notavirtue | Journeys with a Prothean (Year Two)

Journeys with a Prothean (Year Two)

Javik

COURT
Unseelie

TITLE
Border Shark

ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL
Yes. Possesses Maglor's Magic Ring, but doesn't tell anyone

RESIDENCE IN 2,701 Caer Scima/The Station

RESIDENCE IN 2,702 You can't tie down a banjo man

MAJOR EVENTS

Promotion
Following his participation in the war and his work along the borders, Javik is given the title of Captain within the Unseelie army.

Treun
Javik attends the summer Tourney in Treun, and meets with the Governor again.

Amunet
Javik learns the secret of Vanessa's Ives possession during Samhain.

YEAR ONE | YEAR TWO | YEAR THREE

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May)

MARCH - The new king of birds brings late snowstorms and a deep freeze to the Drabwurld. Visiting the ruins of Caer Scima, Javik travels with Katsa to assist refugees to the Third Tooth of Dorchadas. Javik visits Vanessa's spire, and once the snow has gone, he visits Damon and his sand worms. Maglor will be gone, having left Javik his magic ring and a shard-palantir. Javik is now the last of the Fellowship of Grumpy Old Men (and a Genie). Aragorn uses the shard-palantir to contact those that also have one.
APRIL - Reul's Right Hand, The Winter King and Unseelie General Saber Alter recruits Javik as an officer in the military. Not one to let emotions get control of him, Javik will bust up that harp as soon as he realizes what's going on. Time not spent flipping out about harps will be used to continue patrolling Dorchadas.
MAY - No more lockets or fairy rings or monarchs! Javik goes swan hunting, and racks up some cash to fund his travels. He stops in at the new trading post, meeting Vol'jin's brother-of-sorts, Thrall. At the Station he crosses paths with Midna, and they both head south together. Unfortunately, the road to Treun is awfully close to Seelie territories...

SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug)

JUNE - Javik attends, but does not participate in the tourneys at Treun. He reconnects with Effy, Ben and Hikaru, and meets Diarmuid and Katherine. Athame has her second litter of puppies in the city. Following the tourney he meets with Debal to discuss replacing Vridan's grave marker... and the governor gets to dogsit Prativ for awhile.

JULY - Javik heads south to Leathann, and is entirely unaware of the hangings in Daonna until news reaches that far south.

AUGUST - Leathann's Festival of Lights occurs during the second week. Javik attends and observes, and visits the Tower of the Oracle. While there's no obvious mark left behind by Vridan, the design of the tower is reminiscent of the architecture found on Feros and Eden Prime. Returning to the mainland, Javik teams up with Diarmuid to take down some rampant forest golems.

FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov)

SEPTEMBER - Language is of no concern to him when people lose the ability to understand one another. He returns to Treun for the wreath festival, and is knee-deep in the resulting riots. 'Wish you were here' postcard material. Ben takes a look through Javik's eyes to check up on him, and Javik doesn't appreciate it.

OCTOBER - Samhain! Javik meets Wan (twice), argues with Damon, gets drunk with Unseelie soldiers and the Brucolac, gets harassed by Effy and Archer and dances with Vanessa. He later returns to Vanessa's spire despite her warning against it.

NOVEMBER - After Samhain, Javik makes his yearly trip to Loch Sluagh, to visit the grave of Vridan and replace the marker. Following this he will return to Dorchadas to pick up his duties in the Unseelie army.

WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb)

DECEMBER - Protheans may have evolved as hunters, but the White Hart gets the drop on him. Javik will be a bear for the remainder of the month.

JANUARY - Travelling Dorchadas and/or a bear.

FEBRUARY - Travelling Dorchadas. Javik catches up with Katsa at the third spire, Diasbaile.

SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr)

MARCH - The skeletons strike while Javik is at Damon's spire.

APRIL - Missing fairies. Who cares.

( codes by whambam )( art source )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Every time Javik returned to Diasbaile, now named and complete, there were more shrines. They were devoted to gods that he'd never heard of, gods that probably didn't exist, and a few he assumed people had just built around themselves, trying to be gods. Too many shrines, too many spiders, or just endless desert - the ten teeth of Dorchadas all had their sore points.

Snow still dotted the landscape, and it was through that Javik led his horse and varren. After a vacation in Treun, Prativ had been reunited with Athame, back to harassing the local wildlife in Unseelie territory. They stopped at certain shrines, sniffing through offerings and occasionally helping themselves to dried meats. Honestly, Javik was surprised he didn't see a shrine modeled after the likeness of the varren - the shadow goddess herself had one, after all. People would worship anything they didn't understand.

Having no real business with the baroness, Javik didn't go into the spire itself. He found board for his horse and the varren, and walked the settlement until mud turned to stone. After a bad hunt involving the White Hart, he needed a break from living in the forest. He stopped at the first place that looked like it offered food and drink, and stepped in without bothering to know the name.

To Katsa Diasbaile was as an absurd a place as any could be. She did not like the crowds as well as she enjoyed the forests and didn't take to streets quite so well, but she could not deny it was a fantastic place for watching and listening. And for all Katsa wished at times she could run away and leave all wars and monarchs alone, she had given her heart—and her word—to too many people to do it.

Katsa waved off Liam's company soon as they approached: he would find Brennan and stay with his packmate for a time, and Katsa would finish her business in the settlement. Even she had to admit that she was looking forward to a meal of something other than game, fish, and water; vegetables seemed like a delicacy. She had a few coins on hand and so settled herself into a table in the corner of the nearest pub or inn she could find. More interested in the prospect of food than company she only spared one glance around the room once seated and so settled her gaze on Javik the moment he entered through the door.

However long it had been since she last saw him or they last spoke, Katsa's grudge-holding abilities had never lessened. She told herself to look down—having no interest in facing whatever conversation it was that they would surely have—but could not tear her gaze away to stop staring.

The moment he was through the door, Javik cast his eyes around the room, looking for hostile or familiar faces. He found both at the same time, in the form of none other than Katsa. He struggled a moment to remember the last time he'd seen her, and realized it had to have at least been a year. A lot had happened since then.

He met her stare without flinching, and did the last thing she probably wanted him to do - he approached her, and sat down at the same table. He said nothing at first, their little reunion likely stretching into uncomfortable silence.

"It has been some time."

Javik was unforgettable, the only alien face of his kind even if Katsa wouldn't have remembered him simply to remember her irritation. She could hardly remember why she was angry with him, only that she was, and she didn't question the thought. Something about war. Something about...

She scowled at him and then the table below her when she realized he was actually heading her way. She would wait for him to speak first, determined as she was to hold onto her pride (for whatever reason that would be), and he did, to her displeasure. But at least he wasn't just looking at her.

"Yes," she said, her voice short. Katsa was glaring at the table as though it had wronged her. "I see you're still here. I imagine we've both been busy, then."

Time, it seemed, didn't dull her anger. When they'd parted ways after leaving Caer Scima, she'd been giving him the same sour looks, and her emotions were plainly written over everything she did. He was aware he grated on certain people, but Katsa was taking it to a new level.

Rather than annoying him in turn, however, it amused him. It was a lot like the joy he got out of leading James Vega into believing the most ridiculous things about protheans.

Javik leaned forward, elbows on the table as he folded his hands together. "I have been travelling, but I have a commitment to the military that brings me back to Dorchadas."

It was a good thing Katsa couldn't quite tell that it amused him, because she'd have a lot more angry things to say about that, too. As it was, she leaned back in her own chair when Javik leaned forward and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh," she responded, and she didn't sound pleased at all. "You too, then. What is it? Your commitment."

He inclined his head when she leaned back - this was going to turn into a very strange dance, apparently.

"I have agreed to act as captain under the General's orders." It wasn't, at least, the first time he'd taken orders from someone that wasn't prothean. Saber wasn't Shepard, but he knew the chain of command, alien or not.

"Yes—and I'm a lieutenant, as long as I feel what we're doing has merit."

Katsa knows the chain of command, too, and she knows Javik technically outranks her—so she wants to reassert her position in a power struggle that likely only she is playing out in her head before he does. She respects Saber and the attempt to keep further Seelie attacks from Dorchadas, that's all. That's her reason for agreeing to join anything at all.

"So." Her voice is testy, almost careful. "I suppose we have similar interests here."

As long as she felt like it had merit? That wasn't much of a commitment, considering how defensive she acted when he talked about war in general. If she meant to bolt or turn traitor over some perceived transgression, she should be less than a lieutenant.

"You mean experiences, rather than interests," he said, his tone neutral against hers. "It is not as though we have a choice."

He could choose to rent out his talents as a mercenary, or he could be an official member of the military. Either way, people died at his hands.

War was a new experience for Katsa and would be for years to come, until she came face to face with the realities of what it meant. One battle was all she had seen, and Katsa had been in battle before: a slow progression it would be, but she could not escape the consequences of war forever.

"We always have a choice," she said, then hesitated. "I've just—decided to make mine along the lines of preventing as much more disaster as I can by defending this place."

"The illusion of choice," he corrected, before standing up abruptly. If they were going to have one of their charming discussions, he needed something to drink first. He left her sitting there, possibly with the hope that he wasn't coming back. Learning that hope was for fools would be good for her, because he wasn't gone for very long.

He returned with two mugs, setting them down on the table before sitting across from her again.

"Tell me what you consider worthy of merit for this army."

Katsa snatched at the mug (though not after eyeing Javik with some suspicion) and raised it to her mouth so she didn't have to answer right away. Every time she spoke to Javik he made her think, made her question what she knew, and it was becoming a headache.

"I like the Lady Queen Morla," Katsa finally said, abrupt. "When I first came I would have been happy to kill her. But I do not believe she is a bad queen, not corrupt and intent on controlling her subjects like the Seelie. I see now why Po was happy to accept their silver cloak, though I still never would."

Never mind that Javik had likely never heard that name before. Po was long gone from Allaidh Darach in any case, only a leftover thought and reminder of her previous life. Katsa set her mug down and reached for the chain around her neck, the one that held her now-useless locket and the silver ring strung beside it.

"I'll kill those who would attack the defenseless and innocent and those who do not want to involve themselves," she said, her voice quiet but determined. "Seelie forces have already proven that they will do it. I want to find their leaders and slit their throats, and put an end to all of this."

It wasn't a name he'd heard, but until recently he hadn't particularly cared who wore what color cloak in which court. He caught sight of the ring looped on the chain without taking his eyes off of her. It didn't take a leap in logic to realize she wore a ring for the same reason he did, though he preferred to think he kept Maglor's ring there because it was practical. Sentimentality didn't factor in.

"Will you still raise your sword when our forces must march on their territory? Or will you only defend if attacked?" He took a drink of his own, watching her over the rim of the cup. "There will be no end if you do not push."

Eventually, that meant completely destroying the enemy. He might not see it that way, but there were certainly 'innocents' on the Seelie side.

"No." Katsa's voice was grim, and she spoke to her drink rather than to Javik. "I made a vow to the Lady Queen long ago, and I still mean to keep it: the ones who ordered that attack a year ago, the ones who'd do it again—the moment I find them my blade will find their hearts. I don't want to kill when it's unnecessary or when innocents are involved. But I understand. Against these people, it will be necessary."

Javik set the mug down, staring at her and appraising her words before responding. Something that looked like it could have been a smile passed over his face.

"Good. Others will no doubt replace them, so understand that necessity will continue for some time." It had been nearly a year since this world had seen a new shardbearer, but the natives hadn't stopped populating. There would always be someone to fill in a gap. "I assume she gave you names."

She hesitates only for a moment, the names well rehearsed in her mind as she repeats them to herself daily. "Lancelot. Clarisse La Rue. Tarz. The Marquis and Marchionesses of the White Citadel."

There's a flicker in her eyes when she says them, and Katsa refuses to tell Javik of all people that at least one one of those Marchionesses is a friend she will never kill. But she has the sense to keep her voice low for his ears alone, and she checks the room around them—their space in the corner, the noise level of voices surrounding them, the people going in and out the doors—before she continues.

"As long as their replacements have the same will to continue in the same way, then I'll kill them just the same. I know my purpose. I do not have to be anyone's tool, no weapon for someone else; but there are somethings that only I should do, the hard realities that will spare others. That's what's best for me."

He knew the names Lancelot and Clarisse, having heard them crop up over the first year of his stay in this world. The latter had taken Maglor's brother's shard, and he wasn't forgetting that anytime soon. The Marquis and Marchionesses were unknown to him, just as some of the barons were only people that he knew existed in spires he hadn't visited.

Javik didn't take his eyes off of her, nor he did he lean forward when she lowered her voice. Her conviction was refreshing, but that last part threw it out of sync.

"Best for you?" His upper lip peeled back over his teeth. "Know your purpose, yes, but you achieve nothing if it is for selfish reasons. Not in war."

She almost stood—wanted to walk out on him, flip the table, wished she could hang up on him. Katsa slammed her hands down on the table.

"You misunderstand me—" She struggled with something to call Javik and couldn't think of anything, so continued anyway. "More than that, you know nothing about me or selfishness. What's best for me, in what's best for me to do, to do for others. But what I do for others, I do for myself. And there is nothing wrong with that. Not even in war, as long as the outcome is the best one for everyone that is possible."

A few people looked their way when she struck the table, but Javik didn't flinch. Aliens were difficult to pinpoint, sometimes, and Katsa's fire wasn't easy to separate from her logic. Every time they spoke, though, he had a better sense of what she was made of.

"The greater good, of course." He stopped to take another drink, expression souring as he did so. It wasn't the taste, unfortunately, but thinking over the implications of what she'd said. The best possible outcome? In no reality did such a thing exist in wars like these. "So long as you prepare yourself to be disappointed in the outcome you are striving for."

A snort of laughter was all she could manage in response, at least for a moment.

"I've been you before," Katsa said abruptly. She was strangely calm, suddenly, but sounded almost surprised by her own realization. "And that's what I can't stand."

She looked back into her drink and glared at it.

Edited (SWITCHING TENSES OOP) 2015-04-20 02:32 (UTC)

That laugh made him frown, and for a moment one might think he'd actually been offended by what she'd said.

"Tell me what makes you think you understand me." His personality wasn't that hard to peg, he knew, but what got him where he was now? He'd like to hear her sort that one out.

"Does it matter? Neither of us understands the other, or maybe both of us do. I still don't like you."

She placed her chin in her palm, elbow propped on the table, and grumbled into it. She wasn't in the mood to talk about herself and could honestly say she didn't care why Javik was how she was. That she didn't like him was enough: she would disagree with him simply because she wanted to do so.

"You do not have to like someone to understand them." He shook his head, finishing off the rest of the drink in one last, long gulp. His body was still so unused to alcohol that it didn't take much to soften the edges of things. Just enough to tolerate Katsa's particular brand of petulance. "And like it or not, we are on the same side."

Something even he had found hard to swallow in the past. Humans and asari and turians, all relatively equal and fighting his old war? Sometimes he thought he'd actually died in that stasis pod, and the entire thing was some dying hallucination or punishment.

"Are we?"

Javik wasn't wrong, she supposed. Katsa could think of a few she disliked but who were still simple enough to understand, at least as she saw them.

"What side is it, exactly, that we're on?" she asked then. If she couldn't understand Javik by talking, perhaps she could try to figure him out by asking as much as she needed to know. "Why are you fighting? What do you want out of all this?"

Journeys with a Prothean (Year Two)

FEBRUARY

DIASBAILE | CLOSED

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