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[Lucina listens, somber, and folds her hands in her lap, imagining it. gods, despite the wreckage and the death, she didn't think of the pillaging...

she knows this is not her fault, but she still feels ashamed and guilty to have not done enough to stop it.]

...I still don't understand why it all happened at all. I thought...this place was devoid of its own magic, so I have to assume that power came from another world. But--why? What gain was there in all of this?

[It's only a sample of what else Foggy's going to have to do for the next few days. Weeks. Maybe the next month, there were a lot of people that were affected. Suffice it to say he's more than a little tired, right now.]

I tried to talk to Archie. Talk him down, even. You know what he said? He was, [and he's finger-quoting here] "trying to restore the natural balance", or some shit like that. It sounded nuts even to me.

So hey, there was absolutely no gain at all! Just a guy who went straight off the deep end one day for no reason, apparently. [He sounds deeply bitter, the sort of bitterness borne out of anger that's had time to stew.]

[her expression twists with a pained grimace at his tone. she can't blame him, not a bit. but...when she thinks of the expression Archie wore when she faced him, she's not sure she can blame him, either. not directly.

not unless this is truly what he wanted. and that she doesn't know, and that's what still bothers her the most.]

I'll admit...I haven't known him or this world very long. There has to be more I need to understand before I'm at all in a position to say this or that for certain... But the Archie I've met and seen before... [she shakes her head a little.] I didn't see him at all there, in his eyes or in his words. I would like to hold out hope that who I saw that day was not him at his core, but...I suppose...I can't say for certain.

[He rests his elbows on his knees, hands clasping together as he breathes out and looks at Lucina. She's seen more than he has, he thinks. She'd said she'd been in a war, after all. And yet between the two of them she's more hopeful than he is.]

Neither can I. [And then just like that much of the anger seems to bleed out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.] Sometimes people aren't who they seem they are. Even if you think you know them well, there's always something.

[A sigh.] I'm sorry you had to go through this on your first month. It's a pretty shitty welcome, all things considered.

[sometimes people aren't who they seem they are.

certainly. after all, her father's most cherished and trusted friend turned out to be his assassin. but she hasn't gone so far as to put Archie on that same level of betrayal, because nothing hits so hard as that.

Lucina considers that while her eyes are on Foggy, her own expression growing softer and sadder.]

...No, I...I guess I don't see it that way. As a "welcome," that is. It's more...just a reminder. [she turns her head to look out toward the windows.] That as miraculous as this place seems to me, it's its own world, with its own problems, and that simply being free of my problems for a time doesn't free me from new ones.

It's a good reminder that I can't become complacent.

[Archie going nuts isn't quite the same level as Matt's senses and side job—objectively, yeah, it far surpasses that in terms of the physical damage done, the lives damaged, but in Foggy's head there's nothing from no one that could reach the level of hurt and betrayal that one horrible night had heaped on him.

He sighs. God, this kid. She should be complacent, shouldn't be on her guard for the next horrible crisis to happen.]

That's one way to look at it. [A very mature way, too.] I'd be a lot less okay with it, if something this crazy happened when I first got here. Welcome to bizarro America, you have superpowers and oh, yeah, hope you enjoy plants 'cause they're gonna be all over the place. [And, like the dork he is, he chuckles at his own dumb joke.]

Sentient plants aside, though, at least this world has crullers.

[Foggy's sensibilities and manner of speaking are different, certainly, but Lucina finds him oddly comforting all the same. she looks back, smiling at the sound of his laughter.]

Just one of a good number of good things I've already found to like about it. [she tilts her head, her mouth quirking a bit in a grin.] Sentient plants aside, that is.

[she nods to the bag, giving him a pointed look.] Propriety would dictate the guest has first rights to food, even if it was theirs to bring in the first place. So, please.

There's a ton of other good things too—hovercars are pretty cool. Broadway musicals—you have musicals, right? If you don't, I've got a Pirates of Penzance cast album back at home, it's pretty catchy. Oh! And frappuccinos. Tell me you've tried those.

[Because if so then he'll feel less guilty about not having bought a drink to go with the pastries. But he glances at Lucina, then at the bag, and just shrugs a little.]

I had a hot dog on the way here, actually. You can have first crack at the bagels, I don't mind. [What's propriety, Foggy Nelson has never known it. Except in a courtroom.]

[she can only shake her head, smiling and biting on a little laugh as the list goes on and on. lots and lots of things she knows nothing about -- but she does squint at mention of pirates? a cast of catchy pirates?

with some of the laugh still in her voice:] I'm afraid I can't say I know much about any of that, floating vehicles aside. Musical pirates? I feel as though I'd have noticed, should I have seen them. But in any case, [she scoots to the edge of her seat to pluck the edge of the bag over her way.] if you do insist, I don't mind having a go at this here.

[while picking up a cruller, she squints back at him:] Can you...explain that singing pirate thing, though?

I have to introduce you to frappuccinos. Or—Odin, or Owain could, it's exactly the kind of sugary goodness he'd love.

[In theatrical tones about SYRUPY DARKNESS or whatever.]

Nah, they're not really around around. Pirates of Penzance is a stage play, with songs sung by the actors either in between spoken dialogue or the whole way through. Here, lemme just pull up an example. [He digs into his pocket for his phone, pulls up the BlueTube app, and a minute later this starts to play.

I am the very model of a modern major-general!]

They're not always that fast.

[Lucina is only realizing a bit too late she should've sought out some plates or a napkin or something, so she's just going to have to settle for hovering her hand under her chin after taking a bite, soon drawn to the sound of the number coming off his phone.

eyes wide, she leans over to peer as that old man just goes and goes faster than she's probably ever heard Owain himself go. she soon starts to wear an expression similar to those behind the man, intently listening but also quietly marveling. thank goodness there are breaks in there for her to breath and shoot incredulous looks at Foggy -- all at the end of which she sits back, breaking out into a broad smile.]

Foggy, I can say without a single doubt that I've never seen anything like that before.

...seriously?

[Not even from her cousin? Holy shit. Foggy's actually a little surprised by this, because unlike Lucina he's listened to this song enough that the shine has worn off. It's still impressive, sure, but he sang it once before himself. Okay, while drunk, and he missed half the lyrics, but still. It's—kind of a surprise, that something he's taken for granted for so long could seem so amazing to someone else.

His own smile gets wider, more delighted.]

It's pretty awesome, yeah—I'm not sure if they're putting on Pirates anywhere right now, the show closed years ago, but if I can find a production anywhere I'll get tickets and you can go see it for yourself. Trust me, it's better live.

[While he's talking, he's also searching for another number. He waits for it to buffer for a moment, before this comes blaring out of his phone.]

Mh, well, [she has to pause, because talking with one's mouth full is rude.] dancers and performers aren't unheard of where I'm from, but. At the time, they could only manage small stages, or worked among the army to raise morale. Something of that scale's very beyond... [trailing off, leaning back over now that sound's kicking back on again.

she's loathe to interrupt it, but she does point out:] See, that--the sound. That sounds not unlike singing I've heard in camp before.

[but she says no more, chewing on her cruller as she watches. but at that kick line, she stifles a laugh. they just keep going and going after that, don't they...]

I will say, I think I like these pirates better than ones back home.

We do something like that, sometimes, in the middle of wartime—I know back in the 1940s or so, they used to put on little comedy skits for soldiers overseas to keep morale up. Funny little slapstick-y bits, y'know, and little song-and-dance numbers too. Nothing like an actual musical, though.

[It's honestly too bad he can't find the Captain America theme song on BlueTube, he'd have liked to show that off. He snatches up a bagel from the bag, takes a bite. Then he chews and swallows.]

Right? They're funnier and they totally sing better than any other pirate, from any world. [A beat.] What kind of pirates are there in your world, anyway?

[she nods, recalling similar vaudeville from home. mostly informal, drunken affairs to raise spirits, but she can recount a handful of more earnest, meaningful ballads sung around campfires and on the march.

as for pirates? she makes a thoughtful humming sound while she chews on another bite of donut. with that out of the way:] Unsavory and not keen on putting on a show, for one...but then, few are at the moment. Everyone, good or bad, is purely in survival mode. It brings out the extremes in already extreme folk like that, so their raids are notorious to hear tell of...

[a beat. she gives Foggy a curious look.]

...Has...Odin spoken much of our home before?

They're terrible pirates if they don't sing and dance. That's all I'm saying. [But he understands. He gets it, he's come across people stuck in survival mode before, either defended them in court or been mugged by them in an alleyway. People pushed to desperation tend to react in ways they wouldn't have even considered, otherwise, if they weren't in such dire straits.

He huffs out a breath.]

He did, a little. We were both pretty drunk, and I was trying to distract him from a break-up, so we ended up telling each other about our homes. He mentioned he lived in a palace, once, and he knew this girl named Cynthia—she sounded like family, from how he talked about her. [The same way Matt's Foggy's family. A part of it, anyway.]

[she smiles at mention of Cynthia.]

Ah...well, she may as well be, for how close they were. How close we all were, when we were little. And even now, though...that's, perhaps, more out of necessity than anything. We need each other to stay alive, to somehow find our way back through time to...fix everything that went wrong. [her smile wanes as she says so, her eyes down toward the coffee table.]

Everything did go wrong...so maybe there's really not much more to say than what he said about it. The world we both came from was ending very fast, and all that was still good fading faster.

[she looks over at him.] It's not particularly pleasant to talk about, sober or otherwise. I'm afraid it wouldn't do much to lift spirits.

Yeah, we sort of talked more about Hell's Kitchen than his home. [Which was part of the deal, sort of: Foggy just trying to distract his friend from his heartbreak, telling him stories of Nelson & Murdock's early days in college, dumb pranks and all. Still. He wonders if he should've asked for more details.] I had the sense it's—not really the best place to live in.

[Says the guy from Hell's Kitchen.]

If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. We can go back to Pirates, and I won't push. But if you want to, [he shrugs] I'm right here.

[her eyes squint a little at the name. Hell's Kitchen isn't exactly the most inviting of names, is it? it does get her to wonder what sort of troubles Foggy's seen; she too easily assumes her own hell as a benchmark, which is certainly fair, but...

but regardless, Lucina smiles a little, touched by his empathy. she's not sure she's given good reason to warrant such kindness, so it's all the more credit to his good nature. Owain certainly has met some decent people here.]

...There are some good things to speak of there, even still. [she closes her eyes, recalling the wish Owain and their friends made -- to make their broken, dead land peaceful and beautiful again, even in its ending.]

I'm told...flowers bloom there now. Though nothing else may live or roam there, our families have a beautiful resting place after all the dreadful things that have happened. Flowers like the ones I used to pick when I was very small.

[she smiles, nodding, looking back over.] I used to weave them with Cynthia and Noire, and leave them as presents for my little sister or some of the boys. Well--sometimes. [her eyes crinkle with her smile.] Other times, Cynthia's pegasus came up and ate them.

[It is definitely not the most inviting of names or places. He maybe should've called it Midtown-West instead, or something less intimidating, but he's so used to calling it Hell's Kitchen that it's just fixed itself in his head.]

I'm glad. That something good's still there, even after all that shit. I wish—you should've gotten better, you and Odin and everyone you know, but I'm glad your families at least got that much. [And then wait a minute—]

...pegasus?

[with a little chuckle:] Yes. Do you know of them? They're like horses, but they have wings. They're very beautiful, but quite opinionated. One has to be very careful around them, should they not have taken a shine to you...

I know about the pegasus from Hercules. [Which is literally one of the few times Foggy has ever seen anything vaguely horse-related. He's from New York. Horses are just not a thing, pegasi even less so.] That's—it was a cartoon from my world, I'm pretty sure a different company made it here.

[They're talking about winged horses now? Okay, fine. Foggy can roll with this. He runs a hand through his hair, fingers catching on the flowers still growing from his scalp.]

Opinionated, though? What, can they talk now on top of fly?

[ehehe--] No, they don't talk. But they do have a way of getting their point across should they have one.

Pegasi are pretty choosy about the people they want to be around, so you have to be very careful and respectful of their space. One may want to ride a pegasus, but one has to be chosen by one in order to. There's just no way around that.

Still, those that are lucky enough to find a good friend in a pegasus can fly all they want, and many became trusted knights of Ylisse, guarding our skies. It's quite a sight to behold.

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