They Sicken of the Calm, Who Knew the Storm [END]

[Dark]

(( Dorothy Parker quotation. Yayz. A little too long to fit Fenrir's whole name, but I hope we all known what I meant. XP ))



Hadyn wasn't feeling particularly charitable at he shoved his way through the crowd, almost completely oblivious to the pained cries and angry curses that trailed behind him. He couldn't seem to get his life in order, and the way he was heading it didn't seem he would ever be able to manage.

He hadn't bothered his father with his troubles since he was eleven; he might love and respect the man, but Hadyn just couldn't stand any more speeches and well-meaning platitudes. They meant nothing out here in the real world.

Life was so much more simple when he'd been content with blowing the hell out of the neighbor's mailbox--fiery, booming perfection--but the high was too short and the euphoria of accomplishment faded into oblivion the moment the flames died down.

Maybe it was some inherit flaw in his character, but he'd never be content with creating things.

[fenrir]

Another horridly long day was coming to a close Marrok thought. Another long, monotonous day spent staring at a wheel barrel full of trash he wanted to pretend were high-end items and trinkets worthy of selling. "Selling" was a transaction he had not participated in in a full week. He wasn't sure how much more his lord would tolerate his constant failure.

The feline continued to push the wheel barrel down the road. He walked with his head between the handles. From the handles stretched to mucky, leather strands that tied to a harness he wore around his neck. It had been made for him in better times.

He passed the random crowds safely enough, or so he thought, until a figure shot out of the one in front of the deli that was closing. He could only gape as the multi-colored creature collided with him.

[Dark]

Hadyn's startled mewl as he went down in a tangle of limbs turned to a growl of frustration as he struggled for freedom. He finally attained a semblance of respectability, righting himself enough to be able to snarl effectively.

"Watch where you're going, Torq."

If he hadn't been in such a simmer all day, he might have refrained--he was in no position to pick a fight with someone of higher rank or a better-thought-after suit. He'd just done both, and he'd be lucky if he only got his ears boxed for such unbridled insolence.

Not wanting to cause a scene or draw a crowd--it wouldn't be good; not in the mood he was in today--he drew back and muttered a half-felt apology.

He risked a covert glance inside the man's container, resisting to comment on the state of his "merchandise."

[fenrir]

Momentarily everything was black, then Marrok was treated to a bug's eye view of the market. He could see feet mostly. Very few pointed towards him. Exactly, none rushing to help him collect himself. There were a few helping themselves to his stuff though. They didn't even do it with any haste. They leisurly picked up various items and walked off with them. Higher ranks no doubt. They even took his master's clothes that had been on the side of the cart.

Marrok let out a pitiful moan as he listened to whoever had ran into him get up. He missed the muffled the apology. Even if he was equal rank with the world's laziest thieves now walking off with his stuff, Marrok was no natural born fighter.

"Maybe I should stay down here. It's where my master will no doubt throw me. Out on the street." Marrok said. He rolled onto his side and turned his head to see just who had run him down. He was to depressed to be angry and suspected whoever it was probably more angry than he. Plus, the tight binding around his thigh and foot was cutting off circulation causing something like a buzz to flow though his blood stream and mellow his thinking.

[Dark]

Hadyn had always known Torquehelm to be an extremely depressing realm and its inhabits to be downright dreary, but this guy really took the cake. He was utterly pathetic.

He sneered as the feline simply sat there while pick-pockets materialized out of the crowd to snatch up the fallen goods--though why they would want such worthless rubbish Hadyn had no idea--and bemoaned his ill fortune.

Hadyn didn't know why it bothered him. It shouldn't. But the man's total unwillingness to stand up for himself was...irritating.

"Look at yourself, man. What do you think you're doing? Get up."

He slipped a paw under the man's arm and bodily hauled him up, shoving him out of the way of mainstream traffic and dragging the cart with him. The merchandise that had tumbled out was either gone or damaged, and he didn't bother himself with it.

"What is wrong with you?"

[fenrir]

"Wrong?" Marrok asked and almost followed up with a giggle. The stranger had just dragged him to the one side of the road. Whee! It had upped his buzz. He tried to focus on a response but only came up with two words.

"Vampiric butterfly." Yes. Those were the words he was looking for. At the moment anyway. Wait. He shook his head and tried again to focus. What had the man asked him? He looked around for a hint and saw familiar items resting in the road.

"Oh, cobblers!" Marrok cursed and covered his eyes. The question came back to him now. What is wrong with you?

"Ah yes. You see," Marrok began, "The problems is not so much me as it is those fellows who have helped themselves to my things after I was struck down." He talked as if it were happening to someone else. "The rise of crime is a common contributing factor to the fall of nations-" the cat continued to preach.

[Dark]

Vampiric butterfly?

Hadyn's ears twitched back in minor alarm, watching the feline's mouth move but not really registering the words spewing forth; he'd lost the thread of conversation at some point around when the Torque had started babbling about cobblers. Hadyn was still baffled how a shoemaker really related to the current topic, though he supposed it was slightly less preposterous than vampiric butterflies.

The feline wasn't only socially defunct--he was insane.

He interrupted the long, stale lecture on social structure with a non-too-subtle cough.

"Yes, well. It's been lovely talking, but I really must be going now," he made it about a half-a-step before whirling back around and jabbing a finger in the man's chest, "Have you ever considered actually doing something about these issues, instead of mopping about, bemoaning your fate?"

[fenrir]

Marrok was taken back by the question. The words of the other reminded him that he was actually taking to someone.

"Forgive me," Marrok said. Clarity returned to his eyes. "I've had these observations for so long I think they may get tangled up sometimes." His eyes were now distant and reflective. He thought of a few other times this had happened, not truly sure what brought on the fits but not too concerned at the moment.

He began righting his wheel barrel and looking over what little remained.

"What can anyone do with such low status?" Marrok said looking directly at the lower rank. "I could chase them down but honesty, by comparison, I may find better things to sell in those trash bins over there," he said and pointed with his head. "I should look for something warm to sleep on while I'm at it. I fear I may be out of home and job tonight. At least I may be able to sell this wheel barrel now that it no longer has any use to me." he grinned grimly.

[Dark]

The bloke really was crazy, but he didn't appear to be the type of crazy that was liable to pull a knife out randomly, and Hadyn felt himself pausing with a reluctant frown. He was a bastard, as his aunt had put so eloquently the other day, but he wasn't entirely heartless. Regardless of what he was told on a fairly regular basis. And regardless of the fact that the man's misfortune was almost entirely his own fault, Hadyn felt a sliver of pity.

He wasn't quite sure what possessed him, but he was suddenly offering for the feline to accompany him down the road to a curry stand. He could part with a few coin, play the good samarium, and continue along his way. It wasn't like he had anything else overly productive to do.

"It's really rather good, if you don't mind the heat."

[fenrir]

Marrok eyed the other suspiciously, but he headed over the curry stand as if an agreement had already been made. He paused as his wits finally returning and tried to draw up a conclusion as to why this stranger was being so kind.

Well he did have a hand in giving away my wonderful selection of stuff, Marrock rationalized. Besides, he had offered something Marrok hadn't had in a week. A good free meal.

Once they reached the stand Marrock felt a tinge of guilt. Here he was about to dine on a meal of hot meat and sauce while his lord and his lord's family were at home scrapping old cans. He considered trying to save some of the meal for them but one plate wasn't going to feed a small family. Once he started eating, however, there was no hope of saving any. He cleaned the plate in an instant and fought hard not to lick it clean and eat the plate as well. He didn't even think his companion had even begun eating. He imaged he must seem like just another poor, hungry peasant.

"Thank you for the meal sir. I am in your debt. I don't think I caught your name. Corvistowne right?" Marrok asked conversationally.