"...well, it doesn't do anything. It's a carving, a totem. It's the representation of an ancient god. Maturin the turtle that carries the world on its shell."
The carving itself wasn't magic, but had been touched by it. Faint traces of All-World magic clung to it still.
"And it comes from a place now gone, hand carved by a master now dead. That's gotta be worth sommat, aye?"
He tapped his jaw, reaching out to invite himself to pick it up and turn it over in his hands.
"If it doesn't do anything...I can't t-trade with you. Because my grass absolutely does something. No offence, but you coulda gotten this thing in a flea market. Now if it were magic..."
"I don't truck with magic," Bert responded with a shake of his head. Alright, so this fellow was In the Know. That changed things. He had been made. But it didn't look as though this was an agent of the Red. He sounded more like some world wandering merchant.
What an interesting evening this was turning out to be.
"Don't really trust it. Oh, wait, you want magic mescaline? I've got magic mescaline."
And no use for it, these days. He didn't know the spirits of this world, or what other places brushed close enough to touch its borders. He wasn't about to risk any out of body spirit journeys in this mad place.
"Yeh can talk to demons and the dead and whatnot. Makes yeh puke sommat awful after, but it's worth it."
He was glad this guy wasn't giving him the skeptic eye. That made transactions a whole lot smoother. He didn't have to pull any flashy tricks to make a believer out of him.
"I understand...but I don't really want to talk to demons, thanks. What about you though? Got any...teeth you don't want? A talent you could give up? Your middle name? I can get you more than a t-teabag."
"...you mean something that is uniquely and intrinsically mine?" Bert raised an eyebrow and lit up a cigarette.
Well now. Not Red, but not White either.
Prim aligned, mayhap? Not good or evil, but simply adhering to mild chaos...
It didn't matter either way. The gunslinger shook his head, lips pursed and chuckling faintly. Oh gods, what a night.
"Sai, I have been called a fool more times than I've been called my own name, but e'en I know not to trade away those things that'd give another power o'er me."
Hmmm. Maybe he wasn't as much of a sucker as he originally thought. Roman rubbed his chin scruff and looked at the turtle a little longer before shrugging and jotting down a deal. Plain and simple, no tricks.
"C-cash it is, then. I'm bored and there are mosquitoes. Let's blow this place."
Bert slipped his totem back into its pouch and packed up his gunna proper once more. He had no real plans. He just wandered, seeing where life and the roads took him. He did odd jobs, he borrowed from folks that could afford to be borrowed from, and he tried to learn all the ways of this world.
He spun the clipboard around and showed Bert where to sign his name.
"Roman." He kept himself from snorting at his name. Bert. What a great English name. It's like he just stepped out of Marry Poppins or something. That painted the mental image of Bert doing the chimney sweep dance while still wearing his cowboy getup and Roman stared into space watching it.
Bert signed where indicated, in flourishing old fashioned script, curious about this Roman fellow he'd fallen into company with. This was what his life had become, simply wandering and meeting folks, but it was rare he met those who understood the grand design.
It was nice. He didn't have to watch his words or hastily explain some mention of other worldly things. He was thought mad enough as it was, even when he was being careful.
Roman watches the fancy script appear with great interest. Wow. What was this guy? Once the deal was signed, Bert's signature gave off the smell of rotten eggs. The boy with the bag looked it over, nodded to himself, and reached into his backpack only to produce a whopping ziplock bag.
Did he use up a little extra juice to produce that? You bet he did. This guy was the most interesting thing he'd seen in ages and Roman wanted to see just how long this 'date' of theirs would go on.
Bert's grin was a wide one as he took the bag. This world was full of intoxicants and inebriations, but he'd always preferred the mild effects of the mota leaf. Which oddly enough was called 'weed' here, which back in In-World was a terrible poisonous purple sort of scrub grass.
"So you always hang about general market lots, trying to sell things to folks who wander by?"
Roman stood and leaned down to brush his knees off.
"I go wherever there are people who need things. Sometimes they just don't know it yet."
When he straightened back up he cast a long look down either direction of the Crossroads. Too bad for any other needy souls that were to show up tonight.
"Oh do you? And how do you ken where that is? And who?"
Bert's tone was amiable still, but curious, as his hands settled in his pockets and he rocked on the heels of his worn down boots. Just how magic was this fellow? And where were they headed? Not that he didn't think he could handle himself if the situation went horrible, but he had always been a curious sort.
"Got yourself a seeing stone?"
Oh gods, Bert hoped not. Those things were nothing but trouble.
The boy with the sandy hair just flashed Bert another grin. He liked those precious few hours where he was just getting to know someone and he was able to remain somewhat mysterious.
"It's a secret."
Your secrets are better off publicly posted on Facebook than told to Roman Gulliver.
Bert's grin only widened. A secret. He loved to puzzle out secrets.
"Alright." He nodded once, a spark coming to his dark eyes. If there was one thing Cuthbert Allgood knew how to do - besides ruthless slaughter - it was show folks a good time.
Roman's brows sprang up and for just a moment, his face blanched.
Well. This escalated quickly. At first he didn't seem move at all because in his mind he was gesturing with his tail. Which was invisible. He quickly shook himself and jerked his thumb westwards where some dark low shapes huddled on the horizon.
"Right-o!" Bert laughed and headed off in the indicated direction, pack slung over his shoulder.
"Let's find ourselves a clearing and have a bit of fun! Yeh like jerky? I got loads of jerky."
He had no idea what his unexpected companion had in mind, but Bert still clung to familiar ways, even in this vastly different world. That meant bonfires in the forest when it came time for revelry. Especially with some herb in his pocket.
By the time they found the treeline, it was properly dark. The only light came from the moon overhead and the phantom glare of the roadside stop in the distance. These woods were pine with low brush and ditches where roads once ran.
As they walked, Roman was trying to sort himself out because he wasn't exactly good at keeping his disguise solid when he started doing down and dirty devil business. Should he come up with an excuse? Should he trust the night? Sure his Halley's Comet of a boyfriend didn't care but it was sort of hard to bring up 'hey how do you feel about demonic invasion' on the first meeting.
"Early dark, just waking up...bet they're all out hunting their breakfasts!" Bert's teeth were startling white in the dim as he flashed his smile at Roman. He ducked into the woods with a little waggle of his eyebrows, more at ease in the trees and brush than he was on the side of an American road.
He ambled easily through the wild till he found a clearing, just as he'd wanted. His curiosity about his current companion only grew as they walked into the night. Where did he come from? What manner of man (or what-have-you) was he?
"This is the hour all the predators start to stir."
Roman hoped for his own sake that his eyes weren't doing the cat-in-headlights thing. That smile did startle him but it excited him too. Whatever world he walked out of must have had really great dental care.
The demon in disguise inspected the clearing, shrugging off his bag again and gathering up sticks to get them out of the way. The last thing you wanted was a pine twig in your ear.
"Oh aye." Bert winked as he set his pack down and set to building a fire ring. Get a good fire going and a couple of fellows could manage all the fun they needed.
"My da always said I was a dog, but I ask you this! What is a dog but a wolf that loves mankind?"
"What a kind thing t-to say," said Roman sarcastically. He didn't remember much about his mother for the time being, but he was pretty sure she'd never call him a dog. And now came the issue of a fire. While Bert was working with the kindling, Roman silently warred with himself.
Did he want to show off?
...
He wanted to show off. He grabbed up a stick and hurled it into the woods so that it crashed against the underbrush.
"Not scared of beasties, are yeh?" Bert glanced up with a waggle of his eyebrows. He was nearly done with his work, and when he'd laid the last bit of wood and stone he sat back on his haunches with another wide grin.
"I'll have yeh know, I'm quite adept at fending off all manner of beastie. You're entirely safe with me." A pause. "Well, from beasties, anyhow."
He was reasonably certain the fellow had been flirting earlier.
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theattic2014-11-09 07:23 pm
no subject
The carving itself wasn't magic, but had been touched by it. Faint traces of All-World magic clung to it still.
"And it comes from a place now gone, hand carved by a master now dead. That's gotta be worth sommat, aye?"
no subject
"If it doesn't do anything...I can't t-trade with you. Because my grass absolutely does something. No offence, but you coulda gotten this thing in a flea market. Now if it were magic..."
no subject
What an interesting evening this was turning out to be.
"Don't really trust it. Oh, wait, you want magic mescaline? I've got magic mescaline."
And no use for it, these days. He didn't know the spirits of this world, or what other places brushed close enough to touch its borders. He wasn't about to risk any out of body spirit journeys in this mad place.
"Yeh can talk to demons and the dead and whatnot. Makes yeh puke sommat awful after, but it's worth it."
no subject
"I understand...but I don't really want to talk to demons, thanks. What about you though? Got any...teeth you don't want? A talent you could give up? Your middle name? I can get you more than a t-teabag."
no subject
Well now. Not Red, but not White either.
Prim aligned, mayhap? Not good or evil, but simply adhering to mild chaos...
It didn't matter either way. The gunslinger shook his head, lips pursed and chuckling faintly. Oh gods, what a night.
"Sai, I have been called a fool more times than I've been called my own name, but e'en I know not to trade away those things that'd give another power o'er me."
no subject
"C-cash it is, then. I'm bored and there are mosquitoes. Let's blow this place."
no subject
Bert slipped his totem back into its pouch and packed up his gunna proper once more. He had no real plans. He just wandered, seeing where life and the roads took him. He did odd jobs, he borrowed from folks that could afford to be borrowed from, and he tried to learn all the ways of this world.
"I'm Bert, by the way. Bert Allgood."
no subject
"Roman." He kept himself from snorting at his name. Bert. What a great English name. It's like he just stepped out of Marry Poppins or something. That painted the mental image of Bert doing the chimney sweep dance while still wearing his cowboy getup and Roman stared into space watching it.
no subject
It was nice. He didn't have to watch his words or hastily explain some mention of other worldly things. He was thought mad enough as it was, even when he was being careful.
"There we are! Pleasure to meet yeh, Roman-sai."
no subject
Did he use up a little extra juice to produce that? You bet he did. This guy was the most interesting thing he'd seen in ages and Roman wanted to see just how long this 'date' of theirs would go on.
"Was a pleasure."
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Bert's grin was a wide one as he took the bag. This world was full of intoxicants and inebriations, but he'd always preferred the mild effects of the mota leaf. Which oddly enough was called 'weed' here, which back in In-World was a terrible poisonous purple sort of scrub grass.
"So you always hang about general market lots, trying to sell things to folks who wander by?"
no subject
"I go wherever there are people who need things. Sometimes they just don't know it yet."
When he straightened back up he cast a long look down either direction of the Crossroads. Too bad for any other needy souls that were to show up tonight.
no subject
Bert's tone was amiable still, but curious, as his hands settled in his pockets and he rocked on the heels of his worn down boots. Just how magic was this fellow? And where were they headed? Not that he didn't think he could handle himself if the situation went horrible, but he had always been a curious sort.
"Got yourself a seeing stone?"
Oh gods, Bert hoped not. Those things were nothing but trouble.
no subject
"It's a secret."
Your secrets are better off publicly posted on Facebook than told to Roman Gulliver.
"Now show me a good time."
no subject
"Alright." He nodded once, a spark coming to his dark eyes. If there was one thing Cuthbert Allgood knew how to do - besides ruthless slaughter - it was show folks a good time.
"Where's the nearest woods?"
no subject
Well. This escalated quickly. At first he didn't seem move at all because in his mind he was gesturing with his tail. Which was invisible. He quickly shook himself and jerked his thumb westwards where some dark low shapes huddled on the horizon.
"Good thing it's not chigger season, I guess."
no subject
"Let's find ourselves a clearing and have a bit of fun! Yeh like jerky? I got loads of jerky."
He had no idea what his unexpected companion had in mind, but Bert still clung to familiar ways, even in this vastly different world. That meant bonfires in the forest when it came time for revelry. Especially with some herb in his pocket.
no subject
As they walked, Roman was trying to sort himself out because he wasn't exactly good at keeping his disguise solid when he started doing down and dirty devil business. Should he come up with an excuse? Should he trust the night? Sure his Halley's Comet of a boyfriend didn't care but it was sort of hard to bring up 'hey how do you feel about demonic invasion' on the first meeting.
"No owls out t-tonight. Huh."
no subject
He ambled easily through the wild till he found a clearing, just as he'd wanted. His curiosity about his current companion only grew as they walked into the night. Where did he come from? What manner of man (or what-have-you) was he?
"This is the hour all the predators start to stir."
no subject
The demon in disguise inspected the clearing, shrugging off his bag again and gathering up sticks to get them out of the way. The last thing you wanted was a pine twig in your ear.
"Us included?" He put on his smirk again.
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"My da always said I was a dog, but I ask you this! What is a dog but a wolf that loves mankind?"
no subject
Did he want to show off?
...
He wanted to show off. He grabbed up a stick and hurled it into the woods so that it crashed against the underbrush.
"Oh, fuck, what was that?"
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His head came up at the sound, and he glanced at his companion, bent over the rapidly growing fire pit. His body tensed.
"Night beasty, I wot." His sling was in his back pocket.
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"Hah, yeah...I wot."
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"I'll have yeh know, I'm quite adept at fending off all manner of beastie. You're entirely safe with me." A pause. "Well, from beasties, anyhow."
He was reasonably certain the fellow had been flirting earlier.
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