[Open] New to town

[Vincent Black]

01 Yaris 2718 |The Dives | Hollow Street

V incent leaned against the dirt covered walls around the market of Hollow Street, his head lowered hidden by a dirty black cap he found on the street, his dark overcoat pulled tight against his muscular form. One hand rested inside his pocket, fumbling with the few coins he had in there. His left hand holding onto a bundle tightly wrapped together by twine, his rapier hidden away inside of it. The occasional person would pass and Vincent would give them a slight nod of his head in greeting, for the most part, he was ignored. He preferred it that way.

It had been a while since he was in this city. A good five or six years, at least, shortly before Natalie was killed – The thoughts still stung. He remembered Hollow Street being a good place for the more shadier of dealings, which is exactly why he had come. He needed to meet the shady types to get a foothold in the city. He also needed to get a way to funnel in some cash – He didn’t have time for a job. He didn’t have the patience to work day-to-day to build up the funds he needed to strike out. No, he needed a quick way to get the cash. And that usually meant dangerous deeds, and it usually meant diving into the underworld a little bit. Whatever paid for the cause, he thought.

He watched the street urchins maneuver through crowds, their small hands sliding into pockets and picking valuables – Not that the people that frequented Hollow Street had much to give. Still. He nodded to himself, taking mental notes as he watched.


“Get some street urchins and kill two birds with one stone. A little bit of income for little work and a decent intelligence network in the shadier parts of town.”

He smiled and as a street urchin made his way out passed him, Vincent’s hand shot out of his pocket grabbing ahold of the boys arms.

"Gotcha!"

He quickly pulled the kid tight against him to prevent him from screaming, his gaze shifting upwards to see if anyone had noticed him.

[Sednai]

Yaris 1, 2718....

These streets had not been graced by Sednai’s feet for so many years, yet the every bump in the cobblestones that met her feet through thin soles, every mixing smell of dirt, soot, and sweat that swirled around her nose in the dry air, and every anonymous hand she could feel slipping into her empty pockets was as familiar as if she had lived here in the Viendan Night, the part of the city untouched by the brightening affluence, her whole life. It was a place where the poorest people languished and the urchins ruled the streets, a place of bad memories that still only had one meaning to Sednai - home.

She would protect this place and these people as if it was home and they were family, and she would get them- not just the good humans, not just the rich humans- freedom.

There was no real reason for Sednai to be here today other than the push of childhood nostalgia. This was another life, separate from her timeline, or so it felt. She watched little hands slipping into deep pockets- a criminal thing, perhaps, but something commonplace and nearly expected. Her fingers almost itches to snake long arms into the pockets of passerby; it had been so natural for her only a decade ago. She watched as a little boy snaked through the crowd, greedy arms outstretched like a zombie, with a ghost of a smile illuminating her dirty face under the loose hood.

Her amusement stumbled as the boy was snatched away, then the whole scene swallowed by the crowd. Sednai pushed through the crowd immediately, struggling to navigate the sea. There was no use asking for help- no one here cared- but she could help. The dagger in the waistband of her long skirt was cold against her side, a stony reminder of what she could do.

After bumping into what seemed to be every person in the market, Sednai made it to the boy, now being roughly held by a man. She took a steadying breath as she approached, then simply placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and glared at the man, a man who, although stooped, would certainly stand much taller than her.

“Excuse me, sir,” she addressed him coldly, a suspicious brow dancing above her dark eyes. She turned her attention to the boy, begging him to play along. “I’d like you to let go of my son. “

[Vincent Black]

01 Yaris 2718 |The Dives | Hollow Street

V incent fought against the struggle of the kid, holding him tight to his form, his free hand still gripping tightly around the fabric and twine bundle that hid his rapier. He needed to figure out a more discreet way to carry his sword around, he thought to himself. Maybe he’d invest in a cane sword, but even then those could be fragile if not forged by the right weaponsmith.
"Alright, kid” He paused, leaning down to make sure the kid could hear him. ”Just need a bit of info from you and you ca—“. He was interrupted by a hand suddenly resting on the kids shoulders and the woman spoke. Her kid, eh? Doubtful. But he simply gave her a smile. His grip still tight around the boy,

"Your boy, eh?” He nodded some. "Cute kid. Though, he should probably try to keep his hands out of other people’s pockets. Isn’t usually too healthy to pickpocket. Whats his name?

He’d edge his hand down his bundle some, looping one of the pieces of twine around his finger. Push come to shove, he’d be able to quickly unwravel the bundle and free his sword. He didn’t feel like skewering a woman in the middle of the street, but if he had to, that’s just life.

[Gale]

Hollow Street | daytime

1 YARIS 2718

Gale chewed furiously on the piece of tobacco. It was a supposed viable alternative to smoking the substance, the same flavouring filling up the senses but leaving a notably sticky taste across her tongue. Her lips curled, teeth set on edge before she spat the contents out into the bucket. Coughing, she shook her head at the tobacconist, “I’ll stick to the usual this time.”

The wrinkled, wiry man gave a grin before sliding a small, grease paper wrapped package to her. Within, the pre-cut and rolled cigarettes greeted her. The Smith loaded them into her tin alongside the small tube of matches. With a nod and a slap down of coin she was on her way once more. The start of the new season brought opportunity, new trade and stock was brought in, wages were counted and collected, and people were generally more giving. It was a good time for business, and a good time to jump on the metal shipments.

Lighting up a cigarette, she let it hang limply between her lips, her eyes scanning the bodies that moved. The troublesome were out once more, something that made her instinctively jam her hands into her coat pockets. The rest of her hunched in, arms kept closer, shoulders rising up into her neck. She skulked along, rope strap of her toolbox digging across her frame, the innards clattering with every step. Once more she looked her usual, filthy self, the blackened soot sunk into her clothes and features, the form bound down and flattened in places.

Boy.

Shoulders bounced off others, a quiet grunt of annoyance as he made his way across. One of the urchins ran into them at one point, feet bracing before they gave a nervous laugh. Gale exhaled the cigarette smoke from their nose, staring down disapprovingly, and watched them scuttle away. The orbs followed, watching as the subject began to terrorise a new victim before continuing onwards. Not their monkey, not their circus.

Turning the next corner to head to the forge revealed a new scene. It was one that gave some pause. Lips pursed, steps moving slower – it was a problem. They were in the way to go home. A drag of the smoke, a grumble as it extinguished itself; the Smith sauntered up to one of the nearby lampposts before attempting to relight it once more. Enough time however, for the eyes to intently focus and watch.

Man. Child. Woman. Standoff? Hold.

The eyes moved to the waistline of the man, noting he was considerably larger – a hairless bear - against the seemingly thin woman – a spindly twig. There was not much space between them; an arm’s reach at most, all being rather possessive. Too possessive. But over what? The boy? What had been missed?

One wants something. The child? For what? What evidence. How? First, defuse the situation.

Gale blew out a plume of smoke, and began to walk over. Knuckle rubbing against their nose, a large sniff before the finger pointed not at them both, but past them to the narrow street beyond. The rolling tone escaped after that, “Not to be that Git but, Nice Guy,” they head gave a nod to the woman, “and Gal, no doubt you both got a bunch of hard bites and all that.” The eyes looked both of them up and down, “You’re in the way. So can you take your playtime elsewhere cause,” Gale leaned back onto their heels, chin lifting to look down where they came from, “I’m pretty certain a bunch of fun Uncle Gollies are knocking about. Ye got?”

[Sednai]

Yaris 1, 2718....

Sednai, through her peripheral vision, watched tensely as the man's hand moved. What was he getting after? Was this child in more danger than simply being abducted? The dagger pressed against her side, hidden by layers of clothing but, oh, so accessible. Her hand distinctively moved to her hip, a move of security disguised as an authoritative stance. Yet, this man was surely faster than here, and surely he expected trouble as his hand inched to his waist.

"Maybe you should try keeping your filthy hands off of children, sir," she scowled at him, grip tightening then relaxing on the boy's shoulder. A look of disgust soaked through her pale face, but she could still feel the underlying fear travelling up her esophagus. She swallowed, palate dry.

"H-his name is Fahlo," she answered. Her voice was at first small, but picked up steam at the familiarity of the old name. "Fahlo Lovage, and I'd like you to take your clocking hands off of him."

As her confidence grew, she felt the need to tell the man to keep his hands away from whatever his hands were inching towards, inching so slowly, so barely noticeably, but so dangerously noticeable. Yet, as she opened her mouth to speak, nearly pulling the boy away, she was interrupted. She turned slightly towards the voice, hand tightening on the boy's shoulder.

A stranger had approached. Lean, blonde, pale, a look quick and manageable, and general tone of impatience and disregard for the scene that was, in Sednai's mind, dire. Yet this person, this young human, had not a care, or perhaps not a notice, of the situation- child fighting man fighting woman, a cycle of anger, danger, and half-truths, but the only thing on this young person's mind was the continuation of their path.

"Playtime? Have you no-" Sednai began, her voice high in a mix of disappointment and disbelief in the situation. She shook her head, a frustrated annoyance creasing her brows. There were more important matters at hand than this brash stranger.

"Let them come, then," Sednai nearly spat, looking back at the man. "They'd love any excuse to lock us up, woul'n't they? Love to lock up a street urchin and any other human they can find. Woul'n't you fancy that? Another three humans locked away by the gollies?"

"Let the boy go an' we can all go home. Them to keep on down the path, me an' mine to get home safe, and you to keep your paws off of the poor children," she suggested critically, nodding to the stranger, the boy, and the man respectively.

[Vincent Black]

01 Yaris 2718 |The Dives | Hollow Street

V incent laughed at the woman’s attempt at giving the kid a name. It would have been convincing if she hadn’t hesitated at first. She gained confidence by the end of the name, he’d give her that. And it was a quick full name. Just the small tell gave her away. Then again, she could just be nervous and that was indeed the kids real name. In that case, it would complicate things. He’d have to play it as if it wasn’t her kid.

He was about to reply when the other individual came up, speaking a number of slangs in a dialect that was a bit difficult to understand. It took a second for him to mentally translate it and he nearly laughed again. What a place, he thought to himself shaking his head slightly but turning to gaze around the market area. “Uncle Golly out and about, eh?” He nodded some and then the original woman began to speak again about what they’d do.

”You talk to much,” He didn’t loosen his grip on the kid. ”Like way to much. Shut up for a second.” He didn’t mean to come off as harsh, but with his usual gruff voice. It probably did. Muffles would come from the kid pressed against his chest, so he’d let up a bit to let the kid get a breath of air, resting his hand on the kids shoulder.[/color]

”Alright, lass, kid aint yours and quit trying to play that route. Nice play, but I don’t believe you.”

Again, he could be wrong. It could be her kid. That’d complicate things, but he’d deal with it. “Whether ya like it or not, lass, I need the kid. Need to figure out whose calling the shots with these pickpockets.” He glanced around.

”Want to make sure I’m not hurting the kid, then follow me and let me talk to him.”. He tugged the kid away from her grip and began to make his way down the street, his hand steering the child by the shoulder. He looked over at Gale.

“You can come, too, then. Gonna look strange if we all meet briefly and then disperse in different directions, ‘nyways.”. He paused and with a grin said. ”Ye got?”

[Gale]

Hollow Street | daytime

1 YARIS 2718

There were two things Gale immediately noticed with the situation. Firstly was the manner in which the woman spoke, the mannerisms that made her at least want to be perceived as something above them; with it the sense of entitlement and forcing an agenda. Even if that was currently getting nowhere. Charity got people robbed blind and made into a tool quick. In conclusion, she was probably not a local. Second was the man, a strong grip in his attempt to control the situation, at least understood some of the lingo. It made him instantly more reliable, in a manner of speaking – more so as he was currently being forthright about the situation. A final drag of the cigarette, she snubbed it out with her boot.

Gale’s orbs slid over to the woman with her hissing and spitting. Letting it wash past, she spoke up, “Now. Dunno about you, but I smell bull in your words. You ain’t got interest in drawing in uncles and aunts, too much trouble and a lot of rope. Unless you are a neck flexer.” The smith idly played with the rope strap, keeping the hands distracted, “So, stop trying to pull on the heart strings. No one is buying.”

Or seemingly interested either.

Vision sliding away and down to the child, the mind quietly pieced together what she knew. Another few seconds, the head weighed up the odds while pulling out the tin of cigarettes. Unlit, she gave an inhale of the tobacco – some sweet one – before popping the end into her mouth. Match struck, the flame danced at the end tauntingly before she shook it out.

Boy. Eight, nine? Urchin. Pickpocket. Yet to actually say anything. Man, will probably break a nose if looked at funny. Made agenda clear. Probably will scare kid shitless. Not necessarily a bad thing, stops them from being cocky. Woman, overly dramatic, trying to force hand. Will probably scream for help if her way isn’t met. Unable to compromise. Bet one pint to self that both are armed.

It was enough of a mental note to ensure she stayed out of arms reach of both of them at all times.

With a pivot on her heel, she made a move to follow.

“Oes, I got,” she looked past the wisps of smoke and down to the child, “Kid, you alright to answer this Oldster? Not a moment of your time. Then, send you on your way. Might look like a bear, but bet you a quart he’d play nice if you do too.” She shrugged, turning her head to look back. The toolbox groaned as she walked, metal grunting as the tools slid about within. Another sniff, she inhaled the comparatively sweeter scent of the smoke, before offering the tin over to the adults, “Smoke?” Her gaze shifted, “No, not you. You’re too small still.”

“So what was it you want? Right, right, shot caller,” Hands returning to her pockets, there was a swagger in her step as she nodded ahead and down the path that she needed to take, “So, down there, second left, or the third if you fancy alley jumping. All the way down to the end.”

Defused. Move. Engage direction. Place incentive. Keep minds occupied.

[Sednai]

Yaris 1, 2718....

Sednai had quixotically expected to be a hero, but, then again, looking at past experiences, charisma was not a strong roll on her hand. She deflated slightly, becoming more fragile than before. The stern edges of her face, however, persisted. The man pulled the boy away from her, and her hands slid to her cocked hips, the worn fabric of her skirt tickling the skin above her boots. The man would not relent, and the stranger had no interest in helping the boy. Yet, the man admitted that he wasn't kidnapping the boy or snatching him away, which quelled some of the urgency blaring like a siren in Sednai's brain. She didn't completely believe the man, wouldn't completely believe him enough to allow him to go off on his own. She was sticking with him. It would look strange, sure, if they all met and moved, strange as if they were plotting an attack on the square, had grouped, and began to execute. However, Sednai pictured the strange group in their pursuit of the man in question- that would be a strange quartet, indeed.

"Believe me or not, I'm stuck to yer hip for a jiff," she promised the man, her hair moving to reveal the mottled skin of her neck as she shifted her weight to the other hip. "'Sides, dunno what you consider strange, but it ain' gonna look too hot if you're draggin' a boy down inna some alley with me an' this'un followin' yous 'round. I- I can't even tell ya what that would be 'semblin', but if there's any aunts and uncles snoopin' about, it'll be a right thing to look at. I ain' not gonna follow you, however 'spicious it may be. He stayin' in my line 'til you's gone," Sednai relented, allowing her auspicious plans to be compromised. She moved to follow the man within his first steps, sticking close to the boy as her own dark, suspicious eyes swept the streets for the flurry of green and black of the uniform.

The cigarette was offered, and Sednai was not about to turn it down. "Aye, hand me that'un," she replied, pulling the tin away from Gale's hands and into her own, despite having asked it to be handed to her. She opened as she walked, heavy boots loud and without grace on the cobblestones. She flicked it open with her thumb, holding it like a book in her hand before plucking out a cigarette. “Ciggy-butt for ya?” she asked, forcing her tone lighter despite her distrust- and initial dislike- of this stranger as she held the tin towards him. If he wouldn’t take it, she’d hand it back to the owner.

“Spare a light?” she asked in yet another short sentence, examining the cigarette between her dirty fingers. She rarely had the coin for even a cigarette nowadays, saving the cents many of her acquaintances spent on catharsis despite how much a drink or smoke could do for her. After a light, she’d take a drag from the cigarette. She was experienced enough with the cigarette to refrain from choking on the inhalation, but the cigarette was still perched awkwardly in her spindly fingers. Her eyes still swept the streets through the smoke, and she eyed the mentioned alleys up ahead.

“I used t’pick pockets,” she grinned nostalgically, a small gap beneath her front teeth clearly defined. “Not no more, I ain’ need it anymore. Why ya need to figure out who the big boss is, hm? It’s wrong, yeah, but most of us humans ain’ mind pickpockets. Y’all may’ve got off better than me, but many of us were too busy with our hands in someone’s pockets t’point fingers.”