Messiah
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You Got Me a What?

You Got Me a What?

Started by Yishai Wynbrandt

Jul 26, 2018, 09:07 AM

Dated April 3, 76

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15 Posts 19 Years Male Brown Hair Black Eyes 5' 5 Dalmasca Merchant House Wynbrandt
If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive; though I'm closer to wrong, I'm no further from right; and now I'm, convinced on the inside, there's somethin' wrong with me.
Jul 26, 2018, 09:07 AM 624 Words Last Edit: Sep 09, 2018, 07:43 PM by Esmera
Ah, home, home was great.

Today hadn't been that bad! You know, some odd looks from the regulars at market, and there were a few (you know, last week had been kind of a crap-shoot, all that collapsing, and then he'd ended up bedridden for three days), but he'd stayed on his feet, at least. On the other hand, the walk home was a little more difficult than it usually was. That was normal. Honestly, he shouldn't have been walking so much, after standing so much, so soon after a fit. By this point, you'd think Shai had it down, and while he did, he tended to kind of throw caution to the wind. He'd died once already, see, he really wasn't afraid of doing it again.

That was maybe not the best way of looking at it, but it got him by, so, whatever, he figured. Besides, he was still a mage, and sooner or later, that magic thing would drive him nuts, supposedly, and he'd have to die. There was no sense in being upset about something he couldn't stop. Mind, he didn't often go looking for trouble or dangerous situations, but neither did he really shy away from them all in quite the manner he probably should.

He meandered in the door, heaving a giant sigh, and sliding down to the floor. His mom, apparently in the foyer, off the entryway, made a noise.
"You're home," she said, standing. "... are you okay?"
"Yeah," he answered. "Just tired."
"Okay," she replied, and then gestured at someone Shai didn't recognise behind her. "This is Hadrian," she introduced him as. "Your new guard."
"... ... my what?!" She got him a what?? He was tall. Wow. "Uh. ... you know, I knew humes got that tall, logically, I've seen taller, but jeez, you're like, way up there, and I'm way down here, I mean obviously, I'm sitting right now, but when I stand up, I'm like an entire head shorter I th - oh wow, your eyes are pretty - wait, mom, is that a brand?" He thought that was?

"... ah, yes. It is."
"You got me a slave?" He actually sounded a hair upset.
"Well it was the best idea at the time," she answered. "Don't sound so upset, gosh, he can't possibly be a worse idea than a sell-sword, you know those types really aren't blessed in manner of being particularly loyal."
"Not that slaves are loyal either!" he retorted, rather heatedly. "They just don't want to fucking die!"
"Yishai, honestly, it's not that -"
"You're at least giving him a room, right?"
"Ah... if you would rather... we did..."
"We have a lot of empty rooms, may as well," Yishai answered, standing, with some minor difficulty. He released a huff, as he finally got upright.
"Your father and I figured he'd be more ah, helpful, if he stayed with you."
"Wait, my room?"
"Well, yes."
"No no no, there's clothes and piles of books everywhere! It's embarrassing!"

His mother just, made a face, somewhere between exasperated, and maybe a bit amused.

8 Posts 20 Years Male Black Hair Blue Eyes 6' Dalmasca Blood Fighter House Wynbrandt
Hadrian waited slightly to one side with a flat calm that was not feigned. His expression remained bland, and his gaze just slightly downcast. It was easier that way - he did not particularly want to upset his new mistress. When he was indicated, Hadrian made sure he was standing where the newcomer could see him, but remained quiet. Blue eyes studied the boy for a heartbeat before dipping back to the floor - it was safer not to look directly at one of the actual members of the house for too long - but he had been curious given the woman who had selected him had apparently done so that he may guard this one. And at least knowing who he was supposed to be guarding was... helpful.

There was a slight touch of amusement though, somewhere back there at the realization of his height. He fidgeted, a hair, when the other mentioned his eyes. No one had ever said that before - at least not where he could hear them. Hadrian wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, but decided to just... not say anything for now.

It took only a very brief time into the exchange for Hadrian to be confused. He didn't think he'd ever heard someone so annoyed at the prospect of being gotten a slave. He hoped his confusion was well hidden - but suspected that it didn't matter because the chances of his garnering any attention at the moment were rather slim. Slaves were merely furniture, and this was their argument to be had. Still, it was confusing in a sense. ... And might have been slightly insulting, actually, had Hadrian had any real pride in himself - as it was, he was generally of the belief that he could handle playing bodyguard for a bit.

The kid had no real idea what he was saying anyway, probably. He'd just... file it away and leave it be. Easier that way.

... Room. First the kid through a small tizzy about being gotten a slave and now they were discussing giving him... a room. ... Wasn't that how things normally went? Bodyguard shared the room, because, well, things that went bump in the night? There was a slight noise made in the back of his throat, somewhere between confused and amused - but Hadrian cut it off rather quickly.

He wasn't supposed to draw attention to himself, he knew better.

15 Posts 19 Years Male Brown Hair Black Eyes 5' 5 Dalmasca Merchant House Wynbrandt
If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive; though I'm closer to wrong, I'm no further from right; and now I'm, convinced on the inside, there's somethin' wrong with me.
For a moment, after that sound Hadrian made, Yishai head-tilted at him, in curiosity mostly. In the first place, really, he wasn't sure why his parents wanted him to have a guard so much, apart from the fact he was very easy to overwhelm, and while House Wynbrandt were well-loved, they were well-loved. Any in Nydema, let alone all of Dalmasca, might wish to find themselves fortunately in the same position as House Wynbrandt, and with no other heirs, the end of Yishai meant the end of Wynbrandt, barring adoptive arrangement, or his parents having another baby. Often, he wondered why (how??) he was an only child, but they didn't talk about such things in the house. The slaves in the kitchens had their own reservations, many of which Yishai was privy to.

Ah, he wasn't just a slave, given he had a brand, he was either a very good slave, or a blood fighter. Yishai knew the stories told about blood fighters and their vicious temperaments and unfriendly dispositions were wildly exaggerated, and chiefly wrong. He knew that, in the way he didn't even have to think about it, because he'd had experiences talking with blood fighters before, mostly when he was bored and wandered the slave market. Yishai never bought slaves himself; he hated the whole idea, and while he understood one person in all of Dalmasca deciding not to do so would not make much difference, if more of those that thought the same way did similar... but that was a pipe dream, ultimately.

Still, any slave he ever had, his parents got him, and clearly, Hadrian wouldn't be much different. "I suppose, you've seen worse than piles of books and clothes, huh?" he asked, still regarding the taller newcomer with a thoughtful expression. "Well, I'm Yishai, you can call me Shai, please do, I hate that master crap, you could probably snap me in two pretty easily. He's mine, right? I can do whatever I like with him?" he asked, looking at his mother.
"Naturally," his mother answered.
"Good," Yishai replied. "Clothes, then, that can't be terribly comfortable, I mean, unless you really like them, and all I've got are my clothes, but none of mine are terribly fancy, or very small, I like loose things, loose and breatheable and stuff, but we'll see if you fit my shirts at least, if you don't mind... I mean, it's just. ... uh, do you use swords? A sword might come in handy, maybe, we've got steel down the - well it's on the way to my room, so we can swing by there on the way, and then, maybe you might be up to helping me move the stack of books, at least. Like, I've got a floor under there and stuff." Oh, wait, didn't slaves - "N-not that I really want you sleeping on it! By the way, uh, so you can have your own room, or, um, I mean my bed's pretty big..." It'd already been proven, by now, that whatever he had wasn't contagious, so he didn't mind the close proximity.

8 Posts 20 Years Male Black Hair Blue Eyes 6' Dalmasca Blood Fighter House Wynbrandt
Hadrian's weight shifted slightly as the boy's attention turned to him again. Getting his attention hadn't been precisely in the plans but it had happened and it was a little too late to regret it. He'd been trying, really, trying to be furniture. But blood fighters didn't generally get this kind of scrutiny unless they were brought into the house to entertain guests at parties. This was... a different sort of attention. He wasn't sure what to make of it, exactly.

It didn't matter, he'd deal with it, whatever it brought. "I have, yes, Master." Politely - his voice was low, but he was relatively sure it would carry enough for the boy to hear the answer. He was not, however, finished speaking. ... And apparently wanted to be called 'Shai'. Which was... strange. It didn't matter that he was capable of snapping him in two, the boy was his master. Not pointing that out, merely nodding in assent.

Hadrian had no idea how he was going to remember to call him that, honestly. But he'd... apparently have to figure that out. Making the kid angry would serve no helpful purpose and would ultimately make his apparent job much, much harder than it needed to be. It was difficult to protect someone who decided you were so distasteful to be around that they avoided you, for example. And while he'd never experienced such a thing, it wasn't hard to imagine he'd be held accountable for the boy's well-being where it was easy to keep track of him or not.

On the other hand if the kid - wait. Did he say clothes?

"Er." Confusion again, and that was probably not surprising. "Is there something wrong with the way I'm dressed?" It was all he'd worn for long enough the idea was rather strange to suddenly be shoved into something different. "But if it displeases you..." Then he was sure they could figure something else out. Just, he didn't have anything else so the young master was going to have to figure out what he wanted him to wear instead and provide it.

"A sword will be fine." It was what he trained with, it'd be fine. At least it would be familiar. Yes he would help move the books. Of course he would he was a slave his job was what ever his master wanted it to be and if that was tidying up his room then so be it. "The floor will be fine." The implication that it wasn't fine to the young master was confusing enough that Hadrian didn't even try to address it. Just, he asserted that the normal arrangements for people in their situation were fine.

He had no idea if that was going to work, but they'd see, he supposed.

15 Posts 19 Years Male Brown Hair Black Eyes 5' 5 Dalmasca Merchant House Wynbrandt
If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive; though I'm closer to wrong, I'm no further from right; and now I'm, convinced on the inside, there's somethin' wrong with me.
Oh. He tried not to cringe, at least not obviously, really he did. It'd seem, though, that he caught onto the cringing, and his slight grimace a hair's breath too late, because his mother tutted to herself, and then shuffled off. Presumably, she intended to go deal with some other, probably more important, thing.

Yeah, Shai knew that his aversion to this whole slave owning business was strange, given he was raised in Dalmasca, and Dalmascans were great at owning slaves (sarcasm here). Even he, truth be told, hadn't the faintest idea why, it just upset him, in general. It wasn't like Shai was a particularly dominating person. Rather the opposite, he tended to do a lot of deferring, for a male firstborn. Maybe he was defective in more than the obvious ways.

"Well, not really," he answered, choosing his words carefully, thoughtfully. "It just seems like it'd be uncomfortable. I'm sure you're used to it, by now, but being used to it, and being comfortable, are actually two different things. I'd like you to be the latter. Unless you're against it." Shai was pretty good at not wincing every time he saw someone that looked uncomfortable.

Fine? Hmm. He'd never gotten the hang of the difference between 'you're my master and I do what you say' fine, and 'yeah that actually sounds good' fine. Strictly internally, he was annoyed at himself for that.

"My father collects swords," Shai said, gesturing for Hadrian to follow, as he made his way down the hallway, albeit notably slower than someone his age should. "My family are related to several houses known for their smithing skill. Good, well made blades never go unnoticed around here." And his father, as it were, had several Galacese blades, too.

"The comfortable thing, it counts for the floor, too," Shai mentioned, after a moment. Just saying.

8 Posts 20 Years Male Black Hair Blue Eyes 6' Dalmasca Blood Fighter House Wynbrandt
Well, at least he was alone with the confusing kid now. ... Actually that was both a blessing and a curse because he at least had known what to expect from the Lady of the house, this one... he didn't know. And he was going to have to figure it out pretty quickly since the kid was the one he was supposed to be serving and upsetting one's direct owner tended to be a very bad idea. Still, Hadrian had never had a master quite like this one, and he didn't really know how to handle it.

... Was it ill-advised to tell the kid that while he understood the 'concept' of comfort he had no idea how he was supposed to apply that to himself? It probably was, so he would just... not do that. What he wasn't sure of was how to respond though, if he wasn't going to specifically admit that. "I'm not against it, I'm just not sure it's something you should be concerned about." Was what he finally said, almost quizzically. "But I will wear whatever you request." More or less.

Hadrian followed obediently, remaining behind Yishai. "A well made blade makes things easier." Hadrian hedged slightly, not entirely sure where the boy was going with this. ... He'd use what he was given, much like he would wear what he was told to wear. These weren't difficult things, but the way Yishai was presenting them made them strange, somehow. Presenting them as if he had a choice in the matter, when he was the slave and of course he would do as he was expected to do.

No, he didn't want to put it that way. He didn't want to come right out and say he didn't know what the kid expected there but uh. "It will be easier to do my job from the same room as you." Evenly. "Unless you are extremely opposed." And then he'd... figure it out. Wasn't sure what he'd do but he would figure something out.

15 Posts 19 Years Male Brown Hair Black Eyes 5' 5 Dalmasca Merchant House Wynbrandt
If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive; though I'm closer to wrong, I'm no further from right; and now I'm, convinced on the inside, there's somethin' wrong with me.
Most probably wouldn't think it was something for him to worry about. And, true enough, most in Dalmasca didn't; they weren't terribly good at... well, anything, around here, except maybe hurting people, breaking up families, and starting wars. Oh, and, making people legitimately confused when someone else was concerned about their welfare. That was probably the part that bothered Shai the most. He understood the concept of dehumanisation; he even understood why it was necessary, in some instances. For his own, though, it just didn't sit right, and, probably, it never really would.

His parents were right, he was going to get murdered someday.

Shai gave a quiet sigh. Well, he'd get him one of those Galacese blades, if only because they tended to be stronger, and stay sharper for longer. Like anyone in his family, he knew some basic things about varying weapons, but he'd never been strong enough to hold a sword and use it properly. That was, of course, what Hadrian was for, because even if Shai knew how to do something, actually being physically capable of doing it was another matter entirely. At least he didn't look like he'd get blown out to sea if the wind gusted too hard.

"Okay," he decided. "Though, you know, I was kind of asking what you want in not so many words. ... waitwaitwait." Come to think of it, that wouldn't make sense, either, would it? "I don't suppose you know what want is. Okay. Uh. Well, here's what we'll do then, we'll figure out an arrangement for right now, and if you decide later it doesn't work for you, we'll figure something else out then. Yeah?" Yishai really needed to get the hang of the difference between 'yeah that sounds fine,' and 'you're kinda my master, of course that's fine,' because Shai never did figure it out, and he wouldn't be able to pin-point which one Hadrian's most likely 'yeah' would be.

Anyway, this was the weapons locker. "Those are Galacese," he said, gesturing to one side of it. "Pick whichever one you like." There was no way he could hold the weight of a friggin sword at the moment, anyway, may as well let Hadrian do it. "Do you have another name? Like, one your parents gave you?" Some slaves did, some didn't.

8 Posts 20 Years Male Black Hair Blue Eyes 6' Dalmasca Blood Fighter House Wynbrandt
Aug 23, 2018, 03:25 AM 397 Words Last Edit: Sep 09, 2018, 06:52 PM by Lenara
Hadrian just stared at him for several seconds at that. And then shook his head slightly, expression leveling out. Hadn't anyone ever told this kid what slaves were for? He didn't ask that, of course. It wasn't his place to question a new master, it was just... what did he want, exactly? What did he expect? Slaves did what they were told to do. They were conditioned not to mind anything up to the most unbearable conditions. They existed to serve, and nothing more. Was that a difficult concept?

Maybe it should have been a more difficult one for Hadrian to accept, to be fair, but ... it was what he had been born into and so in the end it was all he had ever known.

"I can think of no circumstance under which whatever arrangement we come up with won't be satisfactory, unless it comes to bother you." Because, again, he existed to serve. but, well, he would humor Yishai, if nothing else. It was easier to humor him than argue with him, after all - safer, too. Both made it the best choice of action. ... Honestly if anything was going to get frustrating it was probably going to be this kid constantly insisting that he have some sort of opinion on things.

Not saying that, we were not saying that.

And here was that 'you decide' thing again. It wasn't like he knew anything about which weapons he was allowed to use and which he wasn't. Or... even much idea of what he should be looking for in a blade. He worked with what he was handed. Instead of saying that Hadrian grudgingly tested the weight of a couple of the blades before finding one of the ones that had been indicated that had a weight he was immediately comfortable with. "Is this one okay?"

He was not even going to get started on the fact that one should probably not waste a Galacese blade on a slave.

"No. I don't." After a moment of consideration. The name his father would have called him didn't really count. It wasn't his name, and it never had been.

(test edit)

15 Posts 19 Years Male Brown Hair Black Eyes 5' 5 Dalmasca Merchant House Wynbrandt
If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive; though I'm closer to wrong, I'm no further from right; and now I'm, convinced on the inside, there's somethin' wrong with me.
Sep 15, 2018, 09:57 PM 771 Words Last Edit: Sep 15, 2018, 10:04 PM by Esmera
He tried not to sigh too loudly, really, he did. Admittedly, it came out more resigned than exasperated. Someday, maybe the answers to these sorts of questions would be different. Yishai wasn't above anyone else, and that was that. Certainly, he wouldn't be acting as if he was; it just happened, he was dying, couldn't easily defend himself, and his parents had money. That was all. That was the only reason Hadrian was here at all, and maybe it was a bit humbling to realise that. Sad, too, because if it weren't for all that, who knew where the other would be. It was sad to think that, he and everyone like him were just stuck with whatever the universe doled out to them. Yishai wasn't naive, anymore. Sometimes, he wished he was. That was why. Why his mother getting him a dang slave of all things as a bodyguard upset him, but in the end, it was either following Yishai around, or ending up back in the arena, or worse, and really, Yishai was probably the guy's best shot at a life that didn't suck.

And that just made him sad-angry. That was an odd thing to feel, sad-anger.

"I don't know," Yishai answered. "You can use any blade in there you want, but I don't know what your training's like. Whatever's easiest for you to handle and most comfortable, really." At least, for now, he may have to give the guy a bit more direction, until he figured out, or accepted, or both, that Yishai was quite serious about that whole 'whatever you want,' thing. It was very likely he had no idea what 'want' even meant. There went that sad-anger feeling again. He'd have to get over that.

"Well, that's okay," he said. "Many don't, but, I figured if there was a name you felt more attached to, I'd use that instead. If you ever decide you want to be called something else, just let me know, and I will, okay?" It occurred to Shai, of course, that the other might be lying. Some became almost defensive of their real names, as if in sharing it with someone they didn't necessarily trust, they were giving away the last shard of themselves that was still theirs, and maybe it felt that way to some. Shai would never really know - he'd never been in that situation, and never would be, maybe, if fortune was kind to him (he figured, this whole dying business, that was more than enough misfortune to last him a while). If he was omitting it, out of a disinterest in telling him, maybe someday, Shai might earn it.

Anyway. "Well, I should at least move stuff around so you don't trip all over my research and hurt yourself or something. I might need your help moving things around sometimes. Um. I'm pretty much a wet noodle, and moving heavy stuff wears me down really quick. Can't even hold a sword for longer than a few seconds, if that." Really, Shai wasn't the best owner-person. He had nothing going for him, as far as making them stay. That was fine with him. If, someday, a slave murdered him and escaped, that'd be a good death. "Uh, oh! We have an extra mattress, actually! Maybe we can just move a bed into my room so you get your own space and also aren't far. Sounds like a decent compromise, yeah?" Well, apart from it'd be Hadrian doing the moving, part... unavoidable side-effect. But, Shai didn't want to make the guy share a bed with him, that was - that was so Dalmascan - unacceptable, that was what that was, but being fair, Hadrian was right. He'd be able to do that guarding thing much easier if he was nearby.

"... does this make you kind of a body slave?" he asked, moving to lead to his room. "Hmm. Guess that's not so bad. Probably weird for you, though, sorry about that. I'll try not to be too horrible. You can't read, can you?" Most likely, no. It was rare to find a slave that could read; rarer, still, to find a blood fighter that could.

8 Posts 20 Years Male Black Hair Blue Eyes 6' Dalmasca Blood Fighter House Wynbrandt
He didn't know if it was okay for Hadrian to take the weapon. Not yes you can use it, or no that one isn't acceptable. But he didn't know. For a moment, at least until Yishai explained Hadrian wondered if it wouldn't be best to wait for the master of the house then. The explanation was quick on the heels of the statement. Ah...right. Hadrian brushed away his confusion and inclined his head in a nod. Right, then he was going to keep this one because the weight was comfortable and it was a style he was familiar enough with to use without hesitation. So yes, apparently this weapon was fine. And if it turned out later that it wasn't, Hadrian would deal with those consequences then.

"I'll remember that." But Hadrian didn't have another name. He supposed Yishai had his reasons for saying that. And that was fine, it was a sweet sentiment, and confusing, but maybe the lesser of the confusing things Yishai had said so far. So fine. ... But Hadrian was his name, and it was always going to be his name. Yeah. Well maybe not always, he may eventually get an owner that took offense to it and changed it but that was... well. Apparently not going to be this house.

"I'm sure I can manage helping move some things around your room, don't worry about it." In a mild tone that was an attempt to be pleasant, really. Still, the more the kid spoke the more Hadrian realized he probably really did need a guard because if he was that fragile... it was a miracle Dalmasca hadn't killed him already. And it would probably take some work on his part to make sure it remained that way. ... Not the worst way to spend his time though. The kid was confusing, but his personality was pleasant so far. Hopefully it stayed that way. Being cordial with him would make things easier.

Wait did he say extra mattress. Confusion, crossed his expression. "...If... you insist." Not arguing, but where did the kid even come up with an idea like that. Giving a bed to a slave. But it wasn't a bad compromise, all things considered. Clearly the kid wasn't liking giving up part of his space very much as it was.

"I think it does." Yes, technically. It was an upgrade from his previous position, for sure, Hadrian thought as he followed the boy. "A little, but it's fine." It was a good weird? So far? Hm. "... No, I can't." Some slaves could, but he was not among that group.

15 Posts 19 Years Male Brown Hair Black Eyes 5' 5 Dalmasca Merchant House Wynbrandt
If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive; though I'm closer to wrong, I'm no further from right; and now I'm, convinced on the inside, there's somethin' wrong with me.
Yeah, he figured that'd be confusing. "I mean, I'm sure you wouldn't really know what to do with your own room," Yishai said, "but that's kind of why I wanted to give you one. You know, so maybe you won't be so confused when I die and you're free. That'll be in my will. Technically, freedmen are still indebted to the house they served last, but my parents probably won't bother you. Unless they need a guard again, I guess." The chances of that were kind of slim. Well, his parents might adopt after he died, if they couldn't have any more kids of their own. They might want a guard for their other kids, someday.

That was kind of a depressing thing to think. Next thought.

"I guessed not," he answered. "I'll have to teach you, probably. I may need you to read stuff for me sometimes." There were days his condition was so bad, he couldn't hold a book up. "I'm doing research on obscure medical conditions. Kind of a passion project, I guess. I probably spend more time buried in books than anything. Well, if we're lucky, this arrangement won't be too eventful. I know you've probably dealt with worse, I hear stories, it's just..." Just what? Maybe he shouldn't say that. It was a stupid thing to think, and a stupid thing to feel, and honestly, Hadrian was a slave. He probably didn't really care.

Shai had to remember that. He was here because he had to be, that was all. Yeah. Mixing duty up with caring was a dangerous thing.

He shook his head, instead. "Anyway, my room's this way," and he headed down the hallway. "It's got a nice view of the garden, if you like flowers and stuff. In the morning, the sunrise comes in right through the windows, so, I hope you're a morning person." The sun, of course, was pretty bright. Hard to sleep through that.

8 Posts 20 Years Male Black Hair Blue Eyes 6' Dalmasca Blood Fighter House Wynbrandt
Hadrian gave Yishai a strange look at that. The kid now had plans to free him in his will? Wasn't he... a little young to be considering a will? Sure people died young in Dalmasca all the time but that seemed just a little excessive, perhaps. It wasn't really any of his business though, so Hadrian didn't directly comment on it. Still, it was slightly interesting to consider that the kid seemed to have no faith at all in Hadrian's ability to keep him alive. That was alright though, the kid didn't have to believe in him, Hadrian just had to do his job.

And he was just going to do himself a favor and push away that bit about freedom and pretend it had never been said. Easier that way.

Er. Well that was... completely up to Yishai, but it seemed like an odd thing to waste time on, teaching a guard to read. "If that's what you want." Was what he said, finally. He didn't necessarily mind the idea? It was just strange. Obscure medical conditions. Hm. File that away in things he probably wouldn't need to know but might turn out to be important, he supposed. "It'll be fine, I'm sure." Calmly. Though he was curious what the kid was so worried about. Aside from Hadrian being utterly confused by how nice this kid was being, it wasn't so bad.

Hadrian followed the boy towards his room without saying anything to that. He did make an effort to remember the paths they were taking if only because it might be useful to know to bring things up to the boy from time to time or something. Given he'd also be acting as a body slave, it was probably important to know that.

"I am, actually." And he'd enjoy watching the sunrise from time to time he was sure. Ah, but he'd be careful not to wake Yishai in the process, if it could be avoided. Perhaps he couldn't be, depending on how the room was set up. And how light a sleeper the boy was.

15 Posts 19 Years Male Brown Hair Black Eyes 5' 5 Dalmasca Merchant House Wynbrandt
If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive; though I'm closer to wrong, I'm no further from right; and now I'm, convinced on the inside, there's somethin' wrong with me.
"I know," Yishai started, sounding partly exasperated, and maybe a bit resignedly bemused. "Most people don't teach their slaves weird stuff like that. But I'm sure it'll come in handy someday." If nothing else, being literate might do him some good, later, when he was free. Shai didn't point that out. Interactions with slaves was very touchy, delicate, sometimes. On the one hand, there was no reason not to point it out, but on the other, if he placed too much emphasis on it, it may come off, unintentionally, as if he was trying to use it as leverage for something. Yishai wasn't about that, anyway, but it wasn't like Hadrian knew that; he'd just met him. What he said and did, and what he put emphasis or not on, was kind of a big deal, at least at the moment. When they got more familiar with one another, he could relax a bit, but Shai wanted to make a good impression, not fuck anything up terribly, or come off wrong... make the guy hate him so early in their relationship...

Shai smiled, a bit. "Sorry, it's been a few months since I've had a guard. I'm still trying to remember you don't know me as well." The last guard hadn't worked out, in the end. It wasn't his fault. Shai was a bit much, and he knew it, and so did his parents. Maybe that was part of why Shai was trying so hard (probably too hard) to make a good impression. He didn't want Hadrian to end up hating him, too (he was at least closer to his age... Shai didn't generally interact with people closer to his age, except the Essair triplets, when they weren't all busy). "If I ever start talking too much about something you don't want to hear about, you can tell me to shush." He wasn't sure if Hadrian would ever believe that, but, maybe someday.

Someday before Shai died would be nice, but, he wasn't holding his breath.

Eventually, they got to the right room, and Shai shoved the door open. Surprisingly, something behind it fell over; it sounded like a bunch of books. "... forgot not to open it all the way." Despite his apparent concerns earlier, though, the books were stacked mostly neatly, with a few stray books here and there, papers stuffed in them, and his clothes were at least in a pile to one corner. "And here we are. I think I just need these two stacks," he explained, gesturing at the ones he meant, "over there with those," and pointing to the other side of the room, "and we can fit another bed in here for you right here." By the door, incidentally. There were bars on the other side of his window, casting an interesting diamond shadow pattern on the floor. By the door seemed like it'd be a better idea, right?

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