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Seriously, Dallen's out of money.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Dallen on June 26th, 2014, 11:27 am

Dallen McHenderson


Summer 1, 514
Dallen, miserable, moped around the streets near his home on West Street. Six petching gold on a tab, due to a merchant, and no money in the near future. What rotten luck... Stumbling on a loose cobblestone, Dallen grumbled, and picked himself back up.

Walking a short distance, he spotted a small pouch, lying on the ground. Looking for something to take his mind off of his troubles, he opened it, drawing a string, and saw the glitter of gold inside. Eyes widening, he looked around, seeing if anyone was looking at him. Moving to a side alley, he began to count it. After about a minute, the total seemed to be about 25 gold, 8 silver, and 32 copper mizas. Leaning against the wall of the alley, he slapped his forehead and closed the bag. That amount of money was a merchant's sum, about what a businessperson would make after a few days.

Conspicuously trying to be inconspicuous, Dallen hunched over, walking down the street. Dallen could run into many people, and he wouldn't know, they'd have to approach him.

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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Black Onyx on June 26th, 2014, 1:02 pm

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Black had been having some-what of a slow day, her back was pressed against a wall of a random building, with her arms crossed over her chest as her head also rested against the building's wall. Her brown hues had been closed as she listened to the people all around her as they set about their daily business. If word on the street was correct, a ship had sailed in from Nyka to replenish diminishing supplies.

She was dressed in her usual black garb so then while she was standing in amongst the shadows, less people were less likely to notice her appearance. Although if someone did, they would just simply think that the woman was sleeping instead of actually listening to the people's voices that drifted around the area.

It was a typical day, some what hot, especially when dressed as she was, but she didn't mind, she had grown used to it in fact. She preferred it really, although she left the hood of her cloak drawn down, her black locks clearly visible to any prying eye, as they spilled down around her shoulders and down her back.

Slowly, she opened her muddy gaze to view the surrounding people, most were going on their usual day to day activities. Some were merchants looking to collect money on profit, others were sailors as they were either making their way to the local tavern, whore house or even back to ship to get ready to sail again.

A sigh settled upon her lips as her gaze viewed and listened to people as the sun shined down strongly upon their backs. Some of the people were sweating, especially those that were rather large around their stomachs. Perhaps, Black mused to herself, that they should do more running often, loose some of that fat.

However, it was as her gaze was flickering over the people that her gaze settled upon the man that she was some-what familiar with. The blonde hair and those blue eyes, she remembered those from when she had been about to steal from him, but had decided not to, for he was a drunk with a vision. She found his stance to be rather odd at the moment, especially for someone that considered himself to be good and with a dream to be a wave guard.

Leaning forwards, she placed her weight back upon her feet, her arms uncrossing to fall down to her sides and she then gently stepped in amongst the people. She kept the hood of her cloak down, for the simple fact being, was that she wasn't robbing anyone. "Hey! Dallen!" She called as she began to make her way towards the male.
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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Jared on June 26th, 2014, 1:31 pm

Sweat pearled on Jared’s forehead as he made his way through the busy street. Although warm, it wasn’t really hot outside. Summer had begun that very day and it was sunny, but that wasn’t the reason for the young man’s sweating. He had been on his way to the library, but on his way there he had realized he’d forgotten the most important thing at home. His goal at the library was to make notes on a subject he had been reading up on lately. Motion, more specifically turning rotational movement into linear movement. Nonetheless, if the young scholar wanted to take notes, he’d need his book and ink.

The young man had turned around and was now walking down West Street. It was crowded today. With, much needed, supplies arriving at the docks today, the city was buzzing with activity. People were moving about with a quickened pace. Some were even running. Jared kept it at a quick pace though. With his bulky figure and lack of exercise, that was all he could muster.

Making his way through the crowd, meandering left and right, he suddenly smiled. To his left there was a man pushing forth a handcart. A perfect example of rotation into linear movement he thought, soon followed by an acute sense of pain as a blond man walked into him.
“Excuse me sir, I wasn’t looking where I was going”
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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Dallen on June 27th, 2014, 11:15 am

Dallen McHenderson


"Hey! Dallen!" The kelvic's voice cut through the crowd like a knife. Jerking in surprise and turning around quickly, Dallen hid the pouch in his pocket, which he didn't realize caused it to bulge somewhat. Smiling nervously, he waved weakly and said, "H-Hey, Black, how's things?" Sweating, he looked left and right for an escape. The escape came in the form of a shorter man hit the small of his back, causing him to wince and whirl around.

Dallen, relieved and at the same time annoyed at the intrusion, stared coldly at the man, listening. “Excuse me sir, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Glancing back at Black, he said, "It is all right, but please watch where you're going next time, okay?" Resigning himself to the fact that he couldn't get away, he stopped where he stood, thinking, Well, if it comes down to it, at least I'll have a witness to tell the Guard.... Still slightly nervous, he clapped his left hand over the pouch in his pocket, to keep the coins from clanking. "So, how can I help you, Black?"

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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Black Onyx on June 30th, 2014, 5:07 am

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Black's brown hues had caught sight of the pocket that he had slipped something into and it bulged a little bit as the male before her smiled some-what nervously and gave her a meek wave. Was he sweating? The male was acting rather odd, considering he was supposively someone with a good soul, a good soul that wanted to become a wave guard. She came to a stop a couple feet away from him as he began to look left and right. From her experience, those that looked rather nervous and acted strange, were holding a guilty conscious and she couldn't help but wonder as to what exactly was wrong with the male before her. What had he done in order to gain a guilty conscious?

Her soft lips had parted to ask such a question when another man that was relatively short and had dark hair, bumped into Dallen. The movements that Dallen made as he whirled around, made a soft clinking sound and her brown hues seem to flicker towards the bulging pocket. Was he carrying Mizas that he wasn't suppose to be carrying? Her gaze then flickered between Dallen and the shorter male, puzzling over the situation that had been presented before her. Well, this is certainly different, she thought to herself as she lifted her arms to cross over her chest.

"So, how can I help you, Black?" Dallen still seemed nervous, on edge and she couldn't help but think, why don't you tell me about what's burning a hole in your pocket? Instead she looked to the other male for a moment, he was sweating as well, his bulky frame probably not taking the heat of summer too well, however, Dallen easily out-sweated this strange male. Taking a moment to glance back to Dallen, she plastered a friendly smile upon her face. "Dallen, I didn't know that I needed help, I was just hoping on catching up with a friendly conversation." Seeing as you didn't rat me out the last time that we met, she added on in her thoughts.
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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Jared on July 1st, 2014, 4:06 pm

Jared's well meant apologies were met by a cold stare and an even colder acceptance.What's up his ass, the young man thought as he backed up from the gentleman he'd bumped into. For a moment the young man thought he was in trouble. Definitely when the blond man reached for something in his clothes, most likely a weapon according to the young gadgeteer. Jared was just about to apologize some more to avoid bloodshed when his would-be adversary turned away from him and spoke to a dark haired woman which had approached during the bump in off the two men.

The two greeted each other, clearly they had a history together.
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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Dallen on July 3rd, 2014, 1:16 am

Dallen McHenderson


"Dallen, I didn't know that I needed help, I was just hoping on catching up with a friendly conversation." Inwardly Dallen gave a sigh of relief. So she didn't suspect anything, good. Maybe he could get out of this unscathed.

About to dismiss their conversation as whatever shyke he could get past her, Dallen paused to reconsider. He hadn't spoken to her in a while, so maybe he should actually try to converse with the girl. He hadn't exactly been in his right mind the last time. "Well, actually, Miss Black... I've got something to tell ye." Moving close towards her, the tails of his long coat flapped in the slight breeze. Leaning in closer, he pulled the small pouch of money out of his coat pocket. "Black, I found this on the street, and I don't know what to do. I mean, I need the money, but... I really want to find out who's this is." A conflicted look upon his face, Dallen said, "I probably need the money more, but this could be someone's entire livelihood, here! I know, you're probably the wrong person to ask, but... what should I do?" As he confided in the Kelvic, he didn't realize that his voice might carry to the stocky man behind him.

While he was speaking, however, one observant individual might notice a scruffy-looking, bearded man, well into his forties, walk from a corner, eyes set upon the pouch.



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Dallen
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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Black Onyx on July 5th, 2014, 6:35 am

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The male looked as if he was about to just throw some random words at her, just to escape her gaze, but he appeared to stop and reconsider it for a moment, his blue eyes doing that darting thing. Almost like a cornered rat in a way. However, he seemed to reconsider something and it was at that precise moment what she was just about to snort and walk off, chopping it up to the fact that he had been drunk last time that he actually spoke to her. "Well, actually, Miss Black... I've got something to tell ye." The man had something to tell her? Well this might be something good, at least she hoped it was. Any information gathered was knowledge and knowledge was power. Dallen moved closer to her form and leaned forwards as he pulled a small pouch of money out of his pocket, the small clinks was picked up by her hearing. So this was what was burning a hole into the male's pocket?

"Black, I found this on the street, and I don't know what to do. I mean, I need the money, but... I really want to find out who's this is." The man's features turned even more conflicted as he continued on. "I probably need the money more, but this could be someone's entire livelihood, here! I know, you're probably the wrong person to ask, but... what should I do?" Was he asking her what to do with it? If that was her holding that pouch full of gold Mizas she wouldn't hesitate to pocket it and walk on without a thought spared to whoever had lost it. A chuckle rose to her lips as she took a moment to swipe her black hair from her pale facial features, her brown hues taking in the male before her. He was right in saying that she was the wrong kind of person to ask, if a thief thought about how he or she might be stealing someone's life savings every time they took Mizas, they would end up starving and probably eventually dying upon the very streets they stood on. Life was cruel, some people just had to realize it yet, for it wasn't all glamorous.

Her brown gaze glanced around them for a moment, catching sight of movement over by a corner and spotted a man, a man that had seemed to be focused upon something within their direction. He was scruffy and some-what old in a way for his beard had some grey whiskers. If he was a thief, Black wouldn't say a thing, just to teach the man before her, that you shouldn't just go showing everyone the purse that you found full of gold Mizas on a busy street. Her gaze drifted back to Dallen. "While you are correct in assuming that I am the wrong person to ask it of, all I can really say is, that if that was me, I'd keep it. Anything that a thief can get their hands on they will take and keep, with no thought spared for the one loosing the Mizas. If someone had the gall to carry around that many Mizas without taking it home straight away, they are bound to loose it." Whether Dallen realized it or not, Black had simply told the man, that he shouldn't have hesitated in keeping the pouch, for now there was another thief in sight who had also spotted the pouch of Mizas he held.

The young woman paused for a moment as she realized that the other man that Dallen had bumped into, might not have left yet and her gaze flickered passed Dallen in order to view the man behind him. The bulky man was clearly eavesdropping now, for he had no real reason to be there, as both Dallen and herself did not know him. She only assumed Dallen did not know him, for the simple fact being, was that he hadn't spared the second man a long look, only a brief cold one. "Especially seeing as you never know who is watching and listening in on this very conversation." The words were spoken to Dallen, but her gaze remained fixed upon the bulky man, warning him that she knew that he was there.
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Poor, Poor Dallen

Postby Perplexity on October 18th, 2014, 6:40 pm

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Black :
Skills:
  • Observation | +1 EXP
    Socialization | +2 EXP
    Philosophy | +1 EXP
Lores:
  • Observational Insight: Spotting Dallen In A Crowd
    Philosophy: On Money, On Mizas


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