PM to join Uncivilized Attire (Orabelle)

[Wikus]

30th - Winter- 515 AV

11th Bell

“Tell us, freak! Do you think you can just leech from our city and taint its beauty?” Spoke the taller Akalak as his hands shook Wikus harshly. His fury grew every tick he stared into the silent yet clearly annoyed human, whom offered no resistance to the Akalak nor gave any excuses. “I ask you for the last time – Are you a Kuvan or not? Answer me!” The conflict had claimed the interest of many of the people running with the crowds, some staying to observe while others muttered their dislike of the stranger whom was interrogated. The major detail of their interest was the fact that said stranger was clearly not properly dressed for the winter season. Wikus’ attire consisted of some harem pants that reeked, and a white shirt with short sleeves that was wide open. His feet were bare as usual, flesh exposed to the harshness of the ice layer that had coated the stone ground. Perhaps it would have been somewhat manly at the beginning of winter, yet it was obvious by now that the man either couldn’t afford clothes or simply didn’t notice how violently his body shook in the cold.

It was only a matter of time before someone called him out. The Militia were fanatics obsessed with keeping their city’s good standard afloat, and witnessing how a stranger lacked appropriate clothing for the harsh season was a direct insult to the ambient of prosperity the city had earned throughout the years. The two Akalaks wouldn’t simply leave without their query answered, and were hoping to reach the bottom of this issue. Wikus, on the other hand, was careless about these men and their intentions. He was ignorant that visitors were able to stay only for a season, and if they found out this was his second season between the walls he was to be kicked like a stray dog. His tactic was to simply receive the abuse dealt by the Akalaks and hope they lost their interest, which was not happening no matter how much he waited. His view of this colored race was only decreasing.

The shorter Akalak, very similar in features to its taller counterpart, stepped forward and wrapped his fist on Wikus’ shirt. “You know what we’ll do? We’ll find out where you live, take all your possessions, and toss them in the river before we kick you out, parasite. Riverfall is no place for poor men like you.” Wikus’ back was already against a stone wall, still quiet and still offering a defying and somewhat uninterested stare back to the pair. Fully aware that his strategy of being still had failed, finally he changed plans. Reaching down at his improvised belt, which was his whip of course, he retrieved a small leather pouch full of coins. The Akalaks backed out, slightly, finally witnessing some actions in the passive man and curiously following his hands. Wikus opened the pouch and dropped some coins into his hands, showing them to the Akalaks to convince them of their authenticity before returning them from the place they came from. Lastly and as casually as he could, he handed the bag towards them in an attempt to bribe them.

Wikus didn’t have much use for money. It couldn’t buy anything useful, and he could hunt his own food. Handing them to the Akalaks in order to feed their greed instead of their fury against him was by far the most use he could get out of them. The Akalaks however found a different use to the coin. The tall one slapped the pouch away from his face and splattered all the different colored coins across the street, as instead of taking the bribe they’d rather beat the men. “A bribe!? I’ll put an end to you, Vagik!” It wouldn’t be the first time some Akalaks offered a beating as a welcome or a farewell to other male visitors, and so nobody would question them as to why they did it. It was natural in this city, which they demonstrated by acting like a tag team against the former Drykas.

The short one harshly grabbed the man and moved on his back, where his arms locked below Wikus’, thus incapacitating any attempts of defense the male could have. The tall one on the contrary stretched his arms with haste before harshly shoving his right fist on Wikus’ stomach, following with a replica with his left one. Wikus, caught by surprise, could do nothing but gasp out the air of his lungs and groaning in pain. The hits were directed towards his body, at first. As they kept coming, some started to target the bearded man’s features, while the victim tried to stir away from both of them and raising his feet in attempts of shoving the attacker away. His attempts were mostly fruitless, until he channeled the ink of his body towards his mouth and began spitting the black ink into the Akalak’s face. “You’ll pay for that, Venhrehk!”

834 / 50000

[Orabelle Deepseeker]

She had that dream again. Orabelle saw her baby boy's face, flushed of its color. Even now, she was awake and yet she could still see him. Why couldn't she forget him? She did not expect it to be this hard. Orabelle believed she would cry for many days and feel no other emotion but sadness for a while- maybe just a season. She was all wrong though. Orabelle had come to realize that she would never forget the child she had lost. The nakivak would always remember his face, the color of his skin and the last breath of air he had taken before he had passed. He would move on, leaving her before it was his time and she could not accept this. She would never accept his death. How could she? After carrying a child for so long? Orabelle had been carrying the baby Akalak for almost an entire year. The two had a strong bond, which she felt would be even stronger once he was born. Despite her nakivak status, she knew her talvis would allow her to pitch in and help raise the boy. She had imagine the child would grow really close to her as he grew, identifying her as his mother and protector.


Orabelle got herself out of bed. Once again, she would need to take her mind off such a dream. She would need to get out and do something productive. Many festivals were coming, she could possibly find clothes or gifts for that. Yes, that is exactly what she will do. She could find an outfit for the masquerade, which was not for many, many days but dresses would sell out fast when the holiday would finally come. There was also giftday. Chela had been eyeing a few things, not saying very much about what she wanted to her aunt and Orabelle would like to surprise her. "Chela, I will be gone for a bit. Are you okay here by yourself?' Orabelle was fully dressed now. She wore a a simple blue dress. Her hair was pulled out of her face too and makeup was caked on her face.


Chela nodded. The young girl was such a simple child, Orabelle never had to worry about her. She could take care of herself too, Chela stopped relying on Orabelle a while ago. "Good, I love you and I will see you soon." Orabelle kissed the girl on her forehead before leaving her comfortable small casinor. Finally, she would leave.


The past couple of days, Orabelle had done nothing but wander into different shops and speak to some of Riverfall's locals. Some she saw now as she walked down a busy street. The locals noticed her before she noticed them. She stopped to have a conversation with these people. She did not keep track of how much time she spent talking to people. It might had been quite some time though since Orabelle was the type of person who could hold a conversation. The woman could talk about absolutely anything, really. She just loved to talk. Orabelle talked so much that she did not notice the crowd forming around her. Not until the crowd started screaming in agreement with something or someone. The people hollered and shook their fist in the air and it this scared Orabelle. She was becoming concerned now, pushing through the crowd to see what all the fuss was about.


She pushed through the crowd and only to find the large Akalak men she came to love bullying a man. The man's clothes seemed to be the issue. The Akalaks did not like his clothes. She had to admit, the man's clothes were filthy. Not to mention, unfit for such weather conditions. Also, the man did not understand what was going on and Orabelle could see that. She wondered if the Akalaks saw this too and used it to their advantage. They could make this entire situation appear to be the man's fault. Which is what these men did. If the outsider was dressed appropriate, the Akalak would not have to approach him. If the outsider spoke tukant, communication would be much easier. Riverfall was in the colorful men's favor and not the poorly dressed man.


The Akalaks could do anything to him. One locked his arms behind his back while the other began beating on him. "Stop! Please stop!" Orabelle couldn't watch this anymore. Before she knew it, Orabelle was between the Akalak and the poorly dressed man. "You do not have to do this. Can't you see he doesn't understand?"

[Wikus]

The sudden interruption of the female halted the flurry of hits the Akalak was delivering into the human’s gut. This gave Wikus a chance to let his head hang as he panted and moaned from the pain, each of those rock-hard fists having interrupted his breathing. The Akalak, although somewhat angered and still eager to continue with the beating, eventually saw reason as he looked around. Many of the beings of the crowd were males whom clearly applauded their actions, and even some of the females seemed to display some expressions of approval. However, there was also a minority whom clearly didn’t seem to share that joy or approval, and including the female before him it was time to call off the routine. Offering the human a cold and somewhat menacing last glance, he would hypocritically look at the female with eyes filled with fake shame, offering a bow before he signaled for his companion to leave the man alone.

Many of the individuals of the crowd displayed disappointed in their antics, and one by one began returning to their routines or their loitering. Wikus, free from the grasp of the Akalak, fell on his knees and coughed between pants. It took him half a chime to regain his strength, or part of it, before he slowly looked up to his unexpected savior. He wasn’t used to any kind of pity, much less from a woman in a place so far away from home. Gazing into the female’s features, the soft skin and smooth curves of her facial structure offered some kind of strange reassurance. This pity he had received wasn’t repulsing or a fuel for his own impotency in this matter, but instead offered some strange feeling of appreciation. In truth, she had saved him. Her lightly gilded skin contrasted greatly with the blue eyes that were met with utter surprise from the man. He was almost hypnotized by her appearance, an entire world apart from the females he was used to seeing back in Endrykas.

Without looking away, having been entrapped by the blue globes that were his eyes, he rose to his feet as his hand still held his stomach. “I…” he muttered. “… thank you.” His words, although spoken in common, carried the accent of his native Pavi and strange inflections were granted to the simplistic word. He was truly mesmerized by the female. He could recall the Drykas women, always sweaty and with messy hairs, always scarred beyond recognition and with motions more proper of a man. This was not the case for this female.
“Thank you.” He repeated, a bit loudly now as he fully rose to his height, standing tall over the female. He felt shame of himself for having been aided by such proper lady when he was dressed with old and unwashed rags and offering the scent of a wet dog. His features blushed lightly, forced to look away as he simply couldn’t dwell within the boundaries of those eyes of hers. His own hair was getting out of control, the beard being untrimmed for several weeks now, and it only made him more conscious about how he truly did not belong here.

Looking down at the dropped pouch and the scattered coins, he would quickly move to retrieve them, which he did in a fairly short amount of time. Returning all the coins inside the pouch, he would move back towards the female and extended the pouch towards her hands. He made sure to not be too close, as he did not want to see the disgust drawn in her features, or the regret of having helped him. “Here...” He shook the pouch slightly, just to let the sound of the coins reach the female’s ears.“I have little, but it is for you, for helping me, woman.” His words were soft and somewhat quiet, clearly ashamed of himself. Even if the judgment of the very few gossipers watching laid upon him, this once their opinions did not matter to him. He only hoped the female felt the same way.

A chill ran up his spine, as his bare feet somewhat shifted in attempts of escaping the frozen stone below. The more nervous he got, the more he felt the ink of his body trying to escape from one way or the other, looking for a pore in which to filter out as if that would ease these feelings.
“Please take. I want you not to shame what you do for me.”

753 / 50000

[Orabelle Deepseeker]

The Akalak's reaction shocked the mixed blood. The men were known for their tempers. When things did not go their way is when this truly showed. The light brother could lose all control and the dark brother could take over any minute now and she was prepared for that. She was prepared to face the soul many people fear. But she did not have to. The Akalak took a quick look at his surroundings and she could tell he was surprised by the crowd he had drawn. Then his look shifted back to her. He looked her over, which made Orabelle a bit uncomfortable and with one quick movement, she covered her bracelet. The last thing she wanted was another contract- especially one that bounded her to a man she had most likely angered. She had heard of Akalaks who simply take on nakivak and abuse them and she did not want that to be her. The city seemed to turn a blind eye to their Akalak brethren, overlooking most of their actions.

The Akalak looked ashamed of his action and he walked off, the other colorful men following close behind. The crowd realize that nothing else would happen and they too left, grumbling and very upset that the situation had ended so soon. This left Orabelle with the man she had just saved. She wished Kavala were here with her to make sure this man's health was well. The healer was talented and the konti could probably help him more than she could right now. Orabelle hovered over him as he coughed, placing a hand on his back, moving her hand around in small circular motions. It was all she could do. Orabelle did not possess too many skills, this was all she could do at the time. She could only comfort the man. "I am very sorry this happened." She did not know what else to say. She opened her mouth to say something else but by the time she did, he stood up. Orabelle was not a short woman, neither was she tall but the man towered over her. He made the mixed blood look petite when she really was not at all.

The man was tall and looked a lot more intimidating than the men who had interrogated him. She wondered why he did not fight back, since he was more than capable of it. She predicted he could take a few of those Akalak men down since he matched their height and most likely weighed more than him. As she gazed up at him, he almost reminded her of the men in her pod. The Deepseeker men looked much like him. Most of the men of her pod were heavily tattooed, most of their tattoos somehow related to the body of water they travel. The man had blonde hair too and lovely blue eyes. She knew for a fact that he was not a member of her pod but a part of her wondered if he were a Svefra. Regardless of if he were or not, Orabelle found him very attractive. Well, he would be if it were not for his filthy clothing. "Your welcome." She responded, blushing a bit and noting his pavi accent. Orabelle is not a vain individual (okay, maybe just a little) but she swears she saw the man looking upon her with admiration. Which she appreciated. She had not felt beautiful in some time, her confidence sort of destroyed by her weight loss and how poor her appearance had looked due to depression and natural causes.

She watched him collect his money and returned it the pouch. At least she knew now that he was not homeless. Orabelle only got a glimpse at the money he collected but it was enough for new clothes and possibly a nice place to stay. Why didn't he buy new clothes? She wondered if he were a modest individual, who simply enjoyed living the 'alternative lifestyle'. At first, she thought he extended the pouch to show her that he did have money. But she was completely wrong. The man offered it to her, a token of his appreciation. "No, no, no." She shook her head and arms side to side at the same time. "You keep it, I do not want your money." She pushed the pouch of money back until it hit his chest lightly. "You need it. For food and maybe clothes?" She hinted to him. Orabelle hoped he got her hint. "Also, woman?" She laughed. "My name is Orabelle Deepseeker. What is yours?"

She saw his slight reaction to the cold and knew that he was in need of clothes that would keep him warm. "Shame? Oh please. That was nothing, now keep your money."

[Wikus]

He got the hint, indeed, as even a single glance towards his clothing would have been interpreted as such. Even more, he would have invented said hint no matter what she said, as he felt very conscious of his attire. Having grown lazy due to the slow routine of the city, laundry times had been permanently suspended due to the ice that were all fountains and the river alike. His blush intensified, Wikus still unable to face the female. It was only until she gentle pushed his property to him that he gathered his strengths and gazed up at her. Looking at her was a challenge, very few times feeling aroused by a female, even less when all he had seen from her was her features. It was an awkward feeling he wasn’t ready to accept as nobody ever taught him how, and the few times he had felt it he had escaped like the coward he was. Only stutters came out of him at first, thankfully low enough to not completely earn the title of idiot. “I…”

“I be Wikus, woma---“Pause. “Orabelle.” Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t quite honor her name with a correct pronunciation, something he didn’t realize. His gaze flickered to the side, regaining whatever strength they could in that brief instant before returning to the female. “Thank you.” He finally repeated, nothing else coming to his lips. Looking down at the small pouch of gold, he’d play with it before lowering it down, watching his tattoos and begging them mentally not to move nor leak any ink. “I not know of clothes... I never buy.” Unfortunately, this was true. His Pavilion had provided him with clothing throughout his years in Endrykas, and the ones he currently had were stolen long ago from an unguarded wagon. Jobs, money, and even clothes were rather recent discoveries, thus making him quite unsuited to roam the world. His extremely reserved nature combined with the cowardice gained from a complete lack of self-confidence had alienated him from people, thus killing any chance of forming relationships or even getting to know the world he walked. “I be sorry.” He’d add, once again lowering his head.

Despite his ignorance, he wasn’t as stupid as it was often assumed. He somewhat imagined that his lack of words would eventually lead to a disinterest by the female, and it would all end up by each of them walking their own way without interacting again. It had happened many times before, and by now the logic has force-fed its way inside his brain and wedged itself somewhere deep inside. In this occasion, he had found someone whom stood up for him, and that by itself was rare. Not only that, but her beauty and serene motions were welcomed by him, as those qualities often did not quite mix. The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to let this chance slip away by limiting himself to stare at the ground while he waited for her to leave. For once, he wanted to make a friend. Looking back up innocently, he’d press his lips as he rose his eyebrows to form a rather impish expression, offering a rare scoff in attempts of stealing a smile from the female’s lips.

While he wasn’t very conscious of it, he was somewhat aware that his looks were better than the average, and that appearances seemed to matter a lot in these parts of the world. The clothing was greatly hindering his looks, yes, yet he still had himself and the certain attraction everyone felt towards him. Wikus wouldn’t address it normally, nor dare face the truth, but all this charm and these pleasant appearances were all thanks to his condition. It was a side effect, or perhaps it was intended to go hand in hand with the other issue of his presence. None the less, sometimes he tried to use it to his advantage – even if that advantage was to charm a female into teaching him to buy clothes. “You… you buy clothes with me, I give you money.” Pause, in which he’d watch the female and study her reaction so far. As he lacked confidence, even before her reaction he found himself panicking. Insecurity was really shameful at times, especially whenever he had to plea someone. “Please.”

721 / 50000

[Orabelle Deepseeker]

The man acted as if he had never seen a woman before. He appeared to be somewhat attracted Orabelle, which explained his actions at the moment. She had to admit, this was the first time a man had acted strange around her. Usually if one were attracted to her, he would try to impress her or get her attention- though, here in Riverfall if an Akalak were attracted to her, all he would have to do is become her talvis. It was sort of funny how things worked in Riverfall compared to the rest of Mizahar but the Akalak were sort of different than other human and humanoid races. "Are you okay?" The man began to stutter and for a moment, Orabelle thought he might have been suffering from the blows he took from those Akalaks. It was one thing to be speechless but to constantly repeat the first or last half of a word was something else. "If not, we can go see a doctor." She was very concerned now, he would not stop stuttering. Orabelle looked up at the man, trying to look into his eyes to see if there were something unusual about them. But they looked the same as they did just a few ticks ago when she first looked at them.


She tilted her head to one side and gave him a slight nod of approval as he pronounced her name. She did not mind that he butchered it a bit. Many people did. It was a name that could only be properly pronounced in Fratava by the Svefra. "Wikus. The name suites you." She gave a slight smile. It was a name she had never heard of until now. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Wikus." She curtsied in a joking manner. "Why do you keep saying thank you? I know you know more words in Common than that." Orabelle teased. She did not know why he felt the need to say thank you all the time. Orabelle was no hero and she did not want to be treated as such. "You have never bought your own clothes? How...how? I have never heard of such a thing." She did not understand. Wikus was a grown man for crying out loud. He also had enough funds to buy his own clothes. So why didn't he? Orabelle shook her head, she was being rude. [b]"No, no I'm sorry. I'm sure there is a good reason as to why you do not buy clothes." At least that is what she hoped.


"But you should really consider buying some new clothes." She moved in close to touch the man's shirt. She was feeling the fabric and what she could tell from the feeling of it is that the shirt was pretty worn out. Her prediction about his attire was pretty accurate, his clothes would not be able to withstand the weather to come. He would become really sick and only Lhex knew what would happen to him than.


Wikus had become silent and Orabelle did not know what else to say. But she did not want to leave the man all by himself. So she stood there, awkwardly looking down at her feet and back up at the man. She wished she knew him better, if she did starting a conversation with him would be a lot easier for her. He even stopped looking at her and she wondered why he would did so.


But then he looked back up at her with a look Orabelle could not help it but to crack a smile at. She let out a bit of laughter too. "What?" She asked a bit confused.


Orabelle kept the smile on her face, which widened when he asked her to help him buy clothes. "Of course, I would be happy to help but you do not need to pay me." She was willing to do it for free. Orabelle would not admit this aloud but she was kind of hoping he would ask her. Orabelle can imagine a lot of things Wikus would look nice in. The style of Riverfall was one she would be happy to introduce to her new friend. "I know a great place where you could get clothes.."

[Wikus]

Orabelle’s smile was contagious, yet ironically Wikus was immune to both disease and laughter so no such gesture escaped him. It felt good to make somebody smile, he thought, as he locked eyes with her in attempts of holding the charm. If it was there, of course. He still doubted, and still he feared despite her obvious acceptance. For once, his features lost the pout and relaxed, eyes moving away just to return upon hers. Her presence was soothing and friendly, making him feel strangely as if everything was in the right place. It was perhaps this what kept him from walking away and cowering in a dark alley. Exchanging mere shallow words felt better than ever before. Where were these kinds of people hiding in the world? Nodding slowly, his jaw would move around as if holding in an expression from coming out. While he was somewhat, he was playing coy, pretending to restrict a smile from displaying on his lips when in fact there was none.

“Not pay you, okay. Buy you something then.” Raising a surprisingly expressive eyebrow, his face was granted a blessing as now actual sentiments were allowed to be transmitted for the female. Unlike the ever-serious expression or minor pout he usually wore, the mere gesture granted him a whole new persona. Still a smelly one, but at least one that let on something other than reek. Nodding once more, Wikus would shrug his shoulders and raise his hand to indicate the female to lead the way. He wasn’t sure where he was as this city’s streets were all the same, and any clothing shops were certainly not in his selective memory. “You first, please.” He’d say this, inviting the female to lead the way towards whatever place she had in mind. It still felt extremely awkward for him despite his faked confidence, simply unable to get used to some other company that wasn’t one generated by his mind. He felt the need to cough once they began walking, yet he retrained himself as awkwardly as holding a cough can be. He wasn’t hurt, or at least not badly. Hitting the body didn’t usually leave even marks, despite bringing quite the harm to one’s endurance.

Wikus walked beside her, yet maintaining a safe distance. The smell was something he had to fix one of these days, not because he actually wanted to but mostly to find himself hidden from disgusted citizens. His height clearly made him stand out already, only being overpowered in that sense by a few Akalaks that grew even taller. He didn’t have much to say to the female, in fact not speaking a single word for quite a bit of time. Often he glanced towards her, sometimes staring from his height down on the female’s motions as discreetly as he could. She too had a story, just like himself and everyone else in this city, and he was interested in it. It was mandatory, in a way, to feel curiosity for someone’s past when you look at their present. The decisions made, the pain felt and the time spend healing intrigued him in a morbid way, yet not quite believing this gentle and friendly female had troubles on her back. The world would bend before her.

“Wo—“Correcting his mistake, Wikus would clear his throat before he attempted again. “Orabelle.” Butchering the name again, he once again became a victim of silence as he realized he had nothing to say. Almost as if a whim had convinced him, he had simply spoken the name without any reason whatsoever. “How bad I smell?” The answer was obvious, and the grammatical skills were obviously incorrect, but unfortunately that was what came out of his mouth. Sighing in disgrace, now he was forced to justify himself. “I clean me in river. Now river frozen so no water for me or clothes. Understand?” Nodding for himself, he’d glance down at her to see her reaction. “I be no pig, promise. Just need warm again.” Having these amounts of money, it allowed him to have a room in a proper inn. If it wasn’t for his distrust of the Akalaks, he would have used the water they provided him daily rather than using it for his other needs.

Wikus looked down towards his arm, subtly moving around the rose in his backhand and making it spin and stir gently, something relaxing he liked to do once in a while. He would have shown it to Orabelle, yet he did not want to be branded as a filthy mage in her eyes. Thus, he kept the secret for himself. “Thank you for helping me.”

[Orabelle Deepseeker]

He was the sweetest man Orabelle had ever met. In the little time she has gotten to know him, Wikus had been treating her the way most women wanted to be treated. Wikus treated Orabelle like...a lady. Wikus showed her much respect and kindness. She did not want to assume the tall man was trying to pursue her but if he were, it would be best if she let him know of her status. Orabelle was a nakivak and she could never be with or love anyone that was not Akalak. It was against the law and she would get into so much trouble. She didn't know if she should tell him or not. It would be best if she did but for some odd reason, she felt she shouldn't. I'll tell him later, maybe after we go shopping. She told herself. It would be best if she told him afterward. Wikus' attraction to Orabelle could be the only reason he agreed to getting new clothes.


"Okay, you can buy me something." She did not really want to him to buy her anything but she would agree to his wishes now and decline it later when they were done shopping. Wikus needed his money if he wanted to stay in Riverfall. The Akalaks are not as nice to the men. If Wikus were to lose all his money, he would most likely be kicked out of the city. At least that is what Orabelle heard. Women with no money could always strike up a deal with the Akalaks. "I know a place called the Red Diamond's Fashion." Orabelle told him as she began walking. By now she knew Riverfall like the back of her hand. She knew where everything was at and who ran what business. Orabelle was thinking of becoming a tourist guide-- if Riverfall had any. She knew a little more about the city now that she has been living here for almost two years now.


Orabelle walked with her hands behind her back. She hummed a bit of a svefra tune as she did so, looking over and up at Wikus here and there. Sometimes they would make eye contact, which made her quickly look away, giggling. "So Wikus, where are you from?" She stopped humming to hear him out. He was not your normal human and she could see that. Wikus' accent, his mannerism when she first met him- it all meant he came from a different culture. But what was it? She loved hearing about other cultures and Wikus had come from one she did not learn much about. He had come from one that might have accepted the way he carried himself. He could of came from a culture where the women looked nothing like Orabelle.


She stopped in place when Wikus asked about his odor. Again today, she was utterly shocked. She didn't think he would ask such a question. But at least he was aware of his stench and knew that he smelled unusual. Usually when people had hygiene problems they are unaware of it. "Well Wikus..." Orabelle's voice sounded as if it were fading as she turned her head a different direction. She did not want to look him in the eyes. "Its... your smell is kind of really bad." She hoped she didn't hurt his feelings. Orabelle was afraid to look at his face and see the disappointment on it. "I understand. But you have money, why don't you buy a hotel room and take you baths there?" She asked. "I don't think you're a pig. Pigs are pink and they like to eat mud." She teased. Orabelle finally looked back up at the man, smiling.


"No problem. It should be coming up now." Orabelle told him and she was right. The shop was coming up, bold letters on a sign stating that it was Red Diamonds fashion.

[Wikus]

Wikus too avoided her gaze when the topic of interest resurrected. Ash mixed with some water was usually the method he would use to cleanse his flesh of this reek of his, a very effective method to substitute the inefficient and rather annoying soaps made of animal fats. It left the skin soft to the touch, served to purge wounds and cuts from possible bacteria and it was easily made as only burned wood was needed. He usually applied said treatment every two or three days… but the civilized life of Riverfall had proven to be different. While ash was easily acquired at any hearth, the needed space and privacy was lacking – his room being rather small and way too disorganized for him to feel comfortable. The gist was that his hygiene was surely suffering. The critique was harsh, yet accepted as it was quite legitimate. The jest at the end, although somewhat offensive and creepily accurate for his weirdest moments, served as a comedic relief for him.

“Sea of Grass. I once be horse-man.” He began, glancing over at the shop they were about to enter. “Houses made of cloth and sojourn every day to new place, not many baths. Ponds served as baths.” Glancing down at her, he’d exhale. “Wild life, understand? Life here is less wild, and I don’t belong here.” Raising a hand to fondle his beard, he’d shrug. “I don’t want to belong here.” Holding his lips from making the mistake of offering a smile, Wikus would look down at Orabelle and oink twice, at least trying to mock himself rather than enjoying the awkwardness of critique. “You not belong here too. Where you come from?” Glancing once more at the store, he was strangely nervous about stepping inside. Clothing and fashion was a world he did not quite know, and his interest in getting to know it was rather small. Gesturing with an open palm towards the entrance, he invited her within wishing it all ends soon. Leaving doubts aside, he would be the first one to enter.

Ignoring the desk clerk completely, Wikus would directly walk towards the racked clothing. At first he inspected the female ones, soon realizing the deep cleavages were obviously destined for females rather than men. Riverfall’s feminine fashion was something he highly disagreed with, not quite used to the idea of clothing meant to attract male attention as if qualified as fake or pretentious in his mind. Glancing back at Orabelle, and her plain dress, he found way more attractiveness in her simple clothing and simply couldn’t imagine her dishonoring herself by wearing something inappropriate. Insecure about his taste now that he watched the male’s collection, he pretended to be picky as he slid different clothing to the sides. Orabelle wasn’t his wife, and he couldn’t rely on her doing everything for him due to that reason. Wikus’ women used to do everything for him, too, which meant he was rather incompetent at pretty much anything that didn’t involve violence and that kind of brutish attitude.

Already feeling the ink starting to do its little burn on his flesh as it intended on starting to leak out, Wikus’ hands gained some speed in their illusion of wisdom towards fashion. Halting them as he got hold of some random pants, which were rather tight for his taste and made with some polished black leather, Wikus decided it would be that what he’d try on as it did seem what anyone in this crazy city would wear. Sighing once more, Wikus was obviously conflicted for some reason. “I take this one.” He’d say without looking back, quickly removing his shirt, tossing it down on the ground and starting to fidget with his improvised belt, which was his whip. It was quite obvious he was about to try those pants on right there, reason why he had been trying to hide his blush for several ticks now.

656 / 50000