judgementor | [Aefenglom IC Inbox]

[Is it alright!! Is it...

They reach for a tea cup, humming.]

So it’s not something you’ve ever heard of happening? When you summon a Food Soul is it by chance or do you get some say in who’s going to show up?

[How many Food Souls are there, anyways... Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? If they’re all... Named(?) after foods they could be basically endless.

But also...]

Is there a White Wine? Or a Rosé?

Mm... the summoning is usually done with an example of the particular food you're trying to summon the soul of.

[Ah, now that's a question to ask.]

There is a Yellow Wine. We haven't met to any detailed extent, but he's an oaf. [Red Wine has little patience for personalities like the one Yellow Wine has, but he can still only give his first impression of the Soul.]

There is also Chrysanthemum Wine, Realgar Wine, Champagne... and I would imagine many others.

So do Food Souls typically have traits associated with their food? Like, need someone beefy around to do strong guy stuff, better get Steak?

[Or else how do you know who would be a good choice to summon... They also feel a little guilty bringing Steak up, but...

They don’t see the point in acting like he never existed.

They laugh, surprised at Red Wine’s dismissal of Yellow Wine.]

How many Food Souls have you met and actually liked?

[He narrows his eyes slightly and tilts his head, but he doesn't appear to take offence. He also doesn't answer the first question. In part because he doesn't know, and in part because... well, it was indelicate, and he doesn't want to talk about Steak right now.]

I've met enough that I've liked. More that I tolerate.

[And now he has to cast his mind back, because it's been a while...]

There was a time I was closely associated with a young king. A Food Soul, like myself. Turkey. Champagne is a king too, though... of much more reknown. He's a very powerful leader.

[He might just sound like he's gushing a little there, if you squint.]

[Whoops! Now they feel extra guilty, and the look on their face doesn't hide that at all.]

Tolerate is a really low bar...

[They sound amused, and their brow quirks up. Is he... Is he really gushing? Is he a... Turkey and Champagne fanboy? He's too reserved to tell, but...]

What kind of things can Food Souls do? I mean, if you're nigh-immortal spirits you'd think you'd, like, at least be stronger than a regular human or could do magic or something.

[While Bailey isn't entirely correct, they are right on at least one count - Red Wine is, somewhat, a 'Champagne fanboy'. It would be far more obvious were the other Soul in the room with them, but he admires many things about the king and soldier.]

Mm. We're all far more difficult to kill than humans are, and we won't die by ordinary means. What strength we have varies, and some of us can do magic. Some of us are healers. Some can manipulate the minds of our enemies and turn them on one another, or mute their power so they can't use it.

[And Bailey is probably wondering what category Red Wine falls into, so he adds, almost modestly.]

My skill is with a blade. No magic, only the steel in my hand.

[That's cute. Bailey thinks it's cute. Everyone needs to have people they look up to!!]

So it's a mixed bag.

[Which makes sense, they suppose. There are endless possibilities for what a Food Soul could be, which means there must be an endless variety in what they could do.

They cock their head - it's not hard to imagine Red Wine with a sword. They could picture him being a very refined, noble fighter... They're not sure that's correct because he did say he was short-tempered, but... Well. It's their fantasy and they can dream of him being a dashing, charming swordsman all they want.]

Do you still fight, here?

Edited (weh) 2020-09-08 19:29 (UTC)

Mm, though it's not quite the same.

[He huffs out a sigh, letting his eyes close for a moment.]

We had a small mercenary group. Myself, Steak, and another Food Soul called Gingerbread. We would answer calls for help and summons from groups who desired our protection.

[Here... it's not the same, not really. Red Wine presses his lips together.]

I have no desire to lend my sword to the Coven, but if it means protecting the people here, then I will. Otherwise, I do what's needed.

[Their first thought is that that's a terrible combination of foods, like some sort of awful sandwich.

Their second thought is that a roving mercenary band doesn't exactly contradict their image of Red Wine, he's just more of a dashing rogue than a hoity-toity nobleman.]

I see...

[They decide they won't pry into his issues with the Coven, tapping their fingers against their teacup and taking a sip. They look like they're mulling something over.]

...I have a question. It's not about Food Soul stuff, but...

[It's just as well, because Red Wine's issues with the Coven are many and broad-ranging and by the time he finished their tea would probably be cold. He mimics Bailey's movement, taking a small sip of his own tea and making a small face at it.

Just on the wrong side of bitter. Ah, well.]

Go on.

[Though he could probably talk about 'Food Soul stuff' all day, he doesn't think that Bailey actually came here to hear about it.]

[Well. There's no better way to ask than to just blurt it out.]

Could you teach me how to fight?

[They've never learned how - the things they dealt with were more often than not intangible, not something that could be fought with fists or weapons. But life is different here. The monsters are very, very real, and not something that can be reasoned with.

They know that they could ask Sylvia, that she's spent her entire life training how to fight, but... They think Sylvia would probably think it's best if they stay out of the fray.]

[Red Wine blinks.

Of all questions that he thought Bailey would ask, that was not one of them. Still, he doesn't dismiss it outright. He sits up a little straighter, resting both of his forearms on the table.]

I want you to think very carefully about what you're asking me. [He says, the smallest of frown lines furrowing down between his eyebrows.]

What I can teach isn't some noble's sport. If you ask me to teach you how to fight, I will, by virtue of what I know, teach you how to kill. Do you understand that?

[They're quiet for a moment, looking into their tea as if it'll tell them what to say.]

I don't think sport would be very helpful here.

[A pause, as they turn the cup in their hands, frowning. They laugh, but there's no humor in it.]

Besides, I've spent my entire life surrounded by death. Wouldn't be too out of line to cause it.

Seeing death and causing it to happen by your own hand are two very different things.

[His tone has turned very serious. Red Wine has seen a lot of death, but outside of battling Fallen Angels has caused very little of it. He mulls the idea over in his head, but the thought of stealing another shred of innocence away from a person leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.]

I can teach you to defend yourself, first. We'll see if you have skill with a blade easily enough that way.

I know.

[They take another sip of tea, kind of wishing they had put sugar in it. Ah, well.]

But it's better than letting myself get killed.

[Their head bobs in agreement. Defending theirself is a good start, and... They're not sure if they want to be good with a blade or not. Still, there's no backing out, now.]

There are ways to do that that don't involve wading into the fray with a sword in your hand. [The vampire points out wryly, but it doesn't sound like Bailey wants to just stay on the sidelines.]

Why the interest in fighting?

Honestly?

[They frown.]

I'm tired of people getting hurt and not being able to do anything about it. It's not like I can do healing magic and first aid only goes so far, but if my friends are out there and I'm back here it's all a moot point anyways.

[They can't exactly put kiddie leashes on people, even though they'd like to.]

Hm.

[He rests his chin lightly on the heel of his hand again. It's an interesting thought. He's never taught someone to fight before - not properly - though he doesn't have a doubt that he can do it.]

It's going to be hard work. [Red Wine warns.] And I won't make it easy for you. Not if you intend to use what I'm teaching.

[This is either a good idea or an incredibly terrible one, and Bailey's not sure how it's gonna go yet.

They're not going to back down, though.]

I can handle it. [...] Well, hopefully I can handle it. We'll see how things actually go.

[When he reaches out, it's a faintly hesitant thing, but that nervous determination prompts him to move and curl one hand lightly around Bailey's wrist.]

Don't worry about it too much. Wielding a weapon isn't something everyone can do, but we'll find out if you can.

[They blink at the touch, not expecting it. After a moment, they sigh.]

...I don’t want to be useless, though.

You don't need to be in the middle of a fight to be useful.

[He keeps his hand where it is. His skin is noticeably cooler than it was a week ago.]

Who told you that you were useless?

[The look on their face says that they don’t believe that at all.

...And hm. They don’t think that coldness is a good thing.]

Nobody needs to say it for it to be true.

That kind of idea doesn't come from nowhere.

[And he pulls his hand back then, because he can feel the warmth of the faun's skin seeping through their clothes and it only serves to highlight just how cold he is at the moment.

He clasps them around his tea instead.]

Everyone has something to offer.

Mm.

[Maybe some day, Bailey will tell Red Wine, but... It’s not important. It doesn’t really matter, and it’s not like he really wants to know. It’s just common courtesy.

They shrug, taking another sip and finishing their tea.]

I don’t really have anything to offer, though. Anything I can do isn’t exactly something people need or want here or I just can’t do it anymore.

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