[When Hansa walks up, he enters Rufus' range just as the latter's emotions take a vague turn. On the surface is absolute calm, under which are equal parts anticipation, unease, uncertainty, and anger; they simmer, but not so strongly as to pop open the lid keeping them firmly bottled.]
[The emotions that hit him actually make him stop in place - what was a playful sort of feeling, like a mischievous friendliness, suddenly gets replaced by confusion, a hint of intrigue. He looks up at Rufus, gaping a bit...before he shakes his head.]
Of course you wouldn't. It's the same with the constellations. Its not like we're in a place that abides by the rules of our worlds.
[He either does not see or ignores the stare. The unease eases somewhat as it's replaced by something more guarded—a feeling of awareness, as it were.]
Yes. These are the rules of another world beyond our own.
[He lifts his head, not looking at Hansa but certainly reacting to the offer. There's hesitation, then doubt, followed by something like want and a smidgen of disappointment before it's topped off by a measure of wariness.]
[He just. Stares at him for a good moment. There's some surprise from him, and then just an almost. Tired, exasperated sort of feeling, like "of course its like that".]
For a guy who acts like he's all business and no pleasure, you sure do have a lot of feelings. [He says, deadpan. Anyways, he's reaching for a chair.] Anyways, stop quashing your own thoughts there before they have a chance to live, you idiot. I'll help out.
Well, of course. But I said I'd help you. What else do you want to do here? I said I would help you with the maps, so tell me how I can help you with the maps.
[The annoyance spikes when the rolled up map hits him on the head. Curiously, it dissipates halfway after that as if to power the frown that creases his face.]
How many times do I have to say it? . . . The maps aren't the problem.
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[He walks up to peer down at the other's maps.]
What are you looking at?
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I don't recognize these locations.
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Of course you wouldn't. It's the same with the constellations. Its not like we're in a place that abides by the rules of our worlds.
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Yes. These are the rules of another world beyond our own.
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[He huffs.]
For all you know, these could just be like. Randomly generated.
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I'm familiarizing myself with the area.
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And what will you do when they turn out to be false? I hope you have a plan B.
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[Though he doesn't seem to be too interested in the maps, himself, based on the feelings filtering over. His attention is mostly on Rufus.]
Do you need any help?
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No. I'm just about finished.
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[He just. Stares at him for a good moment. There's some surprise from him, and then just an almost. Tired, exasperated sort of feeling, like "of course its like that".]
For a guy who acts like he's all business and no pleasure, you sure do have a lot of feelings. [He says, deadpan. Anyways, he's reaching for a chair.] Anyways, stop quashing your own thoughts there before they have a chance to live, you idiot. I'll help out.
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The jolt of irritation cuts through again. But the disappointment fades as Rufus regards Hansa with faint curiosity.]
. . . Help in what way?
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I've got a good head for directions. We can go out on town together and see what adds up, and what doesn't. Maps require footwork, too.
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Some of them are unreadable. The ones that are, aren't to scale for walking.
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Then we just fill in the blanks for some, decipher the others, and figure it out. Like a puzzle, right?
[he's a jock taking on something nerdy don't listen to him]
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Weren't you the one who said that the maps might be false? Moreover, I don't need one to know the area.
[He can explore and memorize the port town's layout for himself.]
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Well, of course. But I said I'd help you. What else do you want to do here? I said I would help you with the maps, so tell me how I can help you with the maps.
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I don't need help with the maps . . .
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[Just going to pluck a map to look over it, casually.]
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[Finally, a spike of mischieviousness comes ahead, and he suddenly rolls up the map to bonk Rufus in the head with it.]
You have a mouth, man. Explain yourself. Why are you feeling this way? Come on.
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How many times do I have to say it? . . . The maps aren't the problem.
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Is something else on your mind, then?
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What you said last time . . .
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[Wait. Last time?]
When I said I wanted to get to know you and not use you as a vending machine?
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