//well i'm not made of steel

[croibhristeoir]

WHO: croibhristeoir and truthsnomiracle
WHAT: Discussing combat training. Also probably angst.
WHEN: December 28th, midday
WHERE: Diarmuid's hotel room, possibly elsewhere.
RATING: PG-13

[It was an uncomfortable silence the two had lapsed into on the way back to the hotel, Diarmuid adjusting his glasses awkwardly before settling on having his hands in his coat pockets. This was a difficult situation, one he truly was not remotely sure how to approach. To think Edgeworth had such terrible things in his past was surprising to say the least. It would have been difficult for a knight to withstand, let alone an ordinary human.]

[Well, he could refocus himself on something that was second nature--combat. Several among them seemed to be gathering and offering lessons; how could one of the most skilled in the Fianna neglect to do so as well? Truthfully, he looked forward to it. Teaching Issei was entertaining as well as useful for both of them, and even though Diarmuid had rarely taught anyone to fight in his lifetime he was more than happy to help however he could.]

[That was really all he wanted to do, in the end: help people. No matter what it took.]

Comments

[truthsnomiracle]

[It initially struck Edgeworth as strange that he needed to reveal so little about his past to cause a warrior's heart to soften. As he mulled it over, however, he realized that it was something of a relief that it was so easy that he could do such a thing unintentionally. Maybe that really was what ultimately divided a warrior from a murderer, much as the Steel Samurai franchise implied as one of its primary themes.

Edgeworth was far less surprised to find that they were headed for the hotel. Once they arrived, he posed the obvious question:]

Is your room on the first floor, or need we head for the stairs?

[The lack of any mention of the elevator was, of course, no accident.]

[croibhristeoir]

[Like many knights of his time, Diarmuid was a caring and kindhearted individual. Unlike most, however, he was so almost to a fault. It could perhaps be argued that his kindness and patience had contributed in at least a small part to his downfall in life.]

It's on the sixth floor.

[He didn't seem to notice the aversion to the elevator; Diarmuid tended to forget about it himself.]

[truthsnomiracle]

Very well, then.

[With neither another word nor any outward sign that tears had fallen from his eyes less than an hour ago, Edgeworth began the trek -- one half the length of the one he was used to traversing every day back home.]

[croibhristeoir]

[Ah, awkward silences. At a loss for what to say or if he should even try, Diarmuid elected to remain silent.]

[truthsnomiracle]

[Once the two of them reached the top of the stairs, Edgeworth stepped aside in order to allow the knight to pass him in the hall.]

As it is your room, you should probably lead the way.

[croibhristeoir]

Ah--right, of course. That would make sense.

[truthsnomiracle]

Is something the matter, Diarmuid? Your demeanor has been off for some time now.

[croibhristeoir]

It's nothing of much consequence, I apologize.

[At least, nothing that could be helped. But ever since Edgeworth mentioned the death of his father, in the back of his mind Diarmuid had begun to wonder what became of his own family after his death. Grainne remarried Fionn of all people, surely their children hadn't simply been alright with that.]

[He couldn't imagine having gone through life without his father. How had they handled it? Silently, he made a note to ask Grainne when next he saw her.]

I'm just a bit distracted.

[truthsnomiracle]

[While Edgeworth knew that Diarmuid had a wife -- he had spoken with her over the phone, in fact -- the subject of children had never come up. Thus, the prosecutor had no idea that there was any such parallel being drawn, just that the knight didn't seem to want to discuss whatever was on his mind.]

I'll leave you to your thoughts, then... provided, of course, that you aren't so distracted that you can't so much as invite me in as we discussed.

[croibhristeoir]

No, no, it's fine. I said we would do this, and I shall not go back on my word.

[With a slight sigh, Diarmuid reached the door of his hotel room and opened it, stepping back slightly to let Edgeworth in.]

[truthsnomiracle]

[Edgeworth bows, then enters the apartment sufficiently to allow his friend passage as well, taking in the sights as he does so.]

[croibhristeoir]

[It was a very simple room with remarkably few personal items; on the table was a small collection of books on varying subjects. Leaning against a wall was a pair of lances: one roughly six feet long and the other somewhere around four. On the back of a nearby chair was a short sword in its sheath.]

[Aside from the weaponry, one might have considered it a perfectly normal room...although quiet and perhaps a little empty.]

Right, so you came here to determine what weapon to specialize in, correct?

[truthsnomiracle]

[Under the circumstances, empty was preferable. It wouldn't do to break something of Diarmuid's by accident, after all.]

To begin the process of determination, yes. I imagine that it would be necessary to handle more than a mere three weapons to finalize any decision.

[As he speaks, the prosecutor walks over to pick up the sheathed sword, though he glances at the lances frequently.]

[croibhristeoir]

Naturally. Choosing one's specialty isn't quite a simple thing.

[It was a relatively light one-handed blade, of substandard quality but kept in excellent condition and cared for remarkably well despite that.]

[truthsnomiracle]

[Edgeworth looks at the hilt to see if the weapon is secured by a peace-knot; if so, his first practice swings could happen with the sheath firmly in place. It would alter the weight and aerodynamics, but would minimize the damage if he overswung too.]

Indeed not. I am, however, certain that I would prefer a melee weapon, despite the strength that firearms have to offer.

[There was something not just grim, but uneasy coloring the prosecutor's usual subdued out-of-court tone.]

[croibhristeoir]

[There was, in fact--the blade was carefully secured in its place.]

I'm afraid I know nothing of modern firearms; frankly, attacking from a distance with more than a bow and arrow seems faintly underhanded to me. Personally, I would much rather have a blade in fair combat.

...Edgeworth, if I might say so you don't sound very well. Are you alright?

[truthsnomiracle]

Once, there were codes that were followed in pistol duels. However, the entire practice quickly became illegal in civilized regions, to say nothing of the fact that firearms themselves grow deadlier by the decade.

[Edgeworth sighs, staring down at the sheathed sword.] Aside from what you've already been made aware of... the decision to wield a weapon at all weighs heavily upon me. I count myself fortunate that the circumstances make those of a melee variety a viable option.

[croibhristeoir]

...I'm sorry. Were it up to me, those who didn't wish to take up weaponry wouldn't have to. Ideally knights like myself and Arturia would deal with threats as they came while those less suited to combat did otherwise.

Unfortunately, this place allows no such luxury.

[truthsnomiracle]

That it does not, particularly for those of us horrified that children are drawn into this place as well.

[There's more pain in those words than Edgeworth intended to let out. This is, after all, quite personal.]

[croibhristeoir]

In my time, individuals far younger than them were able to be skilled warriors--the greatest my country has ever seen became famous at merely seven, and I was already part of the Fianna when I was thirteen.

But you're right, and those are two completely different matters. I will not invalidate one's ability to fight based on age, but it would be far better were they not required to at all.

[truthsnomiracle]

In this era, most countries make it illegal for those who haven't reached the age of majority to become soldiers -- in part to make it all the harder to draft them. The more laws that stand between a modern government and an atrocity that only a government could commit, the more hurdles that must be overcome to commit it. That being said, it would be ridiculous of me to say that children are not capable of making decisions... however uninformed and unwise many of them might be.

[There was a regret in that last clause, no question.]

okay i swear i know my own keywords

[croibhristeoir]

In such a situation as this, I think we should welcome all the assistance we can get. As long as they are willing and we're careful to keep them out of unnecessary danger, they certainly shouldn't be prevented from fighting here if needed.

Forgive me, I'm not sure--what's the usual age for soldiers now, generally?

[truthsnomiracle]

Indeed. Some of those here apparently even possess experience in such matters.

It varies from country to country, but eighteen is the typical age.

[croibhristeoir]

...

[Diarmuid became remarkably quiet at that. Eighteen? How did anyone have time to accomplish--ah, wait. Times were far different now. The world was a far less dangerous place on a general day-to-day basis, and he found himself wondering how long civilians or even soldiers lived now.]

[Surely longer than anyone back home. In fact, he was grimly aware at that moment that his twenty-five was likely a young age at which to die in comparison to this era.]

[truthsnomiracle]

...Diarmuid?