[The Bay] Hunting for Work (Kon, employment seeking)

[Kon]

-1st of Summer, 512AV, middle of the afternoon-

Kon stands a little ways back from the pier, watching the people on and around it. He takes several moments to make a note of the sort of work that he could be expected to do- not finding any of it particularly difficult looking- and then sets about finding his hopefully soon-to-be employer. "The Leg, the Leg.... now who would that be?" It doesn't take him long to find his answer. About a minute and a half after beginning his search, the Inarta spies a man making his way about on only one leg. "Now, that has to be him." Stretching, rolling his shoulders, tugging on the end of his scarf for a moment, standing to his full (although still not particularly impressive) height, and clearing his throat; he begins walking towards the man.

As he draws nearer, he calls out. "Are you 'the Leg?' I heard you were looking for an extra pair of hands or two. That still right?" Kon makes it a point to look the man in the eye while speaking, and tries to avoid fidgeting as much as he usually does. Only partially succeeding, he continues. "I'm usually a quick enough learner, whatever you need doing. I'm fit, and I typically don't drink enough for it to get in the way of doing my job."

Folding his arms and moving so he''d be less in the workers' way, Kon tilts his head. "Well? How about it? Do you have a job for me?" While he speaks, the Inarta begins thinking of his possible alternatives should he be turned away. There weren't that many jobs in the Establishment that he expected he could stomache doing. Worst come to worst he could leave, attempt to make a living off of his minor trapping skills, or simply draw on his savings; however, he grew weary of the road and all the things that come with it. For Kon it was time to stay put for a short while, and what better thing to do at a port city than to work on boats, something he might not have a chance to look into again? He supposed there were one or two other job listings that hadn't made him sweat, but for all he knew somebody might have taken them already.

Kon just barely resists the urge to shake his head at his own thoughts. If he didn't find work here, he'd find it elsewhere, simple as that. No point in worrying about maybes and perhaps's until they were likely to arise, after all.

[Archelon]

Old Legs was a surly sort at times, but that didn't mean he was foolish enough to allow any discomfort his missing leg keep him from the duties of running much of sunberth's docks. He was a shiprwright, a businessmen, and an entrepreneur all rolled into one. He had a bunch of guards over at the board known as "taggers'' which helped merchants shuttle their goods to the dockhands safely to let them be loaded onto ships. On the docks, he helped assign workers to the dockmaster Hessin, Rivana, and Cravilz dependant on which docks were needing hands. And he juggled such things like a professional busker tossing balls up at a festival. So when Kon came seeking a job , the old man was quick to raise an eyebrow. If only in that the man was rather nonspecific about the job he was seeking. Licking his lips Ol' Legs decided to simply ponder and watch the man for a time until a courier came running up to hand him a black envelope. An envelope he barely paused in opening before glancing at its contents, scribbling back a reply, and handing it back to the courier. "Well it seems sometimes the man outruns the messenger. Hmm?" Old Legs pondered as he stared at Kon, as if trying to measure his soul for consumption , or to predict he'd even last a week. "You don't look too strong, well at least not with any developed muscles, but hauling crates and such on one of the docks could help work that out. Come here boy." Ol' Legs said as he called over one of his subordinates, a man named Hessin. "You still need workers over at the Braggart Bacony and The Turtle Den? The man looked at Harry, the leg, merely pondering a moment, "Darkest Waters and Cherry Bay are shorter in supply. Probably best to start him off there under Ruffino. Jobs are only two gold mizas a day though." Old Harry nodded gruffly,"Why don't you show him the way. If he survives the day, he can be hired." Hessin nodded in reply and smiled a toothed smile at Kon. it was intimidating, seeing how such a jagged smile might convey the falsehood of amusement which tinged the man's words. "Alright you young seacow, Today is the day you show whether you can earn your pay. Down on the south side of the river, past the slave markets is Darkest waters and cherry bay. You'll be going to the Darkest waters docks with me where I'll pass you over to Ruffino to see if you can handle stacking and moving crates. You last the day, and you get the job. Any other questions before we throw you into the shallow end of being a dock worker?" Old Legs and Hessin just looked at the man, waiting for a reply.

[Kon]

Kon spends a moment sizing up Hessin and mulling everything that's been said over. He was strong enough to handle the work, if it was anything like what he'd seen being done on this end of the bay. Although he wasn't quite as powerful as the dockworkers who had likely been performing their tasks for a good while now, Kon had a strong back and was used to heavy physical work thanks to lack of a gift for any particular trade.

Giving a nod, Kon glances between them. "Two gold mizas is enough for me to get by on. Anything else I should know before I get started?" This last bit was added with just a touch of suspicion. Moment by moment Kon was growing more distrustful of his surroundings. He'd noticed nearly half a dozen thefts or other crimes on his way here alone. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this city wasn't a place for making assumptions about one's situation or safety, and Kon wouldn't put it past either of these two to be involved in something underhanded- particularly at the expense of a new worker nobody knows about.

Kon stretches and glances back to Hessin once more. "If not, lead the way. Might as well get started now." Once again Kon makes an effort to shove his concerns to the back of his mind. If he went around being paranoid about everyone, he'd probably go mad before the end of the week. Making a promise to himself to keep his eyes open and not let anyone sneak up on him, he decides to let fortune and his instincts protect him. Of course, he did make a note to himself to find out what he could about who and what to avoid here, and hopefully find a friend or two he could trust to watch his back. "Thanks for the chance, you won't regret it."

[Archelon]

Hessin nodded once at Ol' Legs before motioning Kon to follow him along with a group of other laborers. About twenty in total, all just playing follow the leader as they walked to the bridge by the commons, crossed, headed east around the entrance to the gated community and the casino for a few streets before walking down to Darkest Waters, one of the twin piers that jutted out into the fetid waters of baroque bay. Like any form of docks the ships were tied up, and people were carrying crates to dollies and lifting arms to heave them up with ropes over to ships. It was a mess of organized chaos if there ever was such a thing. Kon's ability to look around though would be interrupted by Hessin's loud voice shouting as he handed off half of the thirty workers, "Hey Rufinno! I got a fish for the day for ya. New one to. If he lasts the day tell Ol' Legs he's set for a job." Ruffino, a tall, brown eyed man gruffly nodded and looked at Kon, "This him?" "Yep." Ruffino turned to look over at the rather scrawny, for a dockworker, man and grunted noncommittedly. "Alright, I got 100 crates to be shipped upon the Bloody Marie down at the third berth of the second fork of the dock. About two hundred feet in total. You fifteen, start 'em moving. Fish. Just get in line and follow along and don't drop anything, watch out for any skeeving orphans too. I'll check up on you if I feel like it. So get your back into it! Don't piss off the merchants, the taggers, any wandering dragoons, and definitely none of the sailors or their captains either. It goes without saying that you don't mess with anyone else who looks like they might crush your skull and follow the old hands directions as you help them fill their lots. I'll talk to you when the day is over.." Without another word, Kon was forced along with the other fifteen workers to a large stack of crates being unloaded by the wagonful, guarded by Ol' Legs' "taggers'' as they waited for the laborers to move the product, sometimes helping, sometimes merely keeping watch. They weren't there to help guard the dockworkers lives, no far from it. They were there to observe that the goods weren't messed with. A few even playfully knocked a dockworker or two upside the head if they mishandled something fragile. All of it was the start of Kon's new life as a worker. oocAnd from here on out you should treat this like a solo describing a day on the docks laboring as it goes. I'll keep an eye on this and grade it out when you're done. Just put it up in the request thread like the rest. Try to give at least five more good posts .

[Kon]

Getting pushed along with the others, it doesn't take much to figure out his job- actually doing it, on the other hand, is a mite trickier. The first thing Kon notices is that he underestimated the weight he'd have to carry by a good deal. The average crate is easily half again what he'd planned on. Kon finds this out the hard way, as he nearly loses his balance and just barely avoids dropping his load when he first attempts to lift one. Fortunately, whatever is inside has been well packed and seems to be fairly sturdy, so nothing was damaged. Catching several warning looks from nearby taggers and a few growls from the other workers, but not receiving anything worse, Kon continues on with the load. He makes an extra effort not to get in anybody's way and to watch where he steps- Kon has always had good luck, but he has his doubts that carelessness will serve him here.

Finally reaching the ship and placing the crate under the direction of one of the crewmen, Kon takes a deep breath. Well, that's one down. By his reckoning (though he was hardly well educated in working with numbers) he'd have to make the trip about ten times in all. With a sigh and a glance back across to where he'd started, Kon shakes his head. He was here, he had signed on for this, and he was going to do his job. Besides, he could handle it. He'd just been caught off guard to begin with. With another breath, he starts off to begin again.

This time, it goes a bit smoother. Either this crate is lighter than the norm, the other was somewhat heavier, or some combination of both. Kon is able to lift it without his earlier trouble, and starts trudging towards the ship at roughly the same rate as the others. Though his muscles are already beginning to ache from the work halfway to the ship, Kon knows he'll be able to get through the day. If he can get through the day, he can get through any day. If he can get through any day, he'll have his job. Now, he just had to move forward, one foot at a time, one crate at a time, until he was finished...

[Kon]

By the time he's dropped off his third load, Kon has grown confident enough in his step to take in a little more of his surroundings. He examines the taggers, some of which he'd be willing to bet he could take in a fight, others he'd make a point of avoiding even on a good day. He glances at the other workers, listening as two or three joke with each other, a few others simply trudge on with their task, and five or six more curse and grumble under their breath. He even catches a few appraising looks towards himself. At least three of the others had taken the time to size him up- as a potential threat or as a possible target, he isn't sure which.

As he continues onward, he notices the sorts that the taggers are watching for. He spies several thin, emaciated looking children staring hungrily as the goods pass, not quite desperate enough to make a move to get past the taggers. He catches sight of a few more sinister looking figures, standing by and sizing up their odds- or perhaps looking for potential marks.

Kon is so wrapped up in his observations that he doesn't notice he and the man in front of him have reached the ship until almost colliding with the other man. Coming to a quick stop and giving a sigh of relief as he manages to hold on to his burden, Kon carefully places the crate to rest under the deckhand's instructions and mutters a quick apology. He rolls his shoulders and uses his scarf to wipe some of the sweat from his face. He looks back and grins at the slowly dwindling pile of crates. He'd still have a few more loads ahead of him, but the job was getting done.