Closed Picking the Wrong Mark

[Julius Starr]

31st of Winter, 513 AV 14th bell, Surya Plaza Julius bowed low to the two Shinya that passed in front of him, hiding his yawn behind the back of his hand. Oh, how the man was worn out. He had been working night shifts at the Demise all season, and with his Anthropology class in the morning, he had been missing out on valuable resting time. And even when he was free in the morning, such as today, he still wouldn't settle for a simple rest. No, Julius Starr didn't want to just walk home and sleep in his bed, because that would feel to repetitive. So instead, when he left the Demise at the 10th bell, he took the little dirt path to Ahleas Park where he admired the wildlife and rest among nature. Oh, how idiotic that decision was. Granted, the environment was probably the most peaceful place he had ever rested in. He laid beneath the branches of a wanamu tree, watching the squirrels run to an fro across it. He had even seen a mountain cat moving through the forest, but he paid it little mind. He had fallen asleep easily enough; it was when he woke that he regretted this decision. His back was sore from the root of the tree he slept on top of, and his cloak was soaked from the damp ground; it had been snowing days before and the ground had absorbed the moisture. His hair was mangled and his clothes wrinkled. Still, it was a neat experience, sleeping among the twilight aura. Alas he had to return to civilization, and prepare himself for another night at work. A bath was definitely in order, to wash the grime off of him from the forest. And food, too; he had slept through lunch, and was particularly famished. Julius looked both directions, trying to figure out which was first; bath or food. His stomach rumbled, and the answer was clear. He turned left, falling in behind a group of people, in search of a meal.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

OOCI'm not quite happy with what this post has become...

The bat was having a good time for once. The usual bothers of his everyday life had taken a break from their activities, so today he was free from instinctual trouble winter brought with it. He’d been sleeping all day yesterday, even the whole night as well, catching up with the missed sleep of the past few days. Because he had finally, even if only for a day, been doing things according to his natural schedule, he had been able to rest for an extended period of time despite the insomnia that plagued him from time to time.

And here he was, fully rested, healthy and packed with energy making his way to a random street in the celestial city. Not even the cold could bother him; his woolen coat kept his body warm and the stunts he performed did so too. The thief couldn’t quite help it, he needed to rid himself of the hyperactive feeling he was experiencing today. A part of his mind didn’t really like the new mood, but couldn’t do anything about it, except for influencing the bat’s brain not to let him sleep that long anymore. People stared at him while he passed by, an obvious spring in his step.

Soon enough, his pace wasn’t satisfying anymore, and he started running. Tiring his body was the only way to get rid of the overflowing energy fueling him. His boots pounded the pavement of the streets in a continuously speeding up rhythm. After a while the world passing by was just a blur, only what was right in front of his eyes was sharp in vision. In his enthusiasm, he hadn’t been watching where he was going and before he knew it, the object in front of him was a wall. The thief’s feet had led him to a dead end.

Not that the wall formed a problem though. Brandon felt like he could just run vertically up it if he wanted. And that was exactly what he did, or rather, tried. The first step was always the easiest one to take: simply place the foot on the wall instead of the floor. Piece of cake. The second was a lot harder. By kicking himself upwards, he also distanced himself from the wall. Not much, but it became quite a gap after a couple of steps, and every step some of his momentum was lost, which would ultimately and inevitably result in the bat returning to the ground.

That was not happening just yet though. The thief had a little time before that would happen, and in that period he could easily take two more steps. So, the second step brought him a little bit closer to the top of the wall, and his body, diagonally angled due to the gravity and momentum, drifted a bit further away from the stone structure. The third step was the last he could take. This step took him higher still, but also too far away to even try to take a fourth step.

His body was now coming down, gravity grappled him by the head and pulled him down with steady hand. The way down could be seen as a nice arc, and the thief’s body traced it, was led by it. For the second part however, the bat maneuvered his knees to his chest and by swinging his head back violently, arms outstretched to maintain balance, a rolling motion in mid-air was achieved. Tumbling down, time seemed to slow down even further than before. He was about halfway in his spin, but the floor was coming closer fast, maybe too fast. There was nothing he could do about it though, except pressing his knees tighter to his chest. This made him smaller and the time needed to make his feet face the ground was reduced greatly.

The landing was one not as elegant the bat had whished, but at least he didn’t crash down as would have happened if he hadn’t paid attention. His feet came down rather clumsily, and his balance was jeopardized. The battle between gravity and unstable balance didn’t take long; the bat landed hard on his bum, a sore pain shot through his lower back and gone was all the energy. Walking wasn’t as comfortable anymore. What he now needed was something to cheer him up, and nothing was more pleasant than making money.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Julius Starr]

Julius had walked up on a wall of people, with no way to get around it. He had been following a group of teenagers, listening with only half interest to their conversation, when suddenly he had walked up on them. Something had distracted him for a moment, a hawker beside a shop or the smell of fresh baked bread, and he had taken his eyes off of the people ahead of him. They stopped, Julius didn't . . . the rest is clear. He barreled over a girl a foot shorter than him, sending her sprawling onto the stone street below. His immediate response was to help the girl to her feet, while her friends stared at him in surprise. Apologies were exchanged, followed by Julius exiting the scene; it would only be weird for him to remain in the teenager's vicinity after that scene. Thus moved off to the edge of the road, only to find his path blocked there as well. This was when Julius finally noticed the crowd. Dozens of people had formed a crescent, barricading the entire street. Every head was watching a scene ahead of them, a scene Julius could not see. Not that he was interested; he cared more for the food waiting for him at some tavern or restaurant, not whatever was happening on the street. So, carefully and with several more apologies, Julius pushed himself through the end of the crowd, hoping to circumvent the distraction in the street. When he finally came within sight of it, though, he froze in his place, mesmerized. Two jugglers stood in the center of the street, back-to-back, juggling swords. Each man had three swords each that they kept afloat in the air in a cycle that Julius knew he could never achieve. The sight held a repetitiveness that lulled the bystanders into a trance, broken every once in a while by a new trick. Julius had come at the right time, for they performed once of these tricks just then. Before they had been keeping the swords in front of them when they tossed it into the air, with low arcs. This time, though, they tossed a single sword high into the air behind them. Julius could've swore he heard the two blades slide by each other with a metallic hiss, but his imagination was probably just getting the better of him. The blades rotated once, and then was deftly caught by both men, and then immediately added back into the original cycle. The performers had traded swords in mid-air. And Julius was astounded. Julius stepped up a little, so he was standing at the intersection between this one street and another, smaller side street. His back was turned, eyes focused on the scene before him, oblivious to anything, or anyone behind him. And he wasn't going anywhere, at least until the jugglers were done.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Limping slightly due to the pain in his rear end, feeling both sore and numb, Brandon made his way through the alleys and darker streets the crystal city was rich. As usual, he didn’t have a particular direction, he just walked, turning left or right randomly whenever the opportunity presented itself. With less grace than usual he strode, feet coming down softly, moving forward as silent as possible. This way of walking had been developed by the bat, and had become an automatism both because of his profession that required a certain amount of stealth and because of his sensitive hearing. To the bat, his own footsteps still sounded like a normal person would perceive as the usual noise a walking person made.

After entering and exiting some alleys and backstreets, he heard it. Screams of astonishments and amusement, accompanied by the clattering metallic noise coins made when they fell on the stones or pavement. The thief’s ears cocked, trying to pick up where it was, and how far he was distanced of the event. The noises were rather loud, well, the screams were but the coins not. In fact, he could about just hear them falling down, but they didn’t do so loud enough that he could be sure that it was real or just a fantasy.

However, when a gasp for breath rippled through the crowd and was caught by his ears, it couldn’t be more clear that he wasn’t dreaming. Like a waterfall, the coins clattered down on the streets, scattering everywhere, followed by applause, whistles and exited murmurs. According to the bat’s memory, the event had to be a street performer entertaining the crowd. He didn’t know what or who, but it was certain that it wasn’t a musician since there was no music being played.

In essence, it didn’t really matter; it provided a great cover for him to get his hands on some wallets and disappear in the sea of people. Getting all excited, he was and his feet came down faster and faster while his grin emerged from his lips. He was coming closer, he heard: the screams were louder and all other sounds were more explicit. Instead of one mass of cacophonic voices, he could almost start to make out different conversations if he focused enough. His step quickened even more, the thief had started to run, a pace he could hold for a while without working a sweat.

There it was, lots of people standing in front of the exit of the alley he was in now. Actually, the alleyway was a bit too small for many people to stand in front of it, but that wasn’t a problem. The problem however, was that he wouldn’t be able to leave the alley by cutting through the crowd or passing the few persons blocking his way. Well then, he’d just grab one of their wallets and make his leave by going back the way he came. Even more quiet than before, he snuck up to the person in the middle, a young man, he saw judging the build of the lad.

Standing right behind him, the warm, heavy sensation returned, excitement and anticipation mixed with some fear. A feeling he liked and searched for, evoking adrenaline and making his breath come out in ragged gasps, however as silent as possible. With his right hand he lifted up his scarf, covering his face. Then, his eyes searched for the bulging of the man’s pocket where the thief reckoned the wallet was kept. Carefully his hand slid into the pocket, trying not to touch the man since it would alarm him. Probably. Or maybe not, he seemed to be quite caught up in the spectacle he was looking at, but the thief didn’t want to take the risk. His fingers found the coin pouch and slowly lifted it out of the man’s pocket.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Julius Starr]

The jugglers were calling for flaming weapons. They slammed two of the blades together, riling the crowd up, chanting the word fire. Soon enough, the crowd was urging them on, Julius included. Oh, he wasn't chanting or clapping like the others around him, but he wasn't walking away either. He truly wanted to see the men juggle the swords once they were ablaze. It was dangerous enough with the blades, but on fire? He wasn't going anywhere. The crowd parts on the opposite side of the street, allowing three young boys to enter with swords. Julius noted that they were wrapped in a rag, tied so it wouldn't fly off when the blades started spinning; he assumed that they were doused in oil to keep the flame. Part of him wanted to see them light the blades on fire themselves, but alas, it wasn't to be. They were going to take a flint, light a spark, and juggle the blades . . . The juggler facing Julius' direction held one blade vertically, staring forward. Julius stared back. The man took a deep breath. Julius continued to stare. The man blew out fire, lighting the sword ablaze. Julius stumbled back in shock, knocking into Brandon behind him. Julius wasn't sure why he jumped, since the flames never even reached the men in front of him, let alone him in the back. But as he felt the odd sensation of another man's hand in his pocket, he was thankful for the fright. He had only a moment to comprehend what was happening, before he acted. Julius turned to face the thief, dropping one hand onto the pocket of his pants, to prevent his wallet from being pulled free by the man as he moved; that is, if Brandon hadn't already retracted his hand after the initial collision. Julius dropped his shoulder, hoping to knock Brandon off of his feet. Most likely, he was still off balance from Julius backing into him. The hope? To get Brandon on the ground so he could question him. If this sequence succeeded, Julius would go on to put his knee onto the man's middle, leaning over to whisper into his ear. "Who are you and why did you try to steal from me?" would be all he asked. No threat to call the Shinya, no cry from help from the people intent on the jugglers. If not . . . well Brandon would most likely get away, empty-handed but free. Of course, Julius would probably yell thief as well. Fate, and a little luck, would decide how the situation would unfold.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

All of a sudden the man in front of him, his target, jumped backwards. Why, he would do so, the bat didn’t know, he hadn’t seen it coming, and needless to say he wasn’t prepared for it. Between his chest and the man’s back there had been little space already, and when the both of them roughly collided, the thief was forced to stumble backwards. His hand was sliding out of the pocket, but he could feel an other person’s skin brushing against his hand as it happened. Shyke, this is bad! flashed through his mind. He should run, now! There was no point hanging around a target that already was aware of his presence, if he could get away at all.

Very frustrating having to run without even being able to take the wallet with him. Not that the bat would get the chance to run anyway. Still surprised and out of balance, a shoulder was charged into his chest, the force was enough to bring him and the ground together, albeit in a rather rough manner. His back hit the floor first, knocking the air out of his lungs like usual. His eyes closed due to the shock and multicoloured flashes danced on his closed eyelids for a moment. A pressure was felt on his middle.

As he opened his black orbs again, he saw his target on top of him, one knee on his middle to keep him down. The bat’s expression predicted storm, thunderclouds rumbled in his eyes. The man bent over and whispered a question in his ear. Brandon didn’t answer it, he was under no obligation to answer stupid queries. Think about it, why would someone try to steal another person’s wallet? Exactly, because they needed the money or because of the excitement felt while doing it. For Bran, both were correct.

So instead of replying, he simply turned his head to the other side, not willing to meet the guy’s eye. Instead, he grabbed the man’s clothes and pushed and pulled, shaking him wildly until he managed to get him of off him. Since the man had had bent over, his balance was while kneeling down, his balance was disrupted and it didn’t take the bat much effort to free himself. While he got up, he dusted off his clothes but didn’t make any attempts to run, his target hadn’t called for help or something else either.

“Your face was too close for comfort. Now, think about your own question for a chime. Look where you are, don’t you think I don’t need to answer it?” He placed his back against a wall and leaned against it, arms crossed and his typical mischievous grin painted on his face. He found this series of events actually quite amusing, and his target was interesting as well. Why hadn’t the guy called for the Shinya or help from the crowd? Well, there was but one way to find out, by asking him directly, but not yet. The thief wanted to know what he’d tell him spontaneously.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Julius Starr]

As a child, Julius was taught to think before he acted. The lessons had been a constant reminder, molding the man's approach to life. Oh, it had been for little things when he was young, yet they had stuck with Julius all of his life. Don't touch the pot immediately after taking it off the fire. Don't throw frozen balls of ice when he ran out of snow. And most importantly, don't hit others who didn't deserve it. That, out all of the hard lessons had learned, stuck with him the most. Never once had he raised a hand in anger or struck an undeserving individual, at least that he could remember. If he had done so, and just forgotten, he'd certainly feel remorse to his victim. Brandon received no remorse, though, as Julius took him to the ground, since he deserved it in Julius' mind. Not that he truly considered the situation before he acted. The slight stumble, the feeling of the man's presence in his pocket, the heat of the moment . . . it didn't breed clear thought. No, Julius had struck out with a primal instinct ingrained in man, to protect himself and the things he cherished. Only when he had the man on the ground did he consider the situation. Hence the question, to give an identity to the thief, to make him more in his eyes. This man, though, was functioning on a different thought process, his own instincts kicking in. Not only had he been caught in the act, he had also been overpowered and pinned to the ground. One shout, one person who looked away from the show, and he would be arrested. No, the questions Julius asked meant nothing to this man. Only escape mattered. And escape he did. Graceful was not the word to describe the man's flailing and shaking to get Julius off of him, a wild grab at his clothing. He shook and wiggled for a few ticks until he was free of Julius' grasp. Not that his hold was strong in the first place; he was never meant for these physical struggles, so breaking free was easy enough. Julius prepared himself to yell at the first sign of flight. His clothes were wrinkled from the man's grip and damp from the ground. His hair was askew from the encounter. Worst of all, his stomach was gnawing at him, reminding him that he should be eating, not wrestling with criminals. No, this man wasn't getting away from him. Julius never had to yell, though, since the man never ran. No, he dusted his clothes off, and answered Julius' questions. He even questioned Julius himself, telling him to answer his own question with, what, arrogance or amusement lacing his words. The man, only ticks before fighting to free himself from an embrace that he probably feared ended with the Shinya appearing was now leaning against the wall, a smug grin on his face and a curiosity that rooted him in place. Oh, the naivety was ripe on this man, yet Julius felt something for him. Not respect, no; he couldn't respect anyone who got caught. It wasn't disapproval either, though. He thought the man too cocky, too confident, for his failure. Maybe it was just curiosity as well, two thieves in the alley, that kept Julius fixed where he stood. Thus, Julius answered the man's questions, though not with his own steel to his words. "Aye, my face was too close to your head, and your hand was too close to mine. I'd call that even, though the two surely aren't equal." Julius grinned, despite the situation; let the man think he was close to touching his manhood. It might faze his hand the next time he saw a wallet for the taking. "As to what I see when I look around, I see a fool who failed to rob me and still has the audacity to smile. I see a thief, though the reasons why you steal elude me. Maybe you'll tell me your story while we walk." The last bit shocked Julius; the words spilled out, flowing with the rest. He truly was curious about this man. He wanted to know the man's story; as a bartender, he spent many a night listening the other men's stories. None of them, though, ever admitted to being a thief; yes, this was a new story Julius wished to hear for himself. He was one himself, but he had never met another. Julius turned back to the crowd at the mouth of the alley. "The Shooting Star is just down the square and I'm starving. I meant to dine alone this afternoon, but it seems my plans have changed; you, sir, are coming with me. While we walk, you'll tell me a little more about yourself; I've never talked with a thief before, and I'm curious as to the stories you tell. Consider it your test to buy my silence. Walk with me, and after, you'll walk free." Julius looked back at the man, a smug grin on his face similar to the one Brandon had donned. "The name's Julius, by the way, Julius Starr. You can start by telling me your name." And with that, Julius shouldered past the onlookers, not looking back to see if his new found acquaintance followed.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

“Hmpf” Bran snorted at the man’s remark of his hand in his pocket, which he hadn’t been able to empty. Equal they were not indeed, but it didn’t quite matter if he had been close to touching the man’s reproduction organ; it hadn’t come so far and never had. Besides, it was the only way to steal a wallet in a pocket, coming close to things he’d rather not touch was a risk he had to take, though it did make him feel a bit uncomfortable. The man grinned as he said it and continued to speak, now using his reply to attack the thief.

A fool?! Not in the slightest! But if that was how people saw him, then he guessed it couldn’t harm him, it was a perfect disguise. People never expected anything from a fool, so he could plot all he liked and they wouldn’t see it coming. Though that critique stung quite a bit and his expression shifted as a result, inverting his smile slightly. He had failed indeed, the unforeseeable had hit him in the face and he had been caught because of that. But mistakes were what he learned from, bad experiences were made into examples of what could happen if he forgot about it, so instead of trying to banish the memory from his mind, he embraced it.

“Why, thank you!” he said in a sarcastic tone, though partly it was honest. “Maybe.” His cheerful grin returned and his former expression was washed away by it. He’d show this guy some more audacity, all of it, and keep up the Fool’s act. It was a role he was born for, and playing it went effortless, it was just how he usually acted after all. Maybe he could even test how well it worked, though there was one problem with this plan; this guy already had caught him stealing or rather, trying to and would probably keep an eye on his hands.

This wasn’t the first time he had been caught though, but definitely the first one where he had been unable to escape, or when it was not necessary to do so. The more he was spotted, the less he liked the fear of that happening, the sneaky demeanor was actually much more exciting, and running had become something he didn’t like to do anymore. Well, less than before. Could also be because he never had been able to get chased like that time. The chase over the rooftops with a hound on his heels, that had been an amusing day. Too bad she had left the city like she had said she’d do. He hadn’t even been treated the meal she’d promised him.

The wish of food, hopefully free, was manifesting itself in the words of the man telling him he had to come with him to the Shooting Star Inn in order to ‘buy his silence’. “Sure, but you’re buying, right? Don’t tell me I don’t get to eat? Now that would be unfair.” The grin on the man’s face annoyed him big time, seeming to ignore and taunt him. “Well Julius, the name’s Brandon, Brandon Of The Black Wings,” he introduced himself with the same intonation and structure, just to annoy him back in defense, he couldn’t just obey without putting up a fight.

Julius disappeared in the crowd and Bran sighed, unhitching himself from the wall he followed in the man’s footsteps. Using one shoulder to use as a battering ram, he broke through the wall of people, roughly, which was rewarded with a lot of grumbling and nasty stares. Also just because he couldn’t resist and had to have a token of his efforts today, he targeted a woman in the vicinity, grabbing her shoulder, after which he whispered in her ear. “They’re amazing, don’t you agree?” He was talking about the jugglers he had noticed when entering the sea of flesh. The small line was just to cover his actions of course. The woman, startled by this action, shook his hand of her shoulder with an annoyed grunt and after a brief glance in his eyes, she looked away.

“They are”, she agreed, but the tone in her voice made clear she didn’t want him around her, and had just answered so she’d be rid of him. He sighed as if rejected by her, which he was, and slowly moved away. Whatever she had thought his objective was, whether using the line just for starting a conversation or as excuse to talk to her –she was quite beautiful- she thought she’d prevented it. However, she had failed to notice his fingers had carefully pulled her coin pouch from under her belt and was now walking away with it stuffed in his pocket. The bat chucked a bit mean and continued his way.

Julius was nowhere to be seen though, most likely he had taken another street than he when exiting the crowd, leaving the bat by himself. Fortunately Bran knew their destination and decided to go there on his own, though this would be a good chance to escape. However, in his foolishness –the man had been right, he was a fool- he had given him his name and if the man so desired, he could tell the Shinya on him. Troublesome situation, but very interesting as well, the bat was curious of how the events would unfold. He grinned the Brandon grin and hurried to the Shooting Star Inn, wanting to arrive before his former target did.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Julius Starr]

It seems the longer Julius conversed with the thief, the more he grew fond of. A strange concept, really, to enjoy talking to a man who had just attempted to rob him. He just as easily could've despised the man or shook his head in disappointment. But standing there as the man scoffed at his own jokes, all the while repaying him with his own sarcasm . . . Julius couldn't help but enjoy it. It reminded him of his friends of old, back in the days where a bottle of stolen wine and japes were all they needed. Of course, Julius didn't tell this man that; the man was wild enough as is, and approval of his sarcasm would only inflame the man's antics. Thus, for the most part, Julius tried not to react to the man's words. He did grin, though, at the man's reaction to his little joke. Seems the man wasn't so large a fool to understand a joke. His other comments were mostly ignored, except for a single wave when the man ask if he was being fed as well. Julius should've expected that; most men were driven to thievery for survival. More than likely, the man was hungry. And if that was all Julius needed to pay for the man's story . . . Well better to know you're being robbed than to be ignorant. Julius did speak up, though, when the man finally introduced himself. It wasn't the name, really, that had intrigued him so; Brandon was a common name, a name that did not mark him of any particular city or race. No, it was the wording of the titles that had caught Julius' attention. Brandon of the Black Wings; humans didn't address themselves as that, for sure. His mind had drifted back to a lesson Julius had had not too long ago at the Academy; master Nyolt had taught the class of a particular group of people who spoke that way. Julius looked at Brandon for the first time, searching for any signs of the man's origins. He definitely didn't look like the savages from the Jungle, with his short stature and common features. Still, Julius curiosity had been caught, and it needed to be sated. "I must admit, no Lhavitian refers to themselves in the way you did. Pray tell, do you introduce yourself like a Myrian because you are one yourself, or just because it sounds cool?" Of course, this question had been asked before Julius had stepped back into the crowd. Once he was among the people, his conversation with Brandon had gone quietly. At first, Julius had believed the man had finally comprehended the situation he was in, only to look around and discover that the man had vanished. Run away, most like, melting into the crowd and disappearing before Julius could come to his senses and have him arrested. Julius should've have expected this from the thief; getting caught, and then sticking around, were not the actions of a prosperous criminal. Yet Julius felt a nagging feeling inside of him that kept him walking towards the Shooting Star Inn; most like, it was hunger. But Julius told himself that this man would find him again, despite the opportunity he had been given to escape. Julius had peaked the man's interest just as much as he had done for himself. Thus, Julius continued to the inn, brooding over his own thoughts until he stepped into the heated common room of the establishment. A waitress walked up to him while he was hanging his cloak on a peg beside the entrance. He ordered lunch for two, whatever was being cooked at the moment, and two pints of ale to wash it down. The girl looked at him strange, peering past him in search of his dining partner. To the woman's unspoken inquiries, Julius only stated, "He should be along shortly." Five chimes later, Julius was seated at a table near the fire, a plate of stewed goat and onions over a bed of white rice sitting in front of him, a pewter mug of a pale ale that Julius sipped out. An identical setting sat idle opposite Julius, waiting for one Brandon Blackwing to arrive. Julius couldn't possibly know if the man was going to tell Julius the story he wished to here, or if he would even talk at all. Julius knew, though, that Brandon would come. That much he was certain. Brandon was coming, and Julius was waiting for him.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

The Shooting Star in popped up in his vision, the white door and the name of the Inn only barely readable for the bat’s fairly unpractised eyes. People passed by, some sending a stare through the windows, others not interested at all. Some entered, some left, but none of them was the man he was waiting for. Well, of course he couldn’t expect the guy to appear right after the thief himself had arrived, no, he had to exercise patience. Though that was hard when the bitter cold winds slipped under his clothes and caressed his body with icy fingers. Maybe he should wait inside?

That was a great idea and the bat went right along with it, he was quite certain that Julius would come in as soon as he arrived. The freezing temperatures were difficult to endure for extended periods of time after all, especially when just standing there. A few steps and a push of his hand took him inside, a wave of warmth rolling over him all the while. Closing he door behind him, Brandon strode inside, scanning the room for a place to sit.

The decoration of the place astounded him. White velvet tablecloths, and cushions made the tables and chairs look way more expensive then they probably were, and the gold paint on the walls went extremely well with it. The bat hung his coat on the peg, making the burden it carried a little bit heavier, and took another look around, now paying some more attention to the patrons than he initially had. There were all kinds of people present, males, females, young and old. All chatting with the people at their own table, some enjoying a deliciously smelling meal while others just had a drink. And then he saw him. Recognition was easy as the soft visage, the wild hair, dark hued clothes had been seen by his dark orbs not that long before.

Believe it or not, but the man named Julius Star had arrived before Bran had, sipping from a beverage with a plate of food in front of him. Two plates actually, and two mugs as well. The bat grinned, saliva already gathering in his mouth and slowly crossed the room towards the table he was sitting at. It didn’t matter that he had been beaten in the small race here, there was food and it looked more then eatable. The thief pulled the free chair from under the table and let his body rest on the soft pillows.

“Hiya, Juli!” he greeted the man as if they’d known each other for more than just a few chimes. The abbreviation of the man’s name was something he’d come up with on the spot, but served the same purpose as the tone he’d been answering the man’s questions in: annoy the hell out of him. The bat’s lips parted in his trademark grin. “You don’t seem too surprised to see me, you were expecting I’d show huh?”

He beamed the man a wide smile and took a sip from his drink. Refreshing his throat, the liquid streamed down to his stomach. The fruity, sweet taste spread a warmth through his body, so did the steam rising from his plate. His fingers felt a little stingy as the heat drained the cold from them and they turned a raw red. They still felt frozen though, how he’d been able to pick pocket that woman before was a mystery, although it was possible that they hadn’t been rid of their sensitivity then yet. Bran took another sip, savouring the taste before letting it flow down.

“So, what was it you wanted to know before we got separated? Something about my name, was it? And Myrians.” He thought for a bit, remembering the inquiry soon after, whether it was repeated by the man on the opposite end of the table or not. “Well, I don’t think I have a Myrian parent, though it could have been possible. But I tell you with certainty that I am not such a savage myself. One can deny that though.” He shrugged “That leaves one option. There you have your answer. Oh, and thank you for the compliment, I like my name a lot as well.”

After that, he looked down to the meal, a leg of an animal of sorts, he didn’t know what one, made into a stew with … onions? They smelled like onions. That all rested on white rice, supporting the tender meat and sweet vegetables. His stomach ordered him to pick up the cutlery and take a bite, but something stopped him. “It would be a waste to let a meal such as this cool off any further… Shall we start the lunch?”

x

credit goes to Euthisa