Mi Comida es tu Comida [Moonie]

[Paladienne]

Dekval sighed to himself as he pulled on his shoes and jacket, standing from his couch and palming his com as he headed toward the door. He made sure he had everything he needed for a short night out, and then glanced around his apartment. Did he really want to go out? Everyone on the chat had agreed that he ought to, before it had escalated into something really weird. Besides, sitting unmoving in his apartment didn’t really seem like a great idea anymore. At least out in Ryun, he could maybe work off some energy and somehow stave off getting caught in one of his sleepless cycles.

As he headed toward the door, his com buzzed. He looked at it as he pulled the door open and stepped out, locking it behind him. Bransen... Bransen... Oh. Yeah. Dekval remembered now. Bransen had recently moved to Ryun and he’d suggested a restaurant for him to try.

Dekval frowned slightly at the message on his screen. No, he probably wasn’t imagining the annoyed tone with which he read Bransen’s text. It was his fault, after all, that Bransen couldn’t find the place. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with directions, had he? Of course, flip side was, Bransen hadn’t exactly asked for directions either.

But as the one offering the information, Dekval should’ve provided that, rather than letting the man flounder. Of course, Dekval hadn’t actually expected Bransen to take him up on the suggestion. The fact that he had actually surprised the Raven.

Wonderful. He probably thinks you’re an idiot now. Dekval sighed.

So he answered, I’m on my way out. Planned on going there, so I can show you where it is.

Alright.

DM where you’re at. I’ll find you.

Yeah, okay.

Dekval continued out of his building as he waited for Bransen’s text to come in. When it did, Dekval recognized the location. It was a little stand on one of the main streets along the waterfront. Actually not too far from where they both wanted to be. It would still take him a little while to get there, though, which would allow him time to formulate exactly what he would say to Bransen. Definitely apologize for not giving him clearer directions. Apologize for making the start of his night terrible. Offer to make it up to him. There was a little twist of butterflies in Dekval’s stomach, though. He was meeting a complete stranger at the whim of his fingers meeting keys, which was something he never really did. His was a limited circle of friends, and he knew how to deal with his friends. He didn’t know how to deal with a stranger that he’d offered something to first. It always was the other way around.

Dekval scrubbed his free hand through his brown hair and pressed his palm to the white spot he usually kept hidden. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaled deeply, then dropped his hand and continued moving. No sense in being nervous. All he was doing was showing someone the place they were looking for, no more, and no less. He’d show Bransen the place and they’d go their separate ways.

The young Raven finally reached the location Bransen had given him and stepped off to the side to get out of the way of the nighttime crowd while he looked for the person he was supposed to meet.

Scanning over the throng of people, Dekval finally focused on the most likely candidate for ‘Bransen’. A tall man standing somewhat separate from the crowd, his eyes also following the movement of the people around him, and somehow managing to look relaxed and aloof and yet still completely lost all at the same time. The man’s dark brown hair was cut short, military style, and there was a dark shadow on his jaw that was attempting to call itself a beard. Freckles decorated his cheeks and nose, and above those features, his dark brown eyes flicked from person to person, studying them with the scrutiny of someone who didn’t like crowds.

Dekval continued to study him for a long minute, and then slowly approached him, slipping through the crowd like a shadow. He approached the man with an air of confidence, but he was completely ready to apologize for mistaking the guy for someone he was supposed to meet and then trying to find that person.

“Uh, hi.” Dekval said, once he came within earshot. “Bransen, right?” He held out his hand, offering it for a shake. “I’m Dekval.”

[Zero Undead]

Making the decision on whether to eat in or eat out wasn’t difficult, it usually wasn’t when opening the fridge revealed nothing but condiment bottles and some cans of beer. Bransen couldn’t help but ruefully remind himself that he really needed to hit a grocery store and stock his pantry. Of course he knew he’d likely forget to do so, again. Living in an apartment, coming “home” to the same place every night, that still felt new and strange to him. Hopping all over the domes – and out of them – for military operations hadn’t much made for creating a homebody.

That was okay, though. Food made by someone else tasted way better than what he might have been able to scrape together at home anyway. He really did need to remember to buy real groceries soon. A person couldn’t live off take-out fast food and restaurant offerings forever. Well you could, but you shouldn’t.

Heading out, Bransen wandered for a bit, not having a real direction on destination in mind. Food was generally food, and where he got dinner didn’t really matter all that much to him. He had eaten at a lot of places since moving to Ryun. The food truly was one of the best things about this dome. Before moving to Ryun he had never eaten any seafood so fresh and flavorful. Until moving here, he hadn’t much cared for sushi. Now he realized that was only because he had never had good sushi before.

Yep, dinner was definitely sushi since it seemed stuck on his mind now.

Wasn’t there supposed to be a good place on the waterfront? Yeah, someone had mentioned it several times to him in chat. It was that one Pilot, a new young Raven. Although calling him new wasn’t saying much, half the squad seemed to be new, didn’t it? The problem was he didn’t know exactly which stretch of waterfront property this good sushi place was supposed to be located on. A city made up of islands had a lot of places along the beach to sell seafood, and there were a lot of restaurants.

A few texts and a DM later had Bran standing off a major avenue along a popular strip of waterfront waiting on Dekval to come lead the way. He really didn’t have to wait that long. Actually he wouldn’t have had to wait at all. There were plenty of other places he could have gone, but he had decided to take the man up on his offer to show him where this sushi bar was.

Bran recognized the man that approached him immediately. You couldn’t live in Ryun and not know what the members of the local squad looked like. It was the same as most domes, though. The squad Pilots were almost always the most famous. 

“Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you and all that.” Bran shook Dekval’s hand, the left corner of his mouth quirking just slightly. It wasn’t really a smile, but it was close enough. “Ready to go? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

[Paladienne]

Ah, Dios mío. Good job. He thinks you’re an idiot. Dekval thought as he shook and released Bransen’s hand, catching that quirk of the man’s lips, uncertain of the meaning. It could have been a smile. It could have also been an annoyed tick. Wouldn’t be the first time someone made that kind of expression upon meeting him, and probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Well, enough standing around talking, then. Come on. I’ll show you where it is.” Dekval said, already starting down the street. For anyone else, he might have hesitated, but he knew Bransen would follow him without much complaint. The man was hungry and he wanted food, and Dekval knew the way to food. And, anyway, the quicker they got out of here, the happier Dekval would be.

It was with some skill that Dekval managed to avoid the people who wanted to come up to him and either ask him for an autograph, a photograph, or a combination of the two. The fame that came with being part of the Ravens wasn’t something he really enjoyed, just something he had to deal with. He wasn’t rude with anyone, though; he was mindful of what he said to those that actually managed to stop him and graceful in the way he moved to avoid that grabbing hand or that person who stepped into his path, whether on purpose or inadvertently, such that no insult could be given. A brilliant smile was, most of the time, enough to disarm his fans. Like other things, the fans and the fame was just a side-effect of something he had no real control over, and he liked the fans and the fame even less. Maybe in a few years, he’d get used to it, but right now, he couldn’t stand it. And so, when they escaped the crowd onto a side street and began leaving the tourist-heavy locations behind, Dekval breathed a little easier.

The side street that he led Bransen down took them away from the waterfront, into a more residential and local business area than the tourist trap they’d just left. It was quieter here, and though there were a few tourists wandering about, they were more focused on the specialty shops that lined the pathway than the pair walking past them. Even locals barely gave the Raven and his companion more than a passing glance, a smile, and a wave, the latter of two Dekval often returned.

From the side street, Dekval brought them back out onto a main avenue that deposited them back out onto the waterfront. There were quite a few people here as well, but they were mostly locals rather than tourists. On one side of the street were buildings, businesses and apartments, all facing the glittering, glimmering ocean and a still-somewhat crowded beach on the other.

Dekval glanced at Bransen. “We’re almost there. It’s a bit of a walk, but, believe me, it’s worth it.”

After several dozen yards on the main street, Dekval took a side path that wound downwards at a steady gradient and deposited them on an even more residential looking street. The sound of the ocean’s waves was stronger here, though the water itself couldn’t be seen from where they were. Dekval beelined for a nearby building that rose only one story from the street. On the outside, it was a whitewashed homely looking building that was quite unremarkable. The only thing denoting it as a restaurant and not someone’s personal residence was a hand-carved sign of a fish set against the backdrop a gracefully curving wave hanging from the awning covering the door and a small section of the walking path.

“This is the place,” Dekval said as he stepped up to the sliding door, gently nudging it open and leading Bransen inside.

The interior layout of the restaurant was one to be expected. Tables were arrayed around the main room a patterns that allowed an easy flow of traffic from the front door through the main room and to the back of the restaurant, where the entire back wall was just tall windows, allowing anyone sitting in the main room to see a spectacular view of the table-filled but empty patio outside and, beyond it, the ocean.

“Hi,” Dekval said brightly when the hostess approached the two of them, offering them a soft greeting. “Actually, I’m going to take my order to go, but can he get a table on the patio? Thanks.” He turned to Bransen then, giving him an unsure smile. “I think you’ll like it out there better than in here. Better view. Plus, there’s direct access to the private beach below, if you take the stairs down.”

[Zero Undead]

 It was strange, Bran could have sworn the other man was nervous, but what reason would Dekval have to be anxious? Refraining from attempting to delve too far into what emotions were churning around in the other Pilot, he simply gave a bit of a nod and followed after him as he led the way – presumably to this really good sushi place. For all he knew the Raven could be about to take him in circles around Ryun for the fun of it.

Not that he thought he would, but he could.

When Bransen wandered the city alone he was left undisturbed for the most part. All Pilots were generally meant to be celebrities, but he wasn’t some cool squad boy. He was just another soldier among many, and now he was more like an investigator, so even less impressive to most. That was the way he preferred it. Fame wasn’t something he relished, so when Dekval was mobbed by fans he was happy to keep back and observe the way the younger man handled himself. Part of him felt bad for the kid, and part of him was just happy it wasn’t him they were fawning over.

At least watching him handle civilians was interesting. Dekval was clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but he was able to dodge and diffuse most of it with a good deal of grace. Bran on the other hand, simply gave an awkward, lopsided smile to the few people that did try to get his attention. They probably were only curious because he seemed to be with the younger and more famous Pilot at the moment.

It was a great relief as they moved away from crowded, touristy areas into less densely packed streets where it was easier to breathe. He let his eyes wander over the residential buildings and smaller specialty shops. Bran had never seen this neighborhood, but he hadn’t explored as much of the city as he probably should have by now. Could anyone really blame him for his long walks repeatedly dragging him along the piers? The beaches were beautiful and, when not full of screaming tourists, peaceful.

“I like walking.” Bransen shoved his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans as they walked, people still waved at Dekval, but they weren’t swarming, which was a plus. He managed to nod politely at the ones that noticed him.

When they stepped back onto a main street, he took it in, memorizing landmarks at a glance so that he might easily find the place on his own next time, if he liked it enough to come back. The outside of the building was less than remarkable. It seemed like a very small and local-catering place, which immediately gave marks in its favor. Crowded restaurants full of loud conversations weren’t conductive to a nice meal, as far as Bran was concerned. For a Pilot used to combat missions all over Aedolis, he valued his peace quite highly.

“Looks quaint,” he commented as they stepped inside. The hostess at least got a smile as she approached him, but Bran let Dekval do the talking. He arched a brow when the boy said he was going to take his order to go.

“Patio sounds nice so make it a table for two please, and do you allow smoking out there?” Bran gave his guide a half smile. “Why don’t you stick around? Dinner’s on me. It is the least I can do for you showing me how to get here. Besides, eating dinner alone isn’t as good as in some company. Don’t you think?”

[Paladienne]

Upon hearing Bransen’s offer of sharing the meal, Dekval’s eyes widened and a look of pure shock crossed his face as he stared at the other man. The expression was a mix of confusion and uncertainty and a momentary glimpse of surprise that Bran would actually make the offer in the first place. After all, Dekval had just intended to show him where the little place was, not intrude on whatever solitude Bransen was trying to gain. Especially since it had seemed, at least to him, that Bransen enjoyed his peace and Dekval being around might lessen that. Not that Dekval had ever been bothered by the patrons of this little restaurant, which was one of the the things he truly liked about this place, besides the excellent food and the even more spectacular view. The owner of the establishment and the staff seemed to know when the young Pilot - and any other Pilot who knew about the place, for that matter - wouldn’t mind the company of an adoring fan and when he would, so Dekval never had to worry about an interruption.

His knee-jerk reaction was to refuse. After all, it had been a ‘two birds, one stone’ kind of deal, no strings attached. But he couldn’t deny that Bransen had a point. Food, especially good food, was meant to be shared. Somehow, it always tasted better when eaten with pleasant company, and so far, Bransen hadn’t been anything but that.

Looking at the hostess, Dekval made his decision, and lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

The hostess nodded. “Follow me, please. And, yes, smoking is allowed. We only ask that you don’t toss your trash over the railing.” she said, snatching up another menu and a small plastic ashtray from her podium as she passed it.

The hostess led them to a table set by the far railing of the outside patio, set the menus and ashtray on the table, and murmured, “Your server will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal.” Then she turned and left them to enjoy the view of the relatively private beach and the water lapping at the sands in a steady rhythm. Faintly in the distance other sounds could be heard, but it was quiet out here, besides the sounds one would expect.

Dekval took a moment to enjoy the view as he did every time he came here, then sat down and reached for his menu to peruse it. But his eyes inevitably were drawn to the man across from him, as if Bran was a puzzle or a problem he was determined to figure out.

“You don’t have to pay for both of us, you know.” he said at last. He was earnest, at least. He really didn’t think that he’d done anything worth a reward like this. “We could go halves. I mean, I don’t think showing you this place constitutes an offer like that. After all, if I’d been just given you directions in the first place, you could have found the place on your own.”

[Zero Undead]

Was that expression funny or weird? Honestly Bransen couldn’t decide. A nervous twitch touched the corner of his mouth as he tried not to think about it too long or hard. It seemed a bit odd that a man like Dekval would be so surprised at being invited to stay for dinner after they had walked here together. You would think a famous Raven would be used to people asking him to share meals with them, although he probably expected it more from over exuberant fans and not fellow Pilots.

Maybe inviting him to stay wasn’t the right move?

A bit of tension eased out of him when the younger man agreed to share a table with him. It wasn’t like it would have hurt his feelings to eat alone, but he didn’t like making things awkward with people, even if it was something Bransen was apparently pretty good at.

“I would never, ma’am.” He murmured to the hostess when she asked that he not throw his trash over the railing. That would be an insanely dick move when they provided an ashtray and everything.

Bransen followed the hostess out to the patio, pausing when they reached their table and giving a low whistle as he looked over the view. Ryun had no shortage of beautiful beaches, the island dome was famous for the black sands, but this little cove was stunning. It was also blessedly quiet compared to much of the crowded city. There was still the sound of throngs of people enjoying the dome, but it was much fainter here, he could hear the waves much more clearly.

Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he took his seat across from Dekval and picked up the menu, letting his eyes roam over it casually. He’d eaten plenty of sushi since moving to Ryun, and already had some idea of what he did or didn’t like, but each restaurant was a little different.

He looked up from his menu, brow furrowing slightly when Dekval did speak to him again. The Raven seemed a bit on the quiet side, which was fine with Bran, because he wasn’t exactly chatty either. Still, the question made him quirk a lop-sided smirk. “Oh I know I don’t, but if I minded paying then I wouldn’t have offered. It isn’t just about repaying you for showing me how to get here. I told you, eating with someone can be nicer than eating alone.”

Not always, but sometimes. Bransen ate alone a lot. Today, for whatever reason, he decided to ask Dekval to stay and eat with him. He still wasn’t sure if it had been the right or wrong decision, but the only way to find out was to follow through with it.

“So what do you recommend, anyway?” Bransen idly wiggled his menu, having already looked over it a little, but curious what the other man would suggest since he had eaten there before.

[Paladienne]

For a long while, Dekval studied the older man as he might one of the puzzles in his games, trying to figure out what Bransen was about. The offer of the shared meal had stunned him, and now he felt a little stunned again by Bran’s casual dismissal of his offer to pay his portion of their bill. True, the man had offered, but Dekval hadn’t been raised to take such offers without a grain of salt, or to not expect a catch at the end. After all, that had been much of his experience in situations similar to this. He dropped his eyes from Bran’s face as those thoughts crossed his mind. No, it wasn’t fair of him to lump Bran in with the rest, or to lump him in with the shadows of his past. As Bransen had said, he wouldn’t have made the offer if he’d minded the company, and Dekval believed him. He wanted him there, a companion for the duration of the meal.

He could commiserate with that sentiment.

And whatever happened afterwards would happen.

“What would I recommend?” Dekval looked up at Bransen with a small smile. “That’s a dangerous question. Everything here is worth trying, believe me.”

The young Raven looked back to his own menu then, wondering what, exactly, would be good to suggest. “I like the spicy stuff, so I usually get one or two of their special rolls. Red Hot and Volcano are my go-to.” He pointed them out on his menu as he said them, allowing Bran to find them easily on his own menu in order to read the ingredients contained within the rolls. “And I know it’s a really, really weird combination, but these two rolls here, the ones with mango and strawberry in them, are good too. A little on the sweet side, but not sweet enough it’ll hurt your teeth or anything.”

Talking like this, with someone who seemed genuinely interested in what he might have to say, made Dekval quite happy. Even if it was about food. That genuine interest wasn’t something he saw often, if at all, from the people who swarmed him for an autograph, a picture, a drink, or even a one-night stand. They got theirs and they were done with him. In the end, this situation would turn out to be the same he knew and was used to, but at least for the hour or so that it took for them to eat their food, Dekval at least could claim that, for that hour, it wasn’t about what he could do for Bransen, but what they provided each other.

[Zero Undead]

Whatever inner confusion, shock, or turmoil Dekval was going through, Bransen seemed to be quite the opposite. He was perfectly at ease as he sat across from the other Pilot. The atmosphere was nice out here on the patio, the open air was refreshing, the view was amazing, and the small empathetic buzz radiating off his dinner companion wasn’t enough to detract from his enjoyment of the moment. All-in-all it made for a decently pleasant combination to him.

“I’ll risk it,” Bran said with a soft chuckle, actually feeling a bit of genuine amusement at Dekval’s assessment of asking for his recommendation being dangerous. At least the man was confident about the food here. It boded well for the coming meal.

His dark eyes roamed over the menu as the other man spoke, finding the rolls and skimming over what was in each of them thoughtfully. Spicy rolls weren’t uncommon at all, and Bran had enjoyed others that were slightly different from these ones, so he thought they were definitely worth trying. The semi-sweet rolls with fruit in them sounded a bit stranger, although this wasn’t the first time he had seen similar kinds of sushi. He just hadn’t tried them before out of skepticism. If Dekval was recommending them though, then maybe they were worth giving a shot, benefit of the doubt and all that.

Folding his menu and setting it aside, Bran idly scratched at the stubble along his jaw – ugh, if it was getting itchy it might be time to shave again – as he contemplated what to order.

“Why don’t we get one of each and split them? If you say they’re that good then I think I’d like to try them. We can tackle four rolls between the two of us, don’t you think?” It seemed like a good idea to him. It was two rolls each once you put all of it together, and even if they didn’t eat it all here they could get a to-go bag for leftovers.

Not that Bran expected leftovers. He was going to walk off dinner on that private beach if they were allowed.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Bran pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter. He shook one out and had it in his mouth before pausing to look over his dinner companion thoughtfully. Normally he would just light up and smoke while waiting on the food, but he was usually alone. It would be rude to smoke if it bothered the other man at the table.

“Do you mind? I know some people don’t like it. Terrible habit, I know.” After a decade of it he couldn’t even smell it anymore hardly because he was so used to the scent of cigarettes.

[Paladienne]

“That sounds like a plan,” Dekval replied, smiling as he closed his menu and set it aside. “Can’t really go wrong doing that. Besides, it’s better to try something once rather than dismissing it out of hand. If you don’t like it, then you don’t ever have to get it again, but at least you’ll know for sure, rather than just assuming you don’t like it.”

He sat back in his seat then, letting his arms rest idle in his lap. With their conversation lapsing, he turned his attention to the waters lapping at the beach then, and watched the waves gently ripple up and back. He really didn’t mind the silence, and he really couldn’t think of anything to talk about anyway. Dinner had been decided. What did one talk about after that? With his best friend, talking was easy, but sitting in silence was even easier. And he didn’t want to pry into Bransen’s personal life, and it was none of his business anyway. Talking about their jobs seemed out of place in a setting such as this. Besides, if he was remembering right, Bransen was an Inquisitor, and there wasn’t much he could divulge about his work. And he doubted the man wanted to hear about what Dekval did as a typical day at the office. He was pretty sure Bransen could imagine what it was he did, anyway.

There were stories he could tell, but it might seem like he was gossiping. Or bragging.

Or just outright insane.

When Bransen moved, Dekval’s attention turned to him with an air of curiosity, as if he was trying to figure out what the older man was doing. Those glacier blue eyes focused on Bransen’s hand as it dipped into his jacket, and followed that hand as it emerged, holding within it that cigarette box and lighter. Then his eyes flicked from Bransen’s hand to Bransen’s face and Dekval tilted his head slightly to the side when Bran started to light up, seemed to think better of it, and then finally asked him for permission.

Dekval lifted his shoulders in a shrug. The smell of cigarette smoke had never bothered him, and, anyway, he wasn’t one to complain. “No, I don’t mind. Go for it.” Dekval smiled, his tone turning joking. “I’m pretty sure I’m upwind, anyway.”

Before he could speak further, the waitress arrived, setting down glasses of water for each man. Dekval gave her their order, and once she was gone, he turned his attention back to Bransen.

“Besides, you want to talk about terrible habits, I’ve got one I can’t even control.”

[Zero Undead]

“You know what they say about assuming shit, right?” When you assume you make an ass out of you and me, it was kind of a silly saying, but Bransen had dozens upon dozens of equally stupid little sayings, euphemisms, and turns of phrase stuck in his brain. Very occasionally they were actually worth remembering, but not that often. “I like trying things out before I pass judgment. Making your mind up with only second-hand observations and opinions is just asking for it.”

Maybe not catastrophic consequences or regrets when making a food choice, but other things could definitely be ruined by snap judgments.

They had lapsed into silence until Bran fished out a cigarette, but it hadn’t felt uncomfortable. It was nice when you could enjoy the company of another person without having to say a word. Sometimes conversation felt unnatural; sometimes the mood and moment just required quiet. He was particularly fond of silence.

Of course until he wasn’t. He cracked a smile at Dekval’s joking humor and lit the cigarette, inhaling a lungful of the tobacco and feeling the sweet, calming influence of nicotine. There were worse addictions, ones that were often encouraged. Bran leaned back in his chair, casting a faint smile as the waitress set down their glasses of water and watching his dinner companion place their order. It didn’t even feel like an interruption, if he was being honest.

“Oh yeah?” There was a questioning tilt to his voice, but he also didn’t seem to expect elaboration – it was none of his business if the other man didn’t want to share more about this uncontrollable habit.

[Paladienne]

At Bransen’s words, Dekval grinned, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. He watched Bransen smoke for a minute, his eyes following the cloud of smoke as it drifted up into the air before wafting away. The memories weren’t pleasant ones, but they weren’t terrible ones, either. They simply were, and it was what it was. He was certain that had things turned out differently, he wouldn’t be where he was today, so there was at least a small reason to be proud of what he’d accomplished. Besides, Bransen seemed interested, at least politely, so Dekval didn’t feel pressured for sharing. It didn’t hurt to get to know someone else, after all. And, anyway, he’d shared this particular quirk of his before, so talking about it wasn’t all that difficult.
 
“So,” he started, “you ever been struck with insomnia? Where you can’t sleep, no matter what you do? Sometimes you can fight through it, either by taking something, or by exhausting yourself until you can just finally pass out? Insomnia’s just an affliction that’s random, right? But you can control it, more or less. My special brand is a side-effect from the training I did as a kid.”

Dekval turned his head toward the water then, his eyes focusing on the waves. “It isn’t exactly insomnia, not really. What happens to me, I mean. No matter what I do, I can’t make myself pass out, and it’s a big reason why I try not to take any mind-altering substances.”

He sighed. “Thirty-six hours. That’s how long I’m stuck in that state. And it isn’t even a brain-activity thing. I can’t tell when I’m going into it until I’m already in it, and I can only tell when I’m coming out of it when I just start to crash.” He returned his gaze to Bransen, his lips curled in a soft smile. “Makes me pretty useless for at least twelve hours, afterward.”

Not exactly useless. He was learning how to power through the debilitating exhaustion, but it wasn’t easy. And when he did fail, he usually wasn’t alone. If his dragon, Sophi, wasn’t keeping an eye on him, his best friend was, because the two of them were, more or less, inseparable.

He realized he’d stopped smiling during his little monologue, so he shook himself a little, and he focused on Bransen again. “Until you actually see it, it’s pretty difficult to understand.”

[Zero Undead]

“Occasionally, yeah.” Insomnia and sleep issues were no strangers to the veteran combat operative.

Bransen leaned in as Dekval began speaking, putting his elbows on the table and listening intently as the young Raven began to explain his strange sleeping issue. It didn’t sound quite like any insomnia that he’d ever heard about or experienced, and he knew a thing or two about sleep issues. A mind like his could be hard to just turn off and get to go to sleep like you wanted. There was just too much lurking and bouncing around in his skull for that.

Whatever happened to Dekval sounded different, and it wasn’t explained at great detail or super well, but it probably wasn’t easy to really express it clearly. Also they barely knew each other and the young man didn’t have to tell him anything at all.

“Thirty-six hours, huh? That’s a pretty harsh stint.” Bran took another drag on his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he watched the smoke drift away from the table idly for a moment. “More worried about that whole useless for twelve hours thing. That can’t be good or easy for anyone, but I’m sure it’s not so bad if they let you work on a team squad like the Ravens.”

He doubted he would ever see what Dekval was talking about. They didn’t exactly work together or spend time in each other’s company – aside from this spontaneous dinner. That could change, though; he didn’t know anybody in Ryun yet. Just because Bran had never actually talked to the younger Pilot in person before today didn’t mean they couldn’t talk like this again. It was hard to break the habit of keeping to himself, but it was definitely one that needed broken. New city, new position, new start and that meant actually trying to make friends and have a tiny semblance of a life outside missions.

Bran had a desk job now; missions weren’t really a thing anymore. He didn’t have to worry about moving domes every few months.

“So do you not have a clue what triggers these states? Might help manage them if you could avoid things that cause you to go into them.” Not that it was any of his business, but it was an interesting enough topic and Bran wasn’t that great at coming up with casual conversation.

[Paladienne]

“Nah, not a clue.” Dekval shrugged with a smile. “About all I know is that it’s a side-effect from the training I did in order to learn how to control my powers in the first place. I trained my body to withstand thirty-six hours of continuous use, and while I’m learning to function through that twelve hour ‘useless’ part, about the only thing I can really do is stay awake and shoot straight. But that’s part of why I try to stay away from any mind-altering substances. I don’t know how they’d affect me, whether they’d make it worse or make it better. And I guess ‘useless’ is the wrong word. I just know I’m at my limit after that thirty-six hours.”

He leaned forward a little in his seat, taking a sip of his water as if to force a pause in their conversation so he could order his thoughts. It felt refreshing to talk to Bransen about something that usually got him strange looks. He didn’t know why, but he felt a little more comfortable around the older man across from him than he did around total and complete strangers. Granted, Bran was still technically a stranger to him, but this was a rare opportunity to just be able to sit and talk without having to worry that he was being judged for his short-comings. He was used to being judged, especially by those who didn’t know him. The list of people who understood him was short, very short, and he liked his short list of extremely close friends. His gaze left Bran’s face to follow the trails of smoke rising into the air.

“And it’s definitely not easy, because all I want to do is sleep. But I’m not in a position anymore to be able to do what I want when I want, not that I’m sure I ever have been. I have to think about what’s best for my squad and do my best to protect them as well as complete my mission.”

He fell quiet for a moment, his thoughts going elsewhere. Then he blinked, catching and stopping himself from falling inward and turning introspective, and instead focused on Bran’s face again. He wasn’t sure how the older man would feel if Dekval suddenly just started ignoring him in favor of the thought tangent his brain had tried to take him on, but it probably wouldn’t have been a good feeling. He knew that, first hand.

So Dekval smiled, his eyes sliding instinctively toward the movement in his peripheral before returning to his company. “I’ve been told many times that I wouldn’t be part of the Ravens if whoever wanted me there didn’t see anything in me. That there’s a reason I’m part of the squad, even if I don’t know what that reason is. The ironic thing is, I can’t imagine not being part of the Ravens now. I don’t know what I’d be doing if I wasn’t here.”

He leaned back as their food arrived, the dishes arranged between them both for functionality and for style. When they were left alone again, he reached for his chopsticks and the soy sauce, pouring a generous amount into the small dish by his plate. He selected a piece of sushi, dipped in the sauce, then popped it in his mouth and chewed, delighting in the texture and the flavors that flowed over his tongue. He swallowed and smiled, making a little gesture as if to encourage the older man to partake of the bounty between them.

“What about you, Bransen? Any weird quirks of your own?”

[Zero Undead]

Whatever else you wanted to call it, it was strange. Bransen had never heard of a condition anything like what Dekval described. It was something wholly unique to the young Pilot, and not in a good way, that was for sure. Then again, what Pilot wasn't screwed up somehow from their years at the ATC and having a dragon in their head? He reaffirmed his early position on the matter - if it was truly crippling they wouldn't have put the kid on a squad.

"None of us are ever really in a position to do whatever we want when we want." Sure, they had some semblance of wild freedom, you just had to take one look at the chat to see there was a penchant for doing crazy, random, stupid shit all day and night. It was an illusion. There were limits.

"You'd be doing whatever the dragons told you to do. Just like the rest of us." Bran shook his head to clear it, dark brown eyes watching the smoke trail off the end of his cigarette for a moment. They could all have preferences on what job they'd like, and what dome, but in the end it was whatever dragon that picked them that decided. That was just how it was. He had gone into combat operations for years and years, it had been what he had wanted, but it only happened because his dragon had said so.

Now he was an Inquisitor, because his dragon thought his skills could be useful in that position.

At least the arrival of the food broke his train of thought. He could get lost on an internal tangent easily if he wasn't careful. His stupid constantly churning mind. A gift and a curse, all rolled into one. Dekval's inviting gesture got him to put his cigarette out and pick up his chop sticks. He had almost forgotten he was starving. Having someone to talk to was good for making him forget things, for a few minutes, anyway. It was always still there, somewhere in the back of his brain, but at least he could ignore everything else when he had something to focus on.

Skipping the soy sauce, Bran picked up one of those weird pieces with the mango, and popped it into his mouth. The taste was a bit of a shock. He had figured it would taste weird, and it did, but not really in a bad way.

"Hey, that's not half bad." He said after swallowing. The question made him tilt his head thoughtfully for a moment. It wasn't that he didn't want to share anything about himself with Dekval, the kid had been pretty forthcoming about his own weird quirk. "Yeah, I guess I do have one or two quirks. I don't forget anything. Ever. Eidetic memory. It is useful sometimes, most of the time it just sucks."

[Paladienne]

Dekval grinned wide at Bran’s assessment of the sushi’s taste. He would have probably laughed out loud, but since his own mouth was full, and he didn’t want to seem like a uncivilized heathen by talking with his mouth full, he focused on chewing and swallowing before he responded.

“Right? It takes a little getting used to, but the flavors actually compliment each other quite well.” He lifted his shoulders and let them fall in a quick shrug. “I’ve always been a little partial to fruit flavors, ever since I was a kid. My mom would make these little candies out of dried fruit and sugar and she let me help.” Of course, “helping” had pretty much amounted to snacking on the finished product. But the memories were bittersweet; they were some of the clearest he had before he’d entered Candidacy, but remembering the good times also meant he had to remember the worst times. And there were a lot more of those than he would’ve liked or cared to admit.

But he thankfully had many years in between then and now to soften the edges of those memories. While they still had the power to bite, it was more of a mosquito sting rather than a full flesh-tearing, bone-breaking, paralyzing injury. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how Bran had it, being unable to forget anything. All his memories, clear as day, as if it had just happened, no matter how much time had passed since the incident. For a moment, Dekval felt sorry for Bran. Being forced to remember things, however unwanted, was definitely torturous, even for someone not in Bransen’s line of work. How he managed to cope, Dekval didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to pry into that. Everyone had their own coping mechanisms. If they didn’t, they probably wouldn’t survive as long as they did.

“But,” Dekval ventured after a moment, “it can’t be all bad. There’s gotta be some good stuff scattered throughout, right? And even if you can’t forget anything, you’re always making new memories, so, I don’t know, maybe one day the good will outweigh the bad.”

He shrugged again and silenced himself by eating a few more pieces of his share of their dinner. He chewed slowly, then swallowed, and focused on Bransen again. “You know, too, if you ever need to talk, about anything, I can be a good listener. I mean, I’m not a therapist or anything, and I’m pretty certain I don’t meet any of the qualifications for even beginning to think about getting a therapy license, but... I don’t know. Sometimes you just need another person to listen, even if you don’t think it’s important enough to talk about.”

Even as he finished speaking, he sat back in his chair, his cheeks heating. He felt slightly embarrassed, unsure how Bransen would react to his offer. They hardly knew each other, and here he was, making himself available to a stranger. It was something he never did, not without a blatant invitation first. Bran probably thought he was a nosy idiot now, and he wouldn’t blame him if he decided to get up and leave.

Dekval looked toward the water, trying to fight down his embarrassment. After a minute, he returned his attention to the man across from him. He was floundering a little with what to say next, but somehow he managed to find his tongue and his wits long enough to give his companion a brief smile. “I mean, if you want to. Life’s too short sometimes, and it sucks if you go through it without friends to have your back.”