[Introduction] The apocalypse is canceled until I say so

[boysundering]

Inter-dimensional travel was never pretty.  Damian had read reports of being sucked into an alternate reality where everything that didn't matter was the same and the few things that did were altered in some key, disturbing fashion.  And considering his line of work, he had always figured it would only be a matter of time until he experienced the

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[eyrienprince]

Lucivar is engaged in his usual activity. Which is to say, practicing with his Eyrien stick on the front lawn, like a stave but bladed at one end. He moves through the motions with the smooth, graceful ease of long practice, but the most notable thing about him is not the weapon or even his obvious comfort with it, but rather the large, dark bat wings fanned out behind him, moving with him, folding in and spreading to compensate for his balance as he goes through his routines.

[boysundering]

Damian steps out the front door with an apple in one hand and a knife in the other as he carves himself slices to eat. Fascinating. Unlike some of the others he's observed "training," this . . . creature seems to know what he's doing. He does not interrupt but continues to observe the forms.

[eyrienprince]

Nobody better, Lucivar would say, with perfect arrogance. But that's part of how he's lived this long. That, and the arrogance is mostly justified. He was forged hard.

He completes his routine before turning to acknowledge his watcher, wings folding in tight to his body again, and simply regards Damian with a cool stare that does not quite insist that he explain himself, but suggests it might be a good idea.

[boysundering]

Damian stares right back, holding the eye contact easily and meeting the unspoken demand with silence. He will not introduce himself. Others should provide him with their names first. He holds himself above all of these stranded unfortunates, none of whom seem to be doing enough to try and get free.

[eyrienprince]

Lucivar's eyebrows creep up his forehead a little bit before he smooths his expression back to neutral. He's seen that kind of easy insolence before. Wore it himself, once. He vanishes the Eyrien stick and cocks his head to the side. "Finding your observation helpful, boyo?"

Lucivar's answer to that particular objection, of course, would be that he doesn't need to. His family is here. He wouldn't leave them.

[boysundering]

Boyo? Disrespecting imbecile. He will not answer to that moniker. So Damian only narrows his eyes, notes the vanishing, unfamiliar weapon (and he has never yet come across a weapon so unfamiliar to him), and takes a bite from his apple.

[eyrienprince]

Lucivar's eyebrows crept up just a little further, but a moment later his expression was smoothed back to neutral. Which, on him, tended to look a little closer to "pissed off" than "true neutral" but that was...just the way his face fell. No need to bristle. He wouldn't be friendly in the boy's place either.

He calls in a towel, then, wipes his face off with it, and slings it over his shoulder before striding over toward the stairs.

[boysundering]

Damian's eyes follow the appearance and movement of the towel and, as the stranger walks closer, he shifts his posture just slightly. Not defensive, not yet. But ready. He can move from casual to a true fighting stance in an instant. He will not be taken off guard.

[eyrienprince]

Lucivar notes the shift, and pauses, just for a moment, mouth quirking up at one corner. "No need for that, boyo. Finished my routine for the day, not planning on sparring with you unless you ask for it."

[boysundering]

Finally Damian speaks. If only because he respects the stranger for noticing his shift in posture. He has eyes, at least, to go with those ridiculous (terrifying) appendages on his back. "My name isn't /boyo./" He spits the word out with distaste.

[eyrienprince]

"Trust me," Lucivar said, with a just slightly edged smile, "You like 'boyo', it's better than the other names people might give you. Don't get prickly with me, I tend to win those contests. What is your name, then?"

[boysundering]

"No," Damian says stubbornly. "I don't trust you and I don't like that name." So he refuses to give his own in a childish sense of justice. This creature hasn't earned his name.

[eyrienprince]

Lucivar's eyebrows quirk up, and he gives Damian another looking over, and then appears to come to some conclusion of his own. He doesn't back off, but he does shift just slightly to give the impression of being more at ease. Still ready to move into attack at any time, but it's not quite so present. "Fine, then give me a different one to use. I'm Lucivar Yaslana, if that helps. Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih, at least some of the time."