[Give him a moment to reach up and tousle his own hair, just a bit, to give himself a more windswept and excitable novice look, like he's already been running around doing who knows what that he shouldn't have been. He can affect the harmlessly curious newcomer bit easily enough, but all the little details help.
He flashes her a quick grin.]
The same to you, of course. And good luck!
[And then he's off, to do a brief loop back before he starts approaching people in earnest, just in case anyone had spotted the two of them arriving together to this part of the street. It is easy to get the locals to speak, he finds, if less so to get much out of most than the "oh no, not after dark, find your way indoors by then" speech. The biggest problem seems to be a vague kind of indifference, but after waking up unattended in a fucking coffin, he isn't surprised by that.
It's not impossible to glean a few bigger morsels of information, though, including having to insistently turn down one offer to escort him around in exchange for money he simply doesn't have—and by the end of the specified hour he's made his way back. This time, instead of a steaming mug, he's got some kind of a steaming paper bag... There's always something.
This, he holds out when Neve makes her own return.]
It isn't coffee, but it's some kind of a... sweet cheese bun? It's fresh.
[ That is commitment to the bit and, frankly, she's impressed. It's not a common occurrence to have someone be willing to help her, let alone to really push the extra mile. Brom, definitely. Rana, sometimes. Rook... Well. It's a breath of fresh air. The moment's flicker of incredulity is swept away by an easy smile as he leaves, and Neve lifts her hand to bid him luck as he goes.
Now, it's time to do her part.
The hour gives her plenty to work with. No small few amounts of people are willing to speak about the dangers in terms of warnings, each of them offering some variation of assurance that there's nothing out at night that'll be worth the trouble. It's saccharine at times, always a bit shallow. It's not scripted necessarily; there's enough deviation and something resembling concern that she doesn't think it's faked. But there's no real impetus for anyone to offer her a real reason as to why she should stay in. In fact, most of them just play up the fact that she's clearly new, so it just would be dangerous in and of itself.
It's not what she wants, really.
But there are little kernels of info, too, that she can glimmer from people: little bits of likes and personalities, names, where they seem to frequent. Easy conversation, and now they know her face enough to know she has a kind heart to be curious even if they might think her a bit of a busybody for asking.
When she swings back, she does stop by a little coffee shop to grab two small cups, which she has when she arrives back at the meeting place just a minute or two after him. And with a smile, she offers one to trade. ]
Kind of you. Come on, the tavern's not far. We can talk on the way and put our notes in order. [ Proverbial notes, though she has a pen and paper stashed in her pocket where she's written down a few minor things - names of streets, things she wouldn't remember.
She sniffs at the bun as she goes, then takes a healthy drink of her coffee. ] Let me guess: a lot of people are very concerned that you should be outside after dark, but not many have good reasons why.
[Oho, the perfect trade. He accepts the coffee with a little hum of thanks, falling into step with her to head for the tavern. He's fixed his hair since mussing it up before, so now they are just two perfectly ordinary new arrivals on a walk.]
Oh, yes, I'm in incredible danger if I so much as think too loudly about going out after dark.
[He wiggles his fingers over the side of the coffee cup, for emphasis. It's taking a shot at the kind of response his commitment to the bit got, even if he did it on purpose, but it is what it is: no, no, he's far too new and helpless-looking, he should stay indoors! Find that inn the newcomers all settle in, stay there, eat some stew or whatever.
Very quaint.]
From what I've been told, the base rumor about danger after dark has nothing to do with the coffins, can you believe that? I didn't know where to put myself. I asked a young man so confidently about it that he laughed!
[He shakes his head; maybe he should have put himself right back into the coffin? God. But that's worth knowing, even if it raises a few more insane questions.]
[ He garners a little smile of sympathy for his trouble. ]
Well, there was no good way of bringing those up without sounding at least a bit strange. But he didn't even have the sense to react to it negatively. [ Interesting. ] I received a lot of similar feedback. So they're terrified about something that doesn't involve the coffins - and they don't seem particularly concerned about the latter.
[ Like they don't even exist to them, or they're so old hat that it doesn't matter. She doesn't know what connection she wants to draw from that, so she lets it be for the moment. Neve takes a longer sip of her drink, considering. ]
It's not a solid conclusion, but we can at least surmise that the danger at night is external: something they don't have control over and something they have an active interest in, unlike the coffins.
[ Neve doesn't fully believe the coffin problem is caused by the common person. It's more that these nighttime issues are more of a tangible threat than random coffins and people in the streets. And perhaps that's a good gauge of what that danger should mean...but she isn't sold on that, not completely. ]
Did you get the impression that people seemed perturbed by friction? Almost as if they wanted to go back to their day-to-day and ignore any deviation as soon as possible?
[With the bun halfway to his mouth he pivots instead to gesturing with it, a gesture meant to say something like Yes! and At least pretend!— truly, he will never recover from having a stranger laugh at him about his completely normal theories.
No, he will, but he revels in the opportunity to ham it up, just a bit. Then he chews a bite of the sweet bun, listening to her conclusions, nodding along.]
I do, yes. Further, they seem unwilling to speak to us, in particular— the newcomers. Taking a moment to eavesdrop on a pair of older shoppers, they were all too content to trade hushed whispers about whose child was fool enough to go out after dark until they noticed me, nearby. Then it was dark looks and something about the weather.
[And yet a fascinating data point, all the same: the locals bear some kind of hostility towards them, and yet, they aren't completely willing to let them all wander into the hungry dark. Interesting.]
Well, I only want to see what's out there at night even more, unfortunately.
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expiationlogs2024-12-09 08:17 am
no subject
He flashes her a quick grin.]
The same to you, of course. And good luck!
[And then he's off, to do a brief loop back before he starts approaching people in earnest, just in case anyone had spotted the two of them arriving together to this part of the street. It is easy to get the locals to speak, he finds, if less so to get much out of most than the "oh no, not after dark, find your way indoors by then" speech. The biggest problem seems to be a vague kind of indifference, but after waking up unattended in a fucking coffin, he isn't surprised by that.
It's not impossible to glean a few bigger morsels of information, though, including having to insistently turn down one offer to escort him around in exchange for money he simply doesn't have—and by the end of the specified hour he's made his way back. This time, instead of a steaming mug, he's got some kind of a steaming paper bag... There's always something.
This, he holds out when Neve makes her own return.]
It isn't coffee, but it's some kind of a... sweet cheese bun? It's fresh.
[Have a bun, let's chat.]
no subject
Now, it's time to do her part.
The hour gives her plenty to work with. No small few amounts of people are willing to speak about the dangers in terms of warnings, each of them offering some variation of assurance that there's nothing out at night that'll be worth the trouble. It's saccharine at times, always a bit shallow. It's not scripted necessarily; there's enough deviation and something resembling concern that she doesn't think it's faked. But there's no real impetus for anyone to offer her a real reason as to why she should stay in. In fact, most of them just play up the fact that she's clearly new, so it just would be dangerous in and of itself.
It's not what she wants, really.
But there are little kernels of info, too, that she can glimmer from people: little bits of likes and personalities, names, where they seem to frequent. Easy conversation, and now they know her face enough to know she has a kind heart to be curious even if they might think her a bit of a busybody for asking.
When she swings back, she does stop by a little coffee shop to grab two small cups, which she has when she arrives back at the meeting place just a minute or two after him. And with a smile, she offers one to trade. ]
Kind of you. Come on, the tavern's not far. We can talk on the way and put our notes in order. [ Proverbial notes, though she has a pen and paper stashed in her pocket where she's written down a few minor things - names of streets, things she wouldn't remember.
She sniffs at the bun as she goes, then takes a healthy drink of her coffee. ] Let me guess: a lot of people are very concerned that you should be outside after dark, but not many have good reasons why.
no subject
Oh, yes, I'm in incredible danger if I so much as think too loudly about going out after dark.
[He wiggles his fingers over the side of the coffee cup, for emphasis. It's taking a shot at the kind of response his commitment to the bit got, even if he did it on purpose, but it is what it is: no, no, he's far too new and helpless-looking, he should stay indoors! Find that inn the newcomers all settle in, stay there, eat some stew or whatever.
Very quaint.]
From what I've been told, the base rumor about danger after dark has nothing to do with the coffins, can you believe that? I didn't know where to put myself. I asked a young man so confidently about it that he laughed!
[He shakes his head; maybe he should have put himself right back into the coffin? God. But that's worth knowing, even if it raises a few more insane questions.]
no subject
Well, there was no good way of bringing those up without sounding at least a bit strange. But he didn't even have the sense to react to it negatively. [ Interesting. ] I received a lot of similar feedback. So they're terrified about something that doesn't involve the coffins - and they don't seem particularly concerned about the latter.
[ Like they don't even exist to them, or they're so old hat that it doesn't matter. She doesn't know what connection she wants to draw from that, so she lets it be for the moment. Neve takes a longer sip of her drink, considering. ]
It's not a solid conclusion, but we can at least surmise that the danger at night is external: something they don't have control over and something they have an active interest in, unlike the coffins.
[ Neve doesn't fully believe the coffin problem is caused by the common person. It's more that these nighttime issues are more of a tangible threat than random coffins and people in the streets. And perhaps that's a good gauge of what that danger should mean...but she isn't sold on that, not completely. ]
Did you get the impression that people seemed perturbed by friction? Almost as if they wanted to go back to their day-to-day and ignore any deviation as soon as possible?
no subject
No, he will, but he revels in the opportunity to ham it up, just a bit. Then he chews a bite of the sweet bun, listening to her conclusions, nodding along.]
I do, yes. Further, they seem unwilling to speak to us, in particular— the newcomers. Taking a moment to eavesdrop on a pair of older shoppers, they were all too content to trade hushed whispers about whose child was fool enough to go out after dark until they noticed me, nearby. Then it was dark looks and something about the weather.
[And yet a fascinating data point, all the same: the locals bear some kind of hostility towards them, and yet, they aren't completely willing to let them all wander into the hungry dark. Interesting.]
Well, I only want to see what's out there at night even more, unfortunately.