World's End, FINE

[Mr.Oozikins]

It was late, and Lorelai moved in the evening as one who knows that nobody will stop her. So young, so small, so female, and out on the streets of World’s End well past dark; the upward tilt of her chin, the fierce lines around her eyes, the strut, all suggested that she knew the exclusiveness of this right. And yet for all this, she was headed for the Lei of Lilies wearing a pale blue dress with a headband to match, and formal brown shoes with tassels. A tawny-gray terrier-shepherd mix trotted amiably at her side, no leash, and together they were horribly picturesque.

A hot meal or maybe some fresh fruit at the Lei of Lilies would be so nice. Maybe she’d play cards again with that charming young man… or whatever he was- it didn’t matter much, though he was quite beautiful. There would be hot cocoa with real marshmallows and whipped cream, and then- she pushed her thin blond hair behind an ear, swinging her head, and Dorian the dog chanced a look up at her- and then maybe she would visit the bath house. Even the whores there were not so offensive- not nearly so much as, say, the one just across the street, malnourished and bony and drawn-out. Really, quite insensitive to the eyes.

Dorian walked with his head up. He watched the woman and tested the air for her sickly, infected smell before facing forward again, but his ears were cocked upward and back as they passed. Lorelai decided not to notice.

Ahh, but a familiar face! A well-dressed man clicked across the street in his nice shoes, and Lorelai inclined her head with a smile at him and he lifted his brows and smiled back at her over the layer of pavement and she felt satisfied and then passed out of the pool of a street-lamp and again into shadow. Up ahead, there was the Lei of Lilies, depositing or swallowing all sorts of well-dressed people.

Finally, Dorian’s ears perked upward, the tips thereof flopping forward.

The bright, easy glow of good service and the tantalizing smell of good food and even that of good alcohol flooded her senses and turned the streets from a bragging right to loathsome in a moment. They would welcome her and now, after so long, even Dorian, because she’d proved a worthy, if small, customer. She reached for the gilded door handle and pulled and it swung, well-oiled and soundless and…

“Oh!”

Slammed into a rather unsavory-looking man who moved out with as much mirthless swiftness as she did in. He stank and was much larger than she and Lorelai stumbled backward and Dorian stumbled aside.

[Pheonix-IV]

The slat came back on the door to the compound and the gray eyes peered out at Tomáš, who peered right back at them. A grunt followed that could have been either recognition or dissaproval, but the slat slammed back and the door opened so it couldn't have been too bad. As Tomáš walked in, a series of undertones and grumbles formed out a sentance.
"You know the drill, go see Captain Parker. He'll already know and will have the pay waiting." A slight pause. "I can't believe we're this bad off."
The last, a sort of dull undertone, was so quiet as to possibly never even reach Tomáš's ears, and he certainly took no notice as he moved past the gatehouse to the open mess hall. A squad was training in the range outside, large foot long iron spikes slamming out of the rifles they wielded in half-second intervals, one of the latest and most potent weapons to be employed on Baseline.
Parker was ensconced in his usual location, and looked up briefly as Tomáš walked in, frowning slightly, he pushed across a small bag that clinked as it moved, speaking as he did so.
"There's your bounty, in Iron and Seaspar, half half, as usual. You know where the notice boards are. Come back if you see anything interesting."
Tomáš picked up the bag and contemplated the contents, Iron was the usual currency of the Human settlements on Baseline, being the only Earth based material that remained impervious to the corrupting environment, melted into tokens two inches long, one wide and a centemetre thick, Iron Tokens were accepted anywhere Humans lived. Seaspar was a derivitive of Emerald that was found inside some particulary vicious molluscs off the coast of most southern beaches. Difficult to obtain, the smaller Seaspar cubes, only two centimeters in diameter, seemed dwarfed by the larger Iron tokens, but were worth similar amounts among the native populace. Exchanging Iron for Seaspar was fairly easy, but as most native creatures had no use for the poisonous Iron, the rates were high and it was far more efficient to simply carry around two currencies.

[KalAldur]

Muttering to himself as the door opened for him, apparently someone had a semblance of class in this pompous whorehouse, he nodded and, given time, would have congratulated himself on the insult, had his train of thought not been rudely interrupted by a young girl. He immediately went to brush the girl out of his path, furrowing his brow and frowning.

"Blasted minx, get ou-" he stopped, quite completely, a foot suspended in mid step as he examined her attire, his eyes darting from her, to the dog, and then back to her. Dropping into a more 'casual' pose, albeit one with both feet on the ground, he brushed himself off, throwing on an exaggerated, fake smile. "Oh, hello! Err...are you lost? You probably don't want to go into that err..." He paused, searching for his previous insult, "Into that pompous whorehouse, it's quite unsavory."

Why was he talking to this girl? Something in the back of his head reasoned that conversation with someone else might be pleasant, given that he could barely piece together what he had been doing these past few days. He offered a hand to her cautiously, that's the proper way to greet someone, right? "I'm errr...Aleksii...Aleksii...erm...Demidov. Yes. I'm a..." He stopped again, glancing down at his waist, his free hand lifting the tome hanging there idly.

"I'm a doctor. Yes. Err...who are you? I-If you don't mind me asking, that is, because of course it's awkward for grown men to question young girls, but given that we both seem to be on our own it would be fair to reason that we're reasoning adults, are we not? But this seems like i'm trying to justify sexual intercourse, which clearly we aren't having, or will be having, and I can't help but feel as if this is somehow wrong, so bear with me as I try to reason with myself that moral justification for talking to you, that is, an adolescent, for no reason." Taking in a breath, he ended his long-winded introduction, his hand still hanging in the air as his eyes darted from it, to her, blinking rapidly.

[Mr.Oozikins]

Her mouth was already open to insult him, with his stench and his dirt, but he cut across her and her irritation was rapidly approaching a peak. And then he began to talk to her as if they were kin, which, while somehow flattering at first, only spiked her indignation.

“Well, Aleskii Demidov,” she responded, imperious and frigid a moment later, “I happen to enjoy and frequent this pompous whorehouse.” He kept talking, though, so she stayed silent, a scowl on her face.

Dorian, who had been intent on the Inn, sidled back beside Lorelai and together the three of them blocked the doorway.

She squinted at this Demidov, and then at his outstretched hand. He wasn’t worth taking apart. There was nothing in him that she liked or found immediately useful, but he was blathering. Doctor? Hah. And she waited, and she listened, staring first at his eyes and then growing bored so that her eyes cut right through the back of his head and then he was silent.

Of course, she was just pretending, because this foreign thing called sex interested Lorelai very much. That he brought it up in conversation at all, and so immediately, gave her pause. Yes, he could be worth her time if he would indulge her quasi-discreet questions on the matter. Then, of course, she looked up at him again and took his hand, almost by the fingertips for all its filth, but then she gripped more firmly, and she shook it. When she let go, of course, she shook out her hand as though to dislodge grit from the lines in her palm.

Dorian shifted his weight from side to side, growing antsy at the people squeezing in and out of the Lei of Lilies between them and the doorframe, and all their damning eyes and the condemnation and apprehensiveness with which they eyed Aleskii.

Then, Lorelai decided it was appropriate to laugh at him, and call his concerns foolish, to say that she knew better. So she threw back her head and laughed: an eerie, contrived sound.

“I didn’t think anything of the sort. Better your thoughts, you silly man. You may call me Lorelai.”

Oh, stupid, naïve little girl. Dorian leaned against her leg, nudged it with his head.

[KalAldur]

She was very...angry, he decided almost instantly. But not like a loud angry. Yes, clearly she was a quiet angry. Since that is the opposite of loud. He glanced at his hand, then hers, and back to his, before quickly moving to imitate her, shaking it erratically while laughing awkwardly. Perhaps he had gone over-board on explaining himself. People did not like it, or so it seemed.

"Well, uh...Lorelai...you should be erm...careful, you see, in this errr...establishment." It was better than insulting a location she enjoyed, he reasoned before continuing in much the same manner as he had previously, "You might get hurt, yes...errr, it's very...violent, you see? Maybe? I don't know honestly, I woke up in the gutter. Not to say I sleep there, but, it was unusual circumstances, and i'm sure you understand...or maybe you don't, being so small..."

He was doing it again, he realized, and shut up, glancing up and down the street as if looking for an escape while smiling stupidly at the girl, his eyes darting occasionally to the dog. Hopefully it wouldn't attack him, that would prove unfavorable..yes, very unfavorable.

He patted his book again, daring to open it a peek to glance at some of the diagrams drawn inside detailing some form of intricate black magic, clearly, otherwise it wouldn't seem so mysterious, would it? No, perhaps he just didn't understand 'the art' that well...he'd just have to experiment more...

"Umm...well....errr...I suppose, if you want to leave, and err, go inside that is, than I suppose you can, you see? Because I can't stop you. I mean, I suppose I could, but it wouldn't be very nice." He stopped again, clasping his hands together and twiddling his thumbs, "It's been...pleasant? Speaking? Yes. Very pleasant."