"Wo chet. This bit about th'vroo seems t'be—"


"An' I'd never force anyone t'do—"


Tristaan bristled, visibly, eyes narrowing only slightly. Whether or not this Viator had scrubbed floors together with Wendy in Brunnhold or their friendship ran deeper than that, the swordsman didn't know. What he did know is that Viator hadn't been in Petra's kint when his arm was broken, hadn't been there to see things get out of control, and hadn't had to deal with any of the aftermath.

"Look, I ent ever seen th'insides of that school it seems both of you grew up in, if my guessin' ent far off, so I ent got th'fear of a bit o'vroo. It ent a proper reaction, ne, but ... speaking of which, I do believe that Petra found it her place t'cast first. I see now that part was fine because it wasn't directed at you, Wendy. Just me. It was her way of protectin' you, an' if you could pause an' look at what was happenin', you might could see that someone was simply tryin' t'stand up for me."

He ran his right hand through his hair, impatient, "I ent gonna justify anyone's actions; it ent my job. Y'can't speak for someone's character because y'don't know 'em. It ent your place to tell me who Sarinah is, anymore than it was her place to tell me who you were. Y'know how it feels enough already, an' it ent fair, is it?"

Tristaan shrugged. A dismissive gesture. He had just wanted to make things better, but somehow it felt as though he had made things worse. He hovered, disappointed, trying to decide whether he was done here or if anything was worth salvaging.

The swordsman turned and let his gray eyes fall on Viator, "It ent gonna be a problem, because I ent gonna be th'one t'make it."

Wendy had hid her face completely in Viator's chest when Tristaan started speaking, holding on tighter. He was right, of course. When he addressed Viator Wendy looked up, "I said I was sorry, okay?" Her voice was tight, "If you don't want to go to the stupid contest that's fine! I don't care! Stop yelling at me though!"

She glared at him, "And if you don't want to accept my apology that's fine too! I didn't mean what I said, okay? I say things sometimes. I lost my temper! Sorry!" She held on tighter to Viator.

"Aw, clock it." Tristaan grunted, realizing in his frustration he'd made a mistake and talked too much. In his attempt to make things better, he'd only succeeded in rubbing salt in the wound. The swordsman hadn't thought he was yelling, so much as explaining. His voice grew pained and quiet, "Y'ent got anythin' t'be sorry for. I'm jus'standin' here puttin' my foot in my mouth, I see. Look, I didn't mean t'upset you. Epameo."

It was a struggle to be happy to be here on Surwood after everything in Old Rose. There'd been more difficulties than he'd expected, and all of them were difficulties that couldn't be solved with the sword or a quick bullet.

"I just was wantin' t'make things better instead of worse."

"Aye. Not me, either." Living ship-side for a decade had allowed Viator to observe male power-play time and time again. If he didn't always feel that adrenaline rush from making some buckoe turn tail, he always enjoyed the affirmation of masculinity.

From above Wendy's blue hair, indigo eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. His body tensed. He swallowed, and, like always, the persona pulled out the adrenaline. So what if Tristaanian didn't consider him a 'man.' Gender was meaningless, in the end.


That was quite enough. Pausing only long enough to disentangle Wendy's arms from him, and get her to loop them about his neck, Viator scooped the girl up without much ado. His Wendy was upset, he wanted her out of there.

"C'mon lassie, we'll get ye back to th'kint and I'll make us bilge stew." He lightly placed the tip of his nose on the crown of her head before staring to move off.


Viator shrugged, unwilling to let the other man phase him anymore. "Well, least on my end, apology accepted. But I'ma get my lil'lassie t'food. I'd say twas a pleasure, but I ent much for fibbin, so I'll say this; tis been interestin'." He nodded once out of politeness. If Wendy wanted him to put her down so they could make up, she would say something. Otherwise, he was headed off.

"Via!" Wendy protested with a squeak as he picked her up. "I can walk, you know!"

Of course she she really wanted to get down she would have made him but for now she didn't care enough.



"I gu-ess..."



"He wasn't apologizing to you, jerkface!" Wendy spat without any real malice and climbed until her hands were on his shoulder and her face was peeking out over it as well, "You're okay Tristaan. I'll see you tomorrow at noon, if you still want to be the judge!" She called out loudly, straight into Viator's ear. Revenge was hers!

"And if he doesn't want to be the judge you'll have to do it Via." She said in a more reasonable tone of voice and managing to scramble out of his hands. She kicked him when she was on the ground and stuck out her tongue, "I can walk," she repeated and poked him before skipping away, glancing behind to make sure he was following.