Figuring Life Out
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"So, what do we have here?" The new arrival asked, strolling into the heated glares shared betwixt the two fighters. "Something on your minds?"
Tione and the werewolf broke off their little staring contest as the tanned woman approached them, each of them reluctantly straightening up. Revan wasn't too sure on the hierarchy around the campsite, but it was clear that the two combatants held some degree of respect for the eye patched female, or at the very least were willing to listen to her words of wisdom. The grey haired male kept looking over at Revan and snarling, flashing his overly sharp fangs, yet never made a single move towards him. For the few moments Revan had been around him, this was something that could've probably only been done by the arrival of someone with power and or authority. The werewolf didn't seem like someone who took orders from those without it.
The young teen took a mental note of her as he silently watched the three of them interact with each other.
"Not at all. Just kicking a mutt back into it's place." Tione said matter of factly, cracking her knuckles, imitating Bete's previous actions. "Nothing to see here."
Bete sneered, leaning forward. "Go ahead and give it your best shot, damned Amazon."
"You two can settle your differences some other time," Tsubaki Collbrande instructed, her tone leaving little room for any sort of argument. "Bete, Finn wants to see you in the main tent. Sounded pretty important."
"I'll go when I settle things here."
"Alright," Tsubaki shrugged slightly, seemingly no longer concerned with either one of them. "You can explain it to Finn later as to why you're late."
The werewolf's sneer slowly faded, a look that was quickly replaced with one of irritation. Without uttering a single word to either one of them, grumbling under his breath, Bete slipped past the two of them and headed straight towards Revan. Getting up close and personal, the youth could make out every single detail of Bete's face, his breath ruffling the top of Revan's hair. If he hadn't known that the werewolf wouldn't attack him in the current scenario, then he might have actually been a tad worried. All it would take was one punch, not even a well placed one, and he would be napping with the fishes, sleeping the big sleep. Simple logic told him that it was best to keep his mouth shut, to not upset him lest the beast actually lash out.
"You EVER touch me again," Bete pressed his index finger into Revans chest, amber colored eyes filled with anger. "And I'll kill you. A weakling like you shouldn't even be in the dungeon, let alone standing in front of me."
"I think you need a breath mint," Revan rebuttaled, unable to resist, common sense flying out the window.
Immediately, the youth was met with a shove, a firm and sturdy hand to the chest that probably wouldn't have done much to someone on the same level as those Revan had been walking around with previously. But to him, it was as if he had gotten hit with a cannon, the shove itself launching him a few feet away and right back into the ground he had just gotten up from. Afterwards, despite quickly recovering from what should have been a casual push, Revan just remained where he was, faceup, staring at the sparkling jewel of a ceiling. He could still hear Bete walking away, his armor clinking with every step he took.
"Waste of my damn time," Was the last thing Revan was able to make out before the angry tone of voice faded out completely.
(("Worth it.")) Revan affirmed, almost cracking a smile.
He wasn't sure how long he remained on the ground after that, Revan's eyes closing shortly after Bete had left the area. He merely stayed where he was as he processed what he had learned, mainly the bits and pieces about the existence of one called Finn, the nameless one eyed woman, the pointy eared Riveria, the demihuman called Bete, and the Hiryute sisters. There was so much information to compile and arrange that it would probably take Revan a few minutes to get it all properly organized. Even then, most of the intel he possessed involved heavy speculation due to some details being incomplete and other parts completely missing.
He was in a fantasy world. That much seemed pretty clear cut.
Given the fantastic location (Rivera and the ever mysterious dungeon), the different species (Bete the wolf boy and Riveria the elf), the monsters, and the weapon wielding adventurers, it was hard to believe anything else. As a firm believer in reasoning and logic, Revan had tried to write this notion off since the moment he had reawakened from his forced nap, ensnared in thick coils of rope. It just hadn't seemed possible, something that defied the youths very perception on reality, that one would see in countless fantasy based media and literature. However, the more he came to see, the more his own confidence began to waver, challenging his own beliefs and forcing him to reconsider his views.
The proof was in the pudding, and he had to accept it whether he like it or not. The banged up wall on Rivera, the elf and demihuman, Familia's, the very existence of the Loki campsite.
It all pointed towards fantasy being his new reality.
With those thoughts in mind, Revan began tackling everything he learned from the top, shattering what he knew and rearranging the puzzle pieces with a fictional based mindset involved.
For starters, he needed to ascertain where he was.
Based on his current level of knowledge, the teen was about 18 floors deep in a place known as THE dungeon, not A dungeon, meaning there was only one, or at least the only one the Loki Familia was aware of. It was a spot that either spawned or contained monsters within it's depths, though a consistent spawning seemed more probable as Revan highly doubted the adventurers would make repeated trips to an already ransacked dungeon. Rivera had supposedly been rebuilt over 300 times since the initial build and that wouldn't make any logical sense unless the monsters doing it could respawn. In addition, with constant reformation, it would give the Familia reason enough to make trips down into the dungeons interior since they could kill the monsters and harvest items or food from them. Would also explain why everyone Revan met was so damn strong.
They had to fight monsters every time they went underground, meaning that choice Revan made to provoke wolf boy had been an extremely bad call. Bete probably could've crushed his head like a grape and kept on with his day, barely batting an eye.
He wasn't weak like Revan himself was.
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"I'll kill you. A weakling like you shouldn't even be in the dungeon, let alone standing in front of me."
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Adventurers aside, the dungeon seemed to be an expansive place, spanning more than 18 floors beneath the surface of the earth. Based on what Riveria stated, the amount of floors could easily tally up to 30, 40, or even 50.
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"Monsters can come from the lower floors."
"Depending on the number, they could easily overwhelm those staying on the 18th Floor.
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The words seemed to indicate there being more than just a couple floors past the 18th. While presumptuous to guess it was more than 20, Revan was going to stick with a cap of 40 until further information proved otherwise. Following the logic of loot based RPG games his sister played, Revan assumed the lower the floor, the stronger the monster, but again, that was just a mere theory. If it was true though, there was far more levels to the dungeon then a mere 20 or even 40.
Poke. Poke.
Revan faltered for a second, his inner thoughts screeching to a sudden halt as something, or rather someone, pressed against his face. He had been so immersed in finally getting somewhere with his predicament that he had completely forgone reality, not even sensing when someone had approached him.
"You...alive?" A soft, slightly familiar voice asked before Revan felt another press to the cheek.
Slowly opening his eyes, the black haired youth greeted the world once again, the light blinding him for a split second before rapidly adjusting to it. Crouched beside him, still poking his cheek, was the blonde girl from before, the one who has been traveling with Tiona and Riveria.
Revan hadn't given her too much thought before, but now he was pretty much forced to given how close she was in proximity. Granted, it wasn't like he was complaining, especially given how cute she actually was when given a second look.
If he remembered correctly, her name was Eyes. A weird name but he wasn't about to make a comment on that. Would've been the pot calling the kettle black.
The girl was around his height, albeit a full 10cm shorter. Golden blonde hair that extended slightly past the waist, hues the same color as her flowing locks, and a rather fair complexion. She wore a white and black dress, though one that more closely resembled a cloth as she had some legging shorts underneath, along with a defining weapon that looked closer to a rapier than an actual sword. Positioned over the battle cloth was a head guard, breastplate, arm guards, hip guards, and knee guards. Her blue boots ran up the length of thighs, providing coverage to every part of her skin, save for the small bit exposed beneath her battle dress. All in all, she was quite gorgeous and matched the adventurer aesthetic to a tee.
Poke. Poke.
Revan fixed his void like hues onto her golden orbs as she, once again, jabbed softly into the side of his face.
"I'm awake," He mumbled, speaking through the finger pushing his cheek in.
"I know." Ais responded, pulling her hand away. Her face was difficult to read, the lack of emotion on her face making her an indiscernible oddity. Her body language gave nothing away either.
"Then why are you poking me?"
Ais didn't respond immediately, a sprinkling curiosity appearing on her visage, the first emotion Revan had seen on her since he opened his eyes moments ago. She didn't seem like the expressive type so the black haired youth just rolled with, laying where he was as she contemplated an answer.
Though, she never gave one, only answering his question with yet another question.
"How did you..." Ais pointed at a spot near the side of his neck. "...the scar."
Revan reached up and touched the place she was referring to, a long sunken gash that ran down his neck, past the collarbone and onto his chest. Unlike all his other scars and skin discoloration, this one was colored a light purple, and it was easily the wound that stuck out the most. This, it was the one the teen hated more than anything, remembering the story behind it every time it throbbed or was even slightly mentioned. But, since Ais had no idea about it origin, he had no room to fault it as he traced the length of the scar.
"I was 'training' with my dad." Revan admitted, forgoing the amnesiac route entirely. He doubted they had believed the story in the first place. "He may or may not have poisoned the blade before the match. Hard to say really."
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