tristan
Ever so slowly others gathered, some standing off on their own, others mingling, and Tristan took note that not everyone accepted the extended bottle of drink. His head turned when a deep voice spoke in an octave lower than his own, brow raised, but a small, grateful smile quirked at the brunette’s lips. He nodded. “I would appreciate that. Thank you.” Deimos was his name, and like Ronin, Tristan would do his best to remember his name, especially if the man had offered his assistance in building the smithy. It would only be right. Deimos certainly looked as though he could offer a good bit of muscle; the man, while shorter than Tristan himself by only a few ticks, was just as broad. Perhaps if the man held his word, they would work out some kind of form of repayment, be it in loyalties or weapons.
From there, Tristan shifted in his stance and tipped the neck of the bottle back up to his lips, taking a hearty swig as his blue eyes scanned the others. Some spoke and introduced themselves, speaking of a land that he had no knowledge of. A plethora of new names in this mysterious world, and already the brunette knew he wouldn’t remember them. Not all of them, anyway. Still, it was nice to have names. In a way, being offered a name was like being offered a sign of comradery; they were all here for one purpose, and right now that purpose was to survive. It was Remi that truly caught his attention, with his boyish grin and charming appearance. The man, a weapons creator and alchemist, offered up his own services in his own vague way, and Tristan offered him a nod of the head as well, tossing back his own wolfish grin. Alright, then.
He knew, of course, that a name could not be confused for a sign of friendship. These people were not his friends. Not yet, anyway. They could just as likely be enemies, and only a fool would ignore that. Holding his silence, Tristan simply nursed his bottle of drink and surveyed the rest of the meeting, planning to speak up only when necessary.
From there, Tristan shifted in his stance and tipped the neck of the bottle back up to his lips, taking a hearty swig as his blue eyes scanned the others. Some spoke and introduced themselves, speaking of a land that he had no knowledge of. A plethora of new names in this mysterious world, and already the brunette knew he wouldn’t remember them. Not all of them, anyway. Still, it was nice to have names. In a way, being offered a name was like being offered a sign of comradery; they were all here for one purpose, and right now that purpose was to survive. It was Remi that truly caught his attention, with his boyish grin and charming appearance. The man, a weapons creator and alchemist, offered up his own services in his own vague way, and Tristan offered him a nod of the head as well, tossing back his own wolfish grin. Alright, then.
He knew, of course, that a name could not be confused for a sign of friendship. These people were not his friends. Not yet, anyway. They could just as likely be enemies, and only a fool would ignore that. Holding his silence, Tristan simply nursed his bottle of drink and surveyed the rest of the meeting, planning to speak up only when necessary.
