I Do Like Company [End]

[carcinoGeneticist]

The albino Boggie shifted, going to pick up the cup of coffee resting on the bench beside him as he flipped the last page of the newspaper.

It was taking some time to adjust to the pace of life here. Things moved far, far too quickly, and there seemed to be too many bodies in one place at one time. It was overwhelming, at first, and Howard had found it to be difficult to work up the energy even to go outside. Compared to the peaceful life he'd lead in the Mid-Range, this place was a warzone. But, he reflected, taking a slow sip of the slightly bitter drink and scanning the page, there was beauty here.

Love seemed to blossom everywhere he looked.

There, on the streetcorner, a beautiful maid called out to her beloved, beckoning him to join her for the night. A pair of young lovers spoke in hushed tones as they went down the street together, glancing furtively around as they went. No doubt, wedding plans were being made. Howard felt himself smile. The people here were so much more open about their romances than they had been in the Mid-Range, and it was refreshing to see. Granted, it did sometimes make him feel a bit lonely - but he was hardly one to begrudge others of their own loves. It made him happy to see how many others had found such completeness. One day, he would find that... He just couldn't rush things.

His attention went back to the page he'd been reading and as soon as it was finished, he refolded the paper. There was just a little bit of his coffee left, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with the rest of the day. Perhaps he'd walk in the park, or check out some of the shops in the Bazaar. Maybe he'd plan dinner in a nice little bistro. There were so many options.

His Father was the main goal, of course, but the Rat-hybrid was a firm believer in taking the time to get to know his surroundings. It was a beautiful day, and there was no sense in wasting it.

[The Jenn]

Spring in the Capital felt warmer than a summer heat wave in the Calloo. At least, it did when he was walking outside under the brilliant noonday sun in his robes and burner and... he felt about ready to melt out of his fur. How did people stand this on a daily basis, laborers and the like? And it was only going to get hotter? A weak of temperate spring weather had him thinking longingly of snow, which probably wasn't a very good thing. He had years to go before he could venture home for more than the occasional visit.

Really, he could understand why so many of his people traveled extensively in Sorgaire. The mountains would be much cooler. He couldn't even imagine a pilgrimate to the Hisstor in anything but the dead of winter, however much he dearly wished to visit the desert land and observe its inhabitants in their natural environment.

Many people seemed to agree that the Capital was the best place to start, though. Mamma told him he would gain an appreciation for the peace and piety of home, and he had, oh yes, within the first two days. Residents from Corvistowne skulked openly down the streets and thought nothing of shoving past or sitting next to an innocent bystander. He had nearly crawled out of his own skin when one of them accosted him out of an alley asking for change. The thing had objects jutting out of its skin that looked like they'd been put there. Even the memory made him shudder.

The city itself was overwhelming. Buildings everywhere, people everywhere, things happening at all hours of the day or night - he had never been more grateful for his enhanced Club ability. He hadn't slept for more than spurts since arriving in the Capital and it had begun to drag on his mind, though not terribly. Someone hadn't allowed him into an establishment at one point after he told them that he was a Three. That had shocked him more than almost anything else so far.

Rank was a status symbol here? Apparently. A very important one. He'd heard... but he hadn't really understood the significance. He honestly found it rather disturbing. If Odom didn't care then why should anyone else?

Almost dragging his feet, the rat realized that he needed to sit down soon or he would begin to suffer ill-effects from the warmth and his clothing and all of the walking he'd done that day. With a small groan, he detoured off the sidewalk and into one of the parks that littered the nicer areas of the city. This one was the largest by far, set apart by a very lovely fountain in its center. An unoccupied bench wasn't something he would find at this time of day and so he looked for one with an acceptable presence.

A Yarrow witch. A pair of Corvie youths. What looked to be a half-Tulgey. He grimaced and moved on, averting his eyes.

Kahmden, but the woman didn't look especially welcoming. Was that Torquehelm? Ah, but he was leaving and a couple was taking his place. And then there was the bench with the pale man on it, and he couldn't quite place the man's realm.

He didn't seem threatening. Was Tulgey responsible for his pale coloration? It didn't seem quite right. Were the Lowlands responsible for the purple slashes across his face? But that didn't make a great deal of sense either. Mmm. Curious now, as well as tired, he approached the man and stopped a polite distance away.

"Excuse me, sir, but is the seat beside you taken?" Obviously it wasn't. He just needed a quick gauge of the man's hostility level.

[carcinoGeneticist]

Deep in his consideration of both the remainder of his drink and of what he was going to do with himself, Howard was utterly oblivious to the Calloo man's approach until the Rat was upon him with a polite request. The hybrid raised his head, a wide and welcoming smile already in place upon his face. Just as his own realm was not recognized by Vanja, Howard was at a loss as to exactly what the man in front of him might have been. Perhaps some sort of mix between Tulgey and Torquehelm, but something in that just didn't sit right. The tones were wrong for it, especially in the colors of his white.

But that was not important! What the poor man was, it seemed, was overheating and in need of a rest!

"Oh! No, not at all![/b]" As he replied, the man scooted over, providing even more space on the side of the bench, tucking his folded newspaper under his arm. "Please, make yourself comfortable.[/b]" That smile of his only widened.

What a polite stranger, this odd mix was! In all his time in the Capital, which wasn't very long, Howard had found a disturbing lack of respect for personal space. People threw themselves at others with an alarming frequency, and though the Bog-mix himself did not mind too terribly, it was still a welcome change of pace to have someone actually request to sit beside him on a bench. There was, of course, the question of why this man had wanted to sit next to him, but that -- No. Things aren't always like that, the rational part of his brain reminded the irrational part, and that part stopped its musings at least for the time being.

After finishing the last sip of coffee, Howard glanced back at the stranger, a sympathetic smile on his face. "The name's Howard,[/b]" he offered, along with a hand to be shaken. "Are you new to the Capital?[/b]"

[The Jenn]

Well, the man seemed friendly enough at a glance. Impressions could be deceiving, as he noted disturbingly often when surruptitiously watching the Corvies go about their business, but this seemed a very pleasant sort of smile. He felt somewhat relieved. No closer to placing his realm or mix, but still. It was interesting to see another rat, for all that the man seemed to be mixed. Feline? Probably.

"Thank you," he murmured in assent, deciding to take the chance. What sort of missionary would he be if he didn't take a chance on someone every now and again? He'd been more focused on settling in than explaining his faith this past week, which seemed a much more daunting task now that he was faced with the overwhelming apathy of these people in person. Perhaps this could be a useful conversation.

And another strangeness - the persistent lack of a family name during introductions. He held out his hand politely, having been instructed in that custom, and shook with a light grip. "Very good to meet you, Howard. Vanja Lacković, though you may call me Vanja if you prefer. I am new, though. Very. Does it stand out so much?" He knew that he carried a distinct accent from his home realm, which had merited one or two curious looks when he spoke. His robes and incense burner seemed to garner more. Already he felt better for sitting just a moment with the familiar weight on his back.

[carcinoGeneticist]

There was a momentary blush that passed over the man's pale cheeks before it was stifled. He just -- he couldn't help himself sometimes, and he wondered why it was that the Rat had decided to sit on this bench, next to Howard himself. He knew that it was likely just coincidence, but he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was another reason for it. After all, there were other benches nearby, one occupied by a Corvistowne mix, that the man had breezed right past. He'd actually walked further just to sit next to Howard. With how overheated the man looked, that must have been noteworthy.

Right?

Howard pushed those nagging little questions aside for the time being, focusing instead on the actual company of the man rather than its potential implications. He spoke with a strong, unfamiliar aspect, one that had an odd music to it. "Vanja? A pleasure indeed.[/b]" The name was odd, too, and he wondered how it might have been spelled, in the Common tongue. "And only a bit. I've actually only been here a few weeks, myself, so I've tried to figure out ways to peg a fellow newcomer. This place can be a bit... overwhelming, and a lot of the natives don't understand why I'm feeling so overwhelmed.[/b]" He chuckled, looking a bit embarrassed.

The curiosity was too great, and Howard turned to face the stranger head-on, head still angled thoughtfully. "I don't recognize your coloration - if it isn't too forward of me, where are you new from?[/b]"

[The Jenn]

A smile flitted across Vanja's muzzle. "I can understand why. I'm feeling it myself, quite strongly. I've been here for just a little over a week and it still feels like I know absolutely nothing about this place or the people in it." The cultural isolation he felt from everyone around him didn't particularly help with that. He missed his family, missed group prayers, missed the peace he didn't realize he had.

He just needed time, he was sure. Things would begin to make more sense with time. Things like... how anyone could look at him and not recognize his realm. The first time someone referred to him as a mix from the Tulgey and Torquehelm, he'd nearly yelled. But he hadn't.

"I actually hail from the Calloo Fjords. We're located to the east of the Selkie Lakes, where the lands begin to chill and the snows fall more heavily." He regarded the man with tired, skeptical eyes. "How is it that so few people here can recognize one of us on sight? We release missionaries on a regular basis."

Although to be fair, he hadn't run into another one of his people yet in the Capital beyond the man his mother had directed him towards for housing. That fact hadn't really sunk in before now, not properly.

"And... and you. Please, Howard. Please tell me that you don't hail from the Tulgey Wood." Or an even more horrible thought which struck him - a mix of the Tulgey and the Yarrow. Oh, gods. If that was the case, it would make a great deal of sense as to the man's disposition, now wouldn't it? Yellows, purples, that pale mane... and perhaps Yarrow could have diluted the undercoat with a pale cream.

[carcinoGeneticist]

There was relief in finding a kindred soul here, someone who understood the bizarre isolation that could come from being in a place as full of people as this one. The number of people mattered little, in the long run. If none of them were familiar, none of them known, it was possible to feel completely alone even when the world was full of busy life all around. "Suits, I had begun to think I was the only person who felt that way. I'm very glad that you decided to sit on my bench,[/b]" Howard laughed, finally beginning to feel slightly more at-ease.

Well. He was, at least, until the next statement. The Calloo? Now that he thought about it, he had heard of the realm once or twice, generally in school. Whether or not he'd actually seen someone from that Realm... That was an entirely different matter, and his ignorance was his own fault. He ducked his head, clearly embarrassed. "Of course, I should have known... Please forgive my ignorance, I actually...[/b]" He cleared his throat, straightened ever so slightly, and tried to summon up the words he needed to explain himself. "I... grew up in a very remote corner of the Mid-Range. I'd never even seen a Torque in the flesh before coming here. I was the only person for miles around who wasn't pure Mid-Range.[/b]"

When speaking of his home, and his own realm differences, there was a hint of... something in Howard's voice. It wasn't exactly anger or spite, but it was a displeasure that the Vanja would be sure to pick up on. The hybrid scratched the back of his head, then shrugged lightly, casting that thought aside. When his own heritage was questioned after, the man's smile returned, but it was smaller this time. This was a line of questioning that he was used to!

"Ahh... No, I'm not Tulgey.[/b]" His tail twitched, settling into a more relaxed position, and he leaned back. "I'm actually... A Raemblen, if you can believe it. Occasionally, those from the Bog are born with white coats. So there you have it![/b]"

[The Jenn]

Another smile, this one lasting slightly longer. "As am I." Vanja found himself grateful for the conversation, too. It felt good to be able to just sit down and talk to someone again. Few people in this city seemed interested in striking up a casual dialogue, which he had begun to understand after he was further educated on the dangers of the place. From what one police officer said after he'd caught them on their rounds, there seemed to be a scam artist or child kidnapper around every corner. It had left him with a very paranoid night ahead of him.

"The Mid-Range? That's- that's another culture again, isn't it? I certainly wouldn't have guessed." So the man was a likely not only spiritually misguided, but a true heathen. Such a shame. Unless his home culture dissatisfied him... was that why he had left? Come to the city? His tone of voice indicated something amiss, but he certainly couldn't tell what. "I saw very few outsiders myself before coming here. We bring them in, but not in anything like the numbers you find in this place."

And he wasn't a Tulgey. Oh, thank the gods. Something in the rat's posture relaxed minutely, though his expression slowly became... puzzled. "The Raemblen? I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that you now have me on a point of ignorance. I've never heard of that realm before. You're a pure realm? What colors are you normally found in, if you don't mind my asking?" Had he seen more of the realm without realizing or correctly identifying them? His mind scrambled back, but there had been so many people swimming past his eyes in the last week that he simply didn't know.

[carcinoGeneticist]

A slight nod of his head was given in reply. It was indeed another culture, one which had... Odd stances, when it came to Outsiders. It had never fully sunken in exactly how differently Howard had been treated until his mother's untimely death. Without her protection, the world had changed - or perhaps he had just finally been able to see it fully.

There was a lot of history there, a lot that he could get into, but Howard did not want to bore Vanja, not when he was the first person who he'd really had a good conversation with since leaving his childhood home. "It can get a bit.... overwhelming, can't it? The pure Realms alone are a lot of color to take in, growing up surrounded by shades of gray, and the mixes![/b]" He blushed suddenly, looking down at his hands. "There's a lot of beauty here, but I have to admit - sometimes the colors all blur to my eyes. I hope that once I adjust to it all, I have better luck with identifying the individuals.[/b]"

How strange it was that one in black and white would be so striking to Howard's eyes. It seemed like a step in the right direction, with regards to adjusting to the variation in the world.

The next question was also a familiar one, and Howard's smile relaxed further. His mother had even been puzzled by her son's Realm, and it was only through the research she'd done as an infant that he knew anything at all. Life would have been much easier, had the world not forced his father away from them... "It's not a problem in the slightest. Few know of the realm - from what I understand, my Grandmother was one of the first to enter the public eye on a large scale.[/b]" This was based on what he was able to piece together about the Court of Hearts, about his family. There wasn't a lot of information that had been available to him, granted, but... it was a start. "It's located behind the Wall, between Tulgey and the Golfam. Not... the most pleasant of places. Generally, Raemblens have a brown base, but the markings are the same as mine. My mane's a little washed-out, too, but I hear that's another gift of my father's.[/b]" He smiled, shrugged, and then laughed.

"...Truth be told, I've never actually seen a normally-colored Boggie. Or another albino. So this is all just based on rumor.[/b]"

[The Jenn]

"There are actually enough other realms in the Fjords to be noteworthy," Vanja commented with shift of his body, tails finally finding a comfortable position out the back of the bench and relaxing on the shaded stone behind it. "More here, obviously, but a lot of our people bring back converts and mates from other realms who have come to see the truth of the gods. I can recognize most realms on sight and understand their languages in writing, though the speech is beyond me."

When Howard began to explain his realm's origins, the rat couldn't help but be startled. "Between Tulgey and Golfam? No wonder your people separated themselves. Also not surprising that I wouldn't have heard of you. Most of the resources I used in studying the outside regions was dated by several decades. In some cases, centuries. Our missionaries bring back what they can, but some things manage to slip through the cracks."

Brown. The people were brown, and this man bore white fur? "You and your father must have been quite blessed," he mused. "The word for 'albino' in my people's tongue is very similar to the word for 'fortunate'."