Completed [Sanity Center] Help Wanted

[Kuvarakh]

3rd day of Summer, 514 Kuvarakh entered the Sanity Center for the first time in a season or more. He'd often made himself useful to poor Serenity Berel, the overworked, under-appreciated clerk in charge of housing and employment...and pretty much everything else of a domestic nature in Alvadas. He had seen the confusion on the faces of newcomers as they left the building, already perplexed to find the scenery radically changed from what it had been when they had entered. Assuming that any prospective new citizens did not find it unnerving to allow a smiling, walking corpse to escort them to their desired locations, he was happy to accommodate them. He'd seen poor Serenity bear the brunt of aggravated citizens, demanding an account of the shifting locations, too many times NOT to feel like sparing her the misery whenever he could. It frequently involved finding an employment site; and these were often on the way to wherever it was HE was going in the course of procuring his OWN needs in his chosen field of Alchemy. And a walk in the ever-changing city of Alvadas was always a balm to the nerves of those who'd gotten used to it. 'Pity the poor soul who hasn't...' he mused to himself sympathetically as he watched yet another pair of baffled folks, looking in every direction, scratching their collective head. This time, however, he had concerns of his own that had become rather pressing. Some time ago, a remote activation had gone slightly wrong and left him with pink hands. This in itself was no great concern. As a Nuit, miscolored hands were not the most likely element of his appearance to cause dismay in public. And he was pretty well known by now, so his rosy extremities were generally looked on with an amiable appreciation for novelty. But they had also, unfortunately, taken on another aspect of the material that had imparted this coloration to his hands. They were "curing", like cement; becoming hard to flex. This was a malady he could deal with for a while. But that time was rapidly ending. Now of course, there would come a time when he'd be in need of a new body anyway. This development was going to accelerate that schedule. He hated being in a "hurry" to get a new body. The last couple of times had been the results of catastrophes. At the rate this "condition" was growing, he figured he had until the end of the season before he'd be unable to use his hands at all. It was time to do something about it. He knew there was an "Odd Job" board of sorts at The Sanity Center, for those seeking and offering temporary employment. He decided to make use of it. He gave Serenity a smile, but also a shake of the head as she gave him a somewhat pleading look indicating a woman that was clearly on the verge of tears over her unsuccessful attempts to find the Gardening Club. He went to the chalkboard and promptly broke the first stick of chalk in his stiffened fingers. He grimaced and picked up a second one more carefully. Finding a clear spot, he wrote: Alchemist seeks enterprising individuals to aid with a variety of odd job needs. Ask for "Kuvarakh" at Wanda's Alchemmia Alchae. It tends to be located in a corner of town where you will find brick buildings and narrow alleys, usually beyond some body of water. Look for steeply sloped roofs and air that is somewhat hazy. He studied what he'd written for a moment, satisfied that he could really give no better directions than that. He replaced the stick of chalk and started to walk out, but decided at the last moment to spare Serenity another confrontation, by offering to escort the woman to the Gardening Club.

[Phobius]

"Oh, nuts." Phobius stood in front of the moss-laden building, staring up at it as though it were a hungry beast preparing to swallow him whole. Three times he'd taken a turn around a corner, the same corner, and three times had that corner led him to a different section of sidewalk. It'd been a test, really, just to make sure that he wasn't losing his mind when he'd walked out of one of the inns earlier, gone down the block, then turned back when he realized that he'd left his scarf behind only to find the building on the complete other side of the street. The famed City of Illusion. It was finally working its mysterious wonders on the boy. Had he been prepared for the confusion, he might not have become as startled as he currently felt. It was as if the streets themselves had turned against him, hellbent on taking hold of his already fragile mind and warping it as much as they liked. Slowly blinking, Phobius hesitated for a moment before walking towards the doors. And the closer he came to it, the more at ease he began to feel; though the building was large and daunting, there was a certain vibe about it that he hadn't noticed, before. This building seemed more...grounded, more stationary. As if it wasn't in on the city's scheme to confuse its inhabitants. "How am I gonna get back to the inn?" Phobius muttered to himself as he went, shouldering himself through the doors. The way back to his temporary home would surely be as confusing as the way from it had been, and if the streets were still changing by the time he left...wherever he was, he'd be hopelessly lost. Maybe the people inside here had a map that he could look at... On his way in, Phobius came to a stop just a few feet away from a notice board that was coated with layers upon layers of fliers, notes, and paper strips of all sizes, asking for all sorts of things. Looking closer, he discovered that a lot of them were about jobs. Jobs, jobs...a nice lady at the inn had told him that he'd need to get a job if he wanted to take care of himself. Otherwise, she'd warned him that he would end up "out on the streets" if he couldn't earn some money, because money was important. Phobius walked over to the board and, a bit cautiously, began to skim it. In particular, he was hoping to find some sort of offer involving animals. Maybe even horsies. It'd be nice to be around Araphos and earn money at the same time. His eyes fell upon a spot in the middle of the board, clearly written in chalk. Phobius squinted. ...Wanda's Alchemmia Alchae? That's a magic shop, isn't it? Oh yeah...I've seen it a few times, before. But it's probably moved by now... ...which would explain the vague directions that whoever had written the ad had provided. All in all, Phobius was curious. A hope the boy harbored was to find a task that he was good at and stick to it; maybe these "odd jobs" would give him the chance that he wanted. Plus, it'd be cool to work in an alchemy shop. Staring at the chalk scribblings, Phobius smiled.

[Aislyn Leavold]

3rd of Summer, 514 AV

OOC NoteAislyn is disguised as Maya via Illusionism gnosis. Maya:

Finally, Aislyn had to go out.
She hadn't been outside in so long, she felt as if she would get a sunburn from simply stepping into the open for five ticks. She didn't hate the outdoors, necessarily, but she didn't like it either. There were people out there. People who might recognize her. Markis might recognize her. She knew he had been looking.

It had been five years, how long could one man hold a grudge? It wasn't as if she'd cut his arm off or anything...
Then again, she had maimed it quite a lot.

Shivering, she remembered what had happened that night, and just what had happened after it. What had happened after was, actually, the reason a tall, lanky, brown-haired woman was going out as a tall, graceful, white-blond girl. Maya, that was what she had called the illusion. She named the illusions she created for no apparent reason other than it made her feel more comfortable taking the identity of someone who was not herself. Sure, the illusions didn't live or breathe, but they were still people... Kind of.

After she had taken the illusion of Maya, Aislyn had made her way to the Sanity Center. She had finally decided to get up and get a job, though it hadn't been out of choice. Her mother had all but forgotten about Lyn, now, as her entire existence was now dedicated to her carvings shop and 'Her Ionu'. Aislyn had to go out and get the food now, and with the money her mother brought in, it was really only enough for one. She had skipped out on dinner for several nights to allow her mother to eat well. She deserved it.

Now, though, it was time for Aislyn to earn her own. She had turned 20 two days before, officially an adult, in her eyes. Sure, she didn't feel any older, but she still felt as if she was inclined to a job now. She had headed to the first place she knew of to offer jobs. The Sanity Center.

Checking her appearance in the mirror, Aislyn was almost surprised at the face that stared back, but she got used to it. It wasn’t an uncommon thing, for Lyn to look in her pocket mirror and be surprised at the face staring back. She put the mirror away, satisfied with her reflection. No one would recognize her. She was safe.

Walking into the sanity center, Aislyn skimmed the incredible amount of papers covering the wall. They were all notices for something or another, one of them had to be a job. Deciding to start over where another person, a flame-haired boy, was looking, Aislyn skimmed the job opportunities.
Guard? Don’t have the killing instinct
Nanny? Not good with children.
Perfumer? Could there be a more female-orientented job?
Aislyn sighed. It seemed there wasn’t much she could do, until her eyes fell upon just the right flyer. Odd jobs.

That was something she could do. An oddball for some odd jobs? Perfect.
Taking out her notebook, Aislyn jotted down the information.

Ask for Kovarak Kularak Kuvarakh at Wanda’s Alchemmia Alchae.

Could there have been a harder thing to spell? Kuvarakh, Alchemmia, Alchae. Lyn was horrible at spelling, yet this was the job she was offered.

Sighing as she finished her notes, Aislyn prepared herself to go to the magic shop. Wanda’s Almchemmia Alchae, that was it. Sloped roofs, hazy air, it couldn’t be too hard to find. Soon, she would have work. At just the perfect job, too.

[Yisanareysin]

3rd of Summer, 514 AV When Rey realized the road he was on was looping back to itself, he was, at first, delighted that seemed to be back to where he had found the Sunken Conundrum just the other day, then immediately after, dismayed, when he realized that this street being here meant the library was probably on the other side of the city. Turning away from the ever looping road, the Dhani wandered, hopelessly lost, until he found himself before a familiar building. The Welcome Center was exactly where Rey had last seen it, which was both a relief and a concern. After all, this was Alvadas, and nothing ever stayed the same here. But here the center was, with the freaky mouth just across the street. He stopped in front of the Welcome Center, considering it. It occurred to him then that he had never actually been inside the welcome center, despite having visited the city before. His interest piqued, Rey slipped into the building, thoughts of the library temporarily chased from his head. Inside, his eyes flickered around, taking in everything from the crowd of what he assumed were visitors, to the rather frazzled looking young woman trying to explain to them that their best bet for finding any place in the city was to just... walk, to a chalk board covered in equal parts with chalk writing and paper fliers. Curious, he stepped closer, studying the words written on a nearby piece of paper. Caravan guards needed, he read slowly, Find Jist at the Cubacious Inn for details A job board, he realized. The idea had some merit. It would be best for Rey to gather up a few more Mizas, especially if he intended to sail back to Syliras any time in the next few years. Reading through a few other notices, Rey sighed softly as he realized none of them particularly suited a drifter like him. He was just about to leave when another notice, written elegantly in chalk, caught his eye. Odd jobs. Well, he supposed it was better than nothing. Pulling his scribblebook out, he carefully copied down the words Kuvarakh, Alchemmia Alchae, brick buildings, narrow alleys, sloped roofs and air hazy. Satisfied, Rey set off, hoping to find this Alchemmia Alchae quickly. What was an alchemist anyways?

[Ranayel Silverleaf]

On her days off, Rana often found her way to the Sanity Center, where she'd help newcomers to the city find their way around and occasionally take odd jobs. Money wasn't something she was short on, but when a job intrigued her, she'd never turn down the money.

That was where she sat on the third day of summer, staring at her fingernails and debating changing their color. She'd learned how to Morph her appearance only a few days ago after watching a man exit an inn and quite literally pull hair out of his scalp-only he didn't remove it. As he pulled on his hair, it lengthened. Intrigued, she'd followed the man back to a private residence, where she'd pleaded with him to teach her. He had.

Since then, she'd practiced a little, but after accidentally losing an eyebrow Rana decided it would be wise to put off magic for a bit.

As she mulled over the possibility of changing the color of her fingernails to better match her outfit and add a splash of color to her otherwise boring hands, an unfamiliar figure entered the Sanity Center.

He went straight to the job board and took a piece of chalk in his hands, which seemed...oddly red. Rana could relate to having tinted skin, and as such she disregarded it in favor of watching to see what he wrote.

A piece of chalk later, his notice was done, and he exited the Sanity Center. Rana got up a few ticks after he'd left and strode over to the board, looking to see what the man had written on the job board. She read his advertisement quietly to herself-though she could speak Common fluently, she wasn't a very fast reader.

"Alchemist seeks enterprising individuals to aid with a variety of odd job needs. Ask for...Kuvarakh? at Wanda's Alch...Alchemmia Alchae. It tends to be located in a corner of town where you will find brick buildings and narrow alleys, usually beyond some body of water. Look for steeply sloped roofs and air that is somewhat hazy."

Enterprising individuals? Odd jobs? This seemed right up Rana's alley.

So the woman strode quickly out of the Sanity Center in search of this Kuvarakh. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long for her to find him.

Thoughts. - "Common." - "Nari." - "Isurian."

[Kuvarakh]

Phobius : Kuvarakh had only arrived back at the shop a few bells after posting his announcement at The Sanity Center when a young man entered, looking for all the world as though he'd give up if he didn't have the right place this time. He was clearly of that race of humans with the tendency to have stark red hair, given the otherwise unnaturally deep shade he was graced with. Kuvarakh could not recall offhand what race it was, but decided it didn't matter. The fellow looked to be still within his second decade, perhaps on the far side of it. 'A bit on the pale side...' the alchemist said to himself, 'Perhaps if he let Syna reach his skin beneath that dark cloak...' It was probably not the kindest characteristic for Kuvarakh to latch on to, but offset by that vividly crimson hair, it was the second-most noticeable thing about him. That and the glass rings on his shirt. "Yes sir? May I help you?" Kuvarakh asked, noticing the puzzled expression on the young man's face. He decided he must be fairly new to the city. "You must be wondering how the interior of the building could be so fully squared-off, when the exterior was rounded like a castle tower, right? Well it's all by the grace of our Lord, Ionu. He doesn't just settle with mixing up locations. Sometimes attics are in the basement. If it makes you feel any better, I had to check twice to be sure I had the right place myself. Now, I am Kuvarakh" he said, extending his pink-shaded hand. It suddenly dawned in him, with some measure of embarrassment, that with such hands, he ought not to be putting too much emphasis on unique shades if hair. "And I hope you were looking for Alchemmia Alchae, for that is what you have found. Now, what can I do for you?" Aislyn : It was only a few short chimes after the young man naming himself 'Phobius' had left that a lovely girl with lively blond hair and bright blue eyes slipped in. Kuvarakh was still struggling with a charcoal stick to put down some figures in a book. His hands were not cooperating. He looked up with an exasperated grin. "Don't worry, it isn't catching." he assured her, holding up a pink hand. "One of the dangers of alchemy, you see. I slipped on the final release of djed, and my hand passed into the ring. As you can probably guess, I was imbuing some color into a few items. I'll give you one guess which color." he chuckled, hoping to bring a smile to the girl's face. She seemed more interested in looking around, much the same as the young man before her had done. That connection made him wonder if she was also here about the notice he'd put up at the Sanity Center."Were you in need of some assistance, dear? Are you new here? It can be overwhelming at first, but you begin to notice tendencies in the patterns of the various layouts our Lord, Ionu, likes to array." He clapped his pink hands, which "clacked" rather sharply. He looked embarrassed, "Oh dear. I'm sorry, I'm still not used to it. In addition to the color, they are beginning to harden like stone. I recently placed a posting at The Sanity Center requesting assistance with certain things. You'd be surprised how much more complicated a simple task can become when you can't flex your fingers properly. I'm going to need someone with some artistic skills to draw the Nuit transference glyphs FOR me before much longer." He made a dismissive wave of his pink hand. "But enough about me. I've dealt with similar difficulties before. What can I do for you?" Yisanareysin : It had been several days since Kuvarakh had posted the request for assistance. He'd worried that the two people that had come that first day were going to be the only help he'd get. Ionu had been particularly difficult with the entrance to Alchemmia Alchae for the last day and a half, making it available only to those who were willing to submerge themselves in the body of water he'd made a note of in his posting at the Sanity Center. From below the surface, the stairway to the door could be seen. But to those who chose not to go for a spontaneous swim, Alchemmia Alchae may just as well have been a windowless, brick extension of the ceramic shop next door. But now, on the 8th day of Summer, customers were in ready supply. It appeared that having no obvious access to their handy alchemy shop had made them more appreciative. There was one though, that seemed more curious than anything else. Kuvarakh began to wonder if this person was even there to place an order. He'd arrived fairly early, his short stature making him both easily overlooked and noteworthy once seen, for his frame was imposing despite its lack of height. His silvery hair and large eyes gave him a somewhat effeminate appearance, but his voice gave Kuvarakh a hint of his nature. Kuvarakh had met one of the snake people a good ten years earlier, and spent the next two or three with him in a village on a shallow bay along the southern coast of the North Suvan Sea, before having the vision on God's Eye Point, which led him to come to Alvadas. The sibilance of the speech was a giveaway to the alchemist, but unlike many others on Mizahar, he was not instinctively afraid of them. Any more than he was of Zith. He'd had crowds of plain old common humans do more hateful things to him than either of those races. And his own race was not exactly the exemplar of character and integrity either. He would wait and see if this individual was, indeed, a Dhani. He already wanted to know what the fellow wanted. He'd certainly earned an audience in having waited so long. Kuvarakh began to wonder though, if his purpose was something he wanted kept quiet. This actually served Kuvarakh well. For if this person was a Dhani, he may be open to a task that had been on Kuvarakh's mind for some time now. When the last remaining customer had finished placing his order, Kuvarakh asked up front, "Are you here about the notice at The Sanity Center? You've certainly been here long enough this morning to have heard everyone call me 'Kuvarakh." Ranayel : The day after Kuvarakh met with the Dhani, Rey, business began to slow to a normal pace, He was glad to be able to spell Wanda on the ring. The counter had been a madhouse for the last couple days, and she had clearly felt the same way, initiating a bosses prerogative to stick him with the customers while she did the fun work. He could hardly blame her. There was something maddening about explaining to one customer how difficult Ionu had made it to find the door to the shop for the last few days, as a way of accounting for them having appeared to have closed, only to have the very next customer ask the same thing... 'Were you guys closed for a few days? I was here four days ago, and...blah, blah, blah...' It seemed, however, that there was at least one person that had been paying enough attention to avoid that pitfall. A small woman, with hair that suggested a similar heritage as the young man that had been the first to answer Kuvarakh's request for assistants. If not for her brown eyes, she may have been his sister. Like Rey, the day before, she waited beyond the point where she would be tended to as a customer. He began to think she too, like Rey the day before, was not here for alchemical services. So when Kuvarakh had a chance to take a turn on the ring, he opted, instead, to offer her a seat. He sat down close by and offered her a smile as well. "If you are here about an order, we can go back to the counter. If you're here about the notice at the Sanity Center, than you've probably already deduced that I am Kuvarakh." he gave her a wry grin. "In either case, one of us is here to be of service. Is there something I can do for you? Or something you can do for me?"

[Aislyn Leavold]

Finally, Aislyn had arrived at the shop. Alchemmia Alchasomething, that was it. It was a nice shop, exactly like the description had said. Brick buildings, narrow alleys, just around a small lake. The air was hazy and the roofs were sloped. Yes, this had to be the place. A wave of excitement at the opportunity washed of Aislyn, she’d never done this before, so, of course, with the excitement came nervousness. What if she messed something up?

Then she could always try again.

She still wore her Maya illusion, with at least a bell left before it would need to be replenished. It had taken a while to find the business, but then again, it always took a while to find anything in this city. Ionu was always moving things around, adding trickery into every twist and turn. Even for his marked. But, with that mark, came quite a bit of power. If she messed everything up here, got rejected, she could always come back as Thief, or, if she was really desperate, Aislyn herself. She had at least three tries to make a good impression. Those were good odds, weren’t they?

Slipping into the shop carefully, Aislyn took a quick look around, always wanting to see what she was going up against. The inside was much like the outside, only with more equipment. Yes, Alchemy was definitely practiced here, even if Lyn couldn’t tell how. She didn’t know much about Alchemy, other than the fact that it made things into other things, which didn’t exactly help much. She knew, though, that it required symbols, chants, all sorts of things. All performed by one person. The man, it seemed.

The man, Kuvarakh, he must have been, was hunching over a book, charcoal in hand. His fingers were coaked in charcoal, though there was barely anything on the page. It seemed he had been having trouble, though Aislyn soon learned why. His hands didn’t quite look like normal hands, quite the opposite, actually. They were almost a bright pink, looking like the circulation had been cut off. It wasn’t exactly the prettiest sight, but it fascinated Aislyn. He wouldn’t be working like that if he had injured himself severely enough to cause that, he would be in too much pain. But if it wasn’t injury, what was it…?

Fortunately, Aislyn didn’t have to wonder long, as Kuvarakh soon explained his hands as alchemy accidents. It made sense, from the color, but she still wondered how long it would take to wear off. Or, if the man would just be stuck with pink hands forever. After the man explained, Lyn smiled softly, happy about how light he was about his hands. He would have been a good target for a prank, with that attitude, though going around playing tricks on your soon-to-be-boss wasn’t the best idea for getting a job.

When the man stopped talking, Lyn returned to looking around, wondering what else he did here, and how. It would be quite interesting to watch, seeing Kuvarakh do whatever alchemists did, maybe even learn a few things. Returning from her thoughts, she realized that the man was talking again, this time about her being new to the city, even going so far as to seemingly question her knowledge of Ionu. Aislyn almost took offense to that, but realized once again that walking around in many different faces had both it’s ups and downs. It was both a good thing and a bad thing when no one recognized you, depending on who they are, and who you are.

”No, no… I’ve been here all my life. I know of Ionu’s tricks…” She contemplated telling the man of her mark, but decided against it. Not until it’s necessary. ”I’m just here about the sanity center post-”

Abruptly, she was cut off by the man trying to do what seemed like clapping, though it was more clacking then clapping, really. Surprised, Lyn took another look at his hands. It seemed they were much more than dyed. That was probably why it looked like the circulation was cut off. Strange, if they had only been dyed…

The man just as soon explained her thoughts before she did any real thinking, though. Stone hands didn’t sound fun, he should probably see some sort of doctor about that, or, if possible, being an alchemist, fix it himself. Shrugging, Aislyn opened her mouth to reply, but something he had said caught her attention. Nuit transference glyphs? She didn’t know much of the race, but she did know that they were pretty much animated dead bodies. They had to refresh their bodies every once in a while, or else they died. It wasn’t much of a death, though, as it seemed nuits were already dead. The whole race fascinated her, even though they were practically as feared as Zith.

Luckily, she got her chance to convince Kuvarakh to hire her when he mentioned drawing the glyphs again. Aislyn could draw them for him, couldn’t she? She had some artistic skill, albeit not much.
”Well, if your hands get much worse, I’m sure I could help draw the runes… Glyphs, I mean.”
She was going to have to learn more about this whole alchemy thing. She really wanted the job, especially after the prospect of meeting a real life nuit, should Kuvarakh be serving on in his store. As the man asked her about herself, Lyn preparedly began her explanation of why she wanted the job.

”Well… I saw your sanity center post, and since I’ve been wanting a job for a while now…” That was a lie, unless a while counted as about four days. ”...I thought odd jobs would be the perfect thing for me to do. I’m sure I could help you in some way, I promise I have many…” Faces. ”...Talents.”

[Yisanareysin]

In the end, it took Rey nearly a week to find this elusive Alchemmia Alchae. Unfortunately, shortly after leaving the Sanity Center he had gotten slightly distracted by the reappearance of the Sunken Conundrum. Perhaps it would be best not to mention how easily he was distracted to this Kuvarakh. It had only been through luck, and his sense that he had finally stumbled upon the shop. It was, Rey thought, a rather unimpressive looking shop, but it made his ears hum with magic, and the sign confirmed that he was in the right place. So, Rey slipped inside, nearly bumping into a man exiting with... a sheet of metal? "Ssorry." He said automatically, his accent slipping in his puzzlement. Glancing around the rest of the shop he found it rather sparse, just as the outside had been. A rather tired looking human with a mop of brown hair was behind the counter, talking to a rather excited woman who was describing...something. Since it was rather doubtful that this man was "Wanda" (although who really knew, with humans), it seemed likely that this one was Kuvarakh then. A few moments of listening to their conversation confirmed that, and one other thing he had suspected after reading the notice: Kuvarakh was as verbose as any Eypharian. The thought made Rey grin. As he continued to study the man who, hopefully, would be employing him by the end of the day, Rey noticed something odd. The man's hands had a strangely pink tint to them. That itself would have been strange enough, but there was also something else odd about them that he couldn't quite place. Glancing around, he saw there were still a few customers around. He had time. Leaning casually against the wall, Rey took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused. When he opened them again, his eyes were filled with hazy shapes. He had read somewhere that most Aurists had to see to sense. Most Aurists were human. He could see the aura's of the people around the shop, and the aura of something large in a back room, but nothing else. Breathing in, Rey sensed, his tongue flicking out briefly out of habit. There was the smell of humanness, the smell of magic, of life, and... Rey paused. He took in another breath, sure he had sensed wrong, but no. There, among all the other scents. Death. Where? He focused on the scent, discarding the others, and his ears hummed, pinpointing the source of the scent. There. Kuvarakh. Ignoring the others, Rey focused intently on the definitely still animate Kuvarakh. The scent of death was strong, but there was little smell of decay. The body was cold, and nothing beat in it's chest, but he could taste the creature's feelings, the ever changing palate of emotions. Whatever this was, it was sentient. Rey slumped against the wall as he released his sense, suddenly aware of how much it had taken out of him to go that deep, but he barely cared. What was this, this dead thing that walked still? It felt and thought and wrote and spoke... spoke at Rey. The Dhani blinked, then grinned sheepishly. They were alone in the shop, it seemed. He'd been too caught up in Kuvarakh to notice. "Ah, yess." He said, then grimaced, catching his slip that time. Not that he had to worry much, he supposed. It seemed doubtful a corpse, of all things, would judge a snake. "I couldn't find this place for a few days," he continued "but Ionu likes me today, I think. My name is Reysin." He paused, considering. "Reysin Ekans." If the creature was clever, and Rey was certain it was, it might very well be able to deduce what Rey himself was from that, and hopefully bring up the topic of race. A risky move, perhaps, but Rey was dying to know just what Kuvarakh was. Hopefully the process of finding out wouldn't actually involve dying. He liked his body, thank you very much.

[Phobius]

Alchemmia Alchae, Alchemmia Alchae...brick buildings, sloped roofs, hazy air... A few chimes in, Phobius found himself wishing that the man who had written the advertisement had taken it upon himself to make a doodle of the place, too. It'd have been a lot easier to tackle the task of finding the place if he had a picture to work off of; word descriptions always tended to make the boy even more lost. Then again, that probably came from how he had decided to deal with the description in the first place. Alvadas' many streets and sidewalks were alive, in his head, and intent on toying with him as they switched and swapped every so often, making him feel as though he was going in circles when he really wasn't or leading him past the same alleyway twice. What was worse was that a lot of the buildings seemed to look like the others, with only a sign or distinct flower pot to differentiate them from their neighbors. 'How do people find their own homes when they go out to buy food and come back...?' To lessen the pressure on his ailing brain, Phobius concocted a plan of attack for tracking down the alchemy—what was alchemy, anyway?—shop. It seemed foolproof in his head. First, he'd find as many brick buildings as he could, and make sure that they were near each other. Then he'd make sure that the air around them was hazy, and if it wasn't he'd move onto the next brick cluster. Once those two were out of the way, he'd focus on all of the buildings that had sloped roofs. Only a few chimes after his "plan" had he begun to feel hopelessly lost. A few chimes after that, and a strong fear seeped into his brain, bringing tears to his eyes. 'I'm lost...I'll be lost forever! I'll never find the store and the city will eat me up and...and...' Wandering, now, Phobius turned a corner and headed into a nearby alleyway, the hood over his head obscuring his tear-blurred eyes from view. That was when he stopped by a plain-looking building, with fogged windows and a single, worn, wooden sign. Wanda's Alchemmia Alchea...? The magic store...he'd found it! At last! A bright smile making its way onto his face, Phobius let himself inside and was greeted by a comforting smell of aging paper. Books, books, there were books everywhere! Err, confined to a few shelves, at least, but they were more books than he'd ever seen before in his life. He went over to the shelves, scanning each and every title and getting up on his toes when he needed the extra leverage. Then a voice reached his ears "Yes sir? May I help you?" Phobius turned around quickly, the brief look on his face that of a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then it faded, and curiosity brought him over to where the middle-aged man was. The boy titled his head once he'd drawn closer, noting the funny look of the man's skin. He wasn't that old but looked a little older than Phobius assumed he was, and he couldn't figure out why. Exterior of the...castle...what? No, those hadn't even crossed his mind. Mostly, the boy had been wondering what would happen if the city managed to make him completely lost. The man extended a pink, fleshy hand, and Phobius stared at it for all of two seconds before giving it a hearty shake. Kuvarakh, Kuvarakh, why did that name ring a bell...? Oh. Oh, that was right. The ad. "I saw your ad at the Sanity Center," Phobius said. "So yup, I'm happy that this is the right place. It took forever to get here, too...I was...kinda thinking that, y'know, since it's a magic shop, it would look more...magic-y. Colorful. ..Oh! Sorry, sorry, right. The ad-thingy. Some nice lady at the inn I was staying at told me that I should find a job, so I was hoping that you could give me one...?" He suddenly looked nervous, a hand absentmindedly drifting up to his throat to pull at the woolen scarf. After some thought, Phobius pulled his hood down and rubbed furiously at his eyes to get rid of any remnants of tears. "I-I can do all sorts of things. Whatever you'd need me to do. Even...even if I don't know how to do it, I can learn."

[Kuvarakh]

Phobius : Kuvarakh studied the fiery-haired young man before him. Eager, nervous, an air of desperation, but tempered by confidence. "We ALL can learn, given the chance. In fact, right now, I would like very much to simply learn your name, sir." It was hard for Kuvarakh to tell if 'Phobius', as he named himself, was embarrassed by this social oversight, or if it was just a reflection from his hair. "The question is, how much effort are you willing to put into a duty that your every word suggests is far from being something you have any experience with." The kid sagged just a bit and Kuvarakh hurried to downplay any apprehension he may have implied. "Don't get me wrong. What I have in mind is not complicated...in theory...But it is probably one of the most difficult and under-appreciated vocations in this city. I am speaking of 'messenger'...or 'courier'." He started to pace a bit, making his way by the window and stopping to look out as he did. "This is not to say you will be unique, by any means. Many of the more influential people in Alvadas have personal servants to see to these things." He turned back to Phobius, "And perhaps it is my ego seeking to carry me up a step in my own estimation. But nonetheless, I DO need someone to carry messages and small loads of goods for me." Kuvarakh wondered suddenly if the words "personal servant" may have added a stigma of being some sort of lower-class citizen to the job. "I hope this doesn't strike you as a demeaning request. This is a service that has been in desperate need here for a long time. Given time, you may even find the approach to make it a business of your own. And if you accept, there is the added bonus that you WILL learn how to get around in this town. I can attest to the fact that it gets easier and easier all the time. What do you think?" Aislyn : Kuvarakh did a slight double-take. "ARE you an artist, dear? Well that's a fair coincidence. Almost enough to restore my faith in Ionu's willingness to do something straightforward now and then." he grinned and motioned for her to stay put as he went in the back room where the alchemy transmutation ring was. He got a piece of paper from a cabinet there and brought it to her. It had a series of glyphs on it. They were fairly intricate. "Do you think you could copy these onto flesh?" He anticipated a skeptical look from the woman and was not disappointed. "I don't know if you know much about Nuits, but these are the glyphs of transference. It's strange that I know them because other than these, I don't know any glyphing. I think it's something borne of some sort of mystical memory that's part and parcel of being a Nuit." He began listing the bodily locations of each and every one. One on the forehead, one on each hand, each shoulder, the same with the legs, several spots on the torso as well. "I have them designated as to which location corresponds to which glyph. This is the first time I've been truly worried that I would not be able to put them down an the receiving body." He watched her as he continued. "I have had disastrous damage done to me, enough to surely kill me, even as a Nuit. But it never hindered my actual ability to scribe these symbols. If I had died from loss of Ichor, that would have simply been it. But this time, I'm finding myself facing the possibility of the slow rot death. Frankly, that terrifies me." He realized he was possibly getting too "heavy" with such talk. Besides he needed to actually GET a body to transfer to before this would have any pertinence. "But this is all for another time. Right now, I actually was wondering if you felt like accompanying me to a "haunted house. It could use some artistic flair. I think that would make it happy, and even with perfectly functioning hands, I am no artist." He half expected her to look at him as if his brain was no more functional than his hands. She seemed the more down-to-earth sort. He had been prepared to offer Phobius the same sort of job, if he had any artistic inclination. But the redhead had seemed beset by anxiety already. Kuvarakh thought there could be some negative repercussions if he brought him to the mansion. At least, not until he calmed down somewhat. This woman seemed quite calm already. Yisanareysin : Kuvarakh sighed resignedly, "Yes, we had some difficulty with our front door being submerged in a random lake for a few days. Ionu likes us ALL, it seems." he chuckled. The silver-haired gentleman offered his name and Kuvarakh paused for a moment, thinking through the pattern of letters. He allowed just a bit of a frown at the reverse order or 'Reysin'. It gave no clue. "Ekans', you say. Well that turns around to spell 'snake', though I see no similar anagram hidden in 'Reysin', though I suppose it depends on how it's spelled." He was ready to assure the man before him that he had no prejudices towards Dhanis, but it appeared that it was not a concern to Mr. Ekans, either. "If, as I suspect, you are of the notable Dhani race, it may interest you to know that I spent quite some time with one of you a few years ago, one 'Licearsvansan'. I could understand why he wished to keep it secret, so I can assure you I will not be volunteering this to anyone else. I myself have found reactions to MY race a bit on the hostile side at times. I'm sure you have noticed a few oddities about me, now that you can look up close." Kuvarakh smiled and offered that perhaps he should change his own name to "Tiun", admitting quickly thereafter that it was a rather poor attempt at humor. He took a look to be sure that Wanda was still in the midst of an activation. He came around the counter and locked the front door, noting how Mr. Ekans eyes narrowed at this development. "I have a proposition for you. As you can see by my hands, this body is on the downside of its term of service to me. If you came seeking a job from me, I have one for you. It will be dangerous, for it is in the Underground. I admit, I have yet to retain the service of anyone that knows their way around there, but this is the first time I have had need of such knowledge. I have no doubt I will locate such a person easily enough. But I need to settle THIS agreement first." He grimaced slightly at the hint of unintended insult. "Now, It's not that I consider Dhani to be some savage, unrepentantly violent race; any more than I consider it fair for people to think ALL Nuits go around murdering folk any time our current body starts to get "run down. There are always going to be those that cast a shadow of ill-repute on their race. I have never inhabited a body that was alive the first time I saw it. Some folks think of me as some sort of human vulture, and I suppose I can see their point. I temper this judgement on the basis that I have nothing against vultures! What matter what becomes of dead flesh once the soul has fled? I use my extended life span for good causes. No, I simply have found the Dhani to be a race the prefers action to discussion." He paused and took a breath. As a Nuit, he didn't need to breath to live, but he needed to in order to speak. "I have become aware of a young woman that has likely been kidnapped, and will be sold into slavery if she is not rescued. her friend escaped these men and informed me of this recently. The way in which this affects ME is that I need a new body soon, the man or men holding this girl are certainly men worthy of death as kidnappers and slavers, and a body killed by poison..." he paused to clack his teeth together "...is among the best kind for a Nuit." He straightened up and looked Mr. Ekans directly in the eyes,hoping he had spelled out the nature of his "job" sufficiently. "I say again, I am no murderer, but I have no qualms about being an executioner. I will pay well for the girl's rescue...I will pay better for the body of one of these criminals." Ranayel : Rana, there is no real hurry for you to post here, but I wanted to get everyone else' responses down. I will need to get this done for the "rescue" thread in the Underground. But I suppose that could go ahead and be started.