[ Gen snorts, not bothering to pause in his movements as he continues unpacking the many different packages and boxes that have been tetris-ed into his courier's pack. ]
You think I'm gonna understand anything if you show me? [ He'd only stayed enrolled in highschool to maintain some pretense of normality; he knows he's too stupid to understand anything as technical as chemistry. His movements do falter with a slight flinch when he notices the sharp slice of that tail, but Gen only squints for a moment before resuming his work. ] As long as you can sign off that nothing came damaged, then that's as far as I care about your system.
[ His customer service is truly gold star-worthy.
Still. Even that shitty attitude of his does have small cracks. Because once his pack's empty, Gen leans against a counter off to the side to start nursing a glass of water (without so much as a word of thanks, of course) -- and looks up with a blink at the compliment extended his way.
He's silent at first, but the flat expression he wears is rather betrayed by the intrigued flick of a ear, and the way his tail wags slowly behind him, just once. It's not that often that he's commended for his work, after all. ]
... too bad for you, but only for a little longer. [ Gen drains the rest of his glass to try and flatten out his voice, attempting to maintain his usual pretense at apathy as he pours himself another glass. ] I'm the regular for this area, yeah, but I'll probably only stick with this for another week or two, so make your requests fast. Unless you're gonna be looking for a blacksmith after that.
I do. [ He does. ] I believe you can understand anything that you wish to.
[ Such is the liberating, elevating power of science! It is a practical, methodical process that anyone can learn, anyone can use, and all results — provided that no corners are cut — are resoundingly solid. Science is a great equalizer in method, and a great divider in application. As he pulls apart the boxes, slicing them into panels to stack them neatly in the sagging chair he probably never actually sit in, he examines each piece of complex, nigh-alien glassware and sets it aside upon his sturdiest shelf.
As he does, he checks off the itemized list, affirming that the equipment has arrived perfectly intact. This young man truly is a credit to his trade! ]
Ah, that truly is a disappointment. I endeavor to hold on to individuals who do their jobs well. It is an inconvenience, to have to work alone after years of functioning in tandem with others. [ 'In a team' would be the normal thing to say, but let's be honest here, Bondrewd definitely means 'in tandom', since the Umbra Hands were all part of his hivemind-soul. As he steadily checks off all of the materials, he comes to the end of his list and grips the pen — signing off, with a tidy, flowing script. Finishing the task, he examines the list — diligently, and then places it on the desk. Facing Gen.
He does not speak as though he is aiming to rush the young man out the door, though. ]
A blacksmith. [ If his voice had any ebb and flow to it, he might sound mildly chiding, like a father scolding his child for not having enough faith in himself. Instead, he is brutally straightforward, robotic: ] A trade in which a master smith takes an apprentice under their tutelage, and show them a craft. That you learned such a trade, means that your assessment of yourself in regards to my alembic system is decidedly incorrect.
[ He briefly brings his hands together, a staccato burst of applause. ]
I am always in need of someone willing to assist me with repairs to my armor. It is a complex system, of both metal and organism, and additional hands always have made light of such work. See?
[ And that is the point where he rounds the desk once more, heaving the great, dark bulk of himself elegantly and gracefully towards Gen, holding his arms out now, to allow the dog-eared young man to see the pieces of his armor that are already suffering damage. Old, filed-down chunks torn from the knuckle guards, the helm scored with both nicks and the intricate, thinly-etched mark of a Kenosian Stargazer. ]
[ Still sipping at his second glass of water, Gen picks up the form first to make sure the signature's in the right spot and there's nothing else that needs filling out. And once he's confirmed it, he puts the glass down so he can fold it and tuck it away into his pocket. Job complete, then.
And aside from an idle flick of the ear, he listens to what Bondrewd says in relative silent -- it would be polite if he weren't still slowly nursing his drink, deliberately giving a rude slurp when he hears that praise (?) about his new choice in jobs.
It's only when Bondrewd finishes speaking that he drains the rest of his glass, puts it down, and leans more heavily against the counter before drawling, ]
-- sweettalking me doesn't get you shit. I'm just an apprentice for now. Go waste your breath talking nice to my boss if you want a discount or something.
[ His tail sure isn't wagging any more, because -- that first little compliment he could have dismissed as a nice fluke, but nobody's this pleasant to him for this long without some sort of ulterior motive. Whether it's a teacher attempting to rein him in by treating him with simpering cowardice, or one of his father's employees trying to win him over to their side for an extra day off, there's always something at stake. He's not the type of person that others are nice to, and he knows it.
And of course, he doesn't take kindly to people he thinks are trying to take advantage of him. The counter creaks when he shifts his weight against it, and Gen cants his head to give Bondrewd a crooked smirk. ]
Or, what. You some sort of creep trying to lure people in? S'that why you put on this -- [ languidly waving a hand at Bondrewd's everything ] -- whole show in your horror movie warehouse? [ He's just spouting bullshit, deliberately making himself unpleasant, but those last words still peter off into a laugh because -- real funny. As if he'd ever fall prey to some bullshit like that. ] Nice try, but try it on someone else, instead.
Aah, I see. You must think I am trying to flatter you. You are not the first person to make such a claim.
[ Truly, Bondrewd has made a number of brows knit and lips curl already, as he speaks not in insipid praise and fawning adoration, but in experience, fact, method. Gen drawls at him, resistant to whatever perception he has developed of Bondrewd's mild 'pleasantries' and intent, while he remains utterly unaffected by the twisting tone that has been aimed in his direction. Badly, he wants to rest his hand upon this young man's head already, and ruffle the space between those dark ears; how cute they are, and how vivacious he is proving himself to be! ]
Not at all. You are free to leave, whenever you would like to. Do be sure to finish drinking your fill, before you go. I am speaking less to 'sweettalk' you, and more out of factual evidence. Many of my subordinates in the Abyss were naught but rogues before they came to the Ido Front. They were uneducated, difficult young men and women who said things similar to what you just did. Each one of them was able to change their lives, to their own satisfaction.
[ Ha ha! Aren't they cute! ]
I am only telling you what I told them, Mister Courier. You reminded me of them, very much. I loved them all, and dearly.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
You think I'm gonna understand anything if you show me? [ He'd only stayed enrolled in highschool to maintain some pretense of normality; he knows he's too stupid to understand anything as technical as chemistry. His movements do falter with a slight flinch when he notices the sharp slice of that tail, but Gen only squints for a moment before resuming his work. ] As long as you can sign off that nothing came damaged, then that's as far as I care about your system.
[ His customer service is truly gold star-worthy.
Still. Even that shitty attitude of his does have small cracks. Because once his pack's empty, Gen leans against a counter off to the side to start nursing a glass of water (without so much as a word of thanks, of course) -- and looks up with a blink at the compliment extended his way.
He's silent at first, but the flat expression he wears is rather betrayed by the intrigued flick of a ear, and the way his tail wags slowly behind him, just once. It's not that often that he's commended for his work, after all. ]
... too bad for you, but only for a little longer. [ Gen drains the rest of his glass to try and flatten out his voice, attempting to maintain his usual pretense at apathy as he pours himself another glass. ] I'm the regular for this area, yeah, but I'll probably only stick with this for another week or two, so make your requests fast. Unless you're gonna be looking for a blacksmith after that.
no subject
[ Such is the liberating, elevating power of science! It is a practical, methodical process that anyone can learn, anyone can use, and all results — provided that no corners are cut — are resoundingly solid. Science is a great equalizer in method, and a great divider in application. As he pulls apart the boxes, slicing them into panels to stack them neatly in the sagging chair he probably never actually sit in, he examines each piece of complex, nigh-alien glassware and sets it aside upon his sturdiest shelf.
As he does, he checks off the itemized list, affirming that the equipment has arrived perfectly intact. This young man truly is a credit to his trade! ]
Ah, that truly is a disappointment. I endeavor to hold on to individuals who do their jobs well. It is an inconvenience, to have to work alone after years of functioning in tandem with others. [ 'In a team' would be the normal thing to say, but let's be honest here, Bondrewd definitely means 'in tandom', since the Umbra Hands were all part of his hivemind-soul. As he steadily checks off all of the materials, he comes to the end of his list and grips the pen — signing off, with a tidy, flowing script. Finishing the task, he examines the list — diligently, and then places it on the desk. Facing Gen.
He does not speak as though he is aiming to rush the young man out the door, though. ]
A blacksmith. [ If his voice had any ebb and flow to it, he might sound mildly chiding, like a father scolding his child for not having enough faith in himself. Instead, he is brutally straightforward, robotic: ] A trade in which a master smith takes an apprentice under their tutelage, and show them a craft. That you learned such a trade, means that your assessment of yourself in regards to my alembic system is decidedly incorrect.
[ He briefly brings his hands together, a staccato burst of applause. ]
I am always in need of someone willing to assist me with repairs to my armor. It is a complex system, of both metal and organism, and additional hands always have made light of such work. See?
[ And that is the point where he rounds the desk once more, heaving the great, dark bulk of himself elegantly and gracefully towards Gen, holding his arms out now, to allow the dog-eared young man to see the pieces of his armor that are already suffering damage. Old, filed-down chunks torn from the knuckle guards, the helm scored with both nicks and the intricate, thinly-etched mark of a Kenosian Stargazer. ]
Our paths may continue to cross, how fortunate.
no subject
And aside from an idle flick of the ear, he listens to what Bondrewd says in relative silent -- it would be polite if he weren't still slowly nursing his drink, deliberately giving a rude slurp when he hears that praise (?) about his new choice in jobs.
It's only when Bondrewd finishes speaking that he drains the rest of his glass, puts it down, and leans more heavily against the counter before drawling, ]
-- sweettalking me doesn't get you shit. I'm just an apprentice for now. Go waste your breath talking nice to my boss if you want a discount or something.
[ His tail sure isn't wagging any more, because -- that first little compliment he could have dismissed as a nice fluke, but nobody's this pleasant to him for this long without some sort of ulterior motive. Whether it's a teacher attempting to rein him in by treating him with simpering cowardice, or one of his father's employees trying to win him over to their side for an extra day off, there's always something at stake. He's not the type of person that others are nice to, and he knows it.
And of course, he doesn't take kindly to people he thinks are trying to take advantage of him. The counter creaks when he shifts his weight against it, and Gen cants his head to give Bondrewd a crooked smirk. ]
Or, what. You some sort of creep trying to lure people in? S'that why you put on this -- [ languidly waving a hand at Bondrewd's everything ] -- whole show in your horror movie warehouse? [ He's just spouting bullshit, deliberately making himself unpleasant, but those last words still peter off into a laugh because -- real funny. As if he'd ever fall prey to some bullshit like that. ] Nice try, but try it on someone else, instead.
no subject
[ Hm? Oh. ]
Aah, I see. You must think I am trying to flatter you. You are not the first person to make such a claim.
[ Truly, Bondrewd has made a number of brows knit and lips curl already, as he speaks not in insipid praise and fawning adoration, but in experience, fact, method. Gen drawls at him, resistant to whatever perception he has developed of Bondrewd's mild 'pleasantries' and intent, while he remains utterly unaffected by the twisting tone that has been aimed in his direction. Badly, he wants to rest his hand upon this young man's head already, and ruffle the space between those dark ears; how cute they are, and how vivacious he is proving himself to be! ]
Not at all. You are free to leave, whenever you would like to. Do be sure to finish drinking your fill, before you go. I am speaking less to 'sweettalk' you, and more out of factual evidence. Many of my subordinates in the Abyss were naught but rogues before they came to the Ido Front. They were uneducated, difficult young men and women who said things similar to what you just did. Each one of them was able to change their lives, to their own satisfaction.
[ Ha ha! Aren't they cute! ]
I am only telling you what I told them, Mister Courier. You reminded me of them, very much. I loved them all, and dearly.