PM to join Little Lion Man (Tink)

[Victus]

25th Day of Fall, 514AV 14th Bell The Seaside Market It was so... happy. Or at least it seemed that way to the slave. The feathered creature bounced around its cage like it was having the time of its life, even though it was trapped behind the filigree bars. In every direction it chirped and warbled, tiny taloned feet grasping at the bars, strange hinged head twisting this way and that. The slave leaned closer and marveled at the downy feathers, the smooth, plump body and those tiny, curious eyes- "Victus?!" The barked, irritable word was enough to snap the slave's head around from the row of cages and back to Johnny's scowling face. He caught up with him and joined his master at his side, their motley group continuing into the Market. Tall Johnny shook his head and cursed his slave, luck, the day, the season and this petching city, in that order. Usually he didn't take Victus with him on business beyond the Casino, but... well, the last three were the problem. Sunberth was always gnawing away at itself, endless little gang wars and intercine underworld conflicts resulting in bodies floating out to sea or cluttering the gutters with every dawn. But this season seemed to be worse than usual: gnawing had become what seemed like an attempt at full-scale devouring. The reborn Daggerhands were forcibly recruiting and going on their old killing sprees, determined to restore their reputation. A clutch of Dhani was reportedly running rampant, and whatever deaths they were causing were a pale shadow compared to the chaos the hunt for them led to. It all meant for a more... hostile working environment, and Johnny traveled with a decent squad of bodyguards these days... ... or he would have, if his regular men weren't either working for the warring gangs, sick with flu or simply vanished. That was the problem, when a marketplace previously dominated by an oligarchy suddenly became fragmented: efficiency went to petching shyke. So Victus had to come with him. Of course, that was hardly a bad thing. Six-and-a-half-feet of barechested muscle, covered in faded scars, known to many as a brutal cage fighter? You could certainly have worse bodyguards. But that wasn't his usual pace; knowing when to shut up (well, fine, that was never his problem) and look for the less obvious threats. When Victus had to fight, his enemy was in front of him, armed, armored and ready to brawl. But an assassin on the streets, in the shadows? Johnny doubted he even knew what to look for. Which is probably why- "You wait here, Victus." The slave looked to his master and frowned in silent inquiry. He noted they'd finally stopped at a storefront just at the edge of the Market; more established than the carts and stalls, it was in a building, with neat lettering in a crescent over the window. MORIARTY LOANS AND PAWN "Now, you remember what we said?" Victus nodded, but when his master did not leave, he realized he was expecting him to repeat the orders so vigorously spelled out back at the Casino. He spoke in his usual slow, bass rumble, lips hardly seeming to move, as if speech was alien and uncomfortable to him. "Watch the street. Listen at the door. If I see trouble outside, or hear it inside, I come in and stay by your side." "And?" "And I don't talk to anyone or move from the door." "And?" "And no-one comes in." "Think you can deal with all that, boy?" A firm nod, reinforced with his hand unconsciously gripping the hilt of the gladius at his waist. Johnny noticed the gesture, and nodded back. He didn't need Victus to be subtle, after all. He wanted to remain undisturbed while he talked some sense into the owner of the store, and got what was owed to him. One way or another. "Good." Another of his minders opened the door and he trooped in with them, leaving Victus alone on the turbulent street. The tall man kept a hand on his gladius, feeling... more reassurance there than concern for his appearance. He'd forgotten how chaotic it could be. The faces and bodies and smells so close to him, without the bars to keep them away. Someone tried to come in. Victus looked at him (or, rather, down at him), and shook his head. The fellow gulped and decided he'd peruse the fruit stand for a little longer. On the other side of the street. Then the cage fighter frowned. He heard something... scratching... down- -at his side. He looked down... and wide, unblinking eyes stared back up at him. One would assume from his appearance that few things could frighten Victus. His height, his build, the aura of menace and stoic intimidation he threw out be instinct, all of it contributed to someone people expected to weather anything. But the fac was, fierce and skilled in combat as he was, he was still quite a sheltered man, in his way. And he'd never met a Pycon. Victus cursed unintelligibly and lurched to the side of the doorway, drawing his gladius half out its sheath, wide eyes fixed on the little clay figure. "What... are you?!"

[Tink Scalpellion]

[size=100]Tink was strolling over to the loan market with the hopes of getting some Mizas to open up his business as a doctor. It seemed that most people didn't trust a clay man who was the size of their hand. On a good day. Most of the time, They dismissed Tink right at the door. He didn't even make it back to see the main man. On one occasion, Tink got swatted with a broom. That was a humbling experience. Today,Tink had new hopes,new dreams,and no mizas, Still. Walking up to the door of Moriarty's loans,Tink saw a man apparently standing and watching for anyone. This will be fun. Probably the first time that I don't even make it past the door. Petch it. Why can't these old mizers see past my appearance and give me a loan? I guess I'll try GoldFinger's next. Can't hurt to try. You know dad always said, "Never Give Up. Despite our weaknesses, we Pycons are stubborn little creatures! Show people that with your actions!" Tink was determined to live up to both his and his father's standards. Time to get a loan. After giving himself this pep-talk, Tink was surprised when the man said, "What are you" wih a look of wonder in his eyes. Replying, Tink said, "I'm a Pycon. Names Scalpellion. Tink Scalpellion and I would be happy if you let me past!"

/size]

[Victus]

Victus managed to get his teeth back together a few ticks later, slack jaw mastered and grip on his weapons somewhat relaxed. To hear Common - irritated and indignant Common, true, but still his own language - issue forth from that tiny mouth seemed to calm him, as if despite their vast differences, there was some neutral ground they could both hold. Well, perhaps not quite that far. "You can't go in." The gladiator-cum-bodyguard didn't feel any need to elaborate further; it hadn't been among his schooling, after all, the polite way to talk to strangers. His master had given him clear orders, and nowhere did it include little things like giving reasons, offering apologies or- -not planting his foot squarely in the path of little man made of... "... clay?" He realized a little late that he'd spoken. Too long had he spent peering down at the small, determined figure, squinting until... petch it, he had to get closer. Victus crouched down and let go of his gladius, wolfish eyes quickly flickering over the street one last time before settling on that rough face laid into that formless, inhuman substance. "I have not met a Pike Un before."

[Tink Scalpellion]

Not again. Seriously, not again. What the shyke. Had anyone seen a Pycon? It wasnt like they were elusive creaturs. Petch it; they were only four inches tall. Adding insult to injury,the man wouldn't let him pass. This was not going to be a good day for him. Oh no. Tink was not going to back-down. Hewas going to get in there. One way or another. Even if it required force. "He is expecting me. Let me pass and I might let you live, slave. Yes,your master has told me all about you. And his other servants, of course. I will say it once again. Let me pass, servant!" Maybe this lie will work. That man is not going to make me stay back here, outside . I'm going to get in there, even if it takes force. Not really. I don't stand a chance against that man. Lookat him. Those muscles, He is armed with so many weapons. I would be dead in an instant. I really hope this whole lieing idea works. If it doesn't then I guess I'l just go back home.

[Victus]

Victus only knew two ways to deal with threats: subservience and violence. Either his master was issuing them (or one of his minions), and the slave was in no position to argue... or it was someone else, taking in the vast blanket of all living creatures, and when the threat was voiced, suddenly that person became one. And Victus made it so that they could never threaten him again. But this Pike Un... he couldn't help his lips quirk just a touch when the bold and blustery little creature thundered its ultimatum. He frowned when he mentioned his master, and thought for a moment Tall Johnny had decided to- Ah. Victus' head cocked to one side. He'd never mentioned his master, and this was Moriarty's store. So the cunning little man had made two mistakes: assuming Victus belonged to the pawnbroker, and then crafting a lie around it. And yet... he didn't just squash him underfoot for the offence. Tink glared up at him with his jaw set and hands on his hips, not allowing ever a glimmer of fear to mar his face. Victus had seen courage before; bravery in the cage, even if it was in the service of naught but coin and bloodlust. He respected it... but this was courage in the face of what must have seemed like a walking mountain to the tiny clay man. So, instead he decided to be... restrained. "You lie badly..." He said as he crouched down, right arm jerking out to reach down... ... aiming to pick Tink up by the nape of his neck, then holding him up as he straightened to his full height. Once he got the little clay man to stop struggling - and he assumed Tink would do just that - he would unsheath his gladius... the blade of which alone was about five times longer than Tink - and let the Pycon see his reflection in the gleaming blade. "... and I said before: you can't go in yet. When the door opens again, you can. But not now." A quick burst of raised, gabbled voices would bubble over from behind the door just after he spoke, and Victus would from slightly. That sounded... angry. But there were no accompanying shouts or bangs or crashes, so for now he kept his station and would wait for the hoisted Pycon to make his decision.