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You want to know why that is?

[Because he has an answer he can deliver just as easily, his frustration ebbing away to something that sounds closer to bitterness — a mixture of both maybe, but like hell Fenris will acknowledge that.]

Because demons, monsters, being hunted — that has all been my life for as long as I can remember. Powerful beings who see themselves as gods and the fools who are all to willing to give them what they want? Those who would cut off an ear or a finger for sport? My body doing things that I can't control? It is familiar to me. Aside from coming to terms with the fact that there are those from worlds beyond my own...I am not being dropped into something new.

[And sometimes...he can't help but feel as if he envies Rafe's shock at the things that have been happening around them.]

[ The bitterness catches him by surprise when he still has to nudge Fenris into speaking his mind, into admitting he has a mind to speak at all, and a part of him is intrigued with how brutal and blunt he is with his words and honestly? Rafe prefers it that way. He doesn't want to hear about better luck next time, about taking things easier— That's coddling crap which doesn't do anything but lower expectation, normalize a failure, and prepare for more of the same next time around.

He goes silent, jaw working as he grips the counter on either side of him as the truth of Fenris's words sinks in and settles in the pit of his stomach. There's nothing that Fenris has said of his world that makes Rafe envy him but the experience he's since walked away with because of it... It's a valuable commodity, priceless, and Rafe doesn't have the luxury of accruing it in bits and pieces here. When he speaks again it's less of self-recrimination, more cold hard facts. ]

Landing here with that kind of handicap is all the more reason to get my shit together. It seems like everybody else here— I mean it, everyone I've spoken to —comes from somewhere where this is... If it's not the norm, then it's sure as hell not the weirdest thing they've ever heard of. I'm not saying kind of experience is great but it's still an edge I don't have.

[ Shaking his head, he exhales sharply through his nose out of habit. ]

I need to get better. [ An accusing eyebrow raises at Fenris as he glances up from the hole he'd been staring into the linoleum. ] At the very least so that you can find a use for your time and energy that isn't just picking my ass up when I fall all over myself.

[Fenris's entire body stiffens like it's forcefully holding his rebuttal back. He thinks he understands. He still doesn't agree with just how much Rafe beats himself up to the point where Fenris is frustrated but he understands. It's still an odd feeling that Rafe apparently values Fenris's time so much so that he thinks he's wasting it when he helps him — which he yet again does not agree is an issue — but perhaps he's still looking at this all wrong. So he just...exhales, and relaxes his shoulders. As relaxed as they normally are, anyway.]

And you will. [Get better, he means. He has no doubt about that.] I...

["I can help you" is what he wants to say, but now he's unsure exactly how much of Fenris's help will irk him and how much will be welcomed. All he can do is offer a solution and see if Rafe takes to it.]

We can spar until our knees buckle and our knuckles bleed. Whatever it takes.

[ Rafe aims a withering glare up at what sounds like the start of some whining platitude, but he gives Fenris enough credit to hear out the rest and what he hears...

Well. ]

Now you're talking.

[ And now his smile is as sharp as his words have been, as much a threat as his gaze had been a moment ago. Direct action is the surest balm to any ill he's ever had, a concrete and physical goal to pursue and pour all his frustrations into until there's an undeniable result.

He won't be satisfied until they get down to it but deciding on a course of action will do for now. ]

We're going to need to find some real hardware once we get past bare knuckles. [ The aluminum bat leans against the fridge and Rafe barely spares it a second's notice. ] Because that? Ain't gonna cut it.

[It's something Fenris definitely noticed — that Rafe liked that direct, blunt, approach — but it's one thing to appreciate that approach from your equals and another thing to hear it from a slave. That's why Fenris struggles in the way he responds to Rafe. It's a habit of his to make his responses more palatable.

And as far as he's concerned he never learned how to be otherwise. It's too difficult of a thought that sends him into a panic. He's not supposed to think of how he strayed from his duties, spoke his mind, and metaphorically spat in many a face during his stint in Kirkwall.

But he doesn't want to wear out his welcome with Rafe. He wants him to speak his mind. He must adjust.]

I agree. I have knives, but I would be much more comfortable with a sword.

Agreed. Wouldn't say no to pistols but I got a feeling blades would be slightly more effective than firearms.

[ It's phenomenal, the difference already palpable in Rafe's demeanor. The issue is identified, the course plotted, and now it's just details. Logistics. And he can do logistics in his sleep.

Already in possession: sparring partner. Still needed: weapons, then proper space.

Once those are in place, it's just a matter of will and work to get to the solution. ]

Is Javert paying you anything for that detective gig?

[Fenris nods in agreement. He doesn't know much of anything about these ranged weapons other than they're loud, but a blade seems the most useful.

He only pauses at Rafe's question because the answer, still, doesn't seem right.]

Yes, he does. Quite well.

[Then again it doesn't take much to pay Fenris "quite well". He can live off of it. That's more than he can normally say.]

Glad to hear it.

[ Javert had seemed up and up enough for that much and he's glad to hear he's right. If it'd been any other kind of answer, Rafe would've had to go to La Forteresse for a short conversation because in spite of what some present may think? There are no slaves involved here.

His own pay from the Nest is decent, doesn't mean he doesn't want to outfit this operation solely out of his own pocket. ]

If we pool together, we ought to manage some decent gear. So that just leaves the finding.

[ Which...much as he'd prefer to strike while the iron's hot, it's pushing close to dawn and he doubts that the shops would be open this early.

And oh, yeah. They were up all night killing poachers in the sewers. There's some things that seem to have fallen by the wayside if not outright disappeared since his "death"— eating, drinking, breathing —but sleep isn't one of them. ]

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