian.]

On occasion. Tea was more common, but not everyone was so picky about their caffeine.

I can certainly respect their taste, but it's come to my knowledge there are certain things that only mix well with coffee.

[Like Irish Cream Liquor, but that was for a much different sort of meeting.]

Specifically, Earthy flavors like cinnamon, and spices.

Not a bad combination, by my estimation. On the last planet I visited the tea was made with fermented milk. It took an acquired taste.

[She gestures nonchalance, then nods, looking toward the menu.] Your ardent rescuer has made a choice, unless you protest particularly to the dark roast?

[He couldn't help the look of disgust that twists his lips momentarily, and it's with apprehension that he asks.]

...the fermented milk of what beast, precisely? They all have...varying flavors.

[At this point, he's willing to take anything to get his mind off "fermented milk".]

Yes, quite. That will do nicely.

The locals called them Bov. About as tall as we are, heavily furred, herbivores with horns and hooves.

[Does she notice that? Maybe. Is that why she's still talking about it? Also possible.]

It almost tasted sour, the first time I tried it, but it's simply rather pungent.

[She will, however, spare the poor barista she's giving her order to, long enough to be perfectly polite and cordial as she asks for her coffee. With milk, of course.]

...they sound like Druffalo. Are they also docile unless provoked, and possessing of a large, boney plate on the forehead?

[We're discussing the species, Breq. Not this...milk. And Dorian follows suit with the barista, because he's not a barbarian.]

Some may. I was there in spring-- five Celsius-- so they had not yet shed to summer coats. They may be alike enough in function, if not in species.

[Fine, she can acquiesce. For now. Best not to bite the hand that's offering to buy her coffee right now, especially after she tackled him.]

three, four, the corpse soldier

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