The Science of Sewage, [Vexen/Closed]| Zexion |
Posted: Apr 13 2012, 01:10 AM
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 Greentike  Group: Admin Posts: 22 Member No.: 11 Joined: 21-March 11  |
Glancing up at it, he scowled slightly. 'The Barras'? Whatever kind of word was that? It held a guttural tone, but no matter how much he scoured his mind, he could not find a word that matched it. Perhaps it was but a name, he didn't need to over analyse such a minute detail. From what he could see, this place was a market of some description. Stalls seemed scattered all over the place, and cheap merchandise was being pawned off by vendors screaming in accents so thick he felt they were spilling sewage. No matter, he didn't need to talk to any of them, not yet. He had come here to cool down. It was not like him to simply leave on a whim, but to be around Axel and Saix... Well, it was simply getting too hot to handle. The Organization was a mess. The Superior had already snatched his prize. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he supposed it best to scout out the new worlds that had suddenly appeared. A market was a great place for information. Though he did not like the sound of the people, merely listening could tell him so much. The books for sale, too, held to him some interest. As he slid through this dirty place, he observed fat bird creatures wandering between the legs of people - pecking at scraps of food. They seemed harmless enough. In fact, this entire place seemed free of conventional dangers. His nose didn't speak of darkness, though he swore he caught a whiff of it somewhere on the wind. Narrowing his eyes, he was sure he knew that scent, but for now he could forego it. Perhaps he was being followed. Heartless had not infested this place. Yet some other kind of creature had. One that seemed to be called 'jakies' by the locals. Or perhaps they were known as 'neds', the variety of tutting that came from passing strangers towards a group of strangely dressed youths told him this. They had all circled around what appeared to be a tramp. He could hear them, and chose for now to simply observe. "Haw haw haw, look at this pure ragheid man!" The largest of the group had a tongue bathed in pure vomit. It was disgusting to listen to. "What have ye got there man, ten wee rags? What's yer name son? Gobble Ten-rags?" The second voice seemed much calmer, but still carried such a horrid vibe. The tramp they were talking to seemed unperturbed. He simply shuffled his rags, piling them up and then very slowly removing them. "Ye deaf or somethin' man? Come on Ten-rags what are ye dein wie yerself? Ye naw on the gyro or nothin'?" Really, this people were the most foreign he had ever come across. They spoke a language he understood and yet corrupted it beyond reason. If anything their grunts resembled the cries of a dying heartless. How very interesting, indeed. "Hey, what are ye lookin' at ye wee poofter?" Suddenly realizing the 'neds' were looking at him, he cursed himself for observing so obviously. "I was admiring your culture," he spoke with sarcasm dripping between his lips. "Here, what did you say ye cheeky wee poof?" The apparently nicer ned clearly had some bite. "Ye look like a tranny emo or somethin. Go cut yer hair and stoap hidin' from the sun, mate." A laughter rose through the small gathering of them, but before Zexion could aggravate the situation any further it seemed they had gone back to speaking to 'Tenrags'. Shrugging, he saw no need to really provoke them, and merely went back to exploring the marketplace. It seemed, according to a sign, that this place was 'world famous'. That set a shiver of worry through him. Was this the capital of this planet? Were all the people like this? Truly, they were an aggressive race. Perhaps the Organization could manipulate such a peoples, if they had some bite to their bark. Pausing at a stall, he began to examine some of the books they had for sale. All of them seemed in bad taste, a few of them lacked words. Yet his attention was stolen from him, and nestling in its place was a victorious smirk. How very interesting. "I smell you, Vexen," he said calmly, turning around from the stall to search for him. "It is strangely welcoming." Word Count: 750 EXP: 1500 |
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