|
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 12, 2013 9:32:48 GMT
 REMEMBER THE GOLD RUSH ❀ |
surprisingly enough, the things that come out of mika's cooking pot are barely edible, but just barely. his momma used to joke that she would be mika's only source of home cooking until he found a nice girl from the village.
she wasn't far from the truth. her son could prepare food so that it was safe to eat, but making something that others would want to eat wasn't exactly his field of expertise.
which is why he is standing here in the market today, his sweat beating back the poisonous rays of the sun.
mika carefully selects one of the reddest peaches and feels for its firmness gently. it is soft enough to be considered ripe, but not so much that mika suspects that it has been sitting in the sun for too long. that would defy the point of going out to buy zhenya something sweet for lunch.
he drops the peach into his paper bag under the watchful eye of the vendor. mika reaches out for another peach - two ought to be enough - and something squeezes his shoulder rather firmly.
the surprise is enough for mika to bruise the second peach. he supposes that he will have to eat that one.
he calmly turns to the man who is touching his shoulder without permission.
"...you are going to have to wait your turn to buy peaches" mika's expression is deadly calm and his muscles relaxed, but his mind is seething. "mister"
"don't be like that" the amount if gold that hangs around his neck is a testament to both his wealth and stupidity. what a naive, prodigal son to think that no one would dare rob him in the middle of an open market - ah, there's the guard, babysitting his little duckling. "why settle for peaches?"
the only reason why mika pays the man any mind is to make sure that he doesn't do anything stupid. he's already caused mika to bruise one fruit, after all. "...i want to buy two peaches"
it's a warning for those who would heed it.
"excuse my directness, but don't you think that you..." he cups mika's face with one of his hands. "...rather lack perspective?"
his arrogance could almost be called stifling, if mika cared to acknowledge it.
mika wonders if he's quick enough to reach for his knives before the rather muscular babysitter can react. probably so, but he's not into attracting the attention of the mercenary police, however. especially not ones that could be easily bribed.
he wonders if the man would accept a cup of poisoned juice. the gold around his neck ought to be plenty compensation for his time.
@nate
|
LAIKA OF GS!
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2013 0:04:47 GMT
I'm here to work, I'm not here to fuck around  He remembers coming here to eat. That was his express intent upon leaving the tavern he was currently staying. There was only so many times a man could down turkey legs and beef broth before he wanted to expand his diet. Even a man who was so committed to a spartan lifestyle as much as he needed some variety for the palette. He was no chef, but if given the right ingredients, Echion was more than capable of constructing a worthwhile meal.
He strong-arms his way through the teeming mass of market-goers, the sun beaming down on them all. Merchants chant and call out to passerby, asserting the quality of their wares while some haggled with shoppers over all manners of strange items. A more city-friendly individual would take a sort of pleasure in the bustling nature of it all, but Echion bore no such pleasure. The constant shoving against him, people ramming past his shoulder as if offended by the notion of him being even slightly in their trajectory, the cacophony of screaming voices, it all blended together in an aural assault built to drive the blacksmith's boy nuts.
Once again thankful for being larger than most, he easily drove a wedge through the crowd and towards the more food-oriented portion of the market. Foods of varying colors and shapes leaped out at him, some recognizable and others foreign. He occasionally stopped at a stand and stared at it's wares intently, sea-green eyes boring holes into their flesh. His hand would reach out tentatively, jerking it back only for it to rest on his chin as he relapses into seemingly deep thought. Merchants would stare at him expectantly, their eyes alight with that characteristic enthusiasm of a man/woman ready to empty a customer's pockets. When the merchants realize that the man had no intention of purchasing anything but what he came for, their faces would contort with annoyance and disdain before the rushed him towards a purchase.
Echion strides through the market, combat boots pounding heavily on the cobble stones, his shopping nearing completion. He leans over to inspect a cart of garlic cloves when a commotion, a quiet one nearly unnoticeable, catches his attention. The scene is a familiar one, a scene he has seen played numerous times and he has been a frequent actor in them. An unjustifiably confident nobleman accosted a snow-haired woman, his fingers gleaming with golden treatments and bearing a smile that harbored nothing but lewd intentions. His bodyguard, adorned with muscles and size, made the nobleman bolder than would be socially acceptable.This form of harassment did not sit right with Echion. He would need to rectify it.
He moves the way one imagines a brick wall does, unyielding and confident in it's ability to move things with force. The clunk of his boots are unheard by both the bodyguard and nobleman, too distracted with their game of coercion. "Sir, it would appear this kind lady has no desire for you attention. If I'm mistaken, you have my apologies," Echion states, his voice a blend of cordial politeness with a terse undertone that subtly implied there would be ill consequences for not heeding his request. "If not, I'm thinking it would be best to move on." He shrugs his head to the side expectantly, pointing back towards the entrance of the bazaar. |
LAIKA OF BTN!
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2013 5:15:10 GMT
REMEMBER THE GOLD RUSH ❀ |
mika doesn't even so much as blink when the new arrival calls him a 'young lady'. he's a little too used to this, it seems. that, and he's never gone through the usual rites of passage. it's always been a gentle "mika" or a curt "little brother" or a sardonic "zharkov's kid". when femininity has worked so well to his advantage, mika will embrace it when he can. did it truly matter when he didn't have a father or a woman to impress?
he almost sneers at this young noblema- nobleboy's words. perspective only started to matter after a fool could see what was right in front of his nose.
"stay out of this!" the other man snarls as he raises his fist, although his voice tapers noticeably when he realizes that the other man is noticeably taller and more well-built than he.
mika changes his mind when the man's long sleeve falls down enough to reveal a single gold signet ring. an arrow in an apple, it seems. he smirks, knowing exactly what he is dealing with. he is certainly well travelled enough to have heard of him.
he changes his mind. mika has no desire to risk becoming tabloid fodder for such a coward who couldn't even shoulder the weight of his own fate. truly, this prodigal son's reputation precedes him.
"...that might be a good idea, galad ramsin." wasting his breath on such an insignificant child is almost too tiring for this to be worth the effort. especially when gold probably wasn't going to come out of it. "whatever will your fiancée say? or your father, once your wedding is cancelled on account of your scandal tab?"
there's no pleasure that even comes out of reveling in his appalled expression. mika didn't expect him to give himself away that quickly. it was a gamble at first. now, it's even less. "surely you aren't about to sink his dying business over my pretty face? affairs are tradable goods in a dying town such as this"
ah, and what a truth it is. especially when the man would be less than appreciative at anything below his neckline. mika watches him sputter with calm disinterest, easily unravelling the layers of masked apathy.
rich or poor, they didn't have the same things to lose.
the guard seems even more panicked than his charge. what poor discipline. although if it was his paycheck that was on the line...mika really ought to spare him more credit.
mika stands on his toes, his back of peaches still in hand, leaning over to the man's ear, the one that he must have had a thousand empty flatteries pass through. "are you sure that this is what you want?" he whispers, almost bitingly seductive, but loud enough for the babysitter to hear.
it is the guard who pulls his charge away from mika. he even coughs up a decent hush fee.
at this, mika would be lying if he wasn't somewhat satisfied by the outcome. he would have preferred the gold jewelry, but disposing of a body would have also been plenty costly and risky.
he turns around to pick out another peach. mika pays for the two near-perfect ones, as well as the bruised fruit. after hesitating for another moment, he picks out another peach. he doesn't spend too long, preferring to take a rather ordinary one. this one, he also pays for.
mika is silent for a moment before handing it to the man who had attempted to intervene. not out of any real sense of gratitude, but a man who would help a townsperson without an expectation were rather uncommon.
he doesn't expect this one to be one of them. mika can only hope that he will accept it before leaving quietly.
@nate
|
LAIKA OF GS!
|
|
