Don Juan

Sometimes Minoth made it a rule that whenever he was confused about human culture, whenever he was teetering insecure about what he thought was socially acceptable - or even possible - and the way things "should" be (whether to raise himself to a standard or to pettily judge), it was just his own uninformedness, though none of his fault, at play.

Of course, realizing that friends paid for each others' meals from time to time, as a casual treat, without keeping a ledger on it, was one of those norms he'd been unaccustomed to, doubly so because of his proximity to the listlessly white-knuckled nature of the refugee camps. So he sort of...played fast and loose with that one. Minoth and money, and where it concerned Addam, was an entirely separate topic.

But sometimes, Minoth had to stop and realize that there was a massive gulf between what most people did...and what Addam did.

Sure, okay, Addam cried more openly than some might prefer, of themselves and of others. Minoth certainly wasn't going to let himself show something so scarce as an emotion in front of mixed company. But that was Addam's thing, and Minoth wished him well with it. Emotional intelligence, my old friend...

Addam loved spooking his friends by randomly bringing up their mortal fears (Aspars, ghosts, and otherwise) straight out of battle, as a stray musing, just as innocent as you please. Or, he'd ponder group dynamics aloud. Then he'd turn around and hand Minoth a minxy flirtation without the slighest flinch.

He didn't make any sense, except that he made perfect sense. Addam was Addam. One man among many. The paragon of normalcy, a farmer taking a convenient detour around fertilization season to meet some real characters and have an adventure.

The problem with Addam was that he was so damn unserious, and that that was exactly what Minoth had to accept that he needed. A sincere jokester who couldn't handle spicy food but loved Jin's stir-fry, who delighted in adorning himself with Lora's charms, who stroked his medium-strong chin with almost-reckless abandon, and whose laugh was a literal "ha-ha".

I mean, he called the Titan that raised him and protected him, personally, when humans didn't want to bother, "Nuncle", for the Architect's sake! What happened to plain old "Uncle"? When did that stop being the term of respect afforded generically ominous and/or affectionate elders? Was there something mysterious and secondary going on with Titans' genders (and Azurda, the failed romantic, most of all) that Minoth had yet to be clued in on?

(It was certainly possible, considering the overall politics of his prior leaders.)

Architect love me, Minoth lamented with a sigh, I'm in love with a man who's corny.