maskormenace | 1 cuff | video

[ The video turns on to reveal a large man, who is providing it with a close-up shot of about half of his face, and one strong, muscular shoulder. Most of his skin is bare, aside from a white tunic-like garment pinned at that shoulder. It's evident that someone is in the room with him, since he's focused on them and not on what he's doing. ]

Is it working? I cannot tell if --

[ Another voice interrupts, directing his attention back to the camera, and then Damen adjusts it so that his whole face is on screen. He is dark-haired and dark-eyed, and his olive-toned skin is well bronzed by sunlight.

He could not look less comfortable with a camera in his hand. His smile is a somewhat awkward attempt at friendliness, but it's obvious this is new to him. ]

Hello. My name is Damen. [ His eyes flick away from the camera at that, looking again at his companion. 'Damen', and not 'Damianos'. A pet name given to a network of strangers. He sees no reason to hide their true names - but he’ll do it, even so.

While he is introducing himself, the person who had his attention earlier decides to make an appearance. Or better yet, he decides to slide into the space by ending half on Damen’s lap, one hand lazily lifting to sweep a little of his hair back from his forehead. Where the original man is large and olive skinned, Laurent looks fair and slight in comparison. He isn’t actually in miniature, a fact he will press upon people at some point, when perspective is brought up. And where there is bare skin on show behind him, his is all covered up by the kind of clothing that looks restricting even by modern standards. ]

And mine is Laurent. [ He somehow manages to look like he’s smiling without following through, which is a power he possessed before the Porter ever decided to bless him with new ones. ] As you might have guessed, we’ve only recently arrived to this wonderful place.

[ Damen has rearranged himself to give Laurent space, and slide an accommodating arm around his waist. At that comment, though, he rolls his eyes up at his lover. Be nice, Laurent.

Laurent catches that look out of the corner of his eye, mouth twitching slightly like that smile he’s been curbing is threatening to break free. ]

We would like any advice you can give about acclimatising while here. This world is unlike our own, your buildings, modes of transport, ways of communication - [ Lifting his brows upward as if to indicate the device . ] - they’re all unfamiliar. We would not like to remain ignorant.

[ Then Damen leans in, tagging onto the end: ]

And I have need of a place to train. I prefer the sword. If any of you would test your skill against mine, I’d welcome it.

[ The glance they share then seems to be one of mutual agreement. Laurent shifts slightly, reaches out to turn off the feed. His sleeve obscures the view, but to those with extremely good hearing they might catch the as if anyone could best you before Damen interrupts his own smile to reach forward.]

Wait - there was something else. [ There’s a brief scramble for something beside him, and then Damen lifts his file into view. With his eyebrows lifting and expression dubious, he reads from the page. ] Can someone tell me what-- ‘Sunday School’ is? I am supposed to teach it.

[ He glances up at Laurent, nodding. ] That’s it.

[ It’s settled then, Laurent angles the camera once, so that his sincere ( no, really! ) expression can be caught. ] We appreciate the aid.

[ ooc: Damen is red and Laurent is blue. ]

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[ The Doctor just sighs at that, a little shake of his head. Obviously, he's got differing opinions about training for fun. ]

You should meet Van, the two of you would be thick as thieves.

[ He wasn't the one who asked.

He'll just find people to fight when he's feeling particularly vicious, instead of being polite and enquiring. ]

I did wonder if there would be much cause for it here. The field of battle must be different from what we are used to. [ Powers. Guns. Something called a Russian. ]

The tools are different, but battle's battle. The end result's always the same, let's have more of our guys standing than the other team.

[ and wow he is just OH SO BITTER when he talks about war and battle. Somebody's got issues with that sort of thing. ]

[ Two fair brows drift toward's Laurent's hair line. ]

It would be foolish to try for anything else. [ Someone is always going to be weaker, someone is always going to fall. ] Thankfully, I prefer mine with words.

[ He also likes to come across as someone who doesn't know how to fight.

It works, when big men think they can knock him down. ]

Though, is a fight not why we are here?

That's why the government says we're here. And honestly, I think it's sheer incompetence over anything else.

[ don't get him started on his rant about time ]

Amassing an army?

How could that be incompetence? Surely if there is a war to be won, you need the men to win it.

The incompetence doesn't come in amassing an army, pay attention Goldilocks! The incompetence comes in the fact that we're here. If they truly wanted us to serve as an army, why bring in children? Also, why would they let people get Ported out in the first place?

[ Goldilocks.

It's not a reference he gets, but it still makes something shutter even further in his face. Except the Doctor mentions children and Laurent has to pause. ]

What age can you serve from here? [ Can, not must. Even he has his limits. ]

In America, you can't serve in the military until you're eighteen. Children as young as six get Ported in.

[ Based on the Doctor's grimace, he is not fond at ALL of children that young being here. ]

Edited 2016-09-05 22:36 (UTC)

[ Six. ]

Surely they are not expected to fight?

They get dragged into this mess as much as us grown-ups do. You've got children gifted with powers, children kidnapped by the Russians, children conscripted into rescue missions.

[ He sits back, his expression thoughtful. He was thirteen when he saw the battle at Marlas, and still he did not fight in it. He had not been a child, but not yet a man. Anything younger than that seems obscene. And still, wars do not care for age nor experience. ]

Then it is the responsibility of their elders to aid them.

[ He can't change the fact that they are brought here to fight. ]

I am aware that this world does not choose to bring us, but they do have use for us. Or do you expect them to feed and house us with no repayment?

I expect them to be competent enough that we're not here to begin with. People have been here for more than three years now. That's long enough to expect a solution. Whereas I'm not entirely sure that the government actually cares about finding a solution in the first place.

It is convenient. Perhaps they do not want their own people fighting for them. I do not see why a king would source an army elsewhere, when it is easier to inspire those he rules, but there must be reasons.

[ Yeah, he just assumes this government you keep talking about is like a council. ]

The reason is that they're idiots.

And have you tried to do something about it?

[ Is the Doctor all talk? ]

Apparently I'm a "disruptive influence"—oh, and unsettled on top of that.

[ you ruin one swear-in..... ]

[ He could tell. ]

You have not registered?

Remember my point about the government being stupid? Reason one right there.

[ he straight up hasn't registered ]

It's an adequate way of keeping track of people. Like a census. How is that idiotic?

[ Doctor, you are so strange. ]

It's idiotic because it's a draft. They drafted us into this universe and into this war without our say and aren't doing anything to try and send us home. I'm being a conscientious objector.

Is that the polite term for coward?

[ It is perhaps too early in his stay to be making enemies but Laurent does not mind it. ]

If not you, then someone else. Those children you so wish to protect, perhaps.

No, it's the polite term for someone who's not going to fight someone else's fight because again, it's stupid.

[ these two are gonna get along GREAT...... ]

I can protect people better on my own anyway.

Can you?

What if someone is injured on the battlefield? A foray, that might I add, you have deemed too idiotic a campaign to follow. How do you protect them there? Do you intend to lurk around the edges like an overgrown carrion bird, cawing about how wrong we are? Or are you all bluster?

[ His smile is not a nice one. ]

Wars happen. You cannot stop that. But nothing is healed through talk.

[ And the Doctor's expression is just calm...though there's a hint of exasperation in his voice. ]

More things are healed through talk than you realize.

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