Deigning to respond.. (Open)

[Malik]

Spring / 6th / 512 AV The air was thick with the stench of sweat and blood. Reconstruction was a common sight now and it had only been five days since the strange djed storm. Ever since his house had been destroyed by a huge hunk of stone that had broken loose from the fortress's wall, Malik had been forced to scavenge the city for both shelter and food. His philtering lab had been annihilated, he remembered bitterly. The image of crushed vials, precious samples and other valuables being dismissed from existence so easily made his chest tighten with pain. "But all things come to pass.." He muttered. With a roll of his shoulders, the young man felt his spine arch, then finally crack, releasing a wave of relief down his sore body. Sleeping in ditches did him no good. With a hasty glance to the left, a thin flicker of a smile crossed his lips as Malik spotted a sign swinging over a building. "Pig's foot tavern." He uttered. "Beautiful. Absolutely riveting. Brilliant place to start." Turning on his heel he swept his robe tightly around the moderately capable form he was so proud of. The blue fabric of his clothing contrasted oddly against the cobblestone beneath him, as if only accentuating how much he really didn't belong in the dark-tempered city. Malik's face betrayed none of the distaste he felt as he entered the tavern. Sweeping a look around the area, he felt his lower jaw twitch at the idea that he might be a little suspicious looking. Ignoring the potentially dangerous thought, the colorful man took a seat at a nearby bar stool, placing four copper mizas on the counter top and requesting a mug of ale. Drinking.. really wasn't his style but sometimes he enjoyed the taste. Besides who didn't enjoy escaping every once and awhile?

[Lusa]

Lusa had not spent much time in pubs. In fact, the first time she'd ever set foot in one was several days ago, when she had taken shelter right here in the Pig's Foot during that hellish storm. She sighed; the food that her mother had packed for her was running low, and she would have to start either gathering her own victuals or buying meals in taverns like this one. Perhaps she would visit the market tomorrow. If worse came to worse, she could always take her doe form outside of the hot springs and consume some plant life, but she really did prefer cooked food.

These things she pondered as she sipped her water. She had not yet tried mead and had no plans to in the future; it smelled terrible to her sensitive nose. She was distracted from her musings by a rather colorful man that passed her table and sat at the bar. He smelled funny to her, as if he had spent large amounts of time fiddling with medicines or herbs; the smell was faint, likely only detectable to a kelvic such as herself, but it was ingrained into his skin.

He seemed uncomfortable or grouchy. She wondered why, as most people had improved moods upon coming to the tavern, or so she had noticed in her short time in Sunberth. Well, she had been instructed by her mother to 'learn the ways of man,' so she rose from her table to approach.

"Er, hello. Is, ah, something bothering you?" She asked a bit awkwardly.

[Malik]

While the smell of the tavern wasn't any better as it was outside with the construction, Malik was mildly entertained at how much the taste of his drink negated the pungent odor. Studying it he wondered if he could sell it as a form of deodorant. "Er, hello. Is, ah, something bothering you?" Time seemed to slow down for a moment as the man turned and met Lusa's gaze. His sharp blue eyes met her doe-like ones and seemed to penetrate deep, wherever he looked. Parting his lips he began to speak in a calm yet warm manner, his voice like a fine silk being dragged along the threads of a rough carpet. It seemed almost too beautiful to match the environment surrounding the pair. "My inquisitive friend, I'm afraid there is something indeed bothering me.. you can thank these unfortunate storms that seem to be sprouting up everywhere." He paused and closed his mouth at that point, giving a wan smile. Sunberth wasn't known for playing host to trustworthy people.

[Lusa]

Oh! Were you terribly affected? You could be sick! That storm did so many strange things, you never know." By speaking back to her without cursing or cuffing her ear, the man had designated himself as someone to babble to. And Lusa was quite adept at babbling. High intelligence was surely not one of her qualities, but usually she made up for it with sheer eagerness. As a kelvic, it was instinctual for her to please all those around her, and now this man was counted among that number.

She had been a bit surprised at the man's voice; it didn't seem to match his face, though she couldn't pinpoint why. It reminded her of her father's voice, but he had been a leopard kelvic. She briefly entertained the idea that this colorful man might be like her, but he didn't have that smell about him. She wondered if she ought to feel his forehead, like her mother did when Lusa'd caught a fever.

She began to reach her hand towards his face, but thought better of it in the middle of the gesture. Damn! Now she probably looked silly with her hand out in front of her.

[Malik]

Idle conversation was always something that Malik found to be interesting about people. Depending on where you started, and where you wanted to go, you could manipulate a person into doing things they ordinarily wouldn't do. Wonderful things. Horrible things. The man's robe hung around his body like an ornate decoration as he turned to better look at the spritely woman. The curving red marks that encircled his eyes and cheeks began to bend as his smile brightened slowly. He reached out and took her hand when she raised it, completing her action for her. Malik knew of the afflicted in the city. He didn't know what it was causing the travesties, but he understood the dangers. By pressing her hand to his forehead he was ensuring her that he wasn't sick. "You're in no danger with me." He assured her. "Although I must ask you, are you a native to these parts? Most here would do you harm if you approached them in such a nonchalant way." The girl was sort of lucky to catch him as he was. Malik was typically a lot more vibrant than he was at the moment. Something about this young woman seemed to require delicate handling however. She seemed capable of taking care of herself, yet it was an innate desire of the man's, for whatever strange reason he could not truly discover, to treat her well. Perhaps his entire lab being obliterated to smithereens by a large hunk of stone, and leaving him emotionally unstable, had something to do with that.

[Lusa]

"Good thing you're well, I don't know anything about medicines. Mama tried to teach me but if they didn't taste good, I couldn't pay attention. And no, I only arrived in Sunberth on the day of the storm. Lucky me! And, uh, you are being rather nice...perhaps I should be suspicious of you!" As if telling someone you were suspicious of them would do any good. Lusa had arrived in Sunberth just before the storm hit, leaving her parents' den in the forest north of the city. She had never been allowed to venture into the city before, and for good reason. Now that she was two years old however, she was deemed mature enough to make her own life here.

Her hand on his forehead brought her attention to the curious markings on his face. They looked to her like the warning colors of some poisonous animal. She resisted the urge to touch them, to see if they were painted on or a part of his skin, but even she knew such an action would be strange.

"What about you? You look quite a bit more flashy than the other humans in this city.

[Malik]

Malik's look of amusement didn't waver. "Suspicious of me?" He lazily tucked a hand into his robe and pulled out an empty vial, flourishing the object before the girl. "I'll tell you what. If you can collect any rosemary and a small comfrey root someday, seek me out." He winked. "As a sign of good faith I'll make you a salve that will not only make your hair shine like no other, it'll even help your skin take in more moisture. It'll also drive away any sort of mite that may be crawling around in search of a new home thanks to these wicked storms. Best of yet, I'll make it for free." The man studied her figure as she sat there, staring in what appeared to be innocent curiosity. He set down the vial in case she wanted to take it. Who knew if they'd meet again after this. Just in case though she could borrow it. He had plenty more in his kit. Malik turned away and swept his hands around his mug, sipping from the terrible-tasting beverage. Several thoughts were flickering across his mind about the stranger, none of which he was going to share with her. Letting out a nice comfortable sound as he finished the rest of his drink, he set down the empty mug, letting the bartender take it away. "My name is Malik by the way. And I dress the way I do.." He turned and gave a feral grin. "Because I enjoy standing out."

[Wrenmae]

Sky-heavy, Wet-drawn, Sunberth simply exploded with the vibrancy of chaos. Destruction! Misery! Death! Rebirth! So much of the city had bowed under the ponderous heavy-handed might of nature. Delightful, delightful...a marvelous display of primal strength. Today was not a day of celebration, unnamed, unobserved, it simply was and always had been...and yet, somehow, never would be gain. In the year of 512 there would never come a day like today again. The fifth, the Fifth! Let it be marked by the departed souls of restless misery! Let it be cheered by the haggered throats of a thousand homeless vagabonds! Let the blades clash! The Shields clatter! All mankind bows their inferior control to the holder of all the contracts, all the keys. Fate, time, nature, whatever. In any case, none were so merrily dressed in the open streets of Sunberth than Weaver. Rare was it that this fragment held control and he near skipped with glee at the thought of this freedom. The tavern. It rose in his field of vision, open doors to souls a thinking, a though, or ill at ease to think at all. The types were the point, the fun of discovery. The thrill of simply speaking, expressing, being. His first step was met with stares, wary eyes that drank in the cape around his neck, the wide brimmed hat shadowing his features, the silk shirt and pants. Easily he and Malik stood out the most in the bar, the cold sensation of discomfort floating off the residents. Their lives in tatters, shambles, ruins, and the foppery, finery, nonsense colors of glee the two humans wore. It simply defied a cultural norm, even the base of understandable respect. Hate-heavy, red rimmed stares followed the storyteller to the bar where he simply settled between the richly dressed Malik and the somewhat more modest Lusa. "Painted targets, painted targets boyo," he droned with a grin, "No man wears so many colors not looking for an altercation, I say, a matter of violence...especially here in a Kingdom of the Conniving." He ordered nothing from the bartender, only brought a finger along the edge of his hat and tilted it down lower, only his wide grin caught by the light of the inside. "By the look of you, I'd peg you for a dandy...poorly dressed protagonist or a well dressed antagonist." Slapping both hands back on the bar and bringing them forward again, together, clapping, he grinned wider. "Supporting role withheld for now, we shant play supporting role in our own narrative shall we? Shall we? Pray we do not boyo, pray we do not." Taking a deep breath, Weaver strode between the two and turned on his heel, soles of boots clicking against the bar floor. "What's the order of the day then? What plot are we performing?" He held up his hands, curling them into fists before letting them drop, "Adventure? Mystery? Drama?...no, no, you're far too overdressed for drama." He glanced between him and Lusa, a knowing smirk quirking the edge of his face. "...romance?"

[Lusa]

It was safe to say that Lusa was a bit confused. A second, much larger, similarly colorfully dressed man had suddenly situated himself between her and her new buddy. He had begun talking loudly and using words that Lusa was having trouble understanding.

However, that didn't stop her from goggling openly at him. Protagonist? Antagonist? What was he talking about? It wasn't until she processed his last few words, 'adventure, mystery, drama, romance' that she vaguely guessed he was talking about stories. Well, Lusa loved stories. Her father had made stories up for her all the time. But she wasn't fond of romances. She had much preferred the epic adventures, grandiose tales of the struggle between good and evil. She outwardly wrinkled her nose at the silly romance tales her mother had told her.

"I never really liked the love stories.." She said quietly, almost to herself. "Oh but, my manners!" She nearly wailed. She had forgotten her mother's lesson about introducing yourself. Surely they must think her very rude now. "My name is Lusa. But, you can call me whatever you like."

[Malik]

Malik raised an eyebrow and stared evenly at the newcomer. He didn't like his hat. He also didn't like his colors. They reminded him far too much of himself. Leaning back in his bar-stool, the potion's man exhaled calmly. "Romance isn't my thing. Tried it once and ended up causing more hurt than was necessary." His head tilted slightly, a faint smirk picking up on his lips as his body rested against the counter, his feet kicking the chair leg's edge to turn it so he could view his new friend better. Malik wasn't used to meeting new people, especially two new people in one day. "You're a tad rude aren't you, my colorful friend? Had you stumbled upon less civilized people, you could find yourself at a sword's point for attempting to make such assumptions.." Malik allowed himself a moment's pause for the words to sink in before suddenly laughing, his voice cutting through the threatening fervor that normally filled the tavern. "Luckily for you I am not such a person." He offered Wrenmae a spare hand, the skin shockingly pale. "I am Malik. Who be you?"