Yui looked between Roland and Lucania again, taking note of Lucania's empty glass-- and trouble expression-- she moved to top her off, and as she did so, she figured she ought to fill the silence.

She, for one, was incredibly uncomfortable with all this silence and introspection with strangers, nonsense. She didn't work well with all this mystical subtext-- Yui was a woman of [i]numbers.[/i]

Yui giggled, "Waiit..." She gestured to Roland with the glass, spilling some green liquid onto the floor in the process. [i]Fuck,[/i] she thought in brief, [i]she was tipsy...[/i] She sighed, and focused on speaking without that damn slur, "I'm sorry, but what you just said bothers me..."

[i]Excellent.[/i] Still, she could speak"Power [i]isn't[/i] the same thing as strength. If it was there wouldn't be a soul on Dust or Ash that hated an Immortal. Power is something people can respect-- it can exist esoterically, theoretically, it's something intangible, like a concept, and so people can appreciate it. But strength is something physical. You can't ignore strength, and you'll know what it is when you see it, because it's a physical, tangible thing. Those without strength will fear it, that's human nature."

She put her glass down, "In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's a coincidence that people with power also tend to posses strength. Immortals have strength unimaginable to most people-- even themselves-- but, at the same time, I can count on one hand the Immortals in our world with any real power."

Roland put his drink to the side, resting his chin on his steepled fingers as he observed the Prime Minister's major domo. [i]Well, if there's one way to understanded a fella, it's by the company they keep. I'd reckon it's about time I find out just who exactly this lil' lady is...understanded? I better lay off the hootch for a bit in case this all goes tits up...[/i]

"I do suppose that I am possessing of the proclivity of agreein' with ya miss Miller, but I think we'll run into a Wittgensteinian style limit o' language if we don't stop these concepts from flyin' too high; While I'm sure you could use this as a means of thinkin' circles round me and my sun-addled noggin' I'd rather learn from this than be left confused when I'm eventually thrown out of this lovely vehicle of yours. To begin with, we should probably determine the difference between strength and power- at least to the degree where our tongues don't get tied up every five seconds. So I think that for the purposes of this conversation, we should use 'power' for the word that we use when talking about the material things whether it's bullets by the drum, or having a limo full of immortals at your beck and call. I ask that we use this word instead of strength, on account of the word strong also being used as induring in the vernacular of the land, somethin' that I have a feelin' is already creepin' up in this discussion of ours. Does that sound fine to you?" 

While he had tried to hide it, the wondering vagabond couldn't help but feel a thrill at the idea of having discourse with others. In the few and farbetween spots of civilization that Roland would frequent more often than not he'd be assaulted, let alone have a conversation about...whatever this conversation was about. 

"Uhhuh..." Nui could only articulate the bare acknowledgment and nod along, she found herself too enamored inconsidering the full state of a man, particulalry [i]this[/i] man. This man had, in the same sentence; used the term Wittgensteinian accurately, and then proceded to label himself as possesing a 'sun-addled noggin'.' The juxtaposition took a moment to process, no thanks to her now numbed cognitive processes, but she was able to recognize after an extra moment of analysis that she didn't completely agree with his defintion of power.

"I'm right on board with you, in that, if we're going to do anything besides argue linguistics we should have clear definitions for what we mean when we say 'power' or 'strength'-- but therin lies the whole argument, right? Unless I'm hearing what you said wrong, you only considered power being different than strength, which implies without such a consideration you'd see them as one and the same. Whereas I'm approaching it from an inherently dualistic perspective." Nui paused to take a breath.

"I don't think power can be defined that simply, nor do I trust a colloquial understanding of strength to fully sum up what it can [i]be[/i] as well as what it [i]represents.[/i] I might be thinking of it all in terms of presonal preference, but I do believe that practically, the two concepts are separate, and that one-- strength-- is more easily understood universally, it deals more in the realm of the physical, although I think even outside of that it relates to a fortitude of any kind... An example..." Nui glanced around with her eye before settling on Roland, or more accurately, Roland's [i]body[/i], "You! I don't think anyone here would hesitate to say that based off appearance alone, you are certainly much physically stronger than I am. And they'd be absolutely right to think so, you literally just survived an experience I could never have, especially with the same ease you did. I'm also sure there are areas, perhaps less physical, where I eclipse you instrength-- that tends to be how humans function,"

"But... are you more powerful than I am? Could you overpower me?" She let the question hang in the still air of the limo.

"There's something that relates power to the psyche and the abstract in human nature, I think. It doesn't just ask that you sum up all the various strengths available to you, but that you also know how to use those combined strengths-- that power-- and use them effectively and efficiently in a way that dominates my person completely." [i]Fuck it,[/i] Nui thought. She picked back up her drink, 

"To go back to your... um... [i]purely metaphorical examples,[/i] I'd argue merely having a gun doesn't give one any power-- strength in a way, yes-- but a gun has absolutely no power unless one has people to use that gun on, or threaten with that gun. Power is psychological. That's why having a... as you put it... a 'limo full of Immortals at your beck and call--' W-well! Not mine, my employer's!-- but you get the point, don't you...? Having that resource, the power comes from the cerebral element of having the Immortals under your command, not only their strength."

"But isn't the gun and the immortal the same thing in this instance?" Roland queried. "You're refering to 'cerebral' elements of having an immortal under your command, but the way I see it, the difference between the two is putting the gun to the back of a person's head, or the front. Sure it has the possibility of deterence like what the old world did with nukes, but even if you aren't blowin' their brains out you've still neutralized or 'dominated' them; just without pulling the trigger." Roland shook his head. "No, I do not believe that has differentiated itself from power, though I believe we are getting closer to our end goal. No...I think we can do better than that."

"Yes, but you're not acknowledging..."

The voices of the gruff wasteland explorer and her shrill lover faded into the background, similar to the hollow horde fading, from individual shapes into a black line on the horizon.

Lucania's eyes returned to the passing landscape as the pair argued. For a woman who dealt with numbers and prided herself on perfering strict realism over theoretical abstractions, Nui certainly had a tendency to argue linguistics to absurdity. The difference between power and strength didn't matter to her, she knew she possesed both-- she'd let history decide what the proper name for it would be. 

Her present concerns were as follows; finalizing the purchase of Dead-End, seeing Lucy again, continuing the Forsaken-Laguna Stalemate, ensuring Vladimira didn't wind up dead-- or perhaps worse, (primarily due to the fact that Andrei would put all his military might behind ending whomever had caused her death, secondarily because she did feel an attachment to her former bodyguard), procuring more military support from the abandoned Aqueon regions, ending the ongoing civil strife in Harlem, seeing Aiai again in Harlem.

Of mild interest to her was the hollow swarm, whom the limo was now traveling parallel to. She had wondered why the trip to Dead-End had taken this long, and apparently it as because Carmela... or perhaps Octavia...? She mildly wondered who was driving her limo, she mildy wondered if the Gaens had horses, she mildly wondered if this Roland Chambers could be of use to her... Lucania mildly wondered many things.

Why was this morning taking so long?

She began to hum. Quietly-- it wasn't the hum of someone annoyed trying to end a heated discussion between a wasteland scholar and the closest thing he may have had to an Old World contemporary in the form of Nui. She was bored with it, but she was glad they were talking about something. No, this was the hum of a musician, a singer with a well-practiced skill that had long gone of unused. This was the athelete's twitch of muscle memory, her voice only barely escaping into the no-longer-silent cab. A the very slight melody of lukewarm wandernce of the busy mind.

Lucania sighed internally, perhaps of mild relief as the black line that was the hollow swarm began to dissapear. They'd be in Dead-End soon enough now.

The hum returned.

Lucania mildly wondered what was on the radio..

[hr]

[i]"On the off chance any of you wasteland flowers were wondering, even if only mildly, what song we're gonna play next, here you go. A treat for a long day's journey only barely begun;"[/i]

[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZO1SGvFSgZQ[/youtube][/center]