Day 075: Keep Busy
Summary: Luther brings Erson a piece of the Mountain, and nudges him to find something useful to do.
Date: 12 Aug 2016
Related: None
Luther Erson 

Ashe's House
The home of Erson's sister in Tondc
Day 075

Luther is due back into New Coesbur, but he has a stop by Tondc first. With a small plaque under his left arm, he approaches the house where Erson is staying, glancing up to the sun where it hangs just past noon, and then gives a knock on the door, calling out, "Hey Erson, get your lazy butt out of bed." There's enough humor in the words to make it mostly a joke, "You've got a visitor." And then there's a beat pause, and he realizes that the other man may not actually recognize his voice, and he adds, "It's Luther."

Erson was, in fact, in bed. A place he's been more often than is truly necessary - or healthy - since being sent home from the healing house last week sometime. But that fact is not readily apparent from the gravelly voice than calls back, "Yeah, just a second," while he drags his lazy butt out of it. The door opens a minute later. "Luther," he greets, curiosity obvious in his squinting gaze. He holds the door open with his one good arm so Luther can enter the small hut/house. Erson shares it with his sister Ashe and her four teenage kids (and Britt when she's in town), but none of them seem to be here at the moment.

Luther narrows his eyes a little bit as he studies the bedraggled man, then shakes his head, moving to take the silent invitation, glancing around and noting, "Cozy." Looks downright homey to a man who has lived in the Warrior barracks for more than two decades. "How's the recovery going, man?" As he steps past Erson, Luther reaches up with his free hand to clap the other man on the shoulder, "Did I hear right that the Healers are making you climb trees to recover? That's cold, isn't it?" Yup, he's going with the 'humor' route.

"It's shit." Erson apparently is going for the 'blunt honesty' route, though he doesn't appear upset, or even surprised, at the question. The question about the healers gets a grim smirk. "Better than the salmon ladder." He motions toward the table that's the centerpiece of the main living area. There's also a bench and a pile of hides. The sleeping areas are behind some partitions that could be called 'walls' if one was really being generous. "Sit if you like. What brings you by?"

Luther groans at the mention of the salmon ladders, "I hate those things, man. Everybody's always showing off, and I'm like… why don't we just practice doing something we'd actually do." There's a pause, and then he admits, "Even if the ladies love watching." He moves over to the table, pulling the green and white sign from under his left arm to put it on the table. It is scorched and battered, and he notes, "I asked a Skaikru, it says 'Mount Weather Chemical Storage.' Thought you should have a reminder of how many lives you saved."

Erson snorts a little. "Well, you'll have one less warrior showing off now." Not that he's bitter or anything. Oh, wait, he totally is. He squints at the sign for a moment, then looks to Luther. "Mochoff," he says. "I'll put it on the wall. Probably piss Ashe off," he observes with a grim smirk. "I heard there were still Maunon prisoners there?"

"Good. I can't keep up with competition like your rugged backside." Luther pauses a moment, then shakes his head, "No, that sounds really wrong. Forget I ever mentioned your rugged backside." To the question, he nods, "There are. Mostly children. A few adults. Some will be judged guilty and die. Some will live. If the Skaikru can figure out how to get them out of the Mountain. Apparently, they can't survive outside. They can't even survive inside if you let the outside in."

Erson shakes his head right back. "Oh, no. That is not getting forgotten. In fact, I might have a Skaikru make another plaque out of it, put it up there on the wall next to this one: 'Luther thinks my ass is rugged.' Ruggedly amazing," he amends then. At least his sense of humour wasn't cut out with his arm. Only damaged. "Lot of work to save a bunch of people who'll spend their lives hating us."

Luther points a finger at Erson, his eyes narrowing playfully, "I never said 'amazing'" He pauses a moment, then adds, "Ask a Skaikru woman to do it, not a man. Otherwise it will probably say something insulting. I think even the Skaikru women go for the rugged look." And then he sobers, nodding at the description of the Maunons' situation, "I don't think there is anything we can do, at least. And part of me wonders if we should. As you say, unless they don't remember their lives in the Mountain, we are raising serpents at our breasts. I expect the Skaikru will take them in, although I don't know how that would be better."

"You know you meant it," Erson quips back. At the mention of Skaikru women, he scoffs, "I doubt most of them would know what to do with a Trikru. I'm amazed Wren's skaigirl hasn't gone running back to her station." He does sit down, finally, his big frame sprawling into a chair that doesn't look like it would hold him, but is apparently sturdier than it looks. "And yes, I'm sure the Skaikru will do such a great job of raising the Maunon children to not be our enemies." Snort. Yeahright.

"I don't think she can walk straight. It's preventing her from running back." Luther does a very, very good deadpan. He grunts a little, "She is… not as bad as I thought at first. She needs to grow up, they all do, but she is not quite what I thought." The mention of Skaikru parenting skills — or goals — causes Luther to snort as well, "Give them to the grandparents to raise. They did an alright job with the adults. But the adults should never have children, given that they raised the current crop."

"Hah. Perhaps you're right," Erson snickers back. Then he shrugs, the gesture causing him to grimace. Or maybe it's just talking about the Skaikru. "I have only met one of their adults. The one Britt calls Leo, though he had another name." One that eludes Erson at the moment. "He fought all right, for a Skaikru. And chewed the skaiboys out for ignoring orders. I enjoyed that."

"Lionel kom Skaikru. Yes. And he is not always so serious. A good balance." Probably because he's… more or less the Skaikru version of Luther, only even less choosy about who he flirts with. "But he can be serious, and that is important. But Miss Missiles was very good at opening the Mountain's locked doors, and at blowing up the missiles. They are still too enamored with technology, but I can understand them, talk to them." His teeth flash bright as he grins, "Not get the urge to wrap my hand," the singular is probably intentional, "around their throat and strangle them every time they speak. And yet, they raised the Skaichildren."

Erson makes the connection easily enough. "Serious in battle, not serious outside, and flirts constantly… Luther, I think perhaps you have found your twin," he deadpans. "He's got some balls on him, though, trying to hit on Britt in the middle of a fight. The look on her face…" He snickers, then grows more serious. "I have wanted to put my fist into several of them. Who is this Missiles Miss, though?"

Luther considers the suggestion, then nods slightly, "I may have. I wonder how he got into the sky though? Perhaps he tried to flirt with the sun and wandered up there." The comment about flirting with Britt in the middle of a fight causes Luther to snort laughter, however, "And you didn't put an arrow into his cheek?" A small wave downward suggests ass-cheek, not face-cheek. And then he answers Erson's question in turn, "One of the Skaikru… ah… mech-an-ics." The word comes in Gonasleng, rather than Trigedasleng, "She has a name, I'm sure that she does…" and he wracks his brain for it, eventually coming up with, "Yes… Richael kom Skaikru."

Erson scoffs. "Waste of an arrow. Not like I fear competition from a Skaikru. Besides, it was more fun to egg him on, just to fuck with them." He nods when Richael's name is mentioned. "Ah yes, her. She is the one that gave Rinnan and Britt trouble for killing the old Maunheda."

Luther chuckles at Erson's commentary on Lionel, but blinks in surprise at the mention of Richael's actions, "She did what?" He frowns and reaches up to draw his dreadlocks back together into a tighter bundle, "I have no idea why she would do that. He led the Mountain in their abominations. Unless she meant to save him for the Death of a Thousand Cuts." His frown remains, however, as if he doesn't believe his own suggestion. "Perhaps I was too taken in by her actions, not her beliefs."

Another of those awkward shrugs answers Luther's surprise, and Erson frowns. "I wasn't there." Of course not, since he was busy trying not to die from shrapnel wounds. "But from what I heard, she tried to prevent Rinnan from opening the door to the room he was in. Didn't want to risk killing him." He snorted. "Even went to so far as to tell the skai-kruheda on one of their radios in the middle of battle, like a child running to tattle to father, and then try to tell ours that the would be in trouble with our heda. Britt was fucking pissed." He shakes his head. "I am glad I do not have to deal with them."

Luther shakes his head slightly, "I don't know whether to wish for one of the ray-dee-ohs or to believe that they make people stupid. Being able to always talk to the gonaheda in the midst of battle would be nice, but I can see it leading to the gonaheda being distracted. It could be dangerous." Erson's claim to be glad, however, cause the other Warrior to chuckle, his lips curving up sharply, "You don't think they'll be asking for archery lessons from a qualified teacher? Better to stake your claim on what you mean to do next than to be volunteered for that duty."

"It would be useful, though. If we had these radios at skaigeda, Indra could have called off the attack sooner. Many good warriors would still be alive." It's clear from his dark frown that someone still holds a grudge about that. And the frown doesn't ease any when Luther brings up the future. Erson shakes his head. "Indra would not be so cruel."

Luther's smile fades away at the mention of the skaigeda, and he nods, "Thank the Flame for the horns. I was halfway to the dropship when they blew. To be fair, I don't know that Sonia's gonakru would have retreated even with ray-dee-ohs." Erson's wariness of the future causes Luther to shrug slightly, "I don't know. You might want to find yourself something to keep busy before she finds something for you."

"Perhaps not. But some were lost just taking the wall that needn't have been. Britt would not have gotten shot in the face." Erson's frown deepens then when Luther continues talking about keeping busy. "Keep busy," he scoffs. "With this." He lifts his stump briefly, the arm ending just above the elbow. "How am I supposed to teach, by talking them to death?"

Luther nods his agreement with the first point, then leans forward, peering closely at the stump as if he hadn't noticed it before, "Oh? When did that happen?" He shrugs at the complaint, "Why not? You can still smack those who are slow or stupid. You can still describe the motions, you can still correct and instruct." His eyebrows rise slightly, "Unless you think it's time to go to the Flokru?"

Speaking of smacking… Erson attempts to do just that with a whap aimed at the back of the head when Luther leans in to peer. "You think you can teach someone proper technique by describing the motions? Bullshit. I'd be a piss-poor teacher." He snorts then. "Unfortunately for you I'd be an even more piss-poor Flokru, so you're stuck with me."

Luther doesn't even try to dodge the smack, his dreadlocks soaking some of the force, and his skull soaking the rest, rocking forward until he straightens up and rubs at the back of his head, "Well, I guess that means Indra will want to send you to the Skaikru to teach them then. Can't have them getting too good." The words are spoken with a cheeky grin, but then he shrugs, "I'm not here to bust your balls though, man. Just wanted to deliver the reminder and see how you were hanging in there."

It wasn't a hard hit, more of a playful smack. Erson snorts then. "I won't be holding my breath on her sending anyone to teach them. They still have to answer for Thripoda, and I'd lay odds that they don't. Then we'll be going back to finish the job we started at skaigeda." He touches the plaque then and nods. "Thank you for this."

Luther nods his head solemnly, "And hopefully by then, Britt and the rest of us will have corrected the course of Coesbur, so they do not make the same mistake." Drawing in a long breath, he grunts softly, "I would not want to charge the new skaigeda. The lightning fence, more rifles, and I respect the Guard… until they run out of bullets. It would be ugly. I would rather starve them out if it came to that." Reaching over to clap the archer on the shoulder again, he shrugs, "We take care of our own, Erson. Heal well."

"Just circle the place with our archers and watch the arrows rain down. I imagine they'd get tired of that quickly enough. And then yes - starve them out if they run and hide inside their sky ark." Erson shrugs. "Perhaps it won't come to that. I hope not, for Coesbur's sake." For it would be on the front line of any war with the Skaikru. He nods to Luther and then rises to see him out. "Good hunting," he offers.

Luther nods, "I hope not as well." He offers a sort of formal nod to Erson at the benediction, but stops at the door, "Oh… and if it's not too much trouble and you haven't done it already, have good sex with Britt. I don't want my new gonaheda to be grouchy all the time."

Erson is usually pretty good-natured about such ribbing, as he demonstrated with Wren the one time in the pub. This time, though? Luther seems to have struck a nerve. "Maybe you should sleep with her then," he snarks, no trace of mirth on his face.

Luther can recognize when he's put a foot wrong, in the woods or socially, given that he does it often enough when his jokes are not taken well, and he holds up both hands, shaking his head, "Sorry. A step too far. And as fetching as I find the red hair, I don't chase after another's niron."

Erson shrugs it off, not seeming to have taken mortal offense or anything. "Do what you like. She is not my houman, I have no claim on her," he says in a voice that tries not to give a damn. A perceptive individual might notice a hint of regret beneath the irritation flaring from that raw nerve. "Good luck in Coesbur."

Luther shakes his head slowly, but accepts the other man's words, considering in silence for a long moment before he carefully notes, "Sometimes, we have to work for what we want. But I'm a lazy man, so I'm just going to tell you to keep Tondc from going to the birds while I'm gone." And then Luther reaches to clasp the other man's wrist, offering the traditional warrior's greeting and farewell no matter the other man's injuries.

Erson extends his hand to return the gesture. "And sometimes we have to give up what we want for the sake of others," he counters. "I'll keep the salmon ladder in good repair for when you return."

"If it's best for the community." Luther offers a snort at the last point though, but allows it to go without comment, turning to depart.

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