Now I'm Trapped Within Your Walls

[traumaticus]

Who: Richard & you
Where: Aldrip & Woods
What: Catch-all for May
Warnings: mentions of dead animals, possible npc death? violence?

(ooc: here's a link to Richard's permission post for the curious)

Comments

I - Hunting (cw: dead animals)

[traumaticus]

[Oh. How has the mighty fallen. From the noble castles and the regal courts to common inn and to shabby woods. With nothing but bow and arrow on his back, sword and dagger on his hip. No servants, squires or even hounds. Like a primitive poacher. Richard can just see how his oh so noble brothers would laugh at him, if they were around to see him now. But Richard doesn't mind. He's always preferred to do things alone, without any meddling attendants with their fawning that they're paid to do.

Besides, hunting is the only thing that feels even remotely familiar to him in this strange world with its all oddities and curiosities. And hunting is something that he can do and do well.

So, most of the mornings Richard can be seen heading to the woods and return only when the sun start to set. Each time he has a prey of some kind with him. It's usually either rabbit or a poultry of some kind, but sometimes he can be seen dragging an alive sheep with him or to have dead snakes strapped on his belt. After each hunting trip he makes his way to docks to look for a merchant of sorts to sell off his haul. Again, pretty primitive. At least that's the way it feels to him, as walks through the staring crowd.

At first Richard agrees to sell his haul at the prize that is offered to him by the merchant, sometimes with more agreeable face than other times. But if you happen to run to him later in the month, he's not as willing to sell his prey too cheap and is ready to haggle with the merchants.]

[enthraller]

[Saralegui's been a bit adrift since arriving here, especially with the novelty wearing off and no clear path to finding a way home. The docks are at least a vaguely familiar scene. The sounds and smells feel like parts of home, if nothing else.

It's an early evening when he first spots Richard again down by the docks while wandering aimlessly. As intrigued as Saralegui was by the strange man in found in a back alley his first night here, he hasn't really run into the guy in person much since there. Their schedules just don't really align – which is to say, Saralegui's usually still asleep when Richard heads out in the morning.

He's initially pleased to see the familiar face, but his expression falls to bemusement as he notices the sheep being dragged behind him.]

...What on earth are you doing with that?

[traumaticus]

[The early bird gets the worm, Sara!

An idle, leisure lifestyle was never for Richard. He had always been one to find ways to fill his schedule with something. Be it with work and training. And seeing that he has no land, no status, no battles to be fought, hunting seemed only the most logical step for him to do -- despite it feeling a little embarrassing to freight livestock like this around.

Which is exactly he's not all too pleased to see this particular familiar face approach him. It'd be lying to say that he didn't have conflicted feelings about the young man, especially after their last conversation. But then again, he should know it better than anyone that not even kings are safe from retribution. They can be knocked down just as everyone else, no matter how holy they are.

Though Sara's question at him actually manages to stop Richard's thoughts because... what?]

I'm going to sell it. [What else would he do with a sheep??]

[enthraller]

[Saralegui resists the urge to roll his eyes – as that wouldn't be very polite of him – but he doesn't quite manage to avoid the slight pursing of his lips in exasperation. Being around Yuuri might have somewhat spoiled his perfect control over such things.]

Where did you get it in the first place?

[As much of a princess as he is, Saralegui oddly doesn't seem to mind the proximity to the sheep. Not in the "cooing over animals" way, of course, but there's no prissy repulsion from a barnyard animal. He leans in to examine it as comfortably as if it were a horse, the sort of animal royalty interacts with all the time.

That is, until the sheep gives an idle baa and Saralegui startles backwards, baffled.]

...Are you quite sure that's a sheep?

[traumaticus]

[Stupid questions get stupid answers!

Richard watches Saralegui move to interact with the sheep at the end of rope, which in return tilts its head curiously as it greets the new human. The sudden reaction from the young king manages to tug a small to his lips.]

What else would it be? There are plenty of them around the meadow.

[enthraller]

[The look he fixes Richard with is layered as hell – confused, exasperated, suspicious that he's perhaps being fucked with. He gestured vaguely at the "sheep" with a frown.]

You heard it, didn't you? It doesn't even sound like a sheep.

[This is incredibly silly but in his defense, sheep are weird where he comes from and the experience was like if you heard a sheep say meow.]

[traumaticus]

[Saralegui's reaction earns an amused raise of eyebrow. Now it's Richard turn to hold back an expression, though with him it's a sneer born from jeer than from frustration.]

My, unfortunately I didn't. I must have missed it, your grace. What did the sheep say?

[enthraller]

[That gets Richard a look, one that clashes with his normal affable persona. He knows what you're doing, dick, and he's a little too taken aback to properly hide his irritation at it.]

Baa. Like a cat.

[solitarysoul]

[Levi doesn't go out hunting nearly as often as Richard, but he still heads out into the woods to bag some game from time to time. Or hunt monsters, but that wasn't what he was after today. This morning as he heads into the forest with his rifle in his hands he comes across another person. Its been awhile since he's ran into something here.]

Oh, um. Hi?

[traumaticus]

[Richard is grouched down on the ground, checking out the subtle marks among the leaves left by an animal not too long time ago. A deer, probably. Or that's at least what the signs indicates towards to. Just when he's standing up he hears the quiet footsteps near him, making him place his hand on his sword's hilt in caution.

But then he sees the culprit behind the steps, a rather timid and frail-looking young man. Not someone you'd expect to see alone at the woods.]

I did not expect to see others here.

[solitarysoul]

Me either. Are you looking for something specific or just hunting? I think a few other people go hunting sometimes.

[traumaticus]

[Richard turns his eyes away from the young man, casting his gaze back on the tracks on the ground. A thoughtful expression sets on his face. He'd rather not to have others meddle with his hunting, let alone his prey.]

I'm after a game. [He hums an answer.] Although I have head there are monsters and other beasts around.

[solitarysoul]

I see. Which way were you heading? No reason to get in each other's way.

Yeah, there are monsters so be careful. Some of them are just big animals but some can do magic or whatever. The, uh, villagers or whatever put up bounties on them sometimes so if you can handle them its not a bad way to make money.

[traumaticus]

[Richard looks at the trail leading to their left. He purses his lips thoughtfully, not saying anything at first. The affirmation of monsters and magic do intrigue him as much as it does unnerves him.

He yet another glance at the youth, looking him up and down, eyes focusing on the strange pole on his back.]

What are you carrying with you?

[solitarysoul]

Oh, that's my rifle.

[Its not the first time he's run into this question.]

Its a gun; a long range weapon More powerful than a bow, but noisier.

II - Restaurant (cw: description of an injury)

[traumaticus]

[Another thing that Richard vastly prefers to do is to dine alone. He's gotten into the routine to order food at the inn and then take it up to his rooms. But one evening, after having spent a long day while chasing after a deer he felt absolute famished and decided to stop by one of the local restaurants.

He orders simple looking dish, beef in a sauce with grilled potatoes and bread to go with it, and sits down in table at the corner. When the food arrives Richard removes his gloves, revealing rather.. gnarly sight when his left hand becomes visible. The skin covered in red scar tissue. There are few darker, almost ashy spots around the back of his hand and fingers, looking like the skin layer had been burned -- or rather melted off, making the remaining flesh look wrinkly. An injury that would later be most likely diagnosed as acid burn.

Though, the injury probably isn't the most notable thing about him. Because instead of reaching for the utensils placed on the table he grabs the bread, breaks it with his own hands and dips it right into the sauce. He scoops up some of it on the bread and eats it, then moving to picking up the pieces of meat with his fingers, tearing them into smaller pieces before eating them -- licking any stray droplets of the juices or sauce off his finger. Well, guess the small saving graces here are that he keeps the mess minimal? Still, by the time he's half-way done with his meal he's already gathered some questioning looks from the other patrons because... yeah, it's kinda gross?

With a growing ire Richard cast an unimpressed yet subtle side-eye at the surrounding tables. Not wanting to be a spectacle for the crowd he grabs his gloves, stands up and tosses a few coins on the table and stands up, preparing to leave.]

[conflictresolution]

["There's a guy eating with his hands?"
"Did you forget to give him utensils?"
"I gave them, but he's not using them! He's just hunkering over his meal like a savage..."

Silco looked up from checking the order slips at the conversation between the waitress and the sous chef. There were certain items on the menu that were designed to be eaten with ones hands, but there was a distinct impression that this was not the case. He expected that meant they had welcomed a traveler from another city or it was someone who was a potential Chosen.

It was curious enough that he walked out behind the main counter where stools were set up for loners, and it wasn't difficult to locate the person in question due to the amount of attention that they had begun to garner. For Silco, this was not unusual eating habits; utensils were a luxury few could afford in the Undercity. This was not someone he recognized, so he expected new. Clothing was older looking, not a style common here.

He approached, and his interest piqued when he noticed the scarring on the other's hand. It looked more like burn scars, which were different from his own which marred the left side of his face. As the stranger rose, he pushed beyond a gawking customer. He nudged the other chair with a foot so it scraped on the floor.]

Ignore the onlookers, newcomer. And I don't want your version of currency tonight; a moment of your time so you can finish your meal is all I ask.

[And he seated himself without invitation. The scarring stood plainly on his face, facing most of the onlookers who returned to their meals. He crossed one leg over the other and looked at the stranger, gesturing with a hand.]

Sit, if you would entertain my request.

[traumaticus]

[Richard is just pulling the gloves back on his hands when he is approached. Normally, he would have ignored the other man and just left, as he's not all that interested in mingling with the locals and alike. But when Silco moves closer, Richard stops, his discolored eyes narrowing and brows pressing down into a small, confused frown.

It's hardly the first time Richard's come across with someone that's plagued by deformity. He's had his fair share of walking in the darkest alleys of London, where all the undesirables and wretched crawl while begging for scraps and alms from those who are better off than them. Not to mention that there is the case regarding his own, unnatural status. But it's still not everyday that one comes across someone with such visible mutation, especially not out in open like this, showcasing such confidence.

While he manages to keep his expression neutral he can't help but look right into the darkness of the damaged eye, focusing on the bright red iris in center of it. Somewhere in the distance he swears he could hear the menacing laughter of a witch.

A brief, yet heavy moment of silence passes between them before Richard makes his next move. Wordlessly, he sits back down at the table and reaches out to grab his drink.

What now, stranger?]

[conflictresolution]

[Silco had bore this scar for half of his life; it was part of what made him the man that he was now. When he looked in the mirror, it reaffirmed his resolution to let that weak pathetic man die in the river Pilt and accept the pain and suffering would make him stronger. The ache of his deformed eye and the scarring around it was contained due to the use of Shimmer, of course. It kept the damage from continuing to get worse; it meant he could still see somewhat out of the damaged eye.

He waited for the lithe stranger to sit down again, though he wouldn't be offended if this one walked out there. He had no invested interest one way or another, but he was curious of the newcomer. He knew most people around, had acquired many spies to feed him information, and he made it a point to try to keep a list of the Chosen around. Maybe this was just another local, but he doubted it.]

You must be new to these parts. You have that look of a Chosen. Am I right?

[He let an arm rest on the table, his index and middle finger lightly tapping on the top of the finished wood. Both of his eyes were focused on the newcomer.]

I'm Silco, by the way. I own this establishment. You are?

[traumaticus]

Oh? [Richard scoffs quietly to is cup as he lifts it to his lips, taking a small gulp of the wine. His expression shifts into more amused one, the corner of his lip curls up into a half-sneer. Placing the cup down he resumes back to eating, grabbing the meat and tearing pieces out of it.]

Richard. [He offers as an introduction, leaning against his free arm.] What do I owe the pleasure of having the owner himself treat me?

[conflictresolution]

[Silco was not at all bothered by eating with one's hands, and it wasn't any more or less crude than hacking ones meal as far as he was concerned. If anything, it was refreshing that someone would eat in such a manner, and while he knew some of the towns prioritized the idea of manners than others, this kind of eating did draw attention.

It also interested him where this one came from.]

Your eating habits were raising comments with my serving staff. I came to make certain that you were welcomed regardless of how you chose to consume your meal. [He reached out to take one of the coins that Richard had tossed on the table, lifting it to examine it.] Are you staying in the inn for the time being?

[traumaticus]

[Richard raises a questioning brow at that explanation, the grin on his lips subduing a few tones. There is a small pause from him as he quietly chews on the meat in his mouth and Silco's explanation. Yeah, he had suspected that there was something about him that stood out like a sore thumb in middle of the crowd -- hell, it was so damn obvious that he wasn't one from this world, but still. Hearing just what it was this time that made him to be different did manage to turn his stomach sour, make him lose the appetite.

So, after he swallows the bit in his mouth he gives his fingertips a quick lick and pushes the plate to the side.] Interesting. Isn't it a custom to throw out those who cause a scene rather than offer them a meal.

[Okay, fair. He's being a little dramatic here. He might've caught attention of the others but hardly stirred any trouble.]

Yes. That is the lodgings that I was directed to when I first arrived here.

[conflictresolution]

[It was very obvious that this one wasn’t from Aldrip or Rumpitur. The fashion was different from his world as well, but he didn’t care. Chosen were here for one reason or another, no doubt for a kind of punishment they all deserved on some level. He noted that Richard abandoned the meal for a second time, likely due to something that he had said. Sensitive fellow, was he?]

Is that a custom where you’re from? Because where I’m from it depends on the scene and it depends how much one is respected. [He rolled the coin over his fingers, and he made it clear that he was perfectly contain to remain.] If you’d like me to have you thrown out, I could oblige, but I don’t consider your presence to be particularly offensive so don’t see the benefit.

[Such drama. This was someone that’s ego was easily ruffled it seemed. Maybe it was worth giving a little push.]

That is typical. Most stay there the first month to gain their bearings and funds to have their own place to reside in. I expect you will be the same. Some, of course, stay at the inn more long-term.

III - Thiever (cw: violence)

[traumaticus]

[Honestly, one can only take so much before push becomes a shove. After couple of weeks in the strange land Aldrip, where nothing makes sense or works as one ought to expect, it'd be an understatement to say that Richard is feeling the stress turn into anxiety. So, all it really takes is one wrong move of one ill-fated thief, who just had to pick up a wrong target to set him off.

He must've seemed such easy prey. Seemingly-frail bodied, walking all alone with too much coins to weight him down, eh.

So, when one of fortune-seeking thieves of the Aldrip decide to jump on him somewhere in near the entertainment district, Richard doesn't hesitate to fight back. Without needing to put much effort to the struggle he is able to disarm the man attacking him, throwing him the ground. His eyes are wild and full of the pent-up aggression as he automatically reaches for the dagger he carries with him and pulls it out against the thief's throat. The predator (now turned into a prey) shrieks as he tries to fight against the blade. ]

Shut it now! [Richard hisses as he the sharp blade roughly against the tender skin, ceasing the fighting spirit of the thief for time being.] Your friends are not here to help you. Any last words?

[Um, SOS? Would anyone like to help out the poor fellow? Or Richard?]

IV - Just Around

[traumaticus]

[But hey! Not everything is doom and gloom with Richard! You might as well just catch him explore his new 'home.' He might be watching the mannequins on the display on fashion stores with a confused frown on his face. Walking inside a store but having troubles with exiting, as he can't quite figure out how the automatic doors work. Help! Or maybe you'll catch him staring furiously at his tablet as it peeps informing him of a new message, before violently throwing it at wall.

World might be your oyster, but it definitely isn't Richard's.]