"Well, it wasn't long after that when my people started talking about war with the vampaneze, which seemed crazy to me. We'd just very clearly seen the horrors that war had inflicted on humans and now we were considering having our own? I wouldn't stand for it, so I made it my mission to counter the vampires rallying for battle, to find out as much about our blood cousins as I could and try and make peace with them before my people had the chance to do something stupid. I was doing that right up until the day I met you, that was my purpose, and then.... well.... it all went tits up..." Which was the nicer way of saying 'I was brutally executed and spent decades in hell'.
Now Kurda thought about it he wondered what his purpose was now. He couldn't continue with helping his clan for obvious reasons, so he supposed he'd sort of made Dean his purpose, which was an odd thought.
"And it going tits up was how you ended up in the Lake." He finishes. He shakes his head. "And people can't understand why there's days I wonder why we freaking bother." For you it was war with your blood cousins and being killed, for him it was saving the world and just losing everything in the process.
Kurda just sighed, "I don't blame them for what happened to me you know. I knew how it might end when I decided to go through with it, and if I'd succeeded then people would have died.... more people than already did. I don't regret what I tried to do, but I'm not bitter about the way it turned out."
"Really? Not even a little bit bitter?" He gives you a look. Then he rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. "I'll say it again: Mr. Way-too-healthy-for-life. creepy."
Kurda couldn't let himself be even a little bitter - if he got angry about all the shit hands he'd been dealt in life then he probably would have ended up killing himself. "It's a self preservation thing," he confessed, and he wasn't quite sure why he'd admitted it.
When it all came down to it, he wasn't so different from Dean.
"Oh." Okay, he hadn't really been expecting that as a response.
The rest of the journey passes a bit more easily on Dean's end, if not so deeply, and after the third day, a bit restlessly. But he's never done well at having to stay in one place for too long, especially not when confined to one area. But he's definitely better than when they left, and infinitely relieved when the boat docks. He also does manage to keep Kurda away from the kitchen, finding someway to distract him if he starts trying to be 'helpful' and trying to ease some of his discomfort if he got seasick.
When they land, he just nudges Kurda a little. "Glad to have your feet back on dry land, huh?"
By the time they docked in England Kurda was so relieved he could have fallen to the ground and kissed it. Everything he'd eaten in the past few days had made a reappearance at some point and he was going stir-crazy stuck in the same space for so long. "You have no idea," he sighed. Kurda shrugged his hiking pack onto his back, said goodbye to Aidan and the crew, and then headed out of the port. "Breakfast?"
"I think I have some idea." He grins. After all, he's the same after a plane journey. Only he has almost full-blown panic attacks on the plane rather than some vomiting...
"Breakfast sounds good. I was going to get a ... 'full english'...? last time I was here. but I was told we didn't have time."
"That sounds like a plan, I'll have one too. There's a few cafe's just down the street."
Kurda felt better to be home already - for him there never would be anything quite like the smell of English air. It relaxed him immediately, and he could feel the stress of travel just melting away as he made his way down the street towards a quaint little cafe with hanging baskets lining the front window.
It's pretty much all new to Dean, considering the last time he was here was years ago and even then there was no time for sightseeing Just do the job and get out. so he's trying to relax, but pretty sure he'll do that later. Mostly, he's just taking everything in at the moment, trying to mentally map out the streets around them, note places that he can see that could be used as reference points, and just generally orientate himself.
At the sight of the quaint little cafe with the hanging baskets outside, he notes it, expecting to pass it.... until he realises they're going in. At which point he slows to a stop and curves an eyebrow. "Really?" That's all he says. But he starts going in anyway. It's more a 'They'd better not all be like this...' kind of 'Really'.
"What's wrong with this?" Kurda asked, confused. "It looks lovely."
He headed inside and sat down at a table with a vase of daffodils in the centre and laminated breakfast and dinner menus wedged into a cat shaped menu holder.
"It looks lovely to an eighty year old woman." He states, gesturing at the cat-shaped menu holder. He can't believe he's even agreeing to eat here. Hell, who laminates a menu?!
...And he can't help but think that Sam would probably kind of like it here. But the thought is not a source of stabbing pain like it had been before. Well, not so much, at least. Nothing he wouldn't give for Sam to be here with them right now. even for a day. But he's trying to not think about that as he knows he can't. So.
"Hell, who puts daffodils on a table?" At least he's speaking quietly?
"It gives it a cosey feel," Kurda insisted. "And when so much care is taken in the appearance of a cafe it's likely that as much care is taken in the food as well. "
Kurda looked through the menu and was overjoyed to see traditional English food, he'd missed it a lot. Toad in the hole, shepherd's pie, steak and ale pie...
"'Cosy'". He repeats. "You sound like an eighty year old woman, too." He's only mostly teasing. You kind of do.
He turns his attention to the menu. And that toad in the hole? Catches his attention. In all the wrong ways. How is that even meant to sound appetising? That steak and ale pie sounds good. but. "there's the breakfast. Ill have that and extra bacon... but coffee insted of tea." He'll stick to safe food for now. He can experiment later.
Kurda muttered something about Dean and emotional constipation, but then an elderly waitress came over and asked them what they wanted. Kurda went for a hot chocolate and a fried breakfast in the end and gave the woman Dean's order as well. "With extra bacon if that's alright, we'll pay extra of course." The woman looked a bit puzzled by that as though it were an odd request, but then nodded and shuffled away.
"So, where do you want to go first once we've eaten?"
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Which was the nicer way of saying 'I was brutally executed and spent decades in hell'.
Now Kurda thought about it he wondered what his purpose was now. He couldn't continue with helping his clan for obvious reasons, so he supposed he'd sort of made Dean his purpose, which was an odd thought.
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"It's a self preservation thing," he confessed, and he wasn't quite sure why he'd admitted it.
When it all came down to it, he wasn't so different from Dean.
Reply
The rest of the journey passes a bit more easily on Dean's end, if not so deeply, and after the third day, a bit restlessly. But he's never done well at having to stay in one place for too long, especially not when confined to one area. But he's definitely better than when they left, and infinitely relieved when the boat docks. He also does manage to keep Kurda away from the kitchen, finding someway to distract him if he starts trying to be 'helpful' and trying to ease some of his discomfort if he got seasick.
When they land, he just nudges Kurda a little. "Glad to have your feet back on dry land, huh?"
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"You have no idea," he sighed.
Kurda shrugged his hiking pack onto his back, said goodbye to Aidan and the crew, and then headed out of the port.
"Breakfast?"
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"Breakfast sounds good. I was going to get a ... 'full english'...? last time I was here. but I was told we didn't have time."
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Kurda felt better to be home already - for him there never would be anything quite like the smell of English air. It relaxed him immediately, and he could feel the stress of travel just melting away as he made his way down the street towards a quaint little cafe with hanging baskets lining the front window.
Reply
At the sight of the quaint little cafe with the hanging baskets outside, he notes it, expecting to pass it.... until he realises they're going in. At which point he slows to a stop and curves an eyebrow. "Really?" That's all he says. But he starts going in anyway. It's more a 'They'd better not all be like this...' kind of 'Really'.
Reply
He headed inside and sat down at a table with a vase of daffodils in the centre and laminated breakfast and dinner menus wedged into a cat shaped menu holder.
Reply
...And he can't help but think that Sam would probably kind of like it here. But the thought is not a source of stabbing pain like it had been before. Well, not so much, at least. Nothing he wouldn't give for Sam to be here with them right now. even for a day. But he's trying to not think about that as he knows he can't. So.
"Hell, who puts daffodils on a table?" At least he's speaking quietly?
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Kurda looked through the menu and was overjoyed to see traditional English food, he'd missed it a lot. Toad in the hole, shepherd's pie, steak and ale pie...
Reply
He turns his attention to the menu. And that toad in the hole? Catches his attention. In all the wrong ways. How is that even meant to sound appetising? That steak and ale pie sounds good. but. "there's the breakfast. Ill have that and extra bacon... but coffee insted of tea." He'll stick to safe food for now. He can experiment later.
Reply
"With extra bacon if that's alright, we'll pay extra of course."
The woman looked a bit puzzled by that as though it were an odd request, but then nodded and shuffled away.
"So, where do you want to go first once we've eaten?"
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