"Wardens in general." Lark tries to act on the first mistake, but his last two inmates had been well-behaved for the most part. "You've had a few chances yourself."
"Well, now that you're with me you can count on me to respond to every fight you're in." And he is sure there will be more.
"...I still agree with your motives. It's why I can't make myself angry over it like I was with Pagan." A long, exaggerated sigh. "You're a pain in the ass."
Trevor has no issue with answering Lark's questions. He's gotten a little used to this weird curiosity in him, figuring it's what other people mean when they say Lark's a lawyer-dog who loves to dig. Truth be told, it reminds him a little of Sypha with her eagerness to learn everything about every-fucking-body, that it doesn't even really occur to him to tell Lark to shove off.
"I guess the same as anyone else trapped on this boat. I wake up, I eat, I read, I eat, I fall asleep."
"I've been working with Ye Zun. Patching up some of the old family books." Not that Trevor thinks it has a point, here. He just didn't want them to go to waste.
"And you know I give you a hand in the kitchen. And I go to bother Adrian in the Enclosure so we can fight like how we used to. Check up on people here. See if there are any newcomers; this ship's small enough that you can memorize the doors pretty quick. Drink. Yell at Laszlo to let me in the bar so I can drink."
"You know, amazingly, reading's more of a chore for me than most others." This is why Sypha and Adrian were the better readers. Trevor preferred weapons training.
"And the last fight that I got into in the library ended poorly. Anyway, I told him I wasn't going to curl up in the dog bed under his desk and I think he got offended about it."
He glances back up at Lark.
"Look, is there a point to this? I don't really plan out my days. I just drift from one meal to the next. This ship's so small anyway, all our little 'jobs' are just made up. Most don't do anything to help anyone, or could get done faster. I'm shocked you don't have more people fighting out of sheer boredom and space issues."
"I don't want you bored. I don't want you to stagnate." And it's not just because he wants to keep Trevor from getting into fights. "You're protecting people, I want you to get to know them. I want you to help them out in ways that don't involve your fists."
Lark doesn't explain himself to people. He dodges, he redirects, he relies on their assumptions to lead them off target. But with Trevor the answers come easily and honestly. He's not sure how he feels about it.
"Oh. Well, never mind, then." He uses the Enclosure because Adrian uses it, but the whole experience of being in a place covered in illusion magic makes him shudder.
A chuckle. Yeah. He hates it for anything but quiet outings. "When the Deck is empty, if you two want to practice up there, let me know. I'm happy to give you the whip for that."
"Look. Lark, I know you're trying to be nice. Trying to keep me from getting bored or trying to keep my skills up. I just...I don't see you as being in charge here. You're trying to put all these conditions on me in these weird, twisting compromises, but the whip's not yours to give. It's a family heirloom that belongs with me, and if you can't trust that I'm going to use it except in a few very extreme circumstances, then I'd rather we just forget about it. I don't really trust that the necromancer-in-charge is going to not try illusion magic to make you think he's given over the right one, anyway."
"Besides. Stagnating's not so bad. Did it for years."
He doesn't answer right away. Instead he's giving himself a moment to think about what Trevor is saying.
"You know, I felt the same way as an inmate. I am not a man who can turn into a wolf, or a wolf who can turn into a man. I'm a lycanthrope. That's it, that's the entirety of my species--I'm not half anything. And I came here unable to smell or hear like I should, unable to change forms for more than a half-hour. My 'powers' were no one else's to take or to give. And when I got them back, I waited years before I used them on anyone else."
He rubs a hand over his face. "I'm trying to keep this place as peaceful as I can, but the truth is, to do that I have to ask you to wait for a problem to be large instead of you intervening early on. And it's not because I think you're wrong. It's because for any of this to work, people have to make mistakes. Big mistakes. They can't learn to be better if they don't. But they also can't be allowed to just commit murder. It's an ugly position to be in, and I hate it. I'm trying my best to navigate it and I am trying even harder not to stifle you in the process. I'm telling you this because I'm making mistakes and I want your input on how to keep that balance."
He grimaces. It's not that he doesn't understand Lark's struggle; he just can't get behind it.
"Well, for one thing, I think you're trying too hard to make everyone get along." He points out. "You're fucking exhausting yourself: even if you somehow manage to make everyone calm down just long enough to where there's no bloodshed, which is, in my experience, impossible, then you wait a month and another round of assholes is just going to come here and fuck it all up again."
"I don't really see people in the way most of this ship does. Not really. I see people who were thrown into situations they couldn't help where they're just trying to survive, and I see fucking assholes poking them and using them. Don't know if this comes as a shock to you or not, but it's not about inmates on one side and wardens on the other, however much this Admiral wants to pit them against one another, or use one to help the other, or whatever. It's about doing what's right even when it means not keeping the peace."
He leans back. This is a lot of words for Trevor.
"Or! Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm deluding myself and everyone's okay with how things are going. But I think this idea of a peaceful ship is just the first group of people being pushed around and beaten by the second until they're too tired to kick up more of a fight."
"Most things do end in exhaustion rather than resolution," he mutters.
He leans back with a long look at the ceiling. "I get what you're saying. But I spent forty years of my life trying to dodge doing the 'right thing'. I keep getting caught up in what other people's idea of it is...and because most people here are human I assume it means peace. Lion lying with the lamb, all that bullshit. That's really just a dream, though, isn't it? My life is violence. I try to minimize it but pushing for it to never happen is...exhausting. And you're bearing the brunt of all the pushback."
He gives a rough chuckle, pointing at Lark with two fingers.
"Look, I've handled more than my fair share of angry mobs. This ship couldn't even break the top three for number of people who make it up. I know you're worried about me - very sweet of you - but you don't need to be, not about this. I...tend to stubborn my way out of problems I back myself into. So let's just stop worrying about me and talk about what you want to do now."
"What's Lark got on his plate that's so fucking exhausting he comes to me for advice?"
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"They specifically, or wardens in general?"
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"If that's the case, you need to be more consistent. Or at least let a guy know."
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"...I still agree with your motives. It's why I can't make myself angry over it like I was with Pagan." A long, exaggerated sigh. "You're a pain in the ass."
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"I know."
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"Tell me how you pass your downtime."
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"I guess the same as anyone else trapped on this boat. I wake up, I eat, I read, I eat, I fall asleep."
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"Well, throw in something fun to read, would you?"
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"And you know I give you a hand in the kitchen. And I go to bother Adrian in the Enclosure so we can fight like how we used to. Check up on people here. See if there are any newcomers; this ship's small enough that you can memorize the doors pretty quick. Drink. Yell at Laszlo to let me in the bar so I can drink."
God, what else...
"Jon in the library wants me for your old job."
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"And the last fight that I got into in the library ended poorly. Anyway, I told him I wasn't going to curl up in the dog bed under his desk and I think he got offended about it."
He glances back up at Lark.
"Look, is there a point to this? I don't really plan out my days. I just drift from one meal to the next. This ship's so small anyway, all our little 'jobs' are just made up. Most don't do anything to help anyone, or could get done faster. I'm shocked you don't have more people fighting out of sheer boredom and space issues."
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Lark doesn't explain himself to people. He dodges, he redirects, he relies on their assumptions to lead them off target. But with Trevor the answers come easily and honestly. He's not sure how he feels about it.
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"And I know them plenty. Most of them. Even helped a few of them out."
He stares at Lark, up and down, steady.
"The fuck do you worry about me getting bored for?"
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"Yeah. He started to keep his sword skills up and I joined in later."
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"Look. Lark, I know you're trying to be nice. Trying to keep me from getting bored or trying to keep my skills up. I just...I don't see you as being in charge here. You're trying to put all these conditions on me in these weird, twisting compromises, but the whip's not yours to give. It's a family heirloom that belongs with me, and if you can't trust that I'm going to use it except in a few very extreme circumstances, then I'd rather we just forget about it. I don't really trust that the necromancer-in-charge is going to not try illusion magic to make you think he's given over the right one, anyway."
"Besides. Stagnating's not so bad. Did it for years."
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"You know, I felt the same way as an inmate. I am not a man who can turn into a wolf, or a wolf who can turn into a man. I'm a lycanthrope. That's it, that's the entirety of my species--I'm not half anything. And I came here unable to smell or hear like I should, unable to change forms for more than a half-hour. My 'powers' were no one else's to take or to give. And when I got them back, I waited years before I used them on anyone else."
He rubs a hand over his face. "I'm trying to keep this place as peaceful as I can, but the truth is, to do that I have to ask you to wait for a problem to be large instead of you intervening early on. And it's not because I think you're wrong. It's because for any of this to work, people have to make mistakes. Big mistakes. They can't learn to be better if they don't. But they also can't be allowed to just commit murder. It's an ugly position to be in, and I hate it. I'm trying my best to navigate it and I am trying even harder not to stifle you in the process. I'm telling you this because I'm making mistakes and I want your input on how to keep that balance."
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"Well, for one thing, I think you're trying too hard to make everyone get along." He points out. "You're fucking exhausting yourself: even if you somehow manage to make everyone calm down just long enough to where there's no bloodshed, which is, in my experience, impossible, then you wait a month and another round of assholes is just going to come here and fuck it all up again."
"I don't really see people in the way most of this ship does. Not really. I see people who were thrown into situations they couldn't help where they're just trying to survive, and I see fucking assholes poking them and using them. Don't know if this comes as a shock to you or not, but it's not about inmates on one side and wardens on the other, however much this Admiral wants to pit them against one another, or use one to help the other, or whatever. It's about doing what's right even when it means not keeping the peace."
He leans back. This is a lot of words for Trevor.
"Or! Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm deluding myself and everyone's okay with how things are going. But I think this idea of a peaceful ship is just the first group of people being pushed around and beaten by the second until they're too tired to kick up more of a fight."
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He leans back with a long look at the ceiling. "I get what you're saying. But I spent forty years of my life trying to dodge doing the 'right thing'. I keep getting caught up in what other people's idea of it is...and because most people here are human I assume it means peace. Lion lying with the lamb, all that bullshit. That's really just a dream, though, isn't it? My life is violence. I try to minimize it but pushing for it to never happen is...exhausting. And you're bearing the brunt of all the pushback."
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"Look, I've handled more than my fair share of angry mobs. This ship couldn't even break the top three for number of people who make it up. I know you're worried about me - very sweet of you - but you don't need to be, not about this. I...tend to stubborn my way out of problems I back myself into. So let's just stop worrying about me and talk about what you want to do now."
"What's Lark got on his plate that's so fucking exhausting he comes to me for advice?"
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