Things that wander (Open)

[Nyahna Sasin]

10th of Winter, 511 AV

At any other time, Sasin would have said it was fascinating. The city was constantly changing, the people wore the most outlandish clothing, and he had nearly run into an invisible wall, which he had been informed was The Temple of Ionu. Nothing was ever the same, and even getting back to his room was a challenge, one which he eagerly tackled. Under normal circumstances, Sasin would have had a thousand thoughts running through his head.

However, for the time being, all that he could think was "PEEEETTTTTCCCCHHHHH!!!" He ran madly out of the alley, pursued by a number of rainbow colored spiders. Every time he looked, they were right behind him, even though he was sure he should be able to outrun them.

Skidding around the corner, he was relieved to find that the spiders seemed unwilling to follow into the main streets. A number of passerby's glanced into the alley and hurried past it. Sasin leant against the wall, panting, trying to catch his breath and calm himself down, and then caught sight of a small, purple spider hanging on to the hilt of his knife. When he flicked it off, it scuttled away into the alley

He stared after it for a moment, then started giggling. Within seconds, he was laughing silently, doubled over with hysterics, unable to stop himself.

It was very telling that none of the passerby's even batted an eye at the sight.

[Royjeck]

"The trick isn't to run fast, but to look away." Royjeck, who was only shy of eight full feet in height, stood tall in all his awkward glory. Thick black hair and broad shoulders that naturally leaned forward in proportion to the rest of his thick barrel-like body told he wasn't human, but far from it. Sasin, well he might not have been human, but he certainly looked like one, or what was more important was he looked foreign. Foreigners to Alvadas were always a fun and interesting sight. It was impossible to know what they see, because they didn't know the sights of Alvadas, the sights it put in your eyes. Royjeck, it's all he had known for over a hundred years. A realistic world could quite possibly tear his mind apart. "Illusions are everywhere stranger, but you can't outrun them. No, they have their limits, or their own desired destinations. Some do not wish to harm you, others will. It is difficult to make sense of anything here, and even Roy is caught off guard some days, or nights." In a hundred years of surviving in Alvadas, it was hard not to see just about everything anyone could have. Royjeck shrugged his shoulders, his body was dressed in a massive pair of generic clothing, a cotton shirt with buttons and pants held up with suspenders up and around his body. He almost looked like he was human, and maybe an illusion gave him the appearance of height, weight, and hair. But, no, he was a Jamoura that merely wanted to be human, or perhaps thought he was one. Who knows, the denizens of Alvadas were often enough as eccentric and unpredictable as the city itself. After giving Sasin the gift of knowledge, he reached into his pocket and produced a piece of parchment from it. A map as it were, and specifically of the city itself. Royjeck handed the parchment to Sasin with a slow nod. "Here, a map for a lost wanderer." It was impossible to know if Royjeck was being serious, or just harassing Sasin, because once you looked at the map you saw probably exactly what anybody would expect a map of a constantly shifting city to look like. There were the walls, there was the Gaping Maw, and that little mark was the Sanity Center, everything else was simply subtracted. No shops, no residential neighborhoods, nothing. Everything was just not there. But, then again, how could you possibly map out a city that was never the same after you blinked? Curiouser and curiouser. After handing Sasin the map, he stood there waiting, patiently it seemed, as he took to the habit of tapping the butt of a large iron pole he was carrying, used partially as a walking stick, against the cobblestone ground.

[Nyahna Sasin]

His giggling fit subsided as a voice boomed above him. "But how can I look away, when these illusions are so interesting?" Sasin grinned to himself, looked up, and yelped.

A monkey. A very large, hairy monkey. For a second there, Sasin thought his brain was going to break. Closing his eyes for a second, he composed himself, then opened them again. The monkey was still the same as before, and had begun to speak again. Half of Sasin's brain was listening intently, taking notes, from what appeared to be a very experienced citizen of Alvadas, about how to survive and thrive in the city. The other half was, for the time being, incapable of thinking anything aside from "Monkey monkey monkey monkey monkey monkey monkey......"

He was snapped out of his surprise when the monkey (Roy, half of his brain supplied. The monkey had called himself Roy.) handed him a piece of paper. A map? How did one map an ever changing city? Glancing down, he grinned again. Of course, you didn't. The walls, entrance, and welcome center were there. Everything else was fluid. Still, this was something he could understand.

Standing up, Sasin offered Roy a low, sweeping, exaggerated bow, and straightened up, smiling. "A great gift, for certain, one that I will treasure forever. I would be honored if you would grace me with more of your bountiful knowledge." He said all of this light heartedly, without a trace of sarcasm, and absentmindedly nudged a nine legged cat away from his foot.

[Tharoth]

Tharoth was wandering aimlessly like he did during the days, Alvadas had the ability to show you places you'd never have seen before, despite spending decades within the city walls, there was no sense in trying to find a destination, in a city that constantly shifted, trying to find a tavern for example would only lead you to the market place, trying to find home would only lead you to the docks, wandering aimlessly was the only proper way of finding your way through the small, neat alley ways. Night time was a better time to walk around Alvadas, the illusions were of a more darker, sinister disposition, reflecting the horrors of human nature, just the perfect environment for Tharoth, it also allowed him to track unsuspecting prey that would ultimately be offerings to his dark god Uldr, the dead of night was the perfect time to strike, to Tharoth's advantage it made trying to find the culprit of the murder almost nigh impossible due to the changing behaviour of the city, alas it was day time and he would have to wait for the cover of nights embrace till he could strike again. Deceptively hobbling down the cobbled path, leading those around him to think he was frail, Tharoth noticed someone quickly dart past him, he could smell a path of anxiety that trailed through the alley ways leading straight to the man. Tharoth rubbed his filthy beard with his skeletal looking hand and smiled, his rotting, yellow-black teeth chinked together as he started to grit his teeth, his yellow soul-stealing eyes that unnerved all that came into contact with them stared towards the running mans direction. Using his scythe to lever himself onward, Tharoth made out after the man, out of curiosity or murderous intent, he himself didn't know, yet he limbed onward, still with the charade of brittleness and dependency. Finally he found the man, the man who he so desired to see, for the reason was still unclear but Tharoth could sense a that this ones fate was undetermined. Continuing to walk slowly up towards the man, Tharoth tried to mingle unnoticed in amongst the crowd of people that made their ways to what ever destination they needed, this was harder than expected as the people tried not to cross paths with this dirty, disgusting spectre of death. Elusively, Tharoth positioned himself next to a tree, with both hands on his scythe propelling himself upward, Tharoth inspected the man, noticing that he was engaged in conversation with one of the ape-like Jamoura. The wind began to blow, causing ripples in the filthy material that made up Tharoth's robe, the hood of his robe just covered his evil eyes as he starred menacingly, his beard and hair, clattered like a wind chime of pain as the tiny bones and skulls collided against one another, he smiled once again showing off his rotting teeth. He decided what his purpose was to be made of this man and if fate decided it, his newly aquired Jamoura friend. The disturbing gaze of death its self, continued to watch. Ever scheming, ever plotting.

[Royjeck]

Royjeck could only offer a slow steady shaking of his head, a silent disapproval for the foreigner wandering the streets of Alvadas. This man was childlike in his head, yet grown in his physical appearance. The thing was, Royjeck had seen plenty of that, and the opposite. Nuits, ages older than even he was, but mere child in appearance (taking the bodies of dead was eerie enough, but to possess the body of a child...), and others that were simpletons, insipid, ignorant, and so on. Perhaps this person was of the latter category. People though, they were illusions in their own ways. More interesting than even Alvadas was. Why, Sasin didn't even notice Royjeck was a Jamoura until he looked at him. Sight was an illusion (or so Royjeck might argue some days) because it painted pictures your mind saw differently (until said sight was made of course). A yelp, cowardice? Shock? Fear? Who knows, Sasin was interesting, even if foolish. "Interesting, perhaps. They lose novelty after years amongst them however. People, on the other hand, they hold visages unique to their own, and often enough, multiple of them. They are illusions, more than whatever image Ionu has given you." After Sasin thanked Roy for the map (a gift he called it), Royjeck scowled lightly. The map wasn't a gift, not for Sasin. It was only an offering, a temporary exchanging of possession so that Sasin could find his way to where he wanted (or didn't want) to go. "A gift. You assume too much from Roy stranger. Roy is kind, but not an altruist. Such thoughts and actions are unfavorable on his very existence. My knowledge, he can share that. Whether you keep it forever, and cherish it longer is of no consequence to Roy." Royjeck spoke in a "Matter-of-fact" tone accompanied by a confident head nodding. His eyes, however, never left the map, as if he expected Sasin to attempt theft. Such things were normal in other cities, but both normal and abnormal were notorious for being here. Royjeck's eyes snapped from the map in the Dhani's hand as an interesting smell, pungent and strong it was, reached him. He tapped the butt of that large pole on the ground once again as his beady eyes reached out into the city and landed on a man, withered and weary by appearance, lounging by a tree that was sprouting from the cobblestone street, and partially from the brick wall. The man himself was interesting in his own part, but what alarming was the weapon he carried. It was smaller than the pole Royjeck was wielding, but that wasn't meant for combat (or at least, he never meant to use it for combative purposes. Such situations weren't ideal for his existence), but only by a very small amount, and that wicked blade was the issue. Roy felt the hairs on his large back fighting against his larger-than-life-clothing as they tried to raise up in an almost animal-like instinctual caution. But Roy could hold his own illusion too. Fear, there was never a reason to express it, especially when logical response was optional. "That man stares at you with intent my unnamed acquaintance. Roy thinks he desires conversation."

[Nyahna Sasin]

Roy's assessment of Sasin as childlike was actually quite accurate, though he likely did not realize it. After all, by Dhani standards, 95 was really still quite young, and Sasin had never been the most mature of snakes. "Everything loses it's novelty after years, but illusions are harder than most to become accustomed to, I suspect." Of course, he had his moments.

He grinned lightly as the Jamoura reprimanded him. "Of course, of course. I apologize for my assumption. I was simply taken off balance by these illusions, unaccustomed to them as I am. But I will remember this map, and your graciousness, for the rest of my days." He paused here for a second, considering. "In Alvadas." He concluded. It wasn't like the map or knowledge would be much use outside of the city.

Sasin was about to say more when the winds changed, and he smelled the pungent odor of a man who had, it seemed, not washed for several seasons. Turning, his eyes landed on a tall, filthy, emancipated old man. He hissed softly at the sight of yellow eyes staring at him, and he, unlike Roy, had no trouble displaying his unease. There was no fright, not of this elaborately decorated, weak looking human, but some unease at the sight of small bones in his matted beard, of the sharp tool in his hand, of his malicious gaze. This human was almost certainly unstable, if not too much of a threat (he hoped).

He glanced at Roy as he spoke. "Perhaps" He murmured. Louder, he addressed Tharoth. "In some cultures, staring at someone means you want to eat them." (Whether that was true, he had no idea) "I assume that you don't want to eat us though."