[Sunset Quarter] A Room of Their Own (Keres and Hatter)

[Verduth]

37th Day, Fall 510 A.V. - Late in the Day “And this my dear fellow is Sunset Quarter,” said the little clay man as he led his larger, strangely shod companion down yet another street. All in all, the Pycon was feeling enormously successful. It had only taken a few bells to find the location and for the most part they'd hadn't passed through any one area more than a couple of times. Really it was quite the record for the Pycon who was not only easily distracted, but couldn't really move as quickly as the other city inhabitants. Admittedly, his companion had gotten a tad on the irritated side when they'd gone in circles for a bit, but in the end they'd made it to their goal. Not that he'd even known it was a goal when they'd set out. It had taken some asking around, and though people weren't usually rude to the Pycon, with his friend Zitharta standing behind him, they were even friendlier and quick to provide information. It was so refreshing how people wanted to be so helpful and hurry the pair on their way! “Now we just have to find this Calyn person,” the little clay man mused as his companion stalked behind him, looking rather fatigued. He did hope that his companion hadn't been too put out by their tour around the city. He did so enjoy mimicking the gestures of the larger creatures and now was the perfect opportunity to learn one he'd picked up the other day. The Pycon rubbed his chin in what he knew to be a “thinking” gesture as he looked around the street for a someone to ask questions of, but there weren't many people about at the moment and the few who were present were hurrying away on some business or another. He started rummaging through his little sack as he walked over to a seemingly abandoned pile of junk. It soon became apparent that he was digging a triple pronged fishing hook attached to fishing cord from his bag. He began to twirl the hook around his head until it reached a speed that seemed to please him before launching it through the air towards the top of the junk. It sailed through the air and missed, by a good three inches as his companion watched on. “A miss, but I'll get it!” He swung the hook around his head again, launched and caught the edge of the pile. He hoped he didn't look too surprised. Alas, when he tugged, it slipped right off. “One more,” he cried. The little man pulled the hook back, positioned himself to spin it and was swept up and plunked on the pile in an quick move by his companion. He seemed to straighten his clothes even though there were no clothes to straighten. “I would have made it eventually, thank you.” His pride was a little hurt, but nothing he wouldn't get over. Back to the task at hand, he knew exactly how he could get someone's attention. It was his “job” after all. The little clay man puffed up his chest as if drawing in a deep and yelled out in a surprisingly loud little voice. “Can anyone direct me to Ms. Calyn?”

[Keres]

Keres followed the little man-thing with as much patience as he could even though it became rather clear that it had no idea what it was doing. He did his best to hide the irritation he felt when it approached others on the street, obviously inquiring for directions. Keres did have to admit to himself that this little thing was able to easily elicit information from these humans far more easily than he would have been able to.

This thought began to work on Keres as he followed along. Were these people breaking what seemed to be their own social etiquette to answer this things questions because it was so confident or was it because it was of such a small size that no one considered it to be any real threat? Several times during these brief conversations, he could tell that the little thing referred to him standing a short ways behind, and the reactions had all been the same. The person who had been approached would glance up and immediately stiffen their entire body.

Upon thinking this, Keres had glanced down at himself and compared what he saw there to what he saw in the other passers by. He was surprised to find that even he focused on his dark red hair and the black claws on his hands, but he also noticed other differences that may make these people wince. His posture, for instance, as he had previously observed was more upright than these people's, but then again so was the little man-thing's posture, seeing as it walked in a way that seemed to be it stretching itself as tall as it could and when it looked at someone it looked directly into their face rather than at their hands.

He considered picking the man-thing up and carrying it, but it was quite the thing to observe behaving unimpaired. Thus, Keres continued to tolerate the slow pace and said nothing when he noticed they were backtracking. He contented himself to simply observe.

When the man-thing stopped and took out a fishing line and hook, Keres watched in anticipation as it tried to grapple its way onto the pile. When it missed the second time, Keres simply reacted without thinking: the tiredness of his long journey and lack of sleep was betraying him.

The little man-thing shouted loudly into the street at passers by and stood expectantly as if someone had to have paid attention to him. Keres decided that it was likely better if he move away and let the man-thing do what it did without Keres making people nervous.

He moved to the side a short ways down the nearest building where he had a clear view of the man-thing, but did not seem to be immediately involved, and watched closely.

[Hatter]

The rabble of the Quarters did not seem to care about the duo. While most were human, the destitute crowds were keen to ignore the Python and half-breed, more concerned with their own well being than that of the rowdy pair. Information came seldom. No strangers to the harsh pushing of the more physically able, most of the bums and beggars were no more frightened of the pair than a small child, preferring to go about their business with little mind of the temporary intrusion. Some small probings at least lead them to the heart of the Quarters. A sad state of housing, the center of the community was a long, open street, flanked on each side by snuggly built apartments, each laying upon the other in both a horizontal and vertical fashion. There were few alleys and each building was a minimum of three stories, making for a queer sort of man-made valley in the middle of the city. The Pycon's call managed to draw some attention. "Miss Calyn?" A gentle, humored voice came from what seemed to be nowhere. Within a moment a woman appeared behind the little man, though there had been no one there previous. Strange. "I hear she doesn't like titles much." Softly she smiled and glanced down at the little clay creature. The woman was a peculiar sight in the slum, comely in her features, yet strong and charismatic. White-spun hair tumbled past her shoulders and she wore a plain, albeit well filled, woolen dress with a Suvai belted to her hip. "What is it you need of her, friend?"

[Verduth]

The little clay man stared up at the woman with a gaping mouth, apparently fascinated. “My! You just popped right out of no where! That's a marvelous trick!” He craned his neck to peer into the shadows behind her, teetering precariously on the edge to get a better look, “are there any more of you back there?” A little disappointingly there didn't seem to be anyone else, so he returned his attention back to the woman, continuing his tirade of words with barely a pause between thoughts. “And I've never seen someone with hair that color! Is that unusual? I'd heard that old people got gray hair, but your's looks so white and you don't look old at all! And you're so pale, not at all covered in dirt, is that what everyone looks like when they get clean? Ah! But my apologies my lady, I haven't introduced myself. I am the littlest ringmaster and I am here to... no wait, what am I here for.” He decided that now was a good time to scrunch his face up and tap his lips in another thinking gesture he had learned while he thought about it. The woman was so interesting that his original purpose had slipped his mind. He started mumbling to himself, “I wasn't here to put on a show, that's done for the day. Then I went and met, oh yes! My associate! I was here to find a place to stay for my... associate.” He had gestured to an empty spot where he'd left his strangely shod friend. “He's disappeared!” The little clay man spun around three times before laying eyes on Keres. “My dear friend! Why are you standing over there? Come come, you'll never get a room if you insist on skulking about like that!” The Pycon turned back to the woman. “My apologies, my good lady, it's all come back to me now, I was supposed to be finding Ms... er, this Calyn lady, to acquire lodgings for my associate here.” He gave her his most charming grin, full of little clay teeth.

[Keres]

Keres allowed himself to be drawn nearer, despite his inclination either to flee or to remain exactly where he was. So far, this man-thing had not treated him ill, nor had it actually lead him astray, and Keres certainly had no idea what he was doing. Even more than that, the fatigue of traveling for so long and having not slept the night before was clouding his mind. He was beginning to feel distant from himself, almost like he could watch himself from afar, but was unable to quite focus.

His mind was drifting. He hadn't noticed that he was this tired until just now. Perhaps it was that he had stopped for the first time since sunset yesterday, and his nervousness was no longer supplying him with energy. He willfully pushed his attention back on what was happening immediately before him. He stepped up to the pile of junk that the man-thing was standing on, and nodded towards the woman that it had been speaking with even though he hadn't at all followed what was being said.

[Hatter]

The woman did not react to Keres' presence. Not at first. Her attention lingered on the Pycon until the half-Zith offered a greeting, the nod of which was returned in a polite fashion. Her eyes ever left Verduth. There was a peculiar air about the Konti. She seemed aware, dangerous even, as if she could read minds and knew every action of those that kept her company. And always that smile remained. Humored, she lowered herself to a level with the little man and offered him a hand. "Then you've found her. A pleasure to meet you, Ser Pycon." The smile spread, if that was even possible, and she left her hand out to conclude the introduction. "Is your friend mute? It will be rather difficult to conduct his business without his input, I must say."