Open [Baroque Bay] In a Clamshell

[Nellie Hawkins]

.5th bell.
.13th of fall, 514av.

The sky was clear above the water; a grey, pre-dawn thing that still could herald calm sunshine or gloomy rain. It was early, and the beach was as peaceful as it ever got, with just a handful of people roaming near the docks. The water itself seemed calm, retreating from the shoreline and leaving curious depressions in the sand.

Hunched over one such depression was Nellie; she'd rolled her trouser legs up, exposing tanned calves to the elements, but keeping her clothes reasonably dry. Given the general state of her clothes, the fastidious action seemed frivolous, a fact that had not escaped her notice. A thin smile of amusement crawled over her face; her clothes might actually benefit from a good soaking. The true danger might be that if she unrolled her trousers, the bottom would get wet and look unnaturally clean.

Nellie allowed herself a soft snort of laughter, which quickly faded. All business again, she brought her shovel to bear, sticking it straight into the ground about 6 inches from the depression. Under the sand, though she couldn't see it, Nellie knew that her quarry would be reacting to the disturbance by pulling its neck back into the shell. She supposed that was the clam equivalent of running, but this clam was doomed.

Rocking her shovel back and forth, she widened the slice in the sand; using the shovel carefully, she scraped away at the sand until she could see just the tip of a shell. Grinning in at the unsuspecting clam, Nellie dropped to her knees in the sand and began using her hands to scoop out more dirt, until she had unearthed her victim. Gently prying it from the sand, she dropped it neatly in her bucket, where it sat awaiting its fate in about 3 inches of water.

"Not to worry, little clam. I'll hunt you up a friend and you can wait for the cookpot together."

Having found her first clam of the day with much less effort than she anticipated, Nellie grabbed her tools and set off down the beach, looking for another tell-tale dimple in the sand.

[Aerer]

 

Aerer – 5th Bell – Dodging sleep


Sunberth, 13, Fall, 514 A.V



Work had brought him down near the bay.

His business with “The Leg”, or more specifically one of Harry's associates, was a brief and fairly lucrative stint that had now left him awake, restless and leisurely strolling near the waters edge. The stroll didn't involve dice, women or drinks but the early morning (or late evening, depending on who you asked) breeze was a nice change of pace from the city and its vagik inhabitants who assaulted his senses on a daily basis. His pocket jingled with newly acquired coin already reserved for some games of chance later that day and he found himself surprisingly jovial.

Was it a high paying position? No, not as such, but standing guard while crates and boxes were hoisted into a boat off to gods know where was an easy enough evening. Should someone approach, flash some steel and the problem goes away. Now was it legal? Here's your pay. Had been the reply. Whether a seedy business or an un-talkative overseer, he realized it didn't matter all that much to him.

It was the abrupt laugh that caught his ears and his attention. Honestly now, whats all this then?

Turning, he found a petite waif dancing about the sand with a shovel like a dog might round up sheep. He twisted his head slightly to the left, a lewd smile creeping across thin lips while she remained absorbed in her work. Appealing? Certainly, there were parts to admire but truthfully? She was a twig, a diminutive chit that could blow away at the slightest breeze. Regardless, cold eyes ogled and sized her up before speaking.

“Ey, little bird, what ya doing all alone out here on the beach?” He bellowed abruptly at Nellie, grasping the hilt of his sword and taking a step forward. He tried putting on an immense scowl, though it was incredibly hard to maintain as internally he was dying of laughter. Truthfully he had no knack for intimidation but should she just happen to flee and leave a bucket of dinner for him, he wouldn't mind in the slightest.

[Lo'campo]

He walked the shoreline in his basic clothing, letting the water glide over his feet as they left impressions in the soft sand. He knelt down slowly sifting his hand through the water looking for the hard shelled bodies that he needed for his studies. He couldn't believe it, he an Akalak warrior out on his hands and knees looking for clams. Though the thought nearly bewildered him he knew that if he wanted to get better at medicine, he would have to find ingredients seeing that he was too cheap to buy something that he could go find for free. Lo'campo laughed at himself as he continued to dig only to find nothing. The large male stood up to stretch his now aching back before looking into his pouch at all the newly found plants and things he would be researching when he got home. He looked up to the sky not sure what time it was, all he knew was that he had been out at this beach for hours. Hours of digging holes into the ground only to find everything except what he was looking for. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath and looking out ahead at the long stretch of the beach. There was no one around, which made sense. Who would wan't to enjoy themselves at a beach in Sunberth the land of the lawless. Anyone that dare tried were pretty foolish, pretty wealthy, pretty skilled, or protected. Scanning back he noticed two bodies standing barely out of his eyesight but close enough for him to make them out. It looked as if one person was bent over as the other stood over them. Did someone just get murdered on the beach? Lo'campo grinned. Pretty dumb he spoke out loud moving in for a better look. The first person he clearly made out was the one knelt down. It was a female, human or kelvic in human form. If he had to guess she had to be about 5'6 and had dark hair. Lo'campo stopped in his tracks. He knew that girl. Well not know as in knew her personally, but he knew she lived in the quarter as he did. He let out an annoyed sigh. This meant that he would have to go save her. "It is your job to maintain the Sun Quarter, and protect all it's tenants at all times unless you are attacked or witnessing an attack from one tenant to another" Jilene's voice played back in his head. He gave an frustrated look. Why was he always put into these situations. Seeing it now as his job Lo'campo put his hands around his back taking hold of his lakan and continued walking toward the two trying to seem inconspicuous. Realizing that Jilene would kick him out let alone fire him if word got to her about he not doing his duties when at the scene he slowly began to speed his pace so he would be able to move in quickly if needed be. Nothing had happened yet as he now stood behind the woman who was not bleeding nor seemed to be in any pain let alone notice his presence. Hello his voice cut through the silence. The area seemed safe, but he wasn't too sure about the man holding the hilt of his short sword. Lo'campo put on a fake smile....Man did he hate his job.

[Amon Torque]

Amon walked slowly through the sand, gazing into the brush for one of his favorite herbs, fauxil. He had been walking through the marshy oceanside for over a half an hour with nothing to show for it. He sighed and continued his treck, looking even harder than before. To his delight he found a small patch of the fernlike plant. Amon bent down and yanked upwards as he cut the base of the stalk, taking all the leaves and fronds with it. He placed the green plant into his backpack, and continued to harvest the remaining three plants. He grinned with satisfaction at his find.

Rejuvenated by his success Amon picked up his pace searching even more diligently than before. To his surprise he began to smell a familiar aromatic scent. He looked down and noticed he was standing over a balltor plant. He grinned again and bent over to harvest the rounded leaves, inhaling the scent and invisioning feasts. He put the herb in his backpack and gazed forward toward the upcoming beach. He squinted as he tried to get a better look at what seemed to be a large man standing over a petite girl.

Amon decided to see what was happening, but made sure to keep his distance. He was armed with only his steak knife, but had no intent of watching any more murder, or becoming the victim of a murder. Amon got closer and slowed his pace, giving the pair a good deal of space, but he was close enough to see what was really happening. From up close the situation was more or less dire than he had thought, for the girl wasn't cowering, she was clamming. But the man above her held the grip of a sword tightly. Wait just a second, Amon thought, his survival instincts kicking in, he is holding a sword, run! Amon resisted and stayed, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

[Nellie Hawkins]

Nellie whirled around at the question, its abruptness and volume startling her more than it should have. Defensively, she held her clamming shovel in front of her and tried to look like she was capable of slaying armies with it. The man before her wasn't particularly intimidating to look at, except for the sword. Dark hair, pale skin, blue - very blue - eyes, currently narrowed menacingly in her direction.

She debated the wisdom of answering his question versus throwing her bucket at him and running the other direction, but was saved from either choice by another greeting - a civilized one, approaching from behind.

A quick glance behind her showed a large, muscular blue man approaching. What the petch? Is there a party today? She couldn't stop the thought, but beneath it Nellie was thinking - fast. Which one was more likely to harm her?

Choice A: Yelling. Scowling. Glaring at her.

Choice B: Massive. Polite, sort of. Blue. Vaguely familiar, though if that was good or bad, she couldn't tell.

Choice C: She could still throw the bucket and run.

Her grip on the shovel tightened, muscles tensing while she weighed her options, such as they were. Throwing her lot in with Big Blue, she took a half-step backwards, aligning herself with what she hoped was the least of two evils.

But what if they're working together?'

Ruthlessly squashing that thought, she forced a bright smile up at the large man behind her, greeting him as though he'd been expected.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting nearly a bell," Nellie swung the shovel up to rest on her shoulder, the casual gesture buying her a tick to flesh out her story. "I've started digging without you - already got 4 clams for dinner. You'll have to dig fast to catch up!"

'Okay, good. Believable. Now zip it.'

But she'd never been good at taking advice, even her own. To the other man, she offered a guarded greeting and a decidedly icier smile. "Hullo. We were digging for clams; great beach for it, y'know."

'Stop now, shut up, SHUT UP. The more you talk, the more suspicious you look!'

Finally, she took her own advice, clamping her lips together tightly, eyes darting back and forth between the men. Body taut with fear and uncertainty, she locked her gaze on the tall man, hoping he'd take the hint. Hoping he really was the safer option. Hoping he wasn't too thick to go along with the story she'd made up on the spot.

Hoping he wouldn't think she'd actually just invited him to dinner.

[Aerer]

 

Aerer – 5th Bell – Disengage!


Sunberth, 13, Fall, 514 A.V



He petching hated dealing with Akalaks.

They're too damn quiet. Too impassive. Like trying to communicate with a shykin wall. A disarming smile replaced the lascivious grin that had only moments before been stretched across his countenance. Nimble digits fluttered away from the hilt of his blade like dew on the Akvatar islands. His stance shifting like a child being caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

The wheels in his head were turning as he moved, considering the plausibility of little mouse's words. It was possible, not probable, but possible she was telling the truth and that the Akalak was her friend. Additionally if this was the same blue behemoth that was knocking heads together last week on the streets he was not interested in being on his bad side.

“Ah, well met! Well met! I was just ...speaking to your, ah, friend here as a concerned citizen and...” His gaze flickered over to the girl briefly, before bouncing back to big blue. “Well, you see a few nights back, I was returning from a labor trip out to help collect lumber outside of town and happened to spot what I thought was little miss here ….ah, well, celebrating near the slag heap fire.”

Holding his hand up to dismiss any potential interruptions he quickly added. “I just wanted to warn her that if it was her and if she was new to the city, she should really be careful down there. Some nasty degenerates crawling around the outskirts, or so I hear.” Satisfied with his, unnecessary and overtly concerned tip, the smile disintegrated from his face, replaced with a serious tone to help compliment the moment.

While waiting for a response, an uneasy chill rose to the back of his neck and he felt as if he was being watched. Turning to look he spotted Amon who seemed all but frozen on the sandy beach. His eyes narrowed as his breath caught. Hadn't he seen this man before too? Was there a reason he was following him? Being so close to Dead Man's Swaggers pier had him all but believing that the man might be some sort of hallucination or phantasm. Perhaps he had met an unfortunate end? His body shivered and he turned around. No. he decided. One problem at a time. The apparition would just have to wait its petching turn.

[Lo'campo]

All he said was hello. It was a friendly hello though it's dressings were suspicious of what was happening, but never would Lo'campo think that a simple hello would cause someone to bolt to his side making up a story about clams and food nor cause another to babble about being a good citizen. The Akalak was confused and did not know what to do at this point. Honestly, he thought that they both were on some type of drug....This was Sunberth after all. He stood looking back and forth between the two liars. He could tell that the girl was lying seeing that he had no clue to who she was, and though the boy could have been telling the truth, this still was Sunberth. Wondering how he gets himself into these types of messes he realized that the two bodies that he had forgot stood next to him were now looking up to him for an answer. The Akalak panicked not knowing what was going on but not letting it show on his face. He didn't know what to say as he searched his mind for the only things he could remember "Clams, food, good citizen" putting those words together he constructed a sentence in his mind. Oh yea, we were just searching for clams so we can eat later. You could join us in our search if you want, there aren't that many good citizens here in Sunberth. You can even join us for dinner, right? he said looking down at the female stranger that just invited him to dinner and offered to help him search for clams. He killed two birds with one stone. He would get his clams and a well cooked meal he hopped, expecting the woman to know how to cook seeing that she offered. Smooth he thought to himself as a relaxed look settled in on his face. He wasn't that gullible though. The man had a good cover for being at the beach with his story, but something told Lo'campo that if he wouldn't have shown up when he did something different would have happened between the two. He got a good look at the man he was short...Then again everyone was short to him. He gave a quiet chuckle his hands now off his weapon. He glanced down into the woman's bucket eyeing all the clams that she had caught. Wow she was experienced. Could you help me find some clams for myself please? I am having a hard time. he asked giving a smile as he sat on the sand and began to dig with his large hands. He looked up at the two that were still standing motioning them to join in. If they were going to eat dinner soon they would need all the clams that they could get.

[Amon Torque]

Amon looked at the group, pleased. It was going to be ok, for he knew the large, blue man would protect the girl. He had done so for Amon, so he would do so for the clamming girl. Aerer was clearly not Amon's biggest fan, or at least the daggers that were being glared at him weren't saying so. Amon glared back, not going to back down easily, and the man turned back to his conversation. Amon did not feel like a brawl, so he turned and walked up the beach hurriedly. Although he was tired of running, there was little he could do, his steak knife had killed two people, but what about in a real fight.

This thought echoed through Amons head as he walked back to his apartment, gazing back at the beach from a distance. He decided a trip to the weapons stand may do him some good, and if it would, he would go there soon. But first he needed to earn some money, and with his herbs in tow, he knew just how to do that. Maybe he would offer the Akalak some medicine someday, for saving his life, and for saving him from an intervention.

Amon pondered the earlier dilemma, thinking about the blue man some more. Maybe not everyone from Sunberth was as bad as they tried to look. Amon promised himself to open up to more citizens if the chance arose to make a new friend. And friends he may need to survive the upcoming months, with the gangs fighting more than ever.

[William Hart]

"Come back, blasted dog!" he shouted above the rhythmic sound of waves on the sand. He'd chased the mutt all across the city and back, trying to snatch up the leash dragging behind its frolicking, bouncing form. He could see now why the Pastavik had been returned to Killroy's. It was too damned full of energy. William's sweaty clothes clung to his body in all the wrong places. His hair and brow were wet with perspiration, droplets cascading from the tip of his nose and chin. His lungs felt about to burst, and he was just a few more failed attempts away from leaving the dog to find its own way back.

It dashed wildly down the beach, spraying sand and bits of driftwood. With a few joyous barks it uprooted a resting flock of gulls. They squawked fearfully and took to the sky, turning to the safety of the waters. William lagged and slowed, weaving with exhaustion until he finally stumbled to a stop, hands on his knees and heaving for air. It was a sore reminder of how his health had declined over the summer. Without a job food had been scarcer, and his pockets were lighter than they'd been in years. He'd lost a noticeable amount of muscle mass and weight. It would take a long time to build it all back, and with winter just around the corner he was more than a little apprehensive.

If this was how working at Killroy's was going to be, he wasn't sure he was physically up for it right now. William wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve. He knew he couldn't just let the dog go. First, it could cost him this job, and no matter how hard the work would be for now, he couldn't risk money. Second, the Gods only knew what would happen to it in a place like this. It could end up on someone's table tonight. The thought was unpleasant. Some people in Sunberth didn't care where their meat came from, be it rats, pigeons, cats, or dogs. Will for one couldn't stomach anything that exotic. The thought alone made his mouth twist in disgust. So he forced himself to keep going, even if his muscles protested and burned. He was done running, but he would walk.

William reluctantly shuffled after the trail of paw prints left in the sand. The dog was long gone, but up ahead it had stumbled upon a small confrontation on the sand. The excitement of new people successfully stopped the Pastavik's frolicking, and bravely it cut into their gathering with the hopes of a pet.

OOCI had hoped to join this sooner, but some things came up that needed attending first.

[Nellie Hawkins]

Her spine stiffened defensively at the man's words. Sure, she'd been to the slag heap once or twice, but strictly for exploration. And scavenging. Oftentimes, visitors to the slag heap would leave behind bits of this and that that an enterprising young woman could either make use of or make profit from. She wasn't above a bit of scavenging when times were lean, and what of it? She lifted her chin in unconscious challenge. What had he been doing there, anyway, to see her?

Eyes narrowed in mute challenge but, for once, her mouth stayed shut, allowing the Akalak to carry the conversation. 'Wait - what?' Catching just the tail end of the blue man's reply, Nellie started a bit and fixed him with a baleful stare. 'Petch it! Now I have to cook for both of them?'

Taking it almost for granted that she would agree to his change in their "plans", the Akalak sunk down to the sand and started pawing at it. With one last unreadable look at the man standing next to her, Nellie huffed and crouched down in the sand next to the large man. By now his hands hand made short work of the process; blue skin was covered in sand and sunk several inches into the hole he'd created literally digging for clams. Quite ineffectively, too, she noted with some small satisfaction.

"I don't have enough bowls for everybody. Someone has to bring their own," she agreed, reluctantly."But, yea. Have dinner with us; the more the merrier?" At least no one had gotten violent yet. If she had to cook dinner for random strangers as a trade off for her safety, she supposed that would be alright. But she didn't have to be happy about it. "And you're doing that wrong," she groused to the Akalak.

Even to her own ears, she sounded unreasonably grumpy and Nellie sighed quietly; forcing a smile, she tried again. "You see these little circles in the sand?" Nellie pointed to a small grouping of little ring-shaped depressions, "These mean there's a clam here - more than one, from the looks of it. Each ring will have a clam at the bottom of it. These little holes are where they stick their -" she paused, unsure just how to phrase it. With a shrug, she settled on the simplest answer, "where they stick their heads out to eat."

It was more complicated than that, she knew. It wasn't an actual head, first of all, just an opening at the end of a neck. She knew this because, when she was younger, she'd severed all sorts of the petchin' things and ended up cooking 'clam neck' soup. "When you bother the sand next to them, they pull their heads back into their shells. Like turtles."

While she'd been speaking, Nellie had almost forgotten her earlier irritation. Suddenly, there was another interruption that erased it completely: a dog. The animal bounded up to the small group of strangers acting for all the world as though he belonged there. The eager energy was infectious, and Nellie couldn't help but laugh as she was nearly bowled over onto her backside. Her hand went to the furry head automatically, patting and scratching behind the ears, while her eyes scanned the beach. Surely the dog belonged to someone?