Oh, it is the other one greeting people this week.
Teja walks up and nods to Miniver. He's used to turning up for those weekly meetings, getting tea, talking to one or two attendant and then going away without any unseemly soul-baring, now.
Of course he has the axe -- Teja never goes anywhere without it, just as he will always wear armour, except when working in the forge, or in his bath or bed.
"This place is as interesting as it was," he says. "I was told of actual descendants of my people that still come here. It is good to know."
"A musician," Teja says. "It's a musician who claims that, and one of his fellow musicians who told me. They use traditions hearkening back to my time, even. I saw some in my vision, the first night I had my room - young men in a barn in Gotland, making loud wild music that still echoed my dirge!"
From his tone of voice, Teja is really proud of it.
"Ah. My boyfriend," Miniver notes casually, grinning. "He musta been talking about that spazzy blonde guy. Yeah, I'd believe that. Toki and I tye-dyed his room in Mordhaus. He went batshit and set it on fire. It was fabulous. Yeah, I've believe he's descended from someone who carries around an axe as big as that and knows how to use it."
More pause, while Teja thinks. Wolfmen, shapeshifters and sorcerers freely admit to what they are, in this place, as do fauns and purple gods that are -- are nithings that way. But ordinary men, that are neither goat-footed nor purple?
Teja suspects that, if wolfmen are respected and allowed to do their thing in peace, so would these be.
More pause, while Teja gets his thoughts back to what he was talking about.
"He would not be my own descendant, as I had none," he finally says. "But he might well be one of any of my friends -- of cousin Aligern, my shield-bearer Wachis, or my cup-bearer, Adalgoth."
One in his vision had looked rather like Aligern when they'd been young.
"Yeah," Miniver reittertes clearly but gently, "my lover. That's allowed here. And in later times." And he's gotten over being apologetic about it. Though he does fidget a little. Because, you know, big axe, occasional tendence for people to cause harm to others based solely on sexual preference... he's been there.
"So this... this vision. What'd it look like? You've never met a tall blonde guy named Skwisgaar, have you?"
Teja is still recovering from his surprise, but he would certainly not harm anybody, outright, that has not offered offence to him personally.
"That is the man your" - pause - "friend said I should look out for; with a guitar?" he says. "No, I haven't seen him, so I don't know if he was one from my vision, or indeed the one that looked a bit like my cousin Aligern."
"Pickles comes here from two different times. Sometimes he comes here from 1994, and he's 25. Sometimes he comes in here from like 20 years in the future. I spoke to future-Pickles and tricked him into giving it away." Grin. "But he and Toki won't tell me anything more than that we're still together."
So these -- people -- even achieve some perpetuity to their -- relationships? Teja still feels disoriented, as if the laws of men and nature were shifting as he was standing on them.
"I do not know which version of the red-headed drummer it was that I spoke to," Teja says. "It might have been the later one, as he was most surely not twenty-five. He said something about a book, a magical book of music from the land of the wild Fenni that he was given?"
Miniver nods. "He had that thing a long time ago. I think. I don't really know anything about it. Something happens with it in about five years from where I am in LA."
Teja walks up and nods to Miniver. He's used to turning up for those weekly meetings, getting tea, talking to one or two attendant and then going away without any unseemly soul-baring, now.
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"This place is as interesting as it was," he says. "I was told of actual descendants of my people that still come here. It is good to know."
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From his tone of voice, Teja is really proud of it.
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"What'd this musician look like? I know a number of those around here."
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Pause.
Pause.
More pause, while Teja thinks. Wolfmen, shapeshifters and sorcerers freely admit to what they are, in this place, as do fauns and purple gods that are -- are nithings that way. But ordinary men, that are neither goat-footed nor purple?
Teja suspects that, if wolfmen are respected and allowed to do their thing in peace, so would these be.
More pause, while Teja gets his thoughts back to what he was talking about.
"He would not be my own descendant, as I had none," he finally says. "But he might well be one of any of my friends -- of cousin Aligern, my shield-bearer Wachis, or my cup-bearer, Adalgoth."
One in his vision had looked rather like Aligern when they'd been young.
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"So this... this vision. What'd it look like? You've never met a tall blonde guy named Skwisgaar, have you?"
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"That is the man your" - pause - "friend said I should look out for; with a guitar?" he says. "No, I haven't seen him, so I don't know if he was one from my vision, or indeed the one that looked a bit like my cousin Aligern."
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"In twenty years? You know what you are doing in twenty years?"
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"I do not know which version of the red-headed drummer it was that I spoke to," Teja says. "It might have been the later one, as he was most surely not twenty-five. He said something about a book, a magical book of music from the land of the wild Fenni that he was given?"
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Miniver nods. "He had that thing a long time ago. I think. I don't really know anything about it. Something happens with it in about five years from where I am in LA."
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