Closed [The Drunken Fish]A Bottle Brewed[Caspian]

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz tried to puzzle out what the man was saying, but was still confused by everything he said about the garbage bins. He felt he kind of got a bit of what he was saying... But no, in the end, he really did not understand. Either there was some deep disconnect between the two of them, or the man was just lying and making stuff up.

"What? I have no idea what you are saying. How is trash the same as food? Most of what I've trashed today was like... Scales and bones and stuff. Peels. How would that tell you anything about the food I didn't throw in the trash? Whatever, it doesn't matter... I just have no idea what your saying."

An odd idea did strike Moritz then, as to the unclear reason why Caspian was sitting with someone who was eating and raving about the food, but was not himself eating. But then some people did just come to drink, oddly enough, though he did not see many locals actually come to this place. Almost anyone here was a foreigner like him, partly due to where the place was. Lots of sailors or other people passing by for a night at port, not locals who lived and worked here in the city. Though Caspian had said he was living here, so did he count as a foreigner or not?

Regardless he was fairly certain by this point Caspian was not telling him something, even if some of what he said was true. Though which bits were which, he could not say.

At the mention of parenting Moritz smiled, wondering how his own upbringing came up against Caspian. Of course even thinking about that was tricky, since so much of it involved magic.

"Parents, at the end they are just people. I'll be honest, for my part I'm not sure I really know much of my mothers own strategy for parenting, or if she had one. So I can't say I can really compare things there. Honestly I'm not even sure I can say she really raised me. More so I guess I was raised by a... Somewhat odd, non-verbal third party who was friendly with my mother. Though they could not speak, they did have a knack for getting things across by their actions."

Smiling at his own words and descriptors Moritz wondered how to even begin explaining things if he wanted to, seeing as he was mostly raised by a sentient building infused with magic which he had no direct way of communicating with, but made actions like opening doors or changing rooms or such.

As before Moritz seemed to be speaking about weighty topics, quite serious ones, but at the same time found the entire thing a bit odd and funny, beginning by laughing to himself out loud.

"Honestly though, I did not even make it to Sunberth for that, so I cannot even blame the city! Though blemishes, not really sure I'd call it that. Mostly I just felt... Annoyed. At myself. Not for doing it, since I felt it was in need of doing... But in that I wasn't more bothered by it. I didn't really feel anything afterwords... Though admittedly, there was a lot going on... Do you recall the first time you killed? How you felt? Although, well my case might be a bit too odd even for your consideration of the word weird. I mean I did end up... Well, lets just say it was... Complicated."

Giggling to himself a bit and shaking his head at how understated the word complicated was, Moritz tried to let his mind move on. But really... He had killed the man, and for good reason as he had helped attack his caravan... Enslaving and killing many people.... And then the next day, he had ended up killing the exact same man in a different way, along with some others. And yet once the rage that had fueled his actions had cleared... he had felt, nothing. That, was what bothered him the most. Well that and the feeling of dying...

"Lets just say... On the way to here, while traveling... I had a... Lets say... Particularly long day. I would say there was not much I did not experience then. Kind of odd how experiencing something like that can make you reconsider your viewpoints."

Dying. Killing. Losing a hand, being maimed and killed... Fighting to live.... And dying anyways. And then killing and dying some more. How unfazed by it all Moritz was, seemed odd to the Kelvic. Should he be more upset? Shouldn't he be traumatized or something? Instead he just felt... Enlightened a bit... But also, mostly unchanged.

"Death... Death is not fun. Its not easy. When Death comes for me I will struggle and fight tooth and nail to keep alive. But I think once it comes and is decided, I will embrace it. Its funny, until someone tries to kill you, until you die, you don't really know how you will react to it. I guess if nothing else, I've learned that. But also... I think its made me respect it more. How serious passing it out is. Still though, you speak of evidence... But none of that is actually evidence. Its just you saying things one sidedly. That isn't how evidence works. But in the end, even you say you don't think the man deserves Death... Which makes me think either you don't think the crimes are that bad, or you aren't giving me the whole picture if that is your desired recourse rather than Death..."

The topic of weighty things made sense to Moritz, but was not something he had experienced himself.

"I don't know I've ever really felt that weight myself, the one you are speaking of. Or that I've lost some part of myself by an action. But then, I only have killed when I had to, and when it was deserved. What do you have to feel weighted by, if you had to, and if it was needed and right? Or did you kill when it wasn't needed, right, or deserved?"

In the end Caspian finally seemed to speak the truth, explaining what he was really doing here. Moritz however was not really surprised when he heard it, likely because a small part of him had already worked it out. Poisoning or sickening... That did fit with his actions which he had tried to explain away.

"Mmmm... My answer to that... Is no. No, I won't be doing that, or turning a blind eye to it. If you want to kill someone, that is your business, and you can do it on your own time and grounds. But if you want to pervert one of my dishes, something I have staked my name to and which would be besmirched by any befouling... Then my answer is no. I am a cook. I am paid to make food. Part of that is to make actual food. And anything coming out of this kitchen is connected to my name. Even if others don't abide by that trust, I don't plan to break it. Not today, or any other day. At least not while I'm still serving as a cook."

Smiling at the man he ponders things, keeping him in his eyesight so he can see if he moved to do anything, but otherwise keeping his body and bare hands and limbs calm. No weapon, or sign of aggression. He did not make any moves or tensing, no signs of attack, instead calming his body to the opposite of that. If he needed to he could snap back to action, just as he had seen his masters in combat do, but at the moment he was loose and unintimidating, not showing any signs of aggression or intent to anything.

"Since last we spoke... I have been up to quite a lot. I've traveled. I've been places. I've left my home and people I was comfortable with, several times. I've fought. I've had fun. I've seen fear and pain. I've killed. I've felt the pain of death. Of the two, I think I prefer the former. I've lived through quite complicated times, especially of late, since we last spoke. What about you Caspian? What have you been up to? What have you become from the trials of times passing. Hmmm?"

WC: 1,400

[Caspian]

x

At Moritz’s comments on parenting, Caspian bursts out laughing. It’s short but genuine, and comes from down in his gut, which is a place he doesn’t often access these days. Unless the cause was the very one they’ve been discussing, which was unplanned gastrointestinal distress. “A somewhat odd, nonverbal third party friendly with your mother?” he repeats. “Gods, that does sound a lot like my stepfather. Though I suppose he isn’t odd, necessarily. By Sunberth standards, he would be unusual if he didn’t put his underage wards to work in circumstances that could have them swinging from the gallows. And he did speak, though it was only from time to time. And it always counted. Interesting how some people can shake a room with only the fewest of syllables.” Conspicuously different behavior from his own.

But on the topic of murder.

“I… don’t think there’s any wholly right or wrong way to feel about something,” Caspian says. The mood’s shifted to a more somber one, and that ale he’d drank feels further away. Such a conversation may not have been possible when Moritz was younger. So much has changed, it seems, and in a relatively short amount of time. “I’m speaking very generally. I think if you, I don’t know, snatched a puppy out of a child’s arms and snapped its neck right in front of her, it would be strange if you didn’t feel a little remorse. But perhaps that’s not a fair example; why would one find oneself in such a situation anyway? One imagines one always has a reason. That’s a thing I do believe, Moritz; even if I can’t understand why the next person chooses to do any one thing, I try not to begrudge them for it. I think there are explanations for the decisions we actively make. It’s not their fault I don’t have the context to fully comprehend it. And it can be difficult, I think, to ascribe more value to one reason and call it worthier than another, so on that note I feel – very generally speaking, again – that all reasons bear legitimacy. This doesn’t stop me from disagreeing with an action, but I can at the very least empathize with it. Alright, sorry, I’ve gone off the deep end. All this to say – whatever your reasons for killing this person or people, I believe that you – especially you – have some grounds for justifying it.”

He’s still leaning against the crates, but he’s speaking more directly now, the casual air he had cultivated now dissipated. “As for not feeling anything. I can’t say whether that will hold for you forever. These sorts of things – ah, they sometimes have a way of rearing their heads again later on. One never properly forgets. But we’re all different! So, who knows.”

The reticence Moritz expresses towards ruining the food is no shock. Nor does it offend him. “No, you’re right, your name does matter. Especially with your being new here. Although it’s just as possible he could blame it on whatever rank hovel he supped at this morning instead! Ah, that’s too bad, Moritz. I thought for a moment that my running into someone I knew would benefit me here. But I realize it complicates things, that I might make a friend’s day harder than it ought to be.” Taking advantage of strangers just goes down easier.

When Moritz asks in turn where Caspian has been since they last saw each other, he searches for the courteous answer; the quick one; the synopsis that could do perform the herculean task of encompassing Shell Cottage, fleeing Zeltiva, the man he had strangled while he’d been drugged higher than the stars.

But that’s not very light fare, so instead he draws out the chain around his neck, showing Moritz the golden ring dangling there that had been pressed against his heart.

“Well, almost got married! Tricky thing, though. Both people have to want it, or it doesn’t carry through,” he says, with more cheer than he truly feels. He wonders if Moritz has ever been in love. Which ought to come first, in the development of a person? That, or experiencing an astounding level of violence, as they’d been discussing.

And he might have given Moritz a couple more bright and sparkling details about the whole affair, but one of the waitresses pokes her head in.

“’ey – customer’s lookin’ fer soup? Says he ordered it a while ago.”

Ah. Yes. And they had been standing and chatting for quite some time.

x

[Moritz Craven]

While Moritz own laughter was more to himself, at things he found funny about what he had said or not said, it seemed Caspian's laughter was more towards what Moritz was saying. Which, the Kelvic had to admit to himself, he did not overly mind. If others found things funny... Well, there was no real harm in that. Plus it was nice to see a bit of joy on the mans face, which the Kelvic realized he had not seen much of.

From what he said after laughing though it seemed to indicate sending off children to do crimes was not too uncommon in Sunberth, even sending small children to do things that might end with them dying... Not so nice. But it appeared to be common in Sunberth, and was just accepted.

From those more comical topics filled with even a bit of laughter, they turned to more serious things, drawing the flat grey back to Caspian's visage which seemed to be more of the sort of what Moritz was used to seeing on him. Honestly though he did not overly take anything Caspian had said personally. He kind of got why he was doing what he was doing, or trying to, even if he did not agree with it. He was more annoyed at him butting into his work space, than anything else. Saying no to his request was good enough to settle things in that regard, assuming he did not press on with that request.

Wondering now on the philosophy of things, which seemed to be what Caspian was speaking on, Moritz shrugged.

"I'm sure there would be a case where its happened, in all the oddities of the world. Maybe it wasn't really a puppy, but a thing pretending to be a puppy, and if you didn't kill it then it would eat the child. Or some other weird thing. I try to avoid ruling out anything as impossible if it could possibly happen. And I've seen enough weird things to know a lot of weird things are possible."

Caspian seemed to be arguing, as best Moritz could understand, that both everything was relative and that everyone had a reason for doing what they did. Of course, he knew, just because he felt it made sense did not mean it would make sense to anyone else... And the same applied to others, just because others thought it made sense did not mean it would make sense to him.

When Caspian then turned to marriage Moritz became a bit confused, unclear from his words why he had not ended up married if he tried. He did wonder on that, but seeing as they were interrupted Moritz did not have a chance to ask further clarifying things.

Waving his hand Moritz addressed the waitress coming in, assuring them as best he could.

"Ah yeah, I will have it out shortly. I just ran into an old acquaintance, but he's just leaving."

That seemed enough for the woman, who nodded and headed out, but if he took too much longer someone would surely come back.

Once the woman left Moritz looked around, before waving at Caspian as well.

"Alright, I've got to get back to work. Go poison someone at another establishment, just not mine. But hey, once I'm off work, swing by. Maybe we can chat more, or spar a bit if you know a good place to roll around without getting hurt. Not sure what all you know about such things, but seems like you could afford to brush up. Maybe if you knew a bit more, you wouldn't need to be so sneaky about dealing with stuff."

WC: 611

[Caspian]

x

”But he’s just leaving.”

As with many things about Moritz, the candidness of the statement amuses and warms the hell out of him. So that’s another thing Moritz has learned while they’ve been apart, it seems – some modicum of social maneuverability. Though Caspian has to wonder if it had been an intentional gesture, a graceful way to inform Caspian that he ought to take his own exit and with some dignity attached, or Moritz had truly and simply got it into his head that Caspian was leaving and the statement was one of fact, no etiquette involved. Moritz and subtlety; next he’ll come home to find out his sister dressed in pink frills.

Caspian shoots Moritz one last look, a pointedly raised eyebrow when the matter of the soup is addressed again. But – no, that ship has sailed, never even docked at Caspian’s harbor. Though he’s not even that far ahead of the moment he already feels himself reflectively looking back, and yes, hoping Moritz would ever go along with the plan presents itself rather clearly as something in vain.

“Sure. I think there’s a yard not too far from here we could tumble around in. You’re also welcome to come by and see me at my stepfather’s house, if you don’t mind rolling into Daggerhand territory. Actually – hah, never mind, let’s not do that. Gods know he’ll disown me and adopt you on the spot, just to prove a point.” After Caspian utters those words, even he isn’t entirely sure how much of that had been a joke. “Sneakiness is in the blood, my friend, but I agree. I don’t think it would be a bad idea at all. Anyway. I’ll be off! You have a good evening, now, Moritz.” And he rolls the r and the z with playful exaggeration, the same way he had the first time they met.

The difference in temperature once he steps back into the tavern proper is a stark one. Gone are the steam and the coals and the clatter, and Caspian reflexively shoves his hands into his coat pockets as he passes through. On his right is Donnie, still waiting for his soup. That’s a second tankard of ale empty beside him. If he’s hungry enough to have asked the waitress about his order, then had he thrown back two drinks on an empty stomach? Not enough to drop a fully grown man, but it’s an advantage Caspian takes note of, one that’s relevant in the circumstances he’s presently in, which is that he hasn’t taken care of his Donnie problem, and without Moritz’s compliance it’s now looking like the solution is the one he was least interested in pursuing.

But he still has some time. Hasn’t made a decision quite yet – or has he? His thoughts have rearranged and coalesced enough that on his way out, he hangs a quick right. Waits in the alley.

Looks up at the moon.

Then back at the door.

Lights his tobacco pipe as he waits for Donnie to come through.

x