World Tree MUSH

    Autumn is a sight to see in Natsuto City. The trees are changing and a stiff wind gusts over boulevard and avenue, sending whirling leaves to dancing down the lane, and it hints of the winter to come. It makes for an enlivening spectacle, though. The wind almost seems alive; playful.
    Yet two figures here among the commuters and tourists do not belong.
    The people of Natsuto are still wary of outsiders, so sometimes it pays to at least try to blend in... and at the same time, there are somethings that can't be hidden. So it is that when a man walks down the street with a tall woman wearing a hood, people stare.
    Both travellers are dressed in formal clothing, mayhap on their way to an exclusive restaurant for the evening. The man wears a suit and a long-brimmed fedora, long grey scarf wound around his neck, hunched into an overcoat against the autumn chill. His tall companion wears an elegant long black dress and stiletto heels, and a similar overcoat. Her hair has been left down, a cascade of stark white down her back, nearly to the backs of her calves, shorter sections framing a heart-shaped face. For his part, the man walks with a hand at the small of the woman's back; the woman, with an arm loose around the man's waist.
    Every so often, he leans closer to point something out or comment to her, but she looks to be a quiet one. She takes in what he tells her with the occasional nod or shake of her head. More than that, it's the silent looks that flicker between them like a language all their own; or the subtle positioning of her ears, which he watches from time to time, as though to gauge her moods. Every so often, she might smile at what he says, or he might bark a laugh at something she implies.
    It's a carefully calculated display; seemingly normal behaviour, however abnormal the pair, and the man's charismatic confidence is turned up to eleven. He's exquisitely careful to be nothing but utterly polite to anyone he comes across, and even the woman is respectful, if quiet. It doesn't help them blend into the crowd at all, but it might soothe any ruffled feathers that result from their being here. As they are now, they simply look like some kind of outlandish couple out for a sightseeing tour of the worlds, hardly recognisable as the somewhat notorious criminals that they are.
    Bit jarring, mayhap, for someone who's seen the business end of the man's rifle, or the toothed arrows of the woman.
    If a certain ordinary girl can recollect those faces, she might guess that these two probably aren't on vacation. These two are probably here for a reason. These two are probably up to something. If they aren't, it'll be a spectacular coincidence.
    Oh, boy. So much for an ordinary evening for Yumi Tachibana.

    Though she has yet to join any particular club herself, Yumi Tachibana is popular with most of them already; her natural inclination to help out, general physical fitness and mental acuity mean she's got something to offer just about any club that needs a helping hand. And most of these clubs are very grateful! Some of them grateful enough that, when they win a contest or a tournament or the like, they invite Yumi along to the celebration.

    Tonight it's the kendo club.

    Their showing at the tournament wasn't /amazing/, but it was solid enough that the school came in second overall. So dinner at a yakiniku place was in the club budget, and Yumi got invited along for doing so much to help them! And it sure was tasty. It's on the way back from that, though, that the redhead spots a rabbit and a pirate, comes to a dead stop, and blinks. Blink blink.

    Okay, so we're headed that way now. As soon as she's in earshot, Yumi lifts up an arm, waves, and calls out, "Hallo~! Welcome to Natsuto, you two."

    The woman with the tall hare's ears blinks, and her ears swivel towards Yumi in the half-second it takes for the girl to call out. Several nearby folk eye her and step back a little at the sudden, foreign movement.
    Perhaps seeing her ears move, the hume of the pair lifts a brow, reaching up and adjusting the lay of the fedora. His eyes turn out to the crowd, searching for whatever it was that the viera had spotted or heard.
    ...Ah.
    At least both rabbit and pirate are impeccably dressed. They wouldn't look out of place in an expensive, exclusive restaurant; they also seem to be on their very best behaviour. As soon as they notice company, though, both hume and viera drop their hands slightly, but neither quite relinquishes their hold on the other, almost like they've closed ranks against the crowd's low-grade hostility. The viera lets go his waist, though, folding her arms in a way that conceals her long, claw-like nails as best she can. She tilts her head, ears swivelling forward to fix on Yumi; as she does, the hume pulls her a little closer, as though he were a gentleman escorting his lady. (Hardly the case, but safety in numbers is always wise, and that's likely the only reason she's playing along.)
    "Greetings and salutations, my good lady." The sky pirate's greeting is uncharacteristically cheerful, which means he's either had a good heist elsewhere, or he's plotting something here. Or, maybe he's genuinely just here to pick up a few supplies, have a nice dinner on the town with his partner, and be on his way. It's hard to say. They certainly don't look like they're dressed for a job. Neither of them even seem to be carrying weapons. "Yumi Tachibana, was it? I'm afraid only some of your names are quite like Ivalician names. Why, just the other day, we came across someone who had the same illustrious name as my partner."
    For his part, the hume slows to a halt and folds his arms, canting his head slightly to study Yumi. "I might say I wasn't expecting to see you here, but I had a feeling we'd bump into one another again, somehow. Things always seem to work out that way." He lifts a brow, just slightly, shaking his head. "The gods are just too fond of their tasteless japes for there to be coincidences."
    "By the by... what's the matter with these folk? You'd think I'd murdered their favourite adventurer or the like, with the way they're looking at me. And never mind how they're looking at Fran." He'd noticed, and maybe that's why they walk so close to one another; why his arm remains around her, casually but subtly protective. They must not be armed after all or they might not yield to the less than welcoming atmosphere. "Shall we go somewhere more private to speak, mayhap? Know you any good restaurants? I'm famished."

    As she approaches, Yumi watches the both of them, not missing the body language. It doesn't seem to be so guarded against her; more the crowd in general, which doesn't terribly surprise her. But something Balthier says /does/ surprise the girl, and she doesn't bother to hide it. "You mean you're not here for...?" Blink blink. "Huh. That's actually a little surprising, I thought for a moment the two of you had tracked me down." There's a brief gesture around. "This is my world. Well, more or less. It's complicated." She adjusts her backpack, then adds, "This world hasn't been a Blossom very long, so outsiders are still a little... well, that's complicated too, I guess."

    She takes a look or two around, thinking, then says, "That place, over there. You might be a little overdressed, it's more of a quick bite-to-eat kind of place, but the beef bowls are really good. It's my treat, as long as I don't have to keep an eye on the register the entire time," she teases.

    "You thought...?" Balthier starts to say, and then both sky pirates look at each other for a second. When they look back to Yumi, their mannerisms are almost dubious; one of Fran's ears twists back, and Balthier's head cants just slightly to one side. "Whatever for?"
    He shrugs. "If I wait long enough, this blasted multiverse is bound to throw us at one another again, in due time." He sighs, reaching up and adjusting the lay of his scarf. His hands are covered by gloves, just a shade or two lighter than the brown of his coat. "Such is the way of things beyond Ivalice, at any rate."
    "We noticed," Fran points out flatly, both ears swivelling straight back, when Yumi points out her world hasn't been Blossomed for too long. "Their hostility is ill-concealed."
    Hazel and red-brown eyes follow the recommendation to the restaurant in question, and Balthier lifts a brow as he glances over the sign, which he can't actually read, thanks to the language drift. What few graphics there are manage to convey the point, though.
    "It will do," Fran answers for him. "Let's be off."
    "Are you sure about that?" Balthier asks, lifting a brow to Yumi. "You've never seen a viera--/yowch/."
    He's left rubbing his side, where Fran has elbowed it, sharply; his grin is hard-edged. "Well, I trust you know what you're doing."
    The sky pirate will follow the girl into the restaurant, lingering back to follow her cues.

    "My food budget is pretty generous," Yumi replies, beaming. "And I got a free meal tonight, so I'm good." She shifts her backpack again, this time leading the way. "To answer your question, I didn't have any idea. But we've run into each other twice before, so seeing the two of you here, it seemed most likely you had some reason or other to come find me. I don't exactly hide my tracks, I admit..."

    As promised, the restaurant is not terribly fancy; borderline fast food, specialized in beef and other types of bowl meals, but this time of night there's a corner booth the trio can have without a fuss, and not exactly a lot of prying ears. As soon as they slide into the seats, Yumi sets her backpack beside herself and sprawls back a little. "To answer your /other/ question, Japan as a nation tends to be a little, uh... wary of outsiders. So Blooming was a bit of a shock already. And then early this year, there was a great big blast, disintegrated one of those tall buildings in the business district without a trace. They were never able to figure out the cause, and most people assume it was offworlders of some sort. So... I mean, officially, we welcome offworlders and their tourist money, so you're not gonna get mobbed in the street or dragged into a back alley, but unofficially... lot of suspicious stares, I guess."

    "If you insist. We're not going to argue a free meal." The sky pirate shrugs, but he doesn't look about to shout down a free meal. The pair follow after Yumi, shrugging out of their coats and sliding into the booth indicated. Fran flicks a seemingly indifferent ear toward what few looks inside she does get.
    Honestly, they're pretty easily bought. A night at a place a step above fast food is still better than the equivalent of something out of a can.
    To the matter of tracking, Balthier shrugs one shoulder, canting his head to one side as he does. "What for? I expect my particular vocation is hardly the sort of thing to be of interest to you, to go by your reaction in the palace. As to that... I expect I could have tracked you, if I'd had reason. To silence you? Hardly necessary. The leading man must have a certain degree of mystique, after all, and someone must needs spread those tales and reputation."
    No, killing isn't really his business, and he finds it as distasteful as he does messy. He folds his arms over his chest, suit jacket also left on the back of the bench, fiddling idly with one of his shirt's impeccable cuffs. "Oh, yes, there are places like that in Ivalice. Every worl dhas them, I would suppose."
    To the issue of suspicious stares, Fran swivels her ears back again. "We noticed," she reiterates, blandly.
    "As Fran so astutely points out, yes. We noticed. While I wouldn't say that the people are hostile, I would say that our very being here makes them less than comfortable." Balthier sighs, picking up the menu and squinting at it. "Unfortunately, it would seem I have no knack whatsoever for reading your language. Order whatever you think is best. And remember, Fran is not actually a vegetarian, no matter her ears. She'll try anything once... but plain fare is likely best, for the moment."
    She seems to hesitate for a moment, seated almost demurely beside him, although her red-brown eyes are dropped down to the menu. Apparently she makes about as much sense out of it as he does, to go by the way she squints at it.
    Still, the occasional stare doesn't pass by her senses. Her ears flick briefly back every time she can feel them; but for the most part, she ignores them with quiet dignity. Or quiet annoyance. It's hard to say which.
    Balthier leans his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers and resting his chin over his knuckles. "In any case, since I've your attention now whether I wished it or not... mayhap you can tell me a bit about this place. No, I've no designs on this fine establishment's nest egg. The first thing you've to learn about the leading man is thus: I do not set my sights small." His mouth curls into a confident half-smile. "Neither Fran nor I are mere thieves. We're /sky pirates/. The distinction is important."

    "Like I said, no clue," Yumi replies with a light shrug. "Could've been to ask me about something, tell me about something, some sort of business... didn't think it was to silence me, you don't seem like the type. 'Came looking for me' just seemed more likely than 'stumbled onto my world by random chance', is all. I'm not worried about it either way." The staff, at least, seems less wary than simply curious; Yumi catches the eye of a waiter, who bustles on over, and offers a simple, "They'll each have a teriyaki beef bowl with onion, and a glass of water. I'll have the iced tea."

    Settling back again after setting aside her menu, the redhead looks a touch amused at the insistent terminology. She'll go with it, for now. "Well, Natsuto doesn't... no, I guess I should back up a little. Natsuto is pretty typical of this world. We don't have magic here, unlike outside. No spells, no magical transformations, no calling elemental avatars from beyond space and time... our technology's not that special, either, I've been to worlds where they have space travel. Compared to some, we're advanced, but others..." Shrug. "I guess we're middle of the road, overall."

    Although Balthier doesn't shrug, the slight cant of his head seems to indicate the same sentiment. "Fair enough, I suppose. This merry, dysfunctional little collection of worlds works in mysterious ways. I'll not say gods; I'm fair to certain they've nothing to do with it."
    The only part of that order recognisable is the onion and the water. Ivalice has no cattle; other creatures fill those roles, strange though they may be from an earth-dweller's point of view. Still, the taste will probably work out to be about the same. There are only so many variations on 'basic protein staple.'
    Balthier tips his head again, studying the redhead as much as he studies the incomprehensible lettering on the menu, eyes slightly narrowed. The slow climb of his eyebrows suggests disbelief.
    "No magick? Not a drop?"
    Fran shakes her head, but the gesture seems to be in agreement with the evaluation, more than anything else. "I sense no Mist," she observes. Her ears flick back, then out to the sides; then forward. Is that how she senses ambient energy? "Nothing whatsoever. Its absence is... strange."
    He slides a look to his viera companion, frowning slightly. "Not that this is a terrible handicap to me or anything, but it's just not heard of. Even a jagd has something to pick up on, however small... hm." Those hazel eyes settle on Yumi, curious. "Clearly you've been outside of your humble little city's grasp, however, to go slinging examples like those."
    "Ivalice has magick, yes. And even the most ham-fisted idiot can use it, thanks to spellstones. Skystones power airships and other machinery. All of it stems from magicite, which is condensed Mist, which is condensed magick," he explains, gesturing loosely with a forefinger. "Fran here has a nose for picking up on the stuff. If she says it's not here... it's not here."
    He folds his arms, leaning back more comfortably in his chair. "It's a damned nuissance not to sense it nearby. Even we humes can," he adds, lightly. "If I didn't have Fran with me, I might consider it a local oddity, or a jagd..." He pronounces the odd word 'yauckd,' almost a syllable between the two consonants, but not quite. "Bloody strange."
    "We've no space travel, so don't feel too put out by that. We've airships, though, and I've been noticing a disquieting silence in your skies. Fran heard something a little ways back, but it seemed disproportionately small to the noise, when we looked. A fair sight longer than my ship, to be sure; mayhap not wider, though." A commercial jet. His mouth twists in pride. "Not quite as pretty as a classy lady like the Strahl, however."
    "Is not every place between milestones?" Fran flips her ears foward, settling both ears and eyes on the redhead. Her stare is calm, but there's something intense and bizarrely... wild about it, like being stared at by a hawk. A hunter. Warrior. "To greater powers even Ivalice yields, and there are those lesser, as well."

    "We have air travel," Yumi replies, nodding her head. "But the kind of day-to-day travel you're thinking of, we have land vehicles for that. In the more industrialized countries, the road systems tend to be extensive, and for the ones that are still mostly wilderness, there's tougher off-road stuff. Air travel is more for long trips that would take hours or days by land, or for crossing the ocean. Lot of people sit down in one big aircraft, go from point A to point B. Or you ship cargo that way. We do have smaller stuff that's more agile and shorter-range, but..."

    She seems to realize she's rambling a little. "But, er, yes. I've been offworld a fair bit. I like heading out and learning about the various worlds, and..." Pause. "...well, I have a search I'm on, but it's more of an 'if I find it' sort of thing. Mostly I just like seeing new places, and helping people."

    Her eyes dance over to Fran, returning that gaze... and almost seeming to analyze. Hers isn't as predatory and primal as Fran's, but the intensity is there, the calm of one accustomed to battle. But mostly she seems to be... considering something? She almost looks as if there's a question she's deciding whether to ask.

    "Ivalice's major cities sport aerodromes, and that is the simplest way to separate the wheat from the chaff. If a city can accomodate the influx of travellers, and spending coin that they bring, most like they've an aerodrome of their own." He shrugs, hazel eyes hooding as he fiddles with the cuff of his shirt.
    He eventually straightens it, eyeing it critically. "So long as travel remains open, one may travel from any city so equipped to any other like city. If one is fortunate enough to own one's own airship, one may leave it at an aerodrome and expect it to be reasonably well cared for."
    While Balthier feigns disinterest in his immediate surroundings, the viera woman meets the gaze levelled at her, unblinking and apparently unconcerned. It isn't that she's specifically trying to be intimidating; it's just how she is, apparently. Some happen to find it intimidating. Yumi does not -- and maybe that's a refreshing change of pace for her. There's a faint twitch, almost a lift of a brow.
    "A question, you would ask?" she states, slowly. Her head tilts very slightly, one ear flicking indifferently. "Then ask."
    Balthier glances between the two, but he has the good sense not to interject a quip or otherwise interrupt. He simply listens. In that simple action, he marks himself as different from any of these other people. Something in him seems to go calm and still, so very much so; a stillness that spreads even to those hazel eyes. In it is the patience of the hunter, the motionlessness of a hawk at perch, watching for its prey.
    Maybe it's something he picked up from his viera acquaintance, but for someone with such apurportedly action-packed and dangerous lifestyle; it seems like an odd sort of skill, the business of listening.
    Then again, maybe that's what makes him so infamous in his homeworld, and so good at what he does, there.

    Yumi's brow furrows, just faintly. "I'm trying to decide whether I should," she admits. "It's not something offensive to you two or invasive or anything, it's just..." Here comes the waiter, with two beef bowls and an iced tea. It provides a welcome distraction. It gives her a second or two to gather her thoughts, consider whether she wants to ask - because asking will open the door to return questions, after all. But in the end, it's something that most certainly bothers her, often and deeply enough that she already knows she can't /not/ ask.

    "...can you sense any magic on me?"

    She asks it both sincerely and gravely, as if just answering that simple question were important to her. The answer is, in fact, 'yes', although only just barely. If Fran can discern such things, it's difficult to tell whether it's weak or just buried very deeply, but either way, it's a very faint scent. It's still, however, more than is typical of this world or its inhabitants.

    For once, the leading man decides to hold his tongue, merely watching the girl from the corner of an eye. Balthier watches the rest of the restaurant, too, as though he were constantly gauging the mood of the patrons and the employees.
    ...It pays to know when it's time to cut and run, and this city obviously doesn't like outsiders very much. He can blend in reasonably well, speech patterns and the cut of his hair aside, but his viera companion has no such recourse unless she wears a hood, and those ears are too sensitive to cover like that. They /move/ too damned much. It would be unspeakably uncomfortable for her.
    For her part, Fran folds her arms, concealing her claw-like nails as best she can. (She'd seen the couple four tables away, both the man and woman looking mighty uncomfortably at them. She may be aloof, but she's observant.) She tilts her head slightly to one side; one ear flicks this way and that, listening, but the other is centred on Yumi as she considers.
    "This sensation, you wish for, then...?" She frowns, but the expression is thoughtful more than displeased. "I will never understand you humes..."
    "...Except me, I should hope."
    "Hush, sky pirate."
    Balthier smirks, just a little, but doesn't interrupt further.
    "Doubt, I sense, and hope as well. Yes, I sense the Mist about you, however faint it is. But." Here she holds up one forefinger, light gleaming on the end of a long, sharp nail. They probably qualify as weapons in half a dozen prefectures. "I know not what that means. You've scarce any talent at all. I do not doubt 'tis not even enough to call on."
    She looks to the side, red-brown eyes sweeping the cafe. One or two of the less courageous patrons look away, unwilling to meet her gaze, but she looks past them; through them. "Small wonder, with a world so dead. No Mist." She sounds somewhere between puzzled and exasperated by that. "How someone is born into this world with a little of the Mist in them... a curiosity."
    Balthier's eyes flick rapidly between the viera and the ordinary girl, and he masks his quiet with a drink of water. The viera, however, is done. She's already tucking into her beef bowl with dainty gusto. Balthier for his part blinks and seems to remember it's there, inhaling deeply of its fragrant steam before digging in.
    The viera, however, is watching Yumi all the while, as though she were some degree of curious about the girl's reaction.

    The restaurant's denizens are still perhaps a bit cautious, but Fran and Balthier are behaving, so they seem to mostly be minding their meals for now. Yumi listens to Fran's response, mulling it over thoughtfully. It's the last remark that tugs at her enough that she feels compelled to share. "...I suspect I might not be /from/ this world," she replies, taking up her cup and staring into it. "I do have one, uh, ability. It's a sense, sort of like yours. But I've only ever sensed anything with it twice. I /think/, I can sense reality-warping magic. That's the only common thread I can find between the two incidents."

    The cup is swirled, thoughtfully. "My memory goes back less than a full year," the redhead explains quietly. "That blast I was talking about, the one that erased an entire skyscraper? They found me in the bottom of it. I don't remember anything about myself or my past before that. So any clue I can dredge up..." Yumi chuckles, softly. "...we'll call it repayment for the meal, I guess. Thank you for telling me that, at least."

    "Mist is dangerous over a certain threshold. The stuff becomes incredibly volatile, and even an ordinary hume like you or I can see it in the air. Looks a bit like fog," Balthier comments, "if mayhap you'd had a Bhujerban madhu or six. The colours are never quite fixed. You can see phantom-images in it. Nasty, unpredictable stuff."
    "All life is bound to Mist. Mist is bound to all life. That is so, in Ivalice, but not so, in places beyond." The viera shakes her head, completely ignoring her companion's interjection for the benefit of their guest. She stares with focused intensity at Yumi. "So, you think yourself a foreigner."
    The viera's head cants to one side, ears twitching slightly. For the most part, though, she keeps them as they were -- one flicks and swivels this way and that, listening to the restaurant and beyond, while the other remains pointed straight at the girl. Whether she uses them to listen or to sense whatever it is she can sense, it's not immediately clear. There's a momentary flick of both ears when Yumi compares her sense to the viera's; a look flickers between both sky pirates, something complicated, before both of them return their attention to the girl.
    "I'd be curious to see what happens if I were to set you down right in the midst of something like the Feywood," Balthier murmurs, rubbing idly at his jaw. Clean-shaven, just the way he prefers it. The leading man must look dashing. Especially for a night on the town. "Mist running wild usually never ends well. It is, in its own way, a warper of reality. It can change a place; sap it of its vitality. Or, it can imbue such where there was none -- turn a desert into an oasis valley, or vice-versa."
    Fran only shakes her head, slowly. "We do not have aught you could test. A hume contrivance it may be, but magicite warps not the weave and weft of reality 'round it." She splays her fingers over the table's surface, claw-like nails clicking against the wood. "I am sorry there is naught more to tell."
    "I see. An amnesiac. This little tale just gets quirkier and quirkier," Balthier observes, pushing aside his now-empty bowl. How had he gotten through that so fast? The two must be either hungry, or adept at finishing meals before the local authorities figure out where they're at. They probably aren't above the noble art of the dine-and-dash... especially if someone calls down trouble on their heads.
    The sky pirate settles for drumming his fingers on the table. "An interesting story, at the very least. Ordinarily I don't extend these sorts of offers to children, but you remind me of someone I knew for a time. Someone far too cunning for his own good, who had a knack for getting into trouble, and back out of it, again. That one is an emperor at twelve years old. What will /you/ become, hmm?"
    "But, I digress," he continues. "To my offer: If you think it serves you some chance of recollection, you would be welcome to travel aboard the Strahl with us." He holds up a forefinger. "You may not, however, join us at our work. Fran and I are a team. Three is simply a crowd. Something tells me you've little taste for such things, in any case."

    Yumi drinks as she listens; it doesn't take her long at all to actually finish the tea, once she starts. "If it helps, as an example, the first time I sensed something, it was a magical anomaly in another world, that seemed like it was eating space itself to produce these weird... magical insects, I guess. The second time, it was this strange being that had sort of... it was almost like a predator. Like a spider that had set up a web around a shopping district, but the 'web' was a second layer of reality that had twisted the shopping district into something really creepy."

    There's a lot more to /that/ story than what she just said, but it gives the gist. "So I don't think it's just magically altering the surroundings, because I've been around that a bunch of times. It feels like it's something twisting at reality /itself/, when I sense it. We'd have to try it to be sure, though." She almost welcomes it. It's a chance to learn more about her ability's limits and nature. But that's for another time, probably if she ever visits Ivalice. "But yes, I'd appreciate that. The travel, I mean. I'd feel obligated to turn myself in if I stole something."

    What will she become, though? That's a question Yumi's interested in, for certain, if not as much as certain others.

    There's a glance at the bowls. "...If either of you wants seconds, I don't mind. It usually takes me three or four bowls to feel full, myself," she admits, cheeks tinting faintly.

    Balthier blinks somewhat owlishly, levelling that hazel gaze on the girl with some bemusement. The tales presented to him don't make a lot of sense, but then again, he can't profess to have been there when they happened. No doubt all of that made a lot more sense in context.
    "So. A malicious change, a deliberate change, rather than a natural change." Fran narrows her red-brown eyes thoughtfully. They're almost the colour of blood, just a few shades darker, like blood that had dried partway.
    "I might be curious to see what you would sense in the midst of a jagd," the sky pirate remarks. "Think of it like a dead zone for your electricity, but not because there's nothing there. Jagd are actually potent. Too potent. They're so volatile that magicite fails. Airships can't cross them; it ends as well as you'd think." His forefinger traces the route of a crashing ship, meeting the table with a muted 'thock.'
    "The Strahl has a skystone that can fly through jagd," Balthier adds, "but the things that react to magicite seem to be an endlessly varied and needlessly complicated matter," he adds, sourly. In other words, there are places even the Strahl fails, and he has to be careful about it. "Still... I'd be curious to see...
    "...if you sense aught at all," Fran finishes for him, those serious red-brown eyes lighting on Yumi once more. She tilts her head, ears swaying slightly to one side with the motion, stark-white hair spilling over one shoulder. "'Tis not unlike Mist."
    To the matter of sky piracy, Balthier's mouth twists. "Fair enough. As I said, I scarcely expect your participation, nor would I want it. We've worked in teams before, betimes, as the situation has called for, but Fran and I work better alone."
    The viera only nods, red-brown eyes grave.
    Do they want seconds? The two sky pirates exchange looks, thoughtful.
    "Why not?" Balthier shrugs. "Since you're offering, allow me to take advantage of your hospitality. Naturally, the leading man is a generous sort, and such a service will not soon be forgotten," he adds, magnanimously.
    "Please." Fran is, at times, polite when the fancy strikes her, even if most of the time she has no use for hume social mores. She's also a lot less verbose than her companion.
    Balthier looks to Yumi, considering as he rests an elbow on the table and cups his chin in a hand, languid posture at odds with his formal attire. "Seems as these vines have a tendency to spit us out in terribly inconvenient places, I can't guarantee that any place you've a mind to go to is the one that you arrive at." There's a hint of sourness at that observation. More than once he's been thrown into places he hadn't even intended to go, simply because the gods are ever so fond of their japes. More accurately, the World Tree felt he needed to be there, for whatever reason. It's unsettling. "So, there is that caveat."
    Fran leans forward, just a little, ears swivelling forward to fix on the redhead. She folds her hands over the table, almost demurely. "To each their own. Such straightforwardness, you prefer, but ours is a different path." Her eyes flick momentarily to Balthier; their eyes meet for a split second. "One we are disinclined to change."
    There is absolutely no heroic speech in the world that will ever get these two to stop taking things that don't belong to them. Something in both of their eyes suggests it isn't greed. It's a lifestyle. It's the pride of purpose. It's the /challenge/. The more tightly something's guarded, the more worthy it is as a target, and the more prestige for succeeding at it.
    The corner of Balthier's mouth twitches. "How about this: The next time I find a reliable jagd, I'll let you know. I'll take you there, so you can determine whatever it is that you sense or feel. You'll not be under any obligation to do anything but ride the Strahl as a passenger. What say you to that?"

    "Right," Yumi confirms, nodding her head. "Like, instead of magic changing things within the rules, it's magic tugging at the rules themselves, I guess. Or the board the rules operate on. I'm not the best authority on magic. I just know when I sensed things, it /felt/ like something was being twisted, unnaturally. That's the only way I can think to put it." It'd be like trying to explain to someone without eyes what it's like to see.

    Yumi takes the chance to catch the waiter's eye, then quirks her head down at the empty bowls, and holds up her fingers to indicate 'two'. He nods and gets to bustling. Balthier, meanwhile, has interesting things to explain. "An area of magic that's so strong it burns other magical devices out within its boundaries? We actually have something like that, so I kind of understand. If you want me along next time you find one, I'm willing." It's worth a check, at least.

    Ah, but the vines, though. "Yeah, I've been through that once or twice. The mining colony wasn't the first time. It does seem to always put you somewhere interesting, at least. But then again, that's a curse around these parts. 'May you live in interesting times.'" There's a bit of a grin at that. "...I think if I didn't have interesting times to live in, I'd go nuts. I can't help throwing myself into danger, I have to help people the same way you two can't not be sky pirates." It doesn't take long for the food to arrive - a second bowl for each, fresh and hot.

    Both sky pirates blink somewhat owlishly at the explanation given to them, but neither of them seems inclined to comment right away. They exchange a look amongst themselves, evidently thoughtful. One of them agrees. The other is withholding their judgement. One of Fran's ears makes a quarter-turn backward. Balthier's shoulder twitches, as though he were almost shrugging.
    They both turn their attention back to Yumi; Fran's eyes red-brown and serious, Balthier's hazel and hooded nonchalantly. He leans back a little in his chair, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a fastidious flick. "Something of the sort, anyway. I will warn you, jagd are unsafe. These are not the familiar jagd of Ivalice. Even I can scarcely guarantee your safety under such conditions." A poor sort of showing, for the leading man, but even the sky pirate knows when he's bested.
    He drums his fingers on the table again, looking down at them, watching the light flash off the rings of thin-cut precious stone. They may look like cheap plastic, but they're more valuable than they might otherwise appear. No doubt he wouldn't bother with something so gaudy-looking, otherwise. Or maybe he would. He's an odd one. "Interesting is a fair enough word. Not particularly accurate, but fair. Oh, yes, I'm familiar with it. It would seem each and every world has their own local flavouring on such words of wisdom."
    "I think if we were denied interesting times to live in, we would both take leave of our senses. Isn't that right, Fran?" He glances casually to the side.
    "Just so."
    "And you've hit the nail on the head. We can't not be sky pirates. 'Tis who and what we are."
    Oh, and there's fresh food, too. Balthier tucks into his with a sound of pure pleasure. It's not bad stuff, and a damned sight better than the usual street vendors in Balfonheim. "Not bad, not bad. A good, hot meal is oft a luxury and always to be savoured, lass. Keep that in mind and you'll go far."
    It doesn't take either of them very long to finish up the second bowl. Fran eats with a dainty delicacy that belies how hungry she must be, and Balthier likewise picks at his food with deceptive elegance, somehow managing to put it away between one blink at the next. Meals must not be regular for them, with their livelihood. That, or they're used to being interrupted whenever they're in public. It wouldn't be a bad guess.
    Eventually, though, Balthier pushes himself to his feet, courteously extending a hand for his viera companion, who ignores it and stands under her own power. Her ears flick this way and that, still listening.
    "However, I do believe that we've impinged upon your generous hospitality for far too long. I'm afraid we have pressing business elsewhere," the sky pirate comments cheerfully. "We know when to take a hint, and I'm afraid our tolerance for eyes studying our every move is near its end."
    He sweeps forward in an elegant bow, one hand pressed to his midsection. "Thus do I take my leave of you, Yumi Tachibana, and may our paths cross again. I do sincerely hope that you find what you seek," he adds, seriously, once he straightens, hazel eyes intense but still once more. "There is no terrible, wretched feeling like knowing a piece of yourself is missing."
    With that, he offers his arm to his viera companion. She takes it, although not without a backward glance over her shoulder. For a moment she almost seems like she might make another observation, but in the end, she shakes her head and presses herself into the shorter hume's side. If they behave themselves, they can maybe get back to the ship before any trouble spontaneously develops.
    The ease with which they blend into the crowd, Fran's exotic looks and all, may be a little disconcerting to some. But probably not that girl, he decides.