(Untitled)

[tavar_of_alera]

Last time Tavi was in the Bar, he'd intended to write to his family. Instead he ended up Bartending.

This time, he's bound and determined to actually get those letters written, because it actually is relaxing and keeps it from taking up time at work

Comments

[stealth_bandage]

[OOC: Does Tavi's attire look even remotely like something one would reasonably expect of the Romans, or is he wearing modern Western clothes?]

[tavar_of_alera]

[ Not remotely modern; he looks like he's wearing a Roman-ish tunic with pants and closed boots that could be Germanic or mediaeval influenced. ]

[cutting_edgex23]

X, Security badge pinned to her belt over her left hip, pauses by his table, head tilting very slightly.

Blame the catapult designs. (Or the trebuchet.)

"You are working?"

He could just like the look of them. Though she would be dubious about that sort of answer.

[tavar_of_alera]

When catapult or trebuchet designs are involved, there is no blame. Only awesome.

He looks up, however, and carefully keeps that flash of recognition. Of course, some people smell the exact similarity, some read auras or something--but he tries anyway.

"Yes and no."

He's given that answer before.

"It might be work one day, but I'm just playing with ideas. I know someone who'd be interested."

[cutting_edgex23]

"I am allowed to ask?"

She stays where she is for a few seconds, studying this man that she has met before. Then, movements quick and economical, she takes a seat.

"Who it is."

Beat.

"Or they are from your home?"

[tavar_of_alera]

"Sure."

He shrugs, fluidly.

"For definitions of home. I was asked by a Count on the eastern border for advice on his defenses. Seems to think I might have unconventional solutions. We've been keeping in touch."

Because said Count is his uncle, and said definition is where I was born.

[stealth_bandage]

... huh.

Usually you don't see members of the Legion in anything but their armor. Then again, usually Arcade only sees members of the Legion long after they're already dead.... their slaves, now, that's another story, both in terms of attire and in terms of being alive.

This could be bad. Or not. He's not sure.

"[You're a long way from Caesar's lands, stranger,]" he finally says in Latin. There isn't a Legion slave alive who won't have some form of gut reaction to the sound of the language, whether they actually speak it yet or not.

[tavar_of_alera]

Tavi looks up after a moment, and frowns. Something flashes across his eyes, which narrow ever so slightly.

That is not Aleran (or whatever language the Bar happily translates into the Aleran he is so used to, bar the few idioms he translates to Aleran ones himself).

However, some of the phrases are vaguely familiar--and the name Caesar catches his interest. He heard about Gaius Julius here, from Marcus Antonius in fact, and has read a book written by the same several times over. The pronunciation is odd, too, and after a moment he smiles wryly.

"Sorry--one of the valets says something about what I think you just said--something about Romans? Anyway, that might sound a bit like Old Aleran, but that was at least fifteen hundred years ago, probably."

[stealth_bandage]

Hm. Arcade's no intelligence analyst, but he'd be willing to bet that wasn't the look of someone who recognized Latin. Not a Legion agent, then, or a slave out of Legion lands. Probably for the best.

He relaxes, and says, "My apologies. You resembled some of the people from my side of the door who'd be using the language on a daily basis. I wanted to be certain without being too intrusive."

[tavar_of_alera]

Tavi is an intelligence analyst, and one with informative instincts. The man is worried about something, and tried to be subtle about that digging for information.

A few possibilities flash through his mind. "Really? I've been told time and again I look Roman, and again, one of the valets is known for his theories about them, but I've never been clear on the details."

It's said genially, and with curiosity. It is, after all, half true.