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Nov 13, 2019 7:32 PM
Apprentice Deskyl and WWII Jean
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"What, my bedroom?"

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"No... more." She makes an expansive gesture.

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"England? Or -- all of everywhere, that hasn't got magic or robots?"

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"Everywhere," she nods. "Please."

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He finds a piece of paper that's mostly blank, and sets about sketching a world map, in the form of a series of circles.

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DZ hangs back by Deskyl for a moment before her curiosity gets the better of her and she goes to look.

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North America South America Europe half of Africa. New circle. Europe Africa half of Asia. New circle. Asia Australia little bit of North America. He's pretty good at drawing maps.

Little star on London. "Here's us."

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"Okay."

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He considers a minute and then marks Paris. "There's home. ... What sort of things do you want to know?"

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She looks over at Deskyl and then back to the map. "I think we live here now; I don't think Deskyl will want to go back. What's it like?"

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"It's ... a city. You've got the wrong language for it, I can speak the other one if you'll pick it up that way. Or find you some books in it if that's easier."

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"Books?" she gestures to the neat little pile she made of them. "Books are easier, thank you."

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"Books," he agrees. "It's no trouble. Food'll be harder, there's rationing."

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"Deskyl needs to eat." She goes back over to the bed and nudges her; apparently Deskyl hasn't been quite asleep, because this gets a prompt response.

"Why is there rationing?"

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"War." Germany. Nazi-occupied territories. Arrows flowing from the former into the latter.

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Deskyl sits up a little, at that.

 

"Oh," DZ says, when Deskyl has settled herself again and signed to her. "...tell us more about that, please?"

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He touches Germany. "They've got a grand plan for taking over the world. Improving humanity by exterminating the defective." His fingers stray to home, which lies within the boundaries he's marked of occupied territories. "I'm not fond of it."

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Deskyl doesn't seem too fond of it, either, and signs to DZ at some length.

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The look he's giving her hands is ... definitely a thing.

 

 

"They have a lot of things. But not robots. Nor magic."

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"She can't make more robots, but she can make other things. And she can fight, when she's healed."

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"How long...?"

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"We don't know. A few weeks, at least."

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"--if there's anything I can do. Anything."

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"She needs to rest, mostly. She should eat, it will slow down her healing if she doesn't eat enough, but she can use magic instead sometimes. It doesn't have to be safe food; she can't get sick. And she'll need a place to ... like planning, but doing ... her fighting, later."

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"Practice? I can do that. The place, and the food. If she can really -- it would be worth it to steal food out of children's mouths."

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