Face-first just goes right in

They blow a raspberry. “I don’t think I’m really a ‘grand goals’ type of person, I just want to live and be happy and have all the people I care about get to live and be happy. Which I guess is kinda a grand goal in the fucked up sort of way.” They laugh humorously and look out, staring past the sparring warriors and into the distance.

“I mean, I think...the fact that your way of going about this goal is to pick up a sword? That’s kind of grand, too. You know?” Fray favors Brango with a smile. “It’s noble.”

They blow a raspberry. “I don’t think I’m really a ‘grand goals’ type of person, I just want to live and be happy and have all the people I care about get to live and be happy. Which I guess is kinda a grand goal in the fucked up sort of way.” They laugh humorously and look out, staring past the sparring warriors and into the distance.

“I mean, I think...the fact that your way of going about this goal is to pick up a sword? That’s kind of grand, too. You know?” Fray favors Brango with a smile. “It’s noble.”

They blow a raspberry. “I don’t think I’m really a ‘grand goals’ type of person, I just want to live and be happy and have all the people I care about get to live and be happy. Which I guess is kinda a grand goal in the fucked up sort of way.” They laugh humorously and look out, staring past the sparring warriors and into the distance.

“Thanks!” Brango says with a broad grin, making a joke out of taking the complaint as a compliment. “Though huh, it actually is possible that it is because you’re training with us. No idea though. It’s not conscious, but you know, the force of story and things or something.”

“And all your Mantles overlapping might have something to do with it, even if we can’t all sense them in detail. Though better your Mantles than my Nimbus going off, of course.” Fray flops back to lie down on the grass, face up, catching his breath.

“Mmm,” Brango nods. “How’re you doing, with that destruction stuff?”

“I like how they feel in my hand. I’ve been working a little with a battleaxe, but I still feel too slow to use it in sparring situations. I’ve considered trying something like a khopesh or a machete, but for now hand-axes are a good fit for what I’m trying to do.”

He smirks. “Fuck shit up, if you’ll pardon my language. I’m planning on taking it to the Seers someday, maybe leaving this city for someplace bigger and with more problems with them.”

“Hell yeah, fuck shit up!” Brango offers a fistbump. “That’s a great goal.”

“Thanks!” Brango says with a broad grin, making a joke out of taking the complaint as a compliment. “Though huh, it actually is possible that it is because you’re training with us. No idea though. It’s not conscious, but you know, the force of story and things or something.”

“And all your Mantles overlapping might have something to do with it, even if we can’t all sense them in detail. Though better your Mantles than my Nimbus going off, of course.” Fray flops back to lie down on the grass, face up, catching his breath.

“Mmm,” Brango nods. “How’re you doing, with that destruction stuff?”

“I like how they feel in my hand. I’ve been working a little with a battleaxe, but I still feel too slow to use it in sparring situations. I’ve considered trying something like a khopesh or a machete, but for now hand-axes are a good fit for what I’m trying to do.”

“Thanks!” Brango says with a broad grin, making a joke out of taking the complaint as a compliment. “Though huh, it actually is possible that it is because you’re training with us. No idea though. It’s not conscious, but you know, the force of story and things or something.”

“And all your Mantles overlapping might have something to do with it, even if we can’t all sense them in detail. Though better your Mantles than my Nimbus going off, of course.” Fray flops back to lie down on the grass, face up, catching his breath.

“Mmm,” Brango nods. “How’re you doing, with that destruction stuff?”

“Thanks!” Brango says with a broad grin, making a joke out of taking the complaint as a compliment. “Though huh, it actually is possible that it is because you’re training with us. No idea though. It’s not conscious, but you know, the force of story and things or something.”

“And all your Mantles overlapping might have something to do with it, even if we can’t all sense them in detail. Though better your Mantles than my Nimbus going off, of course.” Fray flops back to lie down on the grass, face up, catching his breath.

“Mmm,” Brango nods. “How’re you doing, with that destruction stuff?”

“Thanks!” Brango says with a broad grin, making a joke out of taking the complaint as a compliment. “Though huh, it actually is possible that it is because you’re training with us. No idea though. It’s not conscious, but you know, the force of story and things or something.”

“That’s…wild. God, I feel like I’d get into so much more shit if I didn’t feel fear.”

They nod. “Yeah, that happens. On the plus side it’s really easy to talk to people now.”

“No fear means no anxiety, either? Jesus, what a life…” they chuckle.

“Yup!” They give two thumbs up. “Just gotta try really hard not to die with my missing survival instincts!”

That gets a cackle. “Looks like you’ve been doing a decent job of not dying so far - let me tell you, it fucking sucks.”

“I mean there’s not much to talk about, I don’t think. We died, we came back with a friend who tries to get us to do shit sometimes. We can see ghosts and shit.” They shrug.

They shrug as well. “Fair enough.” They look around. “Any ghosts here? Aside from the ones attached to people like you, I mean. Just wondering because this is an event mostly themed around secrecy but also around sorrow, so like, ghosts? Ghost do the mourning thing? I don’t know.”

“Oh yeah that’s totally reasonable. I forget about these sorts of things because my sleep schedule’s been fucked for years. But yeah I can swing by tomorrow afternoon!” The two exchange their “good nights” and with a wave Brango jogs down the street. If Dunderback stays out to watch he can see them hop a fence and go out of his line of sight between two buildings.

They stand around messing with their phone for about 5 minutes before it becomes clear that they are actually going to have to ring the bell. So they ring the bell.

“COMING!” Dunderback bellows from the back: it can be heard plainly in the front. Some clunking. If Brango is looking that way they can see Dunderback on the other side of the swinging doors, hanging up a chain-mail apron and a pair of metal gloves. They look at little more martial than might be expected. He wipes his face on a towel and steps through the doors. “Hey, roof rat!” he says warmly, and steps to a sink to wash his hands.

“Hello!” They say cheerfully. “Was that chain mail?”

“Sure was. Double purpose, if you catch my drift,” and Dunderback mimes a couple punches. He’s a lot more energetic now than in the dead of night. Friendlier, too. “Don’t worry, I always sterilize it afterwards. What’s yer pleasure?”

“Seems like that would be a lot harder to clean than any other sort of apron. Also leaky? I mean I haven’t ever worn chainmail so I don’t actually know, but,” they end the sentence with a shrug.

“Well, you wear something underneath to catch the drips. That’s true for fighting too, come to think of it.” Dunderback pauses. “Not to come off like fighting’s something I like to do. Just, you know. When I have to.” He absently scrubs at a spot on the counter with a sponge. “You should try the roast beef, I cook it on site.”

“That’s…wild. God, I feel like I’d get into so much more shit if I didn’t feel fear.”

They nod. “Yeah, that happens. On the plus side it’s really easy to talk to people now.”

“No fear means no anxiety, either? Jesus, what a life…” they chuckle.

“Yup!” They give two thumbs up. “Just gotta try really hard not to die with my missing survival instincts!”

That gets a cackle. “Looks like you’ve been doing a decent job of not dying so far - let me tell you, it fucking sucks.”

“That’s…wild. God, I feel like I’d get into so much more shit if I didn’t feel fear.”

They nod. “Yeah, that happens. On the plus side it’s really easy to talk to people now.”

“No fear means no anxiety, either? Jesus, what a life…” they chuckle.

“Yup!” They give two thumbs up. “Just gotta try really hard not to die with my missing survival instincts!”

“That’s…wild. God, I feel like I’d get into so much more shit if I didn’t feel fear.”

They nod. “Yeah, that happens. On the plus side it’s really easy to talk to people now.”

“Oh yeah that’s totally reasonable. I forget about these sorts of things because my sleep schedule’s been fucked for years. But yeah I can swing by tomorrow afternoon!” The two exchange their “good nights” and with a wave Brango jogs down the street. If Dunderback stays out to watch he can see them hop a fence and go out of his line of sight between two buildings.

They stand around messing with their phone for about 5 minutes before it becomes clear that they are actually going to have to ring the bell. So they ring the bell.

“COMING!” Dunderback bellows from the back: it can be heard plainly in the front. Some clunking. If Brango is looking that way they can see Dunderback on the other side of the swinging doors, hanging up a chain-mail apron and a pair of metal gloves. They look at little more martial than might be expected. He wipes his face on a towel and steps through the doors. “Hey, roof rat!” he says warmly, and steps to a sink to wash his hands.

“Hello!” They say cheerfully. “Was that chain mail?”

“Sure was. Double purpose, if you catch my drift,” and Dunderback mimes a couple punches. He’s a lot more energetic now than in the dead of night. Friendlier, too. “Don’t worry, I always sterilize it afterwards. What’s yer pleasure?”

“Seems like that would be a lot harder to clean than any other sort of apron. Also leaky? I mean I haven’t ever worn chainmail so I don’t actually know, but,” they end the sentence with a shrug.

They shrug. “I guess. In some ways I ended up feeling like I belonged to the larger Community pretty fast when I moved here, though it took me a bit longer to actually make friends with the changeling part of my Community. Which makes sense given that I got a job at a werewolf restaurant well before I joined a court.”

“Court…you’re one of the Changelings, then? Kind of a built-in community there, isnt there?”

“Yup!” They nod. “A whole big system of courts and motleys that make sure we’re not trying to fight-slash-hide from super powerful beings all on our own. From the way you said that, I’m guessing your branch doesn’t?”

“There’s some…loose connection shit. But nothing organized like that, and there’s not enough of us here for any of it anyway. But we don’t have any super powerful beings after us like you guys do, so there’s not as much reason to organize.”

They nod. “Yeah. I’m glad you’re starting to feel more like you belong though. Nice to like, have that.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, but not bad-weird. Not used to having people to go to when shit hits the fan. Even if it rarely does here.” They chuckle.

“I mean, having so many people to turn to probably helps prevent shit from hitting the fan. Before I moved here, I was living with a group and they were like, assholes, but the group went down from 6 to 4 before I left. It was a very shitty fan.”

“Heh. I tend to be a loner, but with all this shit I’m so in over my head. The rules of…fuckin’ everything are different, you know?”

They shrug. “I guess? Sometimes it feels kinda like the kindergarten rules though. Be nice, be polite, help your friends, don’t go where everyone tells you is dangerous. That sort of stuff. Like sure, the consequences are a lot more serious, but I don’t know. Maybe there’s a whole bunch of rules I’m missing.”

“It’s the ‘high stakes if you fuck up’ thing that’s a little nervewracking. For me at least.”

“Ah yeah that makes sense,” they nod. “I can’t feel fear so I didn’t consider that.”

“Fuckin’ what?” They laugh, surprised.

“Ah! So we don’t already know each other!” They laugh. “Yeah no, because of what I was turned into I just can’t feel fear. It has it’s upsides and it downsides.”

“Oh yeah that’s totally reasonable. I forget about these sorts of things because my sleep schedule’s been fucked for years. But yeah I can swing by tomorrow afternoon!” The two exchange their “good nights” and with a wave Brango jogs down the street. If Dunderback stays out to watch he can see them hop a fence and go out of his line of sight between two buildings.

They stand around messing with their phone for about 5 minutes before it becomes clear that they are actually going to have to ring the bell. So they ring the bell.

“COMING!” Dunderback bellows from the back: it can be heard plainly in the front. Some clunking. If Brango is looking that way they can see Dunderback on the other side of the swinging doors, hanging up a chain-mail apron and a pair of metal gloves. They look at little more martial than might be expected. He wipes his face on a towel and steps through the doors. “Hey, roof rat!” he says warmly, and steps to a sink to wash his hands.

“Hello!” They say cheerfully. “Was that chain mail?”

They shrug. “I guess. In some ways I ended up feeling like I belonged to the larger Community pretty fast when I moved here, though it took me a bit longer to actually make friends with the changeling part of my Community. Which makes sense given that I got a job at a werewolf restaurant well before I joined a court.”

“Court…you’re one of the Changelings, then? Kind of a built-in community there, isnt there?”

“Yup!” They nod. “A whole big system of courts and motleys that make sure we’re not trying to fight-slash-hide from super powerful beings all on our own. From the way you said that, I’m guessing your branch doesn’t?”

“There’s some…loose connection shit. But nothing organized like that, and there’s not enough of us here for any of it anyway. But we don’t have any super powerful beings after us like you guys do, so there’s not as much reason to organize.”

They nod. “Yeah. I’m glad you’re starting to feel more like you belong though. Nice to like, have that.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, but not bad-weird. Not used to having people to go to when shit hits the fan. Even if it rarely does here.” They chuckle.

“I mean, having so many people to turn to probably helps prevent shit from hitting the fan. Before I moved here, I was living with a group and they were like, assholes, but the group went down from 6 to 4 before I left. It was a very shitty fan.”

“Heh. I tend to be a loner, but with all this shit I’m so in over my head. The rules of…fuckin’ everything are different, you know?”

They shrug. “I guess? Sometimes it feels kinda like the kindergarten rules though. Be nice, be polite, help your friends, don’t go where everyone tells you is dangerous. That sort of stuff. Like sure, the consequences are a lot more serious, but I don’t know. Maybe there’s a whole bunch of rules I’m missing.”

“It’s the ‘high stakes if you fuck up’ thing that’s a little nervewracking. For me at least.”

“Ah yeah that makes sense,” they nod. “I can’t feel fear so I didn’t consider that.”