Fortune's Unfavored

“Hm…Maybe…” She murmured at the thought. Her penmanship was not horrific, but sketching and the like had always alluded her. Perhaps more never interested her rather than something completely beyond her reach. Yet as the proffered journal was passed to her, sheer shock at the pen marks openly displayed across her countenance. “Whoa! Ringabel, these are really amazin’!” Flipping through the pages—exercising a modicum of care when doing so—each one looked like he had captured their image and placed it in the book with magic rather than by his hand.

“I suppose the only thing I’ve offered to others are my skills in battle and a willingness to help out sometimes. Good favor of the locals goes further than any threats.” That was something she had plucked out from Alphinaud’s blathering. “I might have to learn a few things from that pen of yours and this tome.”

Handing it back to him, her lips twisted in a pout at the idea he would continue his banter even when inebriated or asleep. “Well, if you are asleep, once you’re dragged to your room, I won’t be bothered with it. I won’t be keeping you company all night, even if you begged.” Not that she assumed he would, but the statement still stood.

Though, more than likely depending on his level of drunkenness, she would most likely stay by his side to ensure he would not choke in his sleep.

“As long as I can understand you, I guess either way won’t be bad.” She conceded, still grateful his vocabulary had been simplified for her in the most part. Yet, the mirth seemed to grow stale as their subject moved along.

Instead, a somber realization overcame her. “So, you pass in a world and people can die? That…That ain’t right.” The power the Exarch had used was nothing like that and her gaze instantly flitted towards the window to peer upon the large tower. “He’d never let somethin’ like that happen, so he worked hard to make sure it could work before tryin’ to call us over. Even if it took all the strength he had.” Perhaps for the first time, it seemed as if the Exarch was someone she revered as well.

It was only expounded when her attention shot back towards Ringabel, gaze edging on dangerous. “There won’t ever be a time like that.” Her tone reflected the touch nerve. “Nothing’s going to happen to him. Not if I can ever help it.” Despite the man not threatening him, the protectiveness towards the Exarch had raised her tension once more, only by letting her focus shift back towards to the tower did she find any reprieve to relax.

“They built somethin’ in there that helped. I don’t know how to explain it, but…it’s like a creature from the Source. Somethin’ that can distort time and space by using it’s own power.” A sigh. If she knew more of the mechanics, she could explain it better, but she had merely only beaten up the thing when it had gotten out of control. “His body…it’s like that because he’s spent too long in that place.”

Shrugging it off some, Koya paid more mind to what he had to say. A small, breathy chuckle emitted from her as she cocked her hip to the side, hand falling to rest on it. “Maybe then, when you’ve had a few drinks. It’d be nice to know the type of person that can tame someone like you. Do they happen to know the secret to silencing your chattiness too? If so, I’d want to meet them.” A tease, although someone who had a place and people to go home to.

It sounded nice.

“The set is at my home in the Source. I can go to and fro with a portal in the Ocular, and can probably take you with me, if you’re still here by the morning.” With the battle won, it would be a surprise if most were still around and not spirited back to where they had been summoned from. “I can show you a mammet there too. One as chatty as you, to boot.” There was one in the goldsmith guild that always seemed to chatter.

Nodding, it was a strange thing to encounter. “Were they the same? Before Hades turned, he was a man of about your stature. But now I know that’s not their true forms.” No, none from Amarot had been small, and even when she visited, she was regarded as a child. “Could the people you know of disguise themselves like us?” Ascians were a whole new, yet ancient breed that Koya found hard to understand.

However, the idea of a Moogle was hard to describe if one had no idea what it was. A fleeting thought to draw it, but instead taking him was the easiest of all answers. “Nah, they actually say it! Yeah, here.” She reached out, once more taking a hold of his wrist, tugging him towards the door like one would lead a lost child. Opening the door and headed down the hallway, they once again passed the reverie that laid within the inn.

“When we’re done, we’ll come back for a drink with them.” She offered back towards Ringabel. “Don’t wanna make you break a promise to them, after all.”

"Your praise is, as before, most appreciated." Ringabel replied at once, failing at stopping himself from looking at least a little smug. He is a man of many talents, but it's nice to have somebody verify it for him. He regarded her explanation of what she has to offer with a considerably dimmed expression. Evidently he couldn't tell whether or not she was denigrating herself for a lack of bringing things to the table, because when he spoke next it was to reassure.

"I find that a willingness to be helpful is often a great deal more useful than a particular skill or talent. You see, given time -- sometimes a lot of it -- that helpfulness leads down the road towards the very skills that let you help more." He hums thoughtfully, raising a finger to his chin, "In a roundabout way, that's how I found my way here. I was incredibly determined to be of use to the man who raised me, you see. It pulled me in quite a few different directions-- combat being the most prominent of them, in the end, I suppose. Personally, I prefer the peaceful times."

He slipped the journal back into a leather pocket at his waist, eyebrows lifting at Koya's line of thinking. Ringabel smiled, and replied, "That's most unfortunate. This addled mind of mine has a habit of dredging up the best stories when I'm out of sorts. I suppose that you'll just have to hear them secondhand... assuming that my other conversation partners aren't just as incapacitated as I."

"Ah," he said, "but then you could still ask the barkeep."

"Of course, there's always the possibility that you receive a few whispers on your way to depositing me wherever you think is safest." He shrugged, folding his arms loosely across his stomach, "I wouldn't know. We've only known each other for a little while, after all. Perhaps I shouldn't say so, but you might be underestimating my proficiency at begging. Not that I'm prone to it."

The more serious topic of inter-world travel pulled the amused expression off of his face at once. Ringabel shook his head, "It's more complicated than that. Ordinarily, the worlds are not linked, you see. Imagine for instance that each world is surrounded by a glove. While that world is thus surrounded, other worlds cannot access it. What happens when Crystals are used to link the worlds is, that a hole is punched from one glove into the next one over. Unfortunately, the site of the breach is quite destructive, and I've never seen it happen in a different spot. It always obliterates a village called Norende."

"We don't travel dimensionally on purpose," he adds, "but once the door's open, it stays open and doesn't cause further harm. So it happened in my world, and here I am. Travel to /other/ realities, further removed from my Luxendarc... well, I have no idea. I am astonished that it wasn't destructive at all. Perhaps I'll ask him more about it before I attempt to make my exit, but... I don't know. That's a medicine so strong I would call it almost poison, if not for the unusual circumstances into which I was called."

Eyebrows lift in reaction to Koya's agitation surrounding the Exarch, but Ringabel refrains from commentary. He's gathered enough information to know a little of what happened, and doesn't feel as if it's worth pushing right now. It wouldn't help either of them, anyway. He gestures loosely into the air, "Well, he has a worthy guardian, then."

A question goes unasked -- aren't you not from around here, too? What about when you go?

"Externalizing a series of functions in order to achieve a greater degree of control over a phenomena, hm? I've seen something like that. It was destructive rather than constructive. A great deal of pain bound up in a crystalline wrapper." He mused.

Do they know the secret to silencing your chattiness, she asks. Ringabel allows his expression to fall as he considers the question. It wasn't one that he minded answering, but the answer itself was boring. Running a hand through his hair and issuing a sharp sigh, he said, "Why, they simply ask sincerely, of course. I am accustomed to working with the energetically rough-edged, rigidly polite, and astonishingly mild. I know when they really need me to turn myself off, as it were."

He leaned forward, raising a hand conspiratorially parallel with his mouth, "The secret is getting to know each other, you see."

"I'm not going anywhere just yet. Dimensional anomalies are a part of my job, and this definitely counts. I would be perfectly pleased to visit this other world of yours, and I see no reason why the route you use would not function for me. I assume that it is passingly similar to this place." He pointed at the ceiling and waved his hand in a circle, to indicate 'the universe they occupy'.

Koya's question brings the journal out again. Ringabel cracked it open and turned it around to display a two-page spread of a fairy and then a... rather disgusting-looking quasi-humanoid larval form next to it, "No. They're capable of some form of disguise, but usually they're something 'other', even when they look more benign than they are. There's the occasional fox spirit, too. Hades is a unique case for me, but I am aware of beings similar to him. I just haven't met them in a context where I could say what sort of shape variety they employ. They're from another step up in reality from us."

Ringabel stumbled as he was pulled by the wrist, re-gained his balance, and hastily put his journal away as he complied with Koya's tugging.

Ladybug hadn’t expected him to probe, even teasingly, and she shot him a look coupled with a smile that meant she couldn’t utter the truth entirely. However, a quick wink issued out of her as a truthful and vague idea populated in her mind. “To own my own business.” Truthful, whether she ended up taking over the Patisserie from her father or became the designer she dreamed of, it could have been any business for any girl in the city.

Perhaps dangerous territory, but the most perilous information had already crossed her lips towards him: her feelings. Nothing she felt aside from revealing herself wholly to him would be as impactful.

“Well,” she began with a chuckle. “It’s not like my ribbons are long or sturdy enough for the job I usually need done.” A small gesture towards the red accessories in her hair was offered, but she gave a shrug. “I’m lucky he’s always there to help me.” In a way, it seemed he was more of a lucky charm than her own weapon, always needing him by her side to save the day.

A sigh left her lips as she shook her head. “Well, at least you keep her safe. I wish she wouldn’t get like that, but…” Ladybug dragged her words some, exasperation touching her tone. “It is Chloe. Maybe someday she’ll learn, I hope.” It was the last she would mention of the female blonde, not wanting her to mar her moments with Adrien, but out of all he could be saving, there were worse.

Nodding a little, she wondered which one of their class would have told him that. Rose? Alya? It was few options of their friends before Ladybug offered out, “Well, you know I’ll always be there when you need me, even if it’s for party clean up.” A mild jest to make him smile. “It might not have been, but I know for sure that even so, every time I’ve seen you since, you’ve made me fall more and more with who you are. Someone sweet, kind, caring, someone who looks out for others, and…” There was so much more she could say, but she didn’t.

No, she had to talk to Chat, if she said more, did more, she would have entirely lost herself in doing something beyond embarrassing herself in front of him. Not just on her civilian side, but now her hero side? Marinette felt like she was a flustered mess even if Adrien knew that she was sincere and did not actually think he smelled.

“Oh?” Finally taking a chance to look out, Ladybug realized that the city was mildly sleepy this night. Normally lively and bustling, Paris had taken on a glow of somnolence, making it a nice night for reprieve for them. “Yeah, you’re right…” She murmured softly, an admission more to herself rather than anything else.

His utterance had her attention pulled entirely back to her Miraculous weapon, brows furrowing. “Chat!” She scolded his words, pouting at the screen that illuminated with his cocky features. “It wasn’t like–” but he confirmed he was there and the nickname fell so easily that she was a fraction too slow. “Don’t–!”

“…Call me that.” Ladybug groaned into the dead line as she clicked the yo-yo shut before lobbing it towards a far off building. Nerves began to gnaw at her, but his tone had been almost reassuring—Chat had sounded happy. Maybe it was a good sign she hoped for, something that would mean he wouldn’t be heartbroken when she told him the truth.

Arriving within a few minutes, despite his black outfit, finding the feline hero was easy. “Chaton,” she greeted as her yo-yo reeled back to her hand and placed at her waist. Just the way he stood, confident and without much seeming to be on his mind, it was Ladybug who felt full of worries. “I’m sorry for calling you out like this and acting…weird?” A deep breath taken as she smoothed out the back of her hair and looked pointedly away from him.

“It’s just…It’s about him. Um…” How to even begin this, when he knew that she was spending time with Adrien, when he knew that she had someone she loved. “So…” Taking in a deep breath, Ladybug took a step forward, placing her hands on his arms gently, forcing herself to look directly up at him. “I’ve told you…a lot of times. That I’m in love with someone.” Her lips pressed together slightly before continuing. “I found out tonight that he loves me back and I…”

Shaking her head, she took a step back, hands lifting up in front of her frame half way, almost as if she was frightened. “I hope you can please understand that I want to tell him how I feel and I want to be with him. I’ve always said I was nothing more than a friend to him, but…he means the world to me, Chat. I couldn’t lie to you and not tell you, because you mean too much to me. You’re my best friend, and if anyone can know that I love Adrien, it’s you.”

Chat Noir smiled in reaction to Ladybug’s response over the phone. Of course, she didn’t like most of his nicknames in casual circumstances, but there’s a part of him that wonders whether or not she would regard things as okay if he wasn’t using them at all. His partner had magnificent attention to detail, and as a consequence little things like that didn’t seem to slip beneath her radar for too long.

It was strange to see Ladybug nervous. He was expecting it because of the circumstances and their prior conversation, but it was a new light to view her in-- relatively speaking. The last time he saw it must have been their very first meeting, when she didn’t quite believe in herself openly. As she approached he drew out his baton and leaned against it, tilting forward minutely.

“It’s okay, My Lady. You know you’re always welcome to give me a ring, no matter the time or day.” He said. Misfortune seemed to follow the sentiment behind this statement, though. Adrien could think of many occasions where Ladybug was feverishly attempting to contact him when he was... right there, and he could only imagine that she had failed to reach him more times than had ever actually been brought up. His stint as Aspik stood out the most, for what a disaster it was in the absence of Chat Noir.

His eyebrows rose higher and higher in answer to Ladybug’s continued explanation. He knew what was coming, and the reason for it. In the tiniest way it did grate on him, in a way that he would have found almost impossible to articulate. The divide between which of his identities held her affections-- and why he should, instead of this one. But the sentiment vanished into the jubilant feelings that she loved him anyway.

Even if it wasn’t in the way that he originally wanted her to.

“Ladybug.” The feline superhero said at last, when his partner’s posture became defensive. That, he didn’t want. As cranky as he could get about Ladybug’s affections, he didn’t want her to think that she needed to... brace for impact. He might vent his frustrations bodily if it wasn’t just himself on the other end of things, but not on her. Never on her. Probably on one of the many damnable advertisements bearing his visage.

“Nobody who spends that much time with you is going to avoid falling in love with you. I haven’t been sitting around assuming that you weren’t telling me the truth, but nobody looking in from the outside would think that it wasn’t a possibility that you had already gotten more involved than you were. I kind of got my being-upset-about-this out of the way a long time ago.” He stopped leaning against his baton, raising it barely an inch off the ground and bringing it forward to nudge playfully against the front of Ladybug’s toes.

“But,” Chat Noir flashed a cheshire grin, “if you don’t mind me saying so, Buginette, it’s purrr-etty cute how slow you move. I expected that you’d have gotten to this point within... about a week or so.”

He withdrew the baton, replacing it at the small of his back and circling ‘round to Ladybug’s other side. Chat Noir draped his arm over her shoulder casually, a position of conversation that was fairly common with them-- even if it was often a prelude to flirting from him. Tonight, that wasn’t the case.

“I appreciate you feeling like you could say so. There’s just one thing that’s a real mystery to me, based on my own experiences with this sort of thing.” Chat Noir guided Ladybug about in a circle, striding towards her landing point and holding a hand out towards the Parisian skyline. Since when does Chat Noir have experiences with this sort of thing?

Lifting herself up at his comment, Ladybug batted her lashes a few times in mild confusion at his tone. “I guess I know what you mean. There’s so many around, a couple of them are different but I bet they’d be collector’s items too.” Her gaze flickered back to the advertisement briefly before darting back to him and waving her hands in denial. “Not that I would ever take one! I wouldn’t have any place to put it…N-not that I’m saying that’s the only reason I wouldn’t…”

This was almost exhausting, her brain fighting against her normal Marinette tendencies in lieu of being under the mask. Her only reprieve was his sunny smile and offer to actually spend time with him.

“Really? You’d want to?” Ladybug’s voice turned elated as she brought up her hands to her cheeks with excitement. Realization of her actions made her clear her throat as she lowered her hands to fold together in front of her as she nodded. “I mean, that would be really amazing. There’s nothing really specific…and…”

A glance down at her clothing was enough of a reminder. “I would sort of stick out any place I go. I doubt there’s any place in Paris I could go like this without people bothering us while we spent time together.” She breathed out sadly.

Adrien laughed, looking between Ladybug and the advertisement. He nodded, “Yeah... some of them are. The same goes for you, no? I guess you don’t have much control over that, yourself.” He blinked rapidly at her quick amendment, folding his arms over his chest and surveying her with raised eyebrows. The temptation to tease her a little surfaced almost immediately, but-- he wondered if that would run her off. He knew she didn’t really put up with too much in the way of shenanigans.

“Well,” he unfolded his arms and waved at the advertisement, “if you want one of those there are boxes of them sitting around at home. I could leave one outside of the window for you, if you like. You’ve ended up having to fight some nasty off there enough times that I’m sure you know the way by now.”

“I’m sure you could get something on ebay for them.” He added, amusedly.

He turned about to look up and down the streets. Picking the most deserted direction that he could find, Adrien looked at Ladybug and jerked his head in that direction in invitation, beginning to walk with the expectation that she would join him.

“If you have a better idea, I’m pretty used to getting carried around by you now. But for now, I think this is good enough.” He said.

I’m starting back to school next week, so my free time will diminish a little bit in service to classes.

Adrien took the box with a smile and an inquisitive look. Before he opened it he pushed back a cushion on the couch, retrieving a thin, rectangular package wrapped in a night sky-themed paper, accompanied by a silvery-white bow. He passed it towards Ladybug, his expression turning a little bit sheepish.

“I, er... I’m sorry if it’s kind of a lot, but I thought we could...” He cut himself off, and shook his head, “I’ll explain when you open it.”

He opened his own packaging brightly, casting a curious look up at her just before tipping the box opened. His face lit up further, though only a little, because Ladybug’s presence drew him up to the height of contentedness with great swiftness.

Sweater and pendant were both donned immediately. Adrien didn’t have that many sentimental gifts, and he loved those most of all.

Looking up at Ladybug, he replied, “I love them! And I’ll... probably have to hide the pendant, but I’m not going to try too hard. People can be scandalized if they want.”

The gift he had given, meanwhile, contained-- a thoroughly preloaded burner phone, and a tablet with a face camera.

Keep reading

There he went once more, prattling on in a manner that mostly went over the woman’s head, speaking of this foreign place with a vocabulary that exceeded her own. Giving mild nods as he rounded back towards the subject at hand, thinking to how he had made fast friends with the other members of their party. It was typical of the tank and healer classes to do such, garnering who they should give their protection or heals to on the battlefield.

“Really?” She mused some, her shoulders lifting in a mild shrug. “I suppose I’ve always been a little different than most then. I tend to seek out new things rather than the familiar.” Everything was new to her in a sense, the single constant only being the Scions, and even then they tended to venture off on their own missions without her. Considering this was an ample opportunity, consideration was made.

“…Maybe I’ll join you for that drink you promised them afterwards.”

Koya’s heckles lowered at Ringabel’s distinction, realizing that the man did not mean to challenge her way of life. Rather, it reminded her of the wars back on the source: The Dragonsong and the Doman entrapment. Both had people who had suffered injustice from tyrants, both had sorrow that could not be stopped by the front of her fist. “I think you can see what kind of person someone is when you fight them, but not more than…just a match of winning or losing.” Not like a particular Garlean who wished only to the death.

“No one’s ever seemed to feel that way about it before.” Her tone a fraction softer, as if he finally found a way to align a string of connection directly to her. “You look at it like I do. I’m not much of a dancer, but moving and clashing with someone, or maneuvering with someone, taking down a target together…it’s…exciting and can bring you closer to someone. ” Her expression seemed to almost give away a gentleness that had been buried by the thorny exterior that attempted to obscure it.

The trailing gaze paused and a pink hue dusted her cheeks before glancing away, restoring the shell to withdraw her emotions back into. “Not that I would want to, especially when I don’t know how long I’ll be here in this shard.” A clunky way to smooth over her thought, her mind slightly torn on his next statement.

“Don’t get many women’s approvals, hmm?” A mild tease with the slight cocking of her hips, yet a pause held before she took a breath, letting her gaze shift around the entirety of his form. “I wouldn’t know.” A softer breath, nearly inaudible. A truthful statement that only seemed to align with his understanding of measurement.

“You know meters?” Koya inquired of him with astonishment. “I do too.” Something that seemed to sit odd with her, that this man from another world would know the proclaimed ‘made up’ number system she used. However, Ringabel had managed to garner her attention with his recanting, causing her thumb and forefinger to rest on her chin in contemplation. Remarkably, she remained quiet for the entirety of his explaination.

“As far as I know, crystals don’t really grow here. Or, if they do, it’d take a hell of a long time, unless you force one together. The biggest ‘crystal’ we have is the main Aetheryte, which are just like their name, are made of Aether.” A pause to see if he might know of Aether before she went into the simplistic explanation she had been given by a specific Miqo’te. “Aether is energy that is both magic and life. It’s the reason plants grow and the reason people can do magic, we all have a balance of it inside of us. The Aetherytes are big batches of it in physical form, known as crystals, which attune to the Aether within us to allow teleportation.”

“Primals are made when someone gathers a bunch of these crystals and tries to summon their point of worship and usually turn into some big ol’ destructive creature. They suck up that Aether from the land and enthrall people to worship ‘em to make them stronger, so people who have the Echo, like me, gotta take them down.”

However, even with the Echo, it seemed like every time she touched on something that would seem second nature to her outside of the realm of the world, her mind ached, and Hydaelyn’s blessing soothed it over, until she thought of it again.

Koya withdrew the feather, looking at the shape. “Yeah…I’ve measured it to a few golden wings and none of them match. It would have to be a big wing span from some creature…” Giving a sigh, she slid the object back into her bag and leaned back in mild frustration, her gaze lifting towards the ceiling. “Other worlds…weird things that don’t make sense…One could envy a Moogle right about now. Little buggers don’t have a care in the world like this.”

A small hesitation made before her optics rolled back down to meet his tan hued eyes. “Maybe you don’t have feathers like that or crystals like we got here, but tell me: do you know of any other races besides the ones you’ve seen here?”

“Oh, to be sure. But the circumstances matter. Let us use my situation as an example,” Ringabel gestured into the air emphatically, “I am quite familiar with being called to other dimensions, and with the occasional extended interdimensional visit. Indeed, even before I met you I had undertaken extended journeys into other dimensions on a good half dozen different occasions. Probably more, but I don’t want to quibble over specific numbers. The situation here, though, is different from the ones before.”

“The summoned Warriors were a familiar point of interest. Like using stars in the sky as navigational tools. It was easier for me to navigate this reality by cleaving close to those who were in a similar situation to me. But, dear Koya, I think that you will quite often find the devil is in the details.”

“I was quite adventurous with the local food and drink, and as I pointed out to you I made a choice of scribbling my own map along the way rather than making use of entrenched local resources.”

“It is an essential element,” He raised his hand towards the heavens, index finger outstretched, “to make certain that your life is filled with new experiences. Fall into a rut and time starts passing by quicker than you can blink. But that doesn’t mean you have to be outside of your comfort zone every step of the way. You are fundamentally a warrior, yes? You walk through the world, finding new places and peoples, but being a warrior is a constant element of that journey. People who can relate to our experiences, though-- even across universes, that number isn’t so high. In the average world, a few dozen. Perhaps a hundred in the most populace of them, where people drown the stars.”

Ringabel beamed, “I will be glad to have your company. Though I hope you’ll excuse that I am as verbose drunk as I am sober, and rather more chatty.”

Which is probably almost hard to believe.

He nodded affirmatively in answer to Koya’s understanding of fighting, “Quite a few of my peers felt the same way. It is a philosophical approach to communication that was transmitted through the ranks of my home country’s military rather more effectively than I think was originally intended.”

Most of the amusement drained from his face. It wasn’t an expression that seemed at home on Ringabel, who usually managed at least a mask of some positive geniality if not joviality. He rubbed at the back of his head, “Yes, well... there are some things that you cannot go through without achieving a certain perspective, regardless of the particularities of the inciting events. Even separated by the boundaries of countless worlds, that is an understanding that exists between people in our role.”

Confusion flickered across his features. Accustomed though he was to kinship through arms, he was on a slightly different wavelength than Koya at that exact moment, and didn’t seem to follow until her face warmed visibly. Ringabel found his thoughts drifting, confusion yielding to a lightly distressed look.

“Yes,” he agreed, “I know what you mean. I am not from the shard of Luxendarc to which I have become most accustomed, so I am ever separated from my fellow Warriors as if by a sheet of glass. Occasionally I wonder if I ought not settle with them, away from the world of my birth. But as I am sure you know, it is not a decision that comes easily, lightly, or quickly.”

The teasing that followed seemed to bring the ‘regular’ Ringabel back. His smile returned at once, “It is often the case that i do not receive the regards of those from whom I most deeply crave it, dear Koya, but receiving praise from others at large has never been a great difficulty to me. As you have by now observed, I make friends quite quickly, eat correctly, exercise appropriately, and--”

“I do not neglect appropriate fashion accompaniment. Er...” He looked around, “Not by Luxendarc’s standards, anyway. I am probably a bit off in this place.”

You know meters? She asked, and Ringabel blinked in surprise. He nodded, “Yes, of course. It is the unit of measurement preferred by Eternia. The rest of the world tends to use their own systems, usually based off of some physical medium common to the area. I believe that Ancheim for instance uses a unit of measurement based off of--”

He stopped himself, “Nevermind. So you use that unit of measurement, but this world seems to measure things closer to what I would call yards. Hmm... you’re probably from a civilization that values a particular gradient of precision and uniformity, which suggests a certain element of advancement. Mine is one of the only properly industrialized countries, and the only one on Luxendarc equipped with airships in the modern era. Is there anyplace like that in this place?”

“Crystals do take a long time to grow,” Ringabel confirms, “so I imagine something similar applies here. They might grow faster than where I come from-- I’ve never seen anything like an Aetheryte before. Aether isn’t terminology I’ve heard before, either... and Primals... I’ve encountered something similar, but neither of those beings were creatures of our or any other world. They came from outside, and intended to ascend to what we call the Celestial Realm.”

“It’s mostly just humans, where I come from.” He explained, “The few other races tend to be quite hostile. Things from outside the universe altogether, or demons. Some of them are more-or-less people, but there aren’t whole societies of them like you see around here.”

Her gaze followed his gesture towards his shoulder plates, only to turn and inspect the difference between her own casual wear and his armor. A rounded surface type that jutted out far more than would be normal of one of her class, his term was fairly accurate for the shape as she nodded. “It’s a sentimentality thing.” She confirmed an unasked question as she gave a small shrug, the pauldrons shifting with the motion. It had been hard to emulate the equipment, but felt the glamour prisms did it service enough.

A mild wash of relief came over Koya; at least he was willing to listen to her request without further question. The woman did not press further upon him with the subject, his ability to be able to pick and amend serving him well to earn better graces as the words were exchanged.

“I’m not sure ‘filled’ is the term I would use.” She offered back, glancing towards the gathering before the doors closed behind them and her step fell in tandem with his own. “This place barely has been able to see the night’s sky, the people here are mostly just tryin’ to live. It’s why we did what we did, or at least…” She frowned a little, tilting her gaze towards a window. The crystal tower in plain view for them before she entered the inn’s quarters. “Why I did it.”

A slide of her gaze shifted to him, her frown seeming a touch lighter than before. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.” She retorted, closing the door behind her.

But ease was coming upon her. Fighting, training, all of that was second nature. A thrill within her despite the grueling way they had battled not long before. Her frame itched to fight, but not entirely out of malicious intent. It was more a goal, a pastime otherwise, something she could enjoy and release the tension that had been building up since she had returned to the Crystarium. Even the mild little punches seemed to work wonders on her stress, enough that she let her guard down briefly as he reequipped himself, a small hesitation crossing her face.

Nothing new to her, the shift in his armor was only mildly surprising as she inspected his set. Unable to ascertain how strong it would it, it’s make foreign to her entirely, she frowned and instead had focused on her punches, working out the rising stiffness in her shoulders. Different worlds, a voice she couldn’t remember but knew so very well…

It frustrated her and a hard jab in the air made it clear.

Shaking her head, her fists were lowered as instead she perked a brow at him. “No shit, huh?” She almost chuckled out before taking a step closer to him, and rather gently instead reaching out for his wrist to inspect his gloves. They didn’t seem to disguise any gauntlets; they were merely half gloves that covered his hand. “Good thing you didn’t wear this into battle, Hades would have thrown you more than a few hundred yalms in this. I’ll have to show you how to actually punch when we’re in a place we can break things.”

Dropping his hand, her own came to rest upon her hips. “Yeah…About that…stuff.” She conceded, despite the tension it brough back into her frame. Speaking of it was a known taboo among the Scions and the Exarch, yet something more seemed to bother her about the idea. Shifting herself back towards a chair and seating herself finally, legs crossing at the knee as she leaned back some, attempting to find some sort of reprieve from the sensation tugging at her form.

“Look, the people here, they don’t know about the other shards. There’s only one world to ‘em, and the Exarch thinks people will panic if they knew.” Waving her hand a little, it was all too complicated for her. Traveling worlds, Hydaelyn and everything they had learned about her and Zodiarc in the past few weeks. All of it was so much to take in, more questions without any answers.

“But you said…You’re from somewhere else?” Koya’s voice was quieter, even her gaze a tinge softer upon him. “How’s that even possible? I didn’t think…” Hesitating, Koya lifted her hand to her temple, the small edge of pain that would be removed by Hydaelyn’s gift soon radiating through her skull. “No, I…I think I always knew there was…other stars out there. But I don’t know how I knew.”

“I understand completely.” Ringabel replied, nodding firmly. Regarding his choice of phrasing, he said, “There were eight of us there at that battle, each of us summoned because of the particular qualities that we share with yourself, yes? That is twice as many Warriors as exists in my own universe, depending on who you are counting and how. It’s quite the dramatic increase.”

“But I suppose that even in this little world,” He rubbed at his chin, “that a handful is hardly filling. Nevertheless it raises my spirits to be summoned into the presence of so many of my peers. Truly, I had momentarily hoped that I would glimpse certain others who journeyed with me some time ago now, but I think the odds of that were somewhere in the range of astronomical.”

He jabbed his thumb against his own chest, “Personally, I just did it because the Exarch asked. It’s not the first time for me, and if it were not for others answering the summons in my time of need, my world would have ceased to exist. It was rather alarming. The world is where I keep all of my belongings.”

“No,” Ringabel granted, “but if we were to compare the events in our lives from start to present I would be willing to bet a few peeg-- sorry, you use gil here, don’t you?-- a few gil that the broad strokes would come out similar in some respects. Implicit in the title of Warrior comes a great excess of participation in battle. Though enjoyable on its own merits for recreation, it does grate on the spirit after a while.”

“Especially when you are so good at it that you cannot escape it.”

Reaching for his wrist goes unchallenged. It’s not hard to get the notion that he’s used to being handled in this way, or at the very least had serious instructors who would examine him and his equipment like this. Ringabel blinked at Koya’s criticism, looking down at himself.

“You may be misjudging slightly,” He corrected gently, “this job is specialized in empowerment in the absence of arms or armor. I would actually become rather weaker were I to ‘suit up’. Though I suspect...”

The dark-knight-turned-monk extended his arm out parallel to Koya’s, “... That you strike rather deeper than I do, regardless. I’m afraid that I’ve never had the time and opportunity to put on more than a soldier’s musculature. Ah, by the way...”

He withdrew his arm, “Would you mind demonstrating the length of a yalm to me? Being unfamiliar with the local units of measurement has proven mildly inconvenient on occasion.”

Looking only slightly disappointed that lessons would have to wait for a more safely destructible environment, another flash brought Ringabel down to a set of clothes that looked practically local. A blue jacket accompanied by black pants, knee-high boots, and elbow-length gloves. A little winter-leaning for the temperate weather of the Crystarium, but it would be right at home among the middle to upper middle class of any nation with hume.

Drawing an elaborate journal with a black cover and a silver-engraved D on its face from his hip, he tugged a sheaf of loose parchment out along with a pen clipped onto the back. Replacing the book, he moved over to the table and began to draw.

“Most people don’t understand it back home, either. Things escalated in a way that prevented us from shielding the populace from the particulars of certain elements of the truth, but I’ll uphold your disinclination to discuss the matter in public.” He began to explain.

Holding up what he drew -- rather expertly, if sketchily for the amount of time it took him -- Ringabel continued, “I am from a world called Luxendarc. Crystals -- of which we have four -- connect the worlds together. They aren’t always active, but when they are they provide egress to other Luxendarcs. Like this.” He gestured with the edge of his pen towards the drawing, where two planets are drawn in boxes side-by-side, with four crystals drawn at their center and a line drawn between them.

“I suspect,” Ringabel turned away and began to scribble again, “that the prolific use of Crystals in this place, and in particular the Crystal Tower, enabled the abridging of our realities in a way that would ordinarily not be possible. Your crystals tapped into the connection of our crystals, and so I was able to be summoned.”

Capping his pen, he turned back towards Koya. Light concern overrode an otherwise enthusiastically interested expression, the smile fading from his features.