Internal Struggles

All the usual campsites have been checked. Some are occupied by the usual bands of newer players, grouped together for their own protection. Others are empty, without the any sign of recent habitation. However, just as the sun begins to turn the sky red, night creeping across the sky, there is a hint of smoke on the horizon. It takes a until the sun has fallen completely below the horizon before Xander actually reaches the camp, casting the surroundings into shadows.

The camp has been set against the backdrop of a forest, just at the edge where it gives way to the plains. The fire has been framed with gathered stones, the flames roaring. Standing plainly, lit by the fire, is Moko, who has a feed bag attached to beak. The camp has been set out with a bed roll. However, it may be the smell of blood that strikes Xander's nose first.

It would take a moment to find the source of it. There is a splash of blood against a tree stump nearby. Atop the stump, there is what appears to be a large chunk of meat, a blade shoved down into it. And atop the blade... is perched a single, black crow. It turns towards him, then lets out an audible 'caw'.

That is when another sound joins the crackling of the fire. Footsteps. Perhaps drawn by the alert from the crow, a shadowy form walks out from the treeline. As he approaches, it is bloody hands that are seen first, a rag being passed over his fingers, cleaning them from whatever deed had tainted them. Then, as he comes into the light, fire reflects off of those normally gray-scale features. Flames glint in silver eyes.

"What are you doing here..." Rylen's voice, though without it's usual humor. It has a darker edge to it.

    The sun was setting and the shadow crawls over the land. Xander refused to turn back, no matter how cold the air was becoming. As he approached the camp, the smell of blood mixed with the smell of smoke wafted into his nostrils.

The Salamander released a low growl, his eyes continued to scan around, as his attention was turn to the crow above as it caw'ed at his arrival. His eyes studied the bird, to the slap of meat. How was it bleeding? Why was he smelling this blood.

    .... Blood... how could there be...

    Xander went to rest his hand on his forehead, which was about the time her heard the footsteps. He turned his attention from the dripping blood to the man walking out from the darkness. Seeing that burning light in those silver eyes.

This was a very angry Rylen and at this moment, the Salamander knew he had to choose what he said very carefully. This meant a moment of silence. His own eyes moving side to side slightly, searching for the words in his own messed up head.

Xander placed up his hands, slowly, he took a step back, "Rylen," He said his name calmly, "I-- don't know what I said to cause your anger... But... I want to, as a friend, whatever friendship /might/ be there, to correct that."

    He took another step back, he could feel at that point a drip of blood down his face. His body tensed; Why did it /have/ to be bleeding?!

"I-I need... to understand... what... happened and try to set... Things right. Okay? Even if-- that means.. leaving here without... that restored, possible, friendship... I... don't," Another drip of blood, which caused the Salamander to close his eyes, which was a near mistake, as his teeth grit, he forced himself to look at Rylen. "I... I don't... want to be... your... enemy."

Where Xander's anger is a powder keg, hot and intense, with the very real possibility of collateral damage when it explodes, Rylen's anger is like a knife. Cold and quiet, but no less intense and just as dangerous. It is a side of the man that very few get to see, and this Salamander has pushed it to the forefront as a result of only their second meeting. It does not bode well...

There is a sudden sound, the ruffle of feathers as the crow takes wing. Without so much as a command, the bird flaps over to alight onto Rylen's forearm, settling again on that leather band that wraps one wrist. Though his eyes stay locked on Xander, his other hand reaches to a pouch at his waist, removing something which he then offers out to the bird. It takes it, then launches back into the air, lurking somewhere in the canopy of nearby trees.

A reward? Perhaps the bird is trained to watch the camp and alert him to tresspassers. That would certainly explain the earlier 'caw' of warning and Rylen's return.

Those intense eyes stare across the firelight. "So you can say my name without cursing it in the process." Each of the Pooka's movements seems to be slow, calculating, as if he were waiting for any sign of aggression, prepared to react in turn. It isn't the attitude one might expect from a performer. No, this is closer to a soldier walking into a dangerous situation, prepared for whatever threat might come out of the darkness.

"Really?" There is skepticism in his voice, "The man who sat there, grinning like a devil as he told me that he plays mind games to get information to use against his enemies?" His hands curl into fists at his side, "Not really what I expected from you after telling you about her. I thought maybe, you of all people might understand that."

His brows furrow, head tilting as he makes sure to keep the fire between the two of them. It is a defensive measure. "But I guess I'm a fool, aren't I?" He motions with one hand, an exasperated, frustrated motion. "A fool you can mock because it makes you feel like you're more of a man." He sneers then, "You don't know /anything/, Xander Scaleharth." Not Xander, and certainly not the more affectionate 'Xan' he had used before, either. No, it's almost as if he is damning the name as he speaks, just as Xander had done in that room of the inn.

    Xander listens to what Rylen has to say, his back goes against the tree. He doesn't care that the blood slowly streaks down his scales. That crimson liquid slowly rolling over the onyx, smooth black surface.

But it wasn't real, the blood wasn't real. There was nothing there. A creation of his mind. All playing games with him, just like the forest, with its vines and it shadows. Remind him almost of being back there.

The blood he thought he saw dripping, that he thought he felt. The vines shadows looking like cables and even for a moment, that intense look on Rylen's face. The way the flame flickered in his eyes; He didn't need this right now. He needed to focus. Focus on the here. The now.

He needed to correct things between Rylen and him. The ghosts can wait.

    His eyes were more focused on Rylen. Searching still for the words, but his brows knit a little. "I... Honest don't understand what..." Then as Rylen explained the grin. His brows narrowed a bit more.

He and Uta were laughing. He explained how you can act like an idiot to get more information, he peered over at Rylen about then...

"... You..." His eyes blinked for a moment, "You thought... I was talking about you? You are the /least/ of my enemies, Rylen. I was making the comment... fuck.." Xander laughs gently, but it was a nervous one. "Anything I say right now, you wouldn't trust, would you?"

    The Salamander inhales deeply, his hands kept slightly forward, not reaching for his weapon or his shield. His back still against that tree. "Tell me Rylen. Why would I use your sister against you? Why would I /use/ that information against you, when you in turn could use what you learned about me, against me? What kinda idiot would do that?"

Xander stares at him dead on now. "Look in my eyes Rylen. Look at me hard. Do I look like the kind of guy, that would go that /low/, when someone could just as easily twist that same knife the other way?"

    Xander tries to stand up a bit more tall as Rylen gets every closer. "Do I honestly look like the kind of man? Do I? Because if I do..." He extends his hands to his side "... Then kill me. Use my own sword-- and kill me." He sounds dead serious about that.

"When I told Uta that playing a fool can get you information. I never meant that about you. My gaze went to you, because, of your comment about not good at reading a situation and the comment of supposed to be smart." He grimaces a little. "But you are right... I am not-- good at reading people."

"I was trained to see someone and see a million ways to kill them. I was trained to think ahead to kill, not to socialize or fraternize. I was trained to get ahead of hackers and think like them so I could." Xander looks at him still as he says all this. "That never goes a way and when you have a fucked up head like mine. Scrambled, speach patterns messed up, facial expressions hard to show... You say and do some stupid shit you regret later."

    Xander takes another step forward, his hands still to the side. "I am sorry my words... were seem directed at you in a way that made you believe I was targeting you. That I would use your family against you, but as I've said alright and I will say again." He doesn't move this time. "Why would I use that against you-- when you can just so easily hurt me? That-- would be a tactical error."

It's impossible for Rylen to have any idea of the trauma going on in Xander's head, and perhaps, in his own anger, he likely doesn't care. It is a cruel reality of people - that there are moments where they are too absorbed in their own feelings to pay heed to others.

"The least of your enemies..." He repeats, voice low, carrying that edge of something sharp with it. "I don't even warrant being a threat on your radar, then? That's how little you think of me? I shouldn't be surprised." He gives a short, bark of a laugh that is completely derisive. "Just another bully who looks down their nose at anyone they think is weaker. The funny thing is, those bullies find out soon enough that they aren't the strongest thing out there."

That stillness in him breaks as he walks over to the tree stump where that piece of meat still sits in a pool of bloody mess. In a quick motion, he removes the knife, then grabs for a metal pole, shoving it through the meat with likely more force than is strictly necessary. Then, he moves to set it over the fire, propped on two more metal posts. Apparently the mess he had made was... dinner?

Oh, he avoids looking at Xander, at least at first. "You think I really have any ammunition to hurt you? What do I know? You were a soldier. Big deal. You experienced Flash of Death. So did everyone. Everyone lost people." He had lost people. This causes more tension to build across his shoulders. "You've got some kind of fucked up shit in your head? Join the club." He extends his arms to the side in frustration.

"Or is it that that you got drunk and shared a bed with a man for the night. Because you seem pretty fucking scared of that. Not that anything happened. I'm not going to lie about it, either." Sure, he could make up all kinds of stories, but the fact is, Xander's friends wouldn't believe them and the truth of the matter is, Rylen isn't that sort of man. No, he really doesn't see that he has any knowledge that could hurt the Salamander, not in the same way.

"You hear their screams? Well guess what... I see her face every damn day in a hundred different ways. You think it's hard losing people in your squad? Try your family. Try looking into the eyes of a sixteen year old girl and telling her that it's okay. Telling her that she doesn't have to fight anymore." This, this starts to get to Rylen. It starts with one tear, and then becomes a stream of them which he flat out ignores. "Try having to hold her hand while she struggles to breath, and then watching, helplessly as the light leaves her eyes."

And all of this, he says staring straight in Xander's eyes. When it's over, he turns away from him, sitting down onto a log next to the fire, and just hanging his head into his hands.

He murmurs through his fingers, "You're not the one I want to kill..." No, like so many others who have experienced Flash of Death, it is the hacker who created the virus that he really wants dead.

    Xander continues to stand there, he remains very quiet, letting Rylen say everything he needs to say. Once the Salamander sees that Rylen isn't going to attack and once he registers that most of the danger seems to have died down. That is when the knight lowers his arms by his side.

He stands there for a moment, his tail flicks gently. "You know that I am unstable." Xander says calmly. "You know that I can snap at a moment's notice. Anyone could become a victim." Xander looks at Rylen. "It is why I keep my distance from everyone... and those that get to close... I shove a way harder. It is a defensive measure to protect those I care most about."

Xander crosses his arms over his chest, his hands balling into fists as he does. "And you are wrong about one thing Rylen-- a Squad? A team? Those /are/ family... and my father also died as well. He was in the air." He looks over to Rylen. "He was a soldier, higher ranking officer. He died not on the field of battle, but in a damn plane that crashed."

"So yes, I /do/ know how that feels.. and It is why I wouldn't ever use that against you." Xander's eyes narrow, his hands tightening, claws digging into the padding of the gloves. "And do you /honestly/ want to be a threat on my radar? Cause you /can/ be. Everyone /can/ be." He growls lowly.

    "I have to fight every instinct in my body. In my /nature/ to not place everyone as a foe, instead of friend. I am trapped in this damn virtual world with people I have no intel on. No knowledge of. Any of them could be serial killers, hackers, rapists, murderers. Bad enough people know they can possibly kill without repercussions! Do you know how that can /empower/ some people? Have them do /crazy/ shit they never do?!" He can feels his words slipping, the slurs trying to kick up. Xander closes his eyes and he inhales deeply.

He tries to control his voice now, to calm the storm inside enough where he can just focus on the words. "It is bad enough I feel like the entire reason we are stuck here is because of a virtual hacker attack. That this is some hacker attack, to trap all these souls in this video game for some profit or statement." Xander's voice quiets, "... I couldn't do shit then when the alarms were blaring and people were yelling out stuff... and I can't even do shit now. Instead I just make enemies out of people who care-- and make enemies out of those who also need a hand."

Xander then shakes his head softly and starts to walk past Rylen, looking at him. "So, in the end, you are the better man. You see light in the dark. You use your experience to make everyone feel better about themselves... Where all I do is drag people down." Xander fully looks at him now, his features soft. "... I wish I could see the colors that you see, so... don't ever lose that... and keep being incredible."

There is a hard moment where Rylen is certainly fighting with his own demons. It's easy to tell someone else that they have no idea about your pain. To shut someone out completely and choose to deny that maybe others have walked a similar path. For a long time, his head remains in his hands, body tense. Then, from the trees, the little crow returns. It lands on his shoulder, plucks a couple of strands of his hair, and that... that seems to break the frozen state of his mind.

A hand lifts from his face, fingers offering a perch to the bird, who hops up. "I'm okay." He whispers, as if this weren't just random bird behavior but had some deeper meaning to him. He uses his other palm to wipe at his eyes, but he doesn't look at Xander.

Yet, beyond that whisper, the quiet remains for what seems like an agonizingly long time. Then, it seems that the Pooka has reached a decision. He closes his eyes and sighs, "My mother died outright during Flash of Death. It took almost eight years for my sister to die." He can still hear the ringing of the phone, the shout from his coach, the beeping of machines, his mother's limp hand, not even cold yet.

He doesn't say anything in regards to Xander's theory about a hacker attack. In that regard, the Salamander probably knows far more than he does.

"I don't want to be your enemy." He admits, eyes still closed. The little crow shifts its wings, head tilting this way and that, watching him as if waiting for something. "In a different world, my life and yours wouldn't have been all that different." Then, he does open his eyes, following the Salamander's movements with a gray gaze devoid of that usual humor. "But I won't let you bully me, either. I've seen enough of that bullshit in the real world."

Then, he gives a huff. A sound that in other circumstances might have been a sad laugh, but this just has a breathy tone to it. "You're just like him, you know that? You let your pain drag you down. Push away everyone that might come to matter. Believe you have to face it alone." He shakes his head, resentment written on his face. "My father was a military man. Like you."

His eyes narrow, lips pressed together into a thin line. "You know what he did when Flash of Death hit? He pushed /everyone/ away. No one could understand his pain, right?" He laughs then, a bitter sound. "He left an nineteen year old boy to deal with burying his mother. Never even came to the funeral. Never visited my sister, not once. Do you have any clue what it was like to tell an eight year old girl that her dad can't stand to even look at her?" He lifts his hand, giving a whistle, the bird retreating back again to the trees.

"You're walking that same road." It's not hard to see the similarities the way that Rylen does, especially if Xander continues to insist on keeping everyone at a distance. "I don't care about being a better man. That's not the point. Keep pushing everyone away, and you'll be just like him. Someone who abandons the people that care about them, just when they need him most."

    "I have no desire to bully you, Rylen," Xander admits as he looks at him. "I am not that type. I don't threat either, because whatever I am going to do? I /will/ do." The Salamander shifts his weight a little.

He listens to the fact Rylen's father was also military, how much he reminds him of his father, and he smirks a little. Whatever was on Xander's mind; He wasn't letting it be known.

"I am sorry about what you dad did to you. To turn away from you and your sister-- is... a dishonor to his rank and to his family as a military man." Xander sighs, "But I am not going to get into that. I don't even know if I known your father or not... and it isn't good to speak ill of a man you may not know."

    He shakes his head softly, "An-anyways. I... I don't know how much of this I can make better. I honestly don't even feel I /can/ make it better. So, all I-- I can say right now is... That I am sorry. I am... sorry that... I... caused you to feel as you to feel now. I-- am-- sorry that I... am not a better man than your father..."

Xander then says softly, "... and I am sorry that I remind you of the man who abandoned you, than stay at you and your sister's side." The Salamander goes to step away. "I... was taught to always leave someone's side you care about on... good terms. Never on bad... Because you never know if that could be the last time you saw them."

    "My hope... Is that you... will forgive me... and maybe one day," Xander goes to take another step back. "All can be mended, till then. I wish you the best of your remaining evening Rylen, and..." The Salamander bites his lower lip in thought. His jaw shifts a little before he says the next part. "My real name... My real name is Marcus Peterson." Then goes to walk away from the camp.

"Do the words 'hobo', 'clown', 'no actual substance' ring a bell?" While he might not have acted bothered by Xander's words, clearly Rylen remembers them. "Admittedly, not the worst things I've been called in my life." His eyes look to Xander, "I grew up on base, among military brats who liked to tear people down because that's what they saw from their own families."

His expression remains impassive, though, throughout Xander's apology. That seems to be his way, either gentle smiles or hard edged and serious. He lets the soldier ramble on, giving no response until the end. Not until he he seems about to retreat again into the darkness.

"Don't apologize. Choose to be better." He states, voice still serious. The angry edge has left it, though. "Or maybe it's just easier to walk away, isn't it, Marcus?" Yes, in that instant he uses the offered name, because he isn't speaking to the Salamander, but to the man behind it.

    The Salamander stops and looks over his shoulder. "Those calls were not meant in shame or in bad faith, but if you feel like they were. I won't do it again."

Xander then turns away even as his real name hits his ears. His eyes close. "In truth-- he should be dead with the rest of them." Was he talking about himself in the third person. "... My hope-- is that this place will let me have that."

He then turns to the shadows once more. "Death, because that is what /I/ want. To /die/. Not be a burden to my mother. After all, society has no use for a crippled man and if I went to America, given my dual citizenship," He looks back to Rylen, "I'd probably end up on the streets anyways, cause in truth..."

Xander smiles, but there was no light in his eyes, "I am pretty much everything I called you, that you took offense too. I am a hobo, who lives off my mom's wealth. A clown, who fools himself into thinking this /damn/ video game can give himself something-- and No actual substance... because I am a broken fucking vet, with a broken mind, and I can even fucking WALK!" He roars out that last part.

    The Salamander then chuckles a little. "I can't even /feel/ anything below my damn waist, but at least here I can. Even if its artificial. So yeah... I want to die... I want to die out there, so I can just live in here." Xander then looks to Rylen one more. "And the only reason I climb or even help with that Tower is on a promise. That these people, who want to go back home. To their lives. To their families, can do just that."

His eyes drift down. "... even if it means I go back to being nothing again... so.. if I can find a means to die here or... get trapped here... I /won't/ go back, no matter if they turn off the switch." He laughs and then turns away, "See now, why I don't let anyone get close? I am on a suicide mission... and if anyone was to love me... I'd be sending them to death as well." Then sighs, "... and I really don't want to leave on that fucking note. So-- thanks." He looks at Rylen.

"Just-- couldn't let me walk, could ya?" He asks him directly, his voice sounding defeated. "... Or maybe some part of me doesn't want to walk away, because I let good people leave my life-- and I regret that. I regret not fighting for those people. To have them stay... I just can't figure out if you want me to go," He motions toward the darknes. "Or stay." Then toward the campfire. "Which is it, Rylen?"

Rylen shifts, though at first it seems to be little more than him tending to the food and to the fire. Then, after a long moment, he gets to his feet. A few strands of silver hair hang into his eyes. The focus of those eyes shifts, taking in the man who stands before him in all of his rage, all of his depression, all of his self-loathing.

"Is that really the way you see yourself?" He asks.

Then, he shakes his head. "I'm not a therapist. Thought about it, but that was a 'physician heal thyself' moment for me. Decided I couldn't touch that field until I figured my own shit out." Raising his eyes and standing straighter, Rylen speaks with a firm voice, "But I did my degree in physiotheraphy. I interrned working with people who had all kinds of issues. If I learned anything from those people, it's that even if your body is fucked, you still have your mind."

He folds his arms across his chest, looking at Xander. "You're a smart man, I can see that much. But you're grieving the man you used to be rather than looking at who you could be. You could still work with computers, maybe help track down the asshole who hurt both of us. Stop people from doing this shit again. You could help other people who survived." He explains, "You could have an amazing life, if you just stepped out of your own head for a few minutes."

His eyes grow hard for a moment, but there is real emotion behind it. "I don't want you to die. But I don't know how to convince you to live either. There's only so much I can do, and I won't stand here and watch you destroy yourself because you think you deserve it." He closes the distance between the two of them, looking Xander right in the eye as he does. "You don't. You deserve to live. You wish you could see the world the way I do? Well you have to be willing to open your fucking eyes, Marcus."

Then, his arms lower, and he sighs, seeming to shift back in that instant to the calmer man he was before, "Otherwise, all I'm doing is fighting a losing battle." He reaches up, running a hand through his hair before turning back to the fire. "Because you fucking got to me that night. And the worst part is you don't even remember." He sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Then, after a beat of quiet, he adds, "Stay."

    Xander listens to him, his tail gently moves side to side as he listens. His eyes still don't have that light, he growls lowly, but his lips don't ever curl.

Maybe it was a sound of accepting what he was hearing or maybe a sound of disapproval. Xander closes his eyes and says, "... I remember you said you were not... But interesting to know you studied it on some form." He opens his eyes, "And you are not the first one to tell me that, but when you have nothing to live for..."

    The Salamander shakes his head. "It is hard to not hate yourself... besides even if I /could/ find that man, kid, or whatever, it won't bring anyone back." His teeth sneer. "As much as I'd love to play a nine to their skull and pull the trigger." He chuckles a little, "But maybe I would anyways, for some twisted satisfaction. I never know anymore really! I never know if I am up. Down. Left. Right. Center."

Xander looks at Rylen and walks over, his brow raises, "But-- tell me, what do you mean got you?" He then grunts, "Also, I'd like to at least know your name in kind if your going to keep calling me by mine-- which," he motions with his index finger, "I'd like to only be used in private." Pause, "Please?"

"None of us know how long we have in this world, or what fate awaits us afterwards." Rylen offers, standing before the firelight. "What my sister taught me, in her short life, was that you live for the little moments. Those tiny glimpses of happiness." He isn't looking at Xander as he explains this, perhaps unable to know exactly how to say this right, to someone who seemingly felt so lost. "Find something. Some moment in time. The feel of clean air in your lungs, or your favorite meal. The sound of someone's laugh when it bubbles out of them unchained. The warmth of someone's hand..."

His fingers flex at that, and his eyes close, the light from the fire still visible through his eyelids. "I tell you what? If we ever find that bastard... I'll kill him if you can't. Someone like that, who has ruined that many lives, deserves to die." Then, he opens his eyes, looking at Xander again, "A survivor like you? You deserve to live."

At least, that is his view on matters. As the Salamander approaches, there is no tenseness in the man's body. He is no longer braced for an attack. He just watches. "Hard as it is to believe, I've been where you are, once." Rylen taps the side of his own head. "I know how dark that place is. I know what it is like to feel like you've lost everything." He touches a hand to his chest, over his heart, "I don't want anyone to feel like that."

At the prompting about his name, Rylen does laugh. It is the first amused sound to leave his lips since Xander arrived. "My name... huh?" It doesn't last long, though, and is followed by a sigh. "My name is Kiyoshi Takayama." He then adds, "Yoshi, to friends."

The rest may depend on just how much Xander knows or remembers. Takayama isn't that uncommon a name, but there had been a Commander Takayama who worked with the SDF. He had a son who lived on base, though he was younger than Marcus by seven years or so. Enough for an older boy simply not to have ever taken notice. The commander's son had his fair share of bullies, though the exact reason why he got picked on might have been lost to time. Yet, there might be something. Maybe a passing memory of a japanese boy, with a bloodied nose and an intense expression that looks all too familiar.

    "Yoshi huh?" Xander asks before moving over to sit down at last, seeming a little worn down and tired after their emotional back and forth. "... I think I remember a Takayama. I didn't cross his path, but I had a friend who /knew/ of him and I got to hear all about him." Xander admits.

"Though... after the Flash, I was out for a week or two, I think it was... and I was honorable discharged given how much rehab time I required." Xander grunts, "Hell, I couldn't even really speak when I came back around, let alone move at all... So no clue what happened on base after."

Xander closed his eyes, "Two of my best friends, including my crush, never talked about base life after that. Worried I wouldn't handle it well and they were right too." He opens his eyes once more. "Hard to... remember much though. May-- have even seen you as kid, but," He places his hand on his forehead. "... Hard to get it all straight the more I think back."

"Like the little dinosaur." Rylen confirms, and for just a moment, he manages to keep a straight face. Then, the corner of his mouth curls upward. At least it is a glimpse of the man he normally is. "It's fine, though. I'm not going to go blabbing your real world name to the massses. I figure there are some things you just don't do in Elder Tale, and that's one of them."

When Xander moves to sit, Rylen takes a spot across the fire, checking on the roast. By now, the smell of cooked meat seems to hang in the air. Either he's actually good at this, or just happens to be lucky that the meat hasn't burnt completely in the time of their little confrontation.

"I moved off-base when I was sixteen and went to a full time training and boarding facility. I was still living there when the Flash happened." Rylen explains, "Never went back. Got my own place and my sister moved in with me so I could take care of her while I went to school. Insurance money paid for a lot of it."

He looks across towards towards Xander, and then shrugs. "At least I know you weren't one of the kids who picked on me. I think I'd remember the face if I had to kick your ass." There is that smile.

"You hungry?" He asks, reaching to pluck the slab of meat away from the fire. It isn't fancy, but it's food. He slices off a piece with a dagger, then offers it out, the bit of animal flesh hanging from the edge of the blade.

    "Give I am thirty-five and even when I was a kid, well," Xander chuckles. "My dad would have my own ass. He didn't like misbehavior and he also didn't like me doing the misbehaving. He was strict, damn strict, but fair." Xander's voice softens a little. "... always fair... and wise."
"My parents didn't argue much while I was growing up. I think the biggest argument was me going to United States for some of my Highschool Education." Xander says as he looks at the roast. God-- it smelt good. "My dad wanted me to learn the other half of my crazy, mixed up blood. My mom was worried it would mess with my education and be hard for me to adapt. I-- adapt pretty quickly. I'd like to think anyways."

    When he is offered the a piece he snatches it up with no questions asked. He chews on it happily. One could swear his tail was thumping the ground with joy for cooked meat that was actually not his crazy quick-fired pork loins. "Twis is amezwing." He says chewing.

Then ahems as he realizes he just about talked with his mouth full. He finishes eating and grins. "Sorry, just-- I love meat."

"Twenty-eight." Rylen offers, "Not that age matters all that much after a while." He doesn't seem to be bothered by the difference in their ages. At this point in life, there really isn't that much impact from a few years. "I'm glad you had a good family, though." He smirks, and despite the lingering heaviness of the conversation, he can at least talk about his sister fondly. "My sister was pretty much my saving grace. She made me who I am in a thousand different ways."

He chuckes then, "She's even the one who designed this avatar." Hadn't he said that he used the randomizer? "I thought I'd have to randomize a thousand times to get anything close but... first shot and I was looking in the mirror at a face that I swear jumped right off the page."

There is a simple metal plate that Rylen has set aside, so he grabs it, uses the knife to slide the chunk of meat onto it, and then sets it in easy reach between them. "Have as much as you like. I pretty much live on the stuff." He slices off a piece for himself, then starts eating it off of the dagger.

Then, he leans forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. "Just to be clear... all is forgiven." Since he hadn't specifically said as much. "Just, maybe try not to be such an ass. Because when you aren't being a jerk, you're actually a not half bad guy and I might actually like you."

    "I heard the randomizer is kind of magical." Xander admits, "Mine is-- a body scan." He holds up one of his own bang hairs, "Which if my dad was alive and he realized I didn't keep myself groomed right... I'd be getting an ear full."

"Your sister must have been the world to you, considering the way you talk about her." Xander goes to pick up a piece of meat with his hands, not seeming to bothered by the warmth. "What was her name, if you don't mind me asking? I-- don't think you ever told me as of yet." Then goes to chew on the piece of meat a bit.

    When Rylen says he is forgiven, he gives a gentle nod of his head, his chewing was keeping him quiet for now, along with his eating. It's hard to say what he may be thinking about regarding the Pooka's words on his behavior.

At least he seemed thoughtful on it. If not so many other things as well.

"Maybe." Rylen doesn't seem concerned about the 'magical' quality of the randomizer in some cases. "It's a computer program jacked into your gray matter, so it wouldn't surprise me if they had more information on us than just how we want to move our avatar." The upgrades that came along with the Apocalypse seem to confirm this. At least, for those who believe they really are trapped within the game. Theories are still out on that one.

He laughs then, a sound that is likely all too welcome. "Well, I like the way you look." His mouth quirks in a lopsided smile. "It suits you." After a thoughtful pause, he adds, "You know... you seemed to enjoy having your hair touched, before. Then again... now you're all..." He makes a familiar hand motion, and says, "No touchie." Gasp. So he /did/ get the reference. Then, he goes on, "I always wanted to grow mine out longer, but it would have gotten in the way in my line of work. Then again, who knows. Maybe it will be long by the time we get out of here."

Then, Xander asks about his sister. "She was." He confirms, though the expression remains fond, even if a hint of that earlier sadness lingers. "Her name was Kyoko." He might just recall that the Beastmaster calls his bird 'Kyo', a coincidence? Unlikely. "She died last year, just before the ALTIMIT launch. So I ended up being a few months behind the crowd when it came to joining the game." It's not hard to imagine the head-space he was likely in after her death.

    Xander grunts, "I only liked my hair touch cause I was drunk and thought you were a woman." He peers at Rylen. "... and you could easily cross-dress as one." The Salamander gives him a once up and down, focusing on those silver eyes for a moment, before grabs another piece of the meat to munch on.

When Rylen talks about his sister, his tail taps the ground for only a brief moment. His eyes look distant a bit, as thoughts roll around and then when he swallows his food he says softly, "I-- can understand that. My crush got me into these more virtual games, figuring it would do me some good. She wasn't-- wrong."

"I am sure--," Xander goes to say the next part, but then softly says in a near whisper, "... n-never mind. We probably should look at getting some rest soon," He looks back over to Rylen, "That is if you're alright me sticking around here."

"Right." Rylen rolls his eyes, "So if I were to run my fingers through your hair right now, you wouldn't enjoy it, at all. Not even a little." There is a small waggle of his fingers cast in the Salamander's direction. He gives a bemused huff, "Soldiers and their machismo."

The suggestion of cross-dressing is met with a skeptical look, "I'll have to hard pass on that one." A playful smirk lingers on his face, "I have no issue with ladies. Many of them in the game are quite attractive. I just don't have any inclination to /be/ one." He grins, almost deviously, "I am quite happy with the contents of my trousers, thank you very much."

He inclines his head, acknowledging Xander's past. "Sounds like you're still hung up on her, huh?" Rylen doesn't comment on his own love life, and instead just raises his eyebrows when Xander cuts himself off.

"Speak, lizard. None of this 'nevermind' stuff." The Pooka smirks, "What is floating around in that head of yours."

As for if he is alright with Xander sticking around, well... Rylen just gets to his feet, walking over to where Moko is still happily munching away at a bag of food. He unstraps a bedroll and blanket, then gives both a toss in the direction of the Salamander. "Here." Apparently, he just tends to carry extra camping gear, perhaps because of his role as a mentor. "Though you might want to bed down a distance away. Wouldn't want to risk mistaking me for a woman again." He teases.

    Xander catches the bedroll and grunts. "Maybe if I get to know you more, I'll let you mess with it." This follows a light chuckle. "And yeah, I do think about her from time to time. There is actually a player here who reminds me of her, but... I know that is a dangerous combination."

Xander takes one last piece of meat and holds it between his teeth as he goes to lay down the bedroll with ease, before taking a bite of the piece of meat. "This, crush of mine, was in the military as well. We use to play Elder Tale together, but, I am-- pretty sure any /real/ feelings was one-sided." The Salamder plops down on the bedroll. "We goofed around, had some one nights before everything went to shit, she was always kind-- but I don't know."

"Maybe I messed it up after the whole mess. Maybe... she didn't want to ever get serious... especially after the man of interest can't even get around without a wheelchair and has to use also a transfer board to move from bed to like, chair." Xander grins, but it wasn't a happy one before he frowns. "... And I can't blame them. Just like I am sure if I /did/ fall for anyone here, they would have zero interest in me in real life." He cuts a glance over to Rylen, "And yes, I know. Doesn't mean you can't keep living, yatta yatta. I heard you the first time, but-- there /is/ a lifestyle in Japan that is-- true. They dislike those who are handicapped."

    The Salamander shakes his head, "So where-ever she is now. I hope she is happy and safe." Then goes to chew on the last bit of the meat he has before peering at Rylen. "... And all I was going to say was that I think your sister would have had fun here, but," He looks away. "... I thought better of it, since, I know she means a great deal to you and it... might be more painful for you to hear that said, then, not said at all. I don't know. Just /trying/ to be considerate over here."

Xander then flops down on his side, with his back to the fire, still chewing thoughtfully on that little bit of meat he had.

"Well, you already know more than most, but... I'll keep that in mind." Rylen raises his eyebrows, walking over the claim the last of the meat. He pops it into his mouth, then goes about securing the camp for the night. There is a soft whistle, which calls down the little crow from her perch amongst the trees. With a gentle hand, he sets her onto the saddle of the peko, then gives a hand signal. "She'll alert us if there is any trouble."

Then, he walks over to his own bedroll, sitting down onto it. He listens, thoughtful as he pulls blankets up over his legs. "Only dangerous if your familiarity makes you assume a person will act or feel a certain way." He has only met a small fraction of Xander's friends, so it's hard to imagine which girl he might be referencing. Shiruba maybe? Hrm.

"I'm probably not the best person to give advice on relationships. My life never left much time for it. First training, then taking care of my sister and juggling school. It wasn't really until after she passed away that I realized how lonely it's been." He looks at Xander, eyes meeting briefly before he says, "But it seems to me, if two people love each other, none of that should really matter."

He flops back into his bedroll then, looking up at the stars. Stars that wouldn't be visible in Tokyo. "Asian, American, Black, white, man, woman, handicapped or no. I think if I could find someone who I loved, and who loved me in return, I wouldn't really care that much about the smaller details." This is spoken quieter. "Screw what anyone else might think."

He swallows when Xander references his sister then, giving a laugh. "No, it's fine. Things like that, ways I can remember her fondly... those are good things." Ry props his head on his arms, staring into the sky. "I still carry her with me, so this world is as much hers as it is mine."

    "That bird," Xander rolls over to get a better look at Rylen, "... That bird of yours. You-- named her after your sister, didn't you?" He rests his hands on his stomach, clasped together.

"Fond way to remember someone." He says softly, though as he looks up at the stars, his brows knit a little. More thoughts, which cause him to close his eyes.

"You're a good man, Yoshi." Xander says softly. "You'll find someone deserving of that heart, though," The salamander looks over to him. "... What /did/ you do before you joined the game? Like, you seem to know a ton on performance. So-- Broadway? Theater? Dance?"

"I did." As Xander looks at him, Rylen's eyes are cast skyward. In the dark, there is just the dim light of the fire cast across his expression. "In the Western world, Crows are seen as portents of death." He laughs, as if he thought that idea were funny. "In Japan, they are seen as guides." He takes a deep breath, then lets it out softly. "She always loved those damn birds."

Which might explain why, time and time again, that Crow theme comes to play with him. His character's name, his familiar, that leather band on his wrist, and even the tattoo drawn across his back.

When Xander speaks his real name, he does look over, drawing his eyes from the stars. "I don't know about that, but I try." His lip quirks. "As for the rest, who knows."

The Salamander's thoughts on what sort of performance he must have been involved in just has him laughing, "I don't know that you'd believe me if I told you." He murmurs, "But that dream ended the same year everything else went to shit." Shaking his head, Rylen explains, "After I graduated, I some old friends got me a spot as a sports coach. So that's been my life for the past four years or so." He smirks, "Though, I'm flattered you think I could have been in theater."

    "There are some amazing people in theater, that can do some really amazing stuff." Xander says to Rylen. "Dance, sing, do back flips. You almost need a ton of skills to do that kinda stuff, you know? So, can you blame me for seeing that?"

The Salamander closes his eyes with a yawn. "I admit," He stretches out his back a little. "... I never been a bird person. Do love horses though... and lizards." He chuckles. "... Never thought I'd be living a life as some crazy half-lizard-dragon-person-thing though."

    His tail thumps by his side at least once. "... Took me a bit to get use to having a tail. Sometimes forget its even there... Same with scales..." Xander opens his eyes and hrms, "... Man... I hope Salamander's don't shed. That /would/ suck.... At least we are warm-blooded..." Then he blinks. "... At least I /hope/ Salamander's are warm-blooded."

Xander tilts his head, "... Then again, if we were /not/ then this damn cold air probably would kill me by now, cause zero body regulation..." He looks over to Rylen, "Its like-- Undine, you know? Since they are an aquatic race. Do they /have/ to go back to the water. If they don't... would their skin get to dry and they start to have problems?" He huhs softly, "... That moment that I realize I kind of wish I knew a roleplayer. They probably have all the damn answers to all this racial stuff."

"Aye." It is a quiet response, "Though I'm not sure if that would have gotten me picked on less... or more." Rylen considers that... then seems to decide for himself that he likely answer is 'more'. "But I did keep myself in shape even afterwards. Partially to help my sister and partially because I couldn't really let go of that life."

After a moment, he glances over, watching that tail move beneath the blankets. "I think it suits you. You even get this little trickle of smoke out of your nose when you get mad." It's hard to tell if he's teasing or not. "Let's be honest, the whole dragon thing is kind of hot."

He's quiet then for a while, thinking about some of the 'important' questions that seem to be keeping Xander awake at night. "You really have a lot swirling around in that brain of yours?" He chuckles. "I haven't heard anything of the sort in regards to Undines, so I'm guessing they don't have that kind of restriction."

Then, he turns slightly, facing Xander, "But I can tell you one thing. Salamanders are definitely warm blooded. I'd even wager to say you run a few degrees warmer than the rest of us." On that note, he pulls his blanket up, "Probably a good thing on cold nights like tonight." It might take a moment to realize where he has this first hand knowledge. Oh yeah. Because he's slept next to a Salamander. Right.

    "... Probably why the cold doesn't bother me much." Xander blinks and then peers over. "... Did you just call me hot?!" The Salamander turns fully to look at him.

Did everything else just go over Xander's head and that is /all/ he locked onto? The world may never know!

Rylen just looks at Xander for a long moment, then lifts his eyebrows and gives one of those lopsided, boyish smiles. "Goodnight, Xan." Spoken with that somewhat affectionate tone.

Then, he turns over, pulls the blankets around himself, and settles in to sleep.

    Xander peers at Rylen, even as the other man rolls over. He goes to say something, index finger pointed. Eyes narrowed, but then grunts gently.

He rumbles as he rolls over on his the bedroll he was given, and peers up, just enough to see Rylen's crow looking back at him from the high perch in the tree. "... What are you looking at huh?" Then pulls the cover over himself fully, while grumbling some more.

    Such a dragon.