Late Morning, 38 Dentis, 2719
In all his young life, Meraki had never thought that he might need to find a new place that wasn’t in the Stacks. So many times, in the span of the years, he had done whatever necessary to keep his dismal little flat that it didn’t occur to him that he could find somewhere new to live. He had enough coin that he could leave for Brunnhold, and never look back to the harbor, but he didn’t want to do that. Because in the past several days, he’d found a certain freedom in Rose that he could never find in his neighborhood. His home in the Stacks now felt like a crypt by comparison, and he didn’t want to put himself back in the ground quite yet.
Besides, there was Lars... He didn’t want to leave until he’d helped the passive out from the contract with the Mad Queen, and he didn’t know how long that would take. Best have a more secure place to stay than the various spots he’d been crashing for the past several days. So, he checked his reflection in the shop window, fixed his hair some so that his bangs hung to the side rather than directly in his face, then he entered Hot House Glass with his goal firmly in mind.
His steps faltered within a few seconds. The wick’s eyes widened. He hadn’t really looked before, hadn’t seen the shop in the daylight. The front room was filled with beautiful works of glass. He’d caught glimpses here and there, while going to the apartment, but hadn’t seen it like this. Meraki felt nervous, suddenly. All this fragile glass around him… he stepped a little slower, a little more aware of where he was going.
“Hello?” he called out, while he looked up at little glass birds hanging from the ceiling. Light reflected from them, sending refracted colors through the space of the shop. In a slow step around, he examined the shop. He added, though he’d already gotten distracted by everything there was to look at. “I’m lookin’ for a Mister Fitz?”
Meraki halted his steps, close to a display pedestal that had an elaborate décor vase on it. His gaze flitted over to look at the colorful glass flowers hung on the nearby wall. He glanced about, then walked over to look at some of the flowers. The wick set his hands in the front pockets of his vest, and wondered how easy it’d be to fit one of the flowers in the interior pocket or not…
He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. Without looking to see if the shop keeper had showed up yet, the wick called out slightly louder in case he was in the back or similar, “Mister Fitz? I’m new to Old Rose and come to… inquire about one of the flats above here? Your- uh… these flowers are… shiny.”
Shiny didn’t seem like the appropriate compliment for glass, but Meraki wasn’t sure what else to call it. He lifted one hand out of a pocket, then gently touched a yellow-colored rose before he took it down from the wall. Meraki twirled the stem between his calloused fingers. His hands were wrapped in bandages that had rusty-brown splotches over the joints. He’d thought to wear his gloves to hide the bandages but decided against it since his gloves looked even worse than the bandages on their own.
The bandages on his hands weren’t the only indication that he was in a state of healing. His bottom lip had an old bruise along it, dappled yellow and violet with a chapped over dark scab over the pouty flesh. Tender faded marks of bruises were along one side of his temple and jaw. Everything else hid behind his clothing, though. He scuffed his boots against the floor, shuffled in the spot, and he twirled the glass flower about and brought it up… and sniffed it, as if it were a real flower, then realized that made no sense to do. Meraki winced slightly and glanced over to see if he was still alone or not.