middaeg | . life and strength and breath

[Lips parted, Dimitri's jaw shudders in silent response. It's as if the conversation has moved beats ahead of him, but exactly along the trajectory it should have. The realization is both relieving and disorienting.

Dimitri takes the seat mechanically, resting his aching ankle and reeling mind in one motion. He gives himself enough time to exhale, an in that breath wills his muscles to uncoil and his sense of time to right itself.

The attempt is effective enough, and he's soon to take a faux causal grip of his drink and turn to the person he'd interrupted.] Thank you for your understanding.

[Appraising the level of beer left in the other's glass, Dimitri steels himself to follow through on his offer:] I will gladly accompany you, but surely you could use another drink, as well?

When that one is finished, I'll refill your glass. [Diplomatic, more than friendly.] Is that acceptable?

[ Jeez, this guy looks unwell. Chewing on his bottom lip, he forces himself to watch silently instead of bombarding the teen with questions about his health like he wants. Fortunately, it seems as if the blond young man manages to work through whatever is bothering him. Stiles still studies him warily, not out of fear but out of vague concern. ]

Ehh. [ A so-so gesture. ] Maybe? I don’t really like drinking too much. As long as it’s beer, though, I guess it’s okay.

Hey. [ He plants an elbow on the table, leaning forward and squinting at Dimitri with a sudden grin. ] You look kinda young. Should you even be drinking, dude?

[ This, coming from an eighteen year old. ]

You can call me Stiles, by the way.

[The condensation on the outside of Dimitri's glass builds, droplets pooling against his fingers. In such a humid night, he clings to the only source of chilled relief, and that is what drives him to lift the glass and take a drink.

Though most of the foam has diminished, there's enough to rest on his lip after he swallows. Head declined in polite shame, Dimitri covers his mouth as he licks the froth away.]

Stiles. It's nice to meet you. [He's about to apologize for the circumstances of their meeting, but suppressing a small burp takes precedence.] My name is Dimitri.

[Then, with a small smile, he looks between Stiles' drink and his face.] I could say the same to you.

Though I doubt a beer or two is much cause for concern. They seem to be a required part of the festivities. [Thus, his obligation to have one.] Have you been through the stalls?

Edited 2020-07-08 02:17 (UTC)

[ As Dimitri takes a healthy draw from his glass, Stiles watches while absently twirling his own tankard around in clumsy circles on the table. It wobbles dangerously, but somehow doesn’t teeter over. ]

What, the game stalls? [ He scoffs, loudly and dismissively. ] They’re so rigged, it’s a joke. Can’t believe all these idiots are wasting money on those scam artists.

[ A beat as he realizes Dimitri might be one of those “idiots.” ]

I mean, [ he begins, backpedaling. ] the booth setups are pretty convincing. Easy to get tricked. Totally not anyone’s fault. Or a reflection on their intelligence level!

[Patiently, Dimitri waits for Stiles to finish his reassurances. They aren't necessary, and he indicates as much with only a slight wave of his hand.] I tried my hand - the vendors were quite persistent.

[If he pays to throw some rings will you stop yelling at him...??]

Unfortunately, my aim was lacking. Though I'm sure I put enough force behind my throw to shatter the bottles, I ended up breaking through the back of the stall instead. [If it's an attempt at humor, it's a sheepish and awkward one-

He really does feel bad about busting their stuff.] All the same, the sca- [No no, be polite.] The games are a part of the festival's charm, I think.

[And truly, he's unsure.]

[ Upon hearing what happened to the stall that Dimitri had played at, Stiles gives the other teen a thorough, scrutinizing once-over. Monster, probably – though it’s difficult to say here, when there are monster-like Witches running around with animal features. People are from some bizarre dimensions. ]

You can call them scams, y’know. I won’t tell on you. [ Grinning a bit, he takes a drink from his beer. ] You’re right, though. Magic doesn’t exist in my world the way it does here, but even the carnies back home rig the games. Just made it all the sweeter when you finally won and managed to buy a giant, oversized stuffed animal for your best friend because neither of you had girlfriends.

[ TMI? TMI. ]

Anyway! Dimitri…that’s kinda Russian, right? You from Earth?

[With a silent chuckle, Dimitri mimics Stiles's drink. It's nice, having such a casual conversation. Even the reassurance that this is simple chatter is easily given - which Dimitri appreciates more than Stiles could know.

He will remind himself to speak more freely.

Truly, Dimitri tries to follow Stiles's story. He thinks he understands the important part - a struggle against adversary, and the rush of victory. Shared with a friend rather than a romantic interest... and in that way, he can relate.

He's begun to relax, slouching slightly forward in his chair as his fingers rest on the rim of his glass.] I'm sorry, Earth?

I don't recognize that country, nor have I heard of a Russian.

I'm from the continent of Fodlan, specifically the Kingdom of Faerghus. [He omits the whole 'prince' thing in the hopes of keeping things casual.] We do have magic where I'm from, but it's nothing like this. [Not so... all consumptive. No one ever imploded of energy build up back home.]

Huh.

[ To his knowledge, there hasn’t ever been a time when Russia was known as Faerghus or Fódlan. Then again, his expertise definitely isn’t about Earth geography and its history as unrelated to mythology and lore. So, who knows? This guy definitely talks in a painstakingly formal and polite manner that seems to suggest he might be from an older time period – maybe it’s pre-Russia. He just simply struggles to reconcile the idea that a separate world and reality would have a given name in common with Earth. ]

Never heard of ‘em. Earth isn’t a country though – it’s the planet. Uh, the world? The country I’m from is the United States of America. I won’t bore you with that bullcrap though.

[ Dimitri, Fódlan, and the Kingdom of Faerghus. Sounds…oddly romantic, like the setting to a Hallmark movie where an ordinary woman falls in love with a prince. Uh, not that he watches those movies. Hah. ]

“Kingdom” sounds pretty fancy, though. Are you a knight? It totally sounds like a place with knights.

[In true diplomatic consideration, Dimitri commits both Earth and the United States of America to memory. A group of smaller territories all functioning as one isn't a foreign concept - he likens it to the Alliance he knows and refrains from delving into political inquries.

They're supposed to be just chatting, after all, not giving one another boring history lessons. A sentiment Stiles echoes the moment Dimitri thinks it-

He smiles, hand sliding down to the base of his glass. More comfortable, and it's strange not sitting with a rigid back and sipping tea or wine, but... he's enjoying himself. Even with a slight tickling in his cheeks. (The beer has come on much faster than wine ever has.)

A knight, huh? Dimitri can't help a chuckle.] It is a place with knights. I have a good deal of training in their ways, yes - several knights were in charge of my tutelage when I was younger.

[Wait, he's trying to keep the prince thing on the dl.] What about you? What... have you studied? [He speaks too quickly, and senses his question is odd - dull? - too late. All Dimitri can do is offer a small wince in apology after the fact.]

[ The question does strike Stiles as odd, if only because of the attention Dimitri draws to it inadvertently. Naturally, this kindles his curiosity. Stiles scrutinizes the blond closely, trying to discern why the young man was in such a rush to change the subject. The possibility that his conversational partner is a prince remains furthest from his mind; he wouldn’t have the personal context to understand why Dimitri is trying to keep it secret in a place where it’s irrelevant. Instead, perhaps a bit too creatively, Stiles begins concocting a wild story where Dimitri has bad blood with the knights who once taught him. ]

Um… The basics, I guess? I’m in high school. [ Realizing this likely means nothing to Dimitri, he hurriedly presses on. ] High school is the final stage of general education, for kids fourteen to eighteen. After high school, we can choose to advance our education in a particular field through college. Which is probably more interesting to talk about, since it’ll give you a better sense of who I am.

[ A pause. Stiles fiddles with his own beer. ]

I wanna join the FBI – the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It’s a form of law enforcement, dealing with intelligence and security. You guys got anything similar to it in your world?

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