To the festival. (Nel, Murdoch, Samael)

[Murdoch]

When Murdoch emerged this time, he had at least buckled his belt. He was still shirtless, and barefoot, but Nel was too right - he was useless without his morning tea.

"You remember the sugar?" he grumbled, slouching against the doorframe and snatching the tea from between her hands. Blew on it a moment, then took a gulp and closed his eyes. "Ah, sweet nectar of the gods. Oh, there's a guy here who wants to get in your pants," he said innocently, as if he hadn't yet noticed that Sam was there, hovering to the side of the door.

[Nel Sayo]

"Of course I remembered the sugar," Nel sighed, with all the patience of a truly put-upon babysitter.

An eyebrow spiked high when he went on about the guy who wanted to get into her pants. Pale eyes shifted from Murdoch to Sam and back again, and she reached over and gave a lock of the master thief's uproarious hair a firm yank.

"Well they're the only pants I've got, and they wouldn't fit either one'a you, so...get your own pants, boys."

She shot him a big, mischievous grin. As yet unknown disaster and preternatural good humor on her mouth. A glint of intellect, sharp as a rapier's point, in her eyes.

"Anyway, we're goin' to the festival, wanna come?"

[Murdoch]

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, swatting her hand away and then just slapping her on the ass before turning to head back up the stairs, gulping down the rest of his tea and leaving them to wait on him to get himself washed and dressed and civilized again.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"I'm Sam," he tacked on to the end of their little tête-à-tête. After they had parted the previous day, he realized they hadn't exchanged names. "He can come, but I'm not buying him dinner."

He started reaching for his pouch of tobacco.

"Smoke?" he offered, hoping he wouldn't have to explain it to her as well.

[Nel Sayo]

"I'm Nel," she laughed, only just remembering that she hadn't known his name before. Pfah, names. Not so important to her in the grander scheme of things -- food, that was important. "And that's Doc. He's harmless."

Harmless like a boa constrictor in your bedroom. But she smiled, because she thought he was harmless enough. She tipped forward in her boots to peer at what Sam held, eyebrows rocking curiously upward.

"I've never tried, but sure. And...don't worry, Doc'll find dinner for himself. He knows the city really well."

Her mouth twisted into a smirk that said: that's why I keep him around, obviously. Though it was gentler than that.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Nel," he said, wrapping his mouth around her name and committing it to memory. If he didn't, he had a habit of forgetting a name within five minutes of learning it.

"And Doc." His gaze flickered toward the door. "I mean, he can come, but I'm not buying his dinner." He nodded, as she'd already assured him he wouldn't have to do anything of the sort.

He kept his thoughts on the relative safety of the missing man to himself; he knew about safe enough, too. It seemed they spoke the same language, that of survivors with flexible moral codes -- or rather, their own sort of moral code.

"Well, I'm excited, actually... to see the City and the Festival." And the corners of his mouth began tugging upward into his old smile, never the worse for wear.

[Murdoch]

"Yeah, yeah, you're not buying me dinner, we get it, child," Doc's voice echoed down the stairs before he followed it, his hair slicked back and wet from his washing up and a fresh shirt pulled over his torso, some shade of brown so dark it'd turn to black when the sun finally set. "And for the record, I don't need your permission to go anywhere. It's my petching city and I was invited by the lady," he said with a dangerous blade of a smile, "so how about you just stop ponderin' over what I can and cannot do, hmm?"

He gave a merry chuckle, one that said we're all friends here, and then slipped Nel's arm through his and started off through the city. "So, my darlings, what are you in the mood for first?"

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sam glowered a little and slung his hands into his low-hanging belt as he moved to keep up with Nel and her friend who was totally cock-blocking.

"It's up to your little swan," he said, trying to keep the sneer out of his voice.

[Nel Sayo]

Nel just rolled her eyes again, hugely, and started to say, "Would you stop being such an ass--" Except Murdoch chuckled over it.

And all at once his arm was through hers and she went stumbling along beside him, though not before she reached over and gave Sam's sleeve a tug.

"I'm hungry," Nel said, immediately. "And you're the expert," she went on, almost exasperatedly, to Doc. "Where do you think we should go? I heard there was a play or something. Some kind of show? Maybe something with music? I haven't heard them sing here, can they sing here? I like the adventure plays. And we could eat while we watch. Or maybe there's dancing? Do people dance at festivals? I can't dance, never mind. But definitely something to eat."

And so it would go with a million questions, if they let her ramble on.

[Murdoch]

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he laughed, grinning down at Nel and, for a moment, turning it to Sam as well. "You're a bit early for all of that! The festival doesn't actually start for another... oh, twenty days or so probably," he said with an apologetic shrug. "Most people come to Syliras early so they can get a room on Traveler's Row instead of having to camp it outside, which is why it's more crowded than usual, and you'll find merchants who've come to sell to them. But the plays and the music and the mad street fairs - no, those don't start for three more weeks, love. But we can find you something to eat I'm sure," he said, patting her hand comfortingly.