If You Want to Hide, You Hide in Plain Sight

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Elflady, Sep 6, 2013.

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  1. As heavy grey clouds rolled up across the horizon Irmelin leaned against the railing keeping the horses penned in, her mood and eyes matching the sky, her mind was in an uproar just like the weather. Only difference was that after a massive downpour and some thunder the sky would be clear again, the air fresh and sweet. She would have to live all her life with all these feelings of anger and resignation bottled up and just keep a good face.

    Sweeping back her copper red hair that had broken loose from her braid in the strong wind Irmelin swept her eyes across the herd of horses that gazed peacefully, they had an easy life compared to her. Why would just her village have to be so damn traditional and set in its ways? There as electricity that worked most of the time, as long as it didn't snow too much, some simple machines were owned by the biggest farmer and the general store but otherwise the village was determined to stay old fashioned. The elders convinced that new technology wouldn't last and would only cause laziness and problems.

    But that she could accept, being used to a life without much technology it wasn't something she strictly missed, but why was the culture never changing. Since she was fourteen Irmelin had been promised to a man of her parents choosing, he was seven years older than her and sure he was nice and she had nothing against him personally.

    It was just that her very being refused being sent off into marriage without any choice whatsoever. Her dark red hair actually did show a flaring soul, she was raised to be obedient and kind and she did what she could to please her parents because she loved them. Couldn't they just see that she wasn't happy and would never be happy like this.

    Sighing Irmelin rubbed her temples where a headache threatened to blossom, she had been pondering this the entire month. Thank all higher powers that the harvest had been very bad this year so that the marriage had been pushed back till next summer, it gave her an extra year of freedom and anxiety. A part of her that only grew larger wanted to run, run far away and be relieved of her duties but the other part of her wanted the safe option of staying and accepting her chosen role. Every day that went those parts of her battled but so far neither ever won. Here was safety, tradition, the horses and her family but outside was freedom.

    Heaving another sigh Irmelin straightened up and headed back to the house, her father and brothers were out tending to the fields and her mother had taken her little sisters to the village tailor to get them some new clothes that they would probably out grow in a week. A rare occasion when she had the quaint little house to herself, and her thoughts.

    Inside her small room that kept her bed, a closet and a it of free space for a rag rug Irmelin studied the dress that hung behind her door hidden under a protecting cover. It was for her wedding, bought for this year but now it hung unused for another couple of seasons. It was very elaborate compared to her other clothes, a mix of browns, greens and white in a seemingly random pattern and decorated with beads and a intricate seams.

    Her hand fell to her side allowing the cover to hide the dress again, the sight of it almost choked her. A glance outside pressed the air from her lungs, a black bird with a white pattern similar to stars on a night sky and a pale chest landed briefly on her windowsill before ruffling its feathers and taking off again.

    Irmelin had not seen that kind of bird since she was a child, it was rare and many believed it had left this area years ago. The so called Omen Bird, it was an old nickname and the bird had always been connected with omens, good or bad. Life, death, decisions, the future, the past all had once been tied to sightings of the Omen Bird.

    A sign. It must be a sign. What else could it be? Irmelin was schooled in the old superstitious ways and though not every lesson had stuck with her some had, and her old grandmother would have instantly told her the same she was thinking now.

    Having made up her mind Irmelin set into motion, grabbing a simple but sturdy bag and stuffed it with some food, bread, dried meat and some cheese, it was enough for awhile at least. In her brothers room she grabbed a set of clothes that was a bit too big for her small frame but they were easier to move around in than her dress.

    Pulling up her leather boots over the cotton pants and stuffed the too big off white shirt inside, finishing it with a leather vest that she tied as hard as much was possible to make it fit better. It was not an outfit that would win her any points with any of the villagers but it was comfortable and reminded her a bit about home.

    Just as she was about to leave she remembered her gift, a green silk dress that her parents had paid a lot of money for as her wedding gift, she didn't see herself as a girly girl but she hadn't the heart to leave it behind unused. Stuffing it deep down in the bag as she jogged down the stairs and towards the kitchen, stopping at the last moment to put a knife that had been left in its scabbard on the table.

    If she remembered correctly there would be a traders wagon in town today and she was almost certain he was going to take the western route when he left. She didn't want to take a horse that her family depended on for survival so she intended to hitch a ride with the trader to wherever he was going. It hit her that she really hadn't any idea of how the world outside the village looked like or where things was. Excitement and fear filled her as Irmelin walked with quick steps along the forest edge in a curve to avoid detection and that would eventually land her right on the main road out of town.
  2. A slew of curses was running through the mind of First Mate Forrest Hemingway and had been for months. Nonstop. Repeating. Over and over and over again. Anger consumed him. Anger that was growing into a lust for blood. Not just any blood. Specific blood. He had to hand it to them. Marooning was a lost art in his eyes and for them to actually do it when he stood up to them against that whole mutiny business, well. Kudos to them.

    Nevertheless, he was still hunting them down. They had something that was rightfully his and he was probably owed some revenge. The whisperings among the crew were calling for the death of the captain and he had been the only thing standing in their way. He knew it was almost impossible to track down the ship, but he had to try. He owed it to his captain.

    He made it into the city early in the morning. His first stop was the docks. He needed to see if the airship had docked there in the past three months. They had. Great! Three months ago. Two months ago. Not great.

    It was stupid. He knew it was. Following an airship on foot. But it was all he could do at the moment. Sure, maybe he should make a trip to the ship's home port (or old home port. Who knew if they kept the same home port.), stop by his old house, pick up some things. A change of clothes would be especially good. A bath. Whatever.

    He bumped into someone as he walked and smiled, apologizing profusely. The two men went separate ways and Forrest smiled at the wallet now in his pocket. He ducked into an alley and opened the wallet up. He dug around, pulled out the money, tossed the wallet, and walked out, sliding the money into his pocket. There. Now he could buy himself a room at a hotel and stay the night in relative comfort. And bathe. He really, really needed a bath...
  3. After hitching a ride, and offering a few coins to the trader she had been able to come a long way from home in a short amount of time, when the sun had dropped below the horizon and weak stars peeked out from wisps of clouds they had reached a village. She had been too tired to notice much about it but it was bigger than her own home but not quite a town and while it had more modern technology and inventions it was not exactly high tech either. Having gotten a room at the small inn there Irmelin fell asleep quickly, her body stiff from sitting in a wagon all day and she was emotionally worn out from conflicting feelings and guilt.

    The next morning the bad weather had passed and the sky was clear, Irmelin's mood had not vanished with the clouds, she had woken up relieved and with a feeling of freedom but with a major guilt trip. Closing off her conscience for awhile she made it downstairs and out on the main street enjoying the sight of a new place, all the small stores and stalls and the people that walked past her, new faces, not the same ones like everyday at home. Her clothing did attract strange looks and smiles, a girl in boys clothings, especially when they didn't fit all that well, was not very common in this part of the country.

    Having gotten some directions on where to go and breakfast at the inn she set out eager to get more distance between herself and her home, a bit unsettled about how people, mostly men, had approached her. This was not something she was used to in her little village and while other women she noticed either didn't care or answered in the same way she didn't like it. She had also been warned from travelling alone by the old lady running the inn, now Irmelin didn't really know how much of that was a real threat or just an old lady's warnings that weren't as serious as they seemed but perhaps it would be stupid to ignore the warnings fully.

    Now that she had walked for what seemed like days but were probably closer to a few hours, having been helped a lot on her way when small cart pulled by a mule closed in on her, the man offered her a ride and that saved her from hours of walking. Her belief in people's good nature making her certain that people did favours only to be kind and helpful, but while that was true in a small village where everyone knew one another it was different in the wide world. At a cross roads where Irmelin planned to continue west according to her directions she was horrified when her thank you netted her a suggestion on how she could thank him. A string of curses followed her when she took of running, glad the man didn't seem to want to leave his cart to chase her.

    Taking a break when she got closer to the forest, emptying the last of her water while resting in the shade under a tree, her thoughts on the newest problem; her gender. Twirling copper red strands that had escaped the braid around her fingers she wondered how she could really contemplate cutting it all off, she didn't consider herself vain but she loved her hair. It reached down to her hips and due to her constant care it was thick with a healthy gleam, coming from a family that could afford to raise five children relatively comfortably but not much more Irmelin wasn't used to luxuries but when it came to her hair she did what she could.

    Digging through her pouch her hand found the knife, it was heavy and cool against her skin, biting her lip she pulled it from it's scabbard the blade catching the sun. She was ideal for this disguise, her flat figure and wiry muscles able to hide her gender, possibly making her look younger than she actually was, if not for her feminine hair, Irmelin imagined that if she went as a boy no body would care much for her. Squeezing her eyes shut she stretched out her braid and hesitated a few moments before she quickly cut it off, in seconds her beloved hair was gone, hanging limply in her hand. Throwing the braid in among the trees Irmelin pulled a hand through her hair, swallowing down the self pity that threatened to emerge, her hair was shorter than it had been since she was a child, just brushing her shoulders.

    Not in the mood to linger she started walking again, rounding the corner and coming away from the trees she saw a large city up ahead, even in the distance she could see the machines and oddly enough ships that flew through the air, Irmelin had only ever seen row boats on a lake. Soon she reached the gates and inside her eyes grew wide in amazement, all the different people that crowded the streets, stores, markets, performers and more. Irmelin felt like a lost kid without her mother, she had no idea where to even start in a place this big, what to do and see first.
  4. First Mate Forrest McKay woke up from the soft bed and groaned. He stood up, stretched, and took about an hour to get some push-ups and whatnot in. It wouldn't matter if he found them if he wasn't in shape to take them on. Once he was satisfied that his muscles were screaming at him, he got up and took a nice, cold shower.

    Once he was dressed and his bag was packed with the (very) few belongings he had, he walked out and started trying to figure out where he was going next. He could trade labor for passage on another ship and get where he was going...but where was he going? He should head to his home port and try and make a plan. Though, there wasn't a reason he couldn't just make a plan now...

    He was so lost in his thought that he ran right into Irmelin. He grabbed onto her to make sure she didn't fall as he caught his own balance. He let go of her and frowned down at her. "You should be more careful, son....Are you lost?" He asked, glancing around, then back down at Irmelin. "YOu look lost, son." Sure, he was a pirate. But that didn't mean he didn't have a heart.
  5. Too occupied with where she was going or her surroundings Irmelin walked down the street craning her neck to see everything, her attention caught on all the things she had never seen or even imagined to exist. Then she suddenly walked straight into a person, staggering backwards from the impact, the man quickly grabbed her arm, steadying her. "I'm sorry," she said automatically with a small smile, her voice wasn't dark per se but it could most likely pass for the voice of a boy short in stature and on the feminine side.

    She wasn't lost really, lost indicated you knew where you where going and then went the wrong way she were just aimlessely going where ever, having little to none knowledge about the world outside the part of the country nearby her home. "Well, you could say that, I've never been far from my village before so I do not know my way around here." She said, brushing back her hair that kept flying around when there was no braid to keep it in place, still not used to the new length.

    "There's just so much to see here, it's so large and lively here," she said, hazel eyes glittering with excitement, her eager, round face spotted with freckles and the slightly up turned nose probably didn't add years to her age in an on-lookers eyes.
  6. If the girl took a good look at the man in front of her, she'd see a tall man, just brushing 6 feet (though he insisted he was 6'1) with long black hair tied back in a loose pony tail with a strip of leather. His clothes looked pretty well-worn but like they were very nice at one point in time. A nice white shirt, a brown and green doublet with gold buttons and trim, a heavy leather coat that had definitely seen some use, black pants, black boots. The left shoulder of his coat looked bigger than it should be, like something was hidden under the flap of leather that seemed to be buttoned in place over his shoulder. And, as he shifted his weight, if she was perceptive enough, she might notice the coat didn't quite hang right. It was rigid in places, like maybe it was reinforced with something? Pouches hung off his belt as well as a holster hanging low on his right hip. A pair of goggles hung around his neck, the broken left lens matching some small scars around his left eye and eyelid that brought attention to his sharp green eyes. He idly tugged at some leather gloves that came up to his elbows under his coat sleeves as he contemplated his situation.

    Oh great. A farm kid in the big city. A perfect mark for scam artists, thieves, and whores that didn't care about bleeding a poor boy dry and leaving him without money to get home, leaving him with no choice but to join up with an airship crew and then end up the first mate of the crew years down the road only to be marooned on a deserted island and forced to build his own boat and damn near starve or die of exposure....what was he thinking about? Oh, right. The kid. "Where are your parents, kid? Surely they didn't send you out here by yourself. You'll get eaten alive in the city...." He folded his eyes and looked the 'boy' up and down before sighing deeply. Damn it. "City's no place for a kid like you. Let me help you get back home. Or at least send you in the right direction."
  7. Taking in the man's worn and well used but still lightyears from what Irmelin was used to, her own, or rather her brother's, clothes seemed very simple in comparison, simple pants and the off white shirt tucked inside and the vest that all were too big for her but still quite comfortable. Finding some parts of his clothes more odd her eyes were drawn to the broken googles, the cracked lens turned her attention to his eyes, his left eye having matching scars, together with holster he carried Irmelin wondered what this guy did for a living.

    Weapons were a foreign idea to her, of course she knew people used them and that travellers and merchants either carried their own or hired people who did but in her home the only weapons were farm tools and knifes used in homes. The fact that his coat looked uneven, thicker in some places and oddly stiff when he moved was something she noticed, being a girl she had been forced through sewing lessons and so she could see when a piece of clothing didn't fit or were badly sewn, of course her knack for noticing that was far better than her actual skill at sewing.

    Made speechless by his question at first Irmelin struggled with which version to go by, either one could back fire. "Ehm, they are back home I'd wager." She started, feeling a stong urge to twirl a strand of her hair like she used to when nervous. "I wanted to stay in the city a little longer so they left without me as long as I came soon after," she added sheepishly. She didn't care much if she came of as odd or stupid nor which direction she took now, as long as it wasn't back east from where she had come. "I don't want to cause you any problems though, the town close to my village lies to the west." Well there she could start thinking on a new plan, she felt really bad for leaving her home, her family, and while she regreted that she had not thought of leaving a note she didn't want to go back.
  8. Damn it, damn it, damn it. He reached up and ran his hand over his hair, smoothing down some stray strands that flew about in the breeze. "Right, well. You look fresh off the farm and if I can see that, everyone else can, too. City's a dangerous place." He moved his hand like he was going to rest it on the butt of his gun but sighed when he realized it wasn't there. He clenched his fist lightly and turned to look around, dropping his hand down to his side. He moved both hands into the large pockets of his coat and shook his head. "You're not even old enough to be growing hair on your chin and they left you here alone?"

    He reached over and put his hand on top of Irmalin's head and turned her head one way, then the other, then dropped his hand back down and put it in his pocket. "You're the right age to be taken aboard a ship and made a powder monkey or a cabin boy. Whether you want to or not. Then, you'll likely never see yer family again." He narrowed his eyes. "Unless yer a runaway and don't wanna go back."
  9. Shaking her head in annoyance at his touch and narrowing her eyes she took a step backwards, it made her feel like a child and she had in mind of stating just that until she remembered it might not be a great idea stating her real age when she probably couldn't quite look like a guy in his late teens. His words sent slight tendrils of worry through her however, she did want to see the worl, or some of it at least but she did not want to be just taken against her will on boad a ship. It would be just as bad as if she'd stayed home and married, locked away from freedom.

    Irmelin gritted her teeth as he continued, was it just a thought or had he guessed it from her half assed story? Not that it really mattered either way, if he insisted on taking her home it would be a waste of his breath. "Well, I don't exactly want to return home," she finally admitted, kicking the ground, sending a pebble flying. "But I don't want to be taken on board against my will, that would kind off defeat the entire purpose of me leaving in the first place." She continued, her hazel eyes defiant and determined, with a tiny bit of hesitation for the inkown almost hidden away.
  10. "So, that would be a 'yes, sir, I'm a runaway'." He sighed. "Come on." He said, putting a strong hand on the 'boy's shoulder and started to lead him towards a bar. "You and I need to have a talk."

    Without letting her argue, he forced her along with him and on into the bar, never letting go of her shoulder. He lead her over to a booth in the back and sat down, waving to a server. The woman nodded and went to fetch them two mugs. Forrest didn't say a word, just gave the girl a stern look while he waited for the mugs. When they were finally put down on the table, he took both of them and lifted them up, looking at the glass bottom of the metal mugs. When he was satisfied there wasn't a coin in either one of them, he put them back down, one in front of the girl and one in front of himself.

    He took a long drink, then sat it back down. "I ran away when I was 10. Had my reasons. Not going to tell you. Not going to ask your reasons. Not any of my damn business." He took another drink. "But I am going to tell you what happened to me. I spent three months trying to figure out how to survive on my own. Learned how to pick pocket. Learned how to beg. Learned how to shop lift. Learned how much I like whiskey." He cleared his throat a little and shrugged. He sat back and started patting himself down for something. He eventually pulled a tobacco pouch out of somewhere in his coat and opened it up, looking into it. He dug out his pipe and started packing it. "Learned not to sleep where someone can find me by waking up in the bowels of a ship by someone throwing cold water on me." He pat himself down and sighed. He leaned over and grabbed the arm of a passing serving wench and smirked at her. "Need a light, love."

    The woman smiled at him and pulled a matchbox from her cleavage. She leaned in and lit his pipe for her and turned to walk off. He thanked her with a swat to the rear and sat back, puffing on his pipe. He looked across the table at the 'boy' sitting there. "Slaved away on that ship for five years. Became a rigging rat when I was 15. Moved on to engineering at 18. And eventually ended up as a first mate." He shrugged and puffed at his pipe again. "But, that first five years was hell and not at all what I had in mind when I left home, and I saw a few of my friends from the street...well...not make it...and let me tell you...air sickness is a terrible thing."
  11. Finding herself forced along Irmelin reluctantly followed without a fuss, he was bigger and most likely stronger but still he so far didn't seem too bad so she opted to go along for now. Sitting down in the booth she fidget slightly under his hard gaze, glad for the interuption when the server came with two drinks, stretching for the one put in front off her Irmelin recoiled slightly at the scent, a sip of the liquid sent her into fits of coughing as her throat burned. The taste was not entirely unpleasant but it was strong and she wondered how people could drink so much so easily, probably just a lot of practice she thought wryly.

    Listening to the man's story Irmelin had a hard time imagining to run away at such a young age, and she had to bite back a sympathetic reply, at that age she would never even have considered running away no matter what and would probably not have survived for long either. At age eighteen she was still naive to the workings of the world outside her peaceful village but at least she had skills that could land her a job and some income if she just could learn the ways of the city, although Irmelin didn't know how old others percieved her to be it must be more then 10 hopefully.

    Taking a few more sips, barely managing to avoid coughing again, Irmelin blushed as the man thanked the server in a way that would never be tolerated in her home, she hoped he would take it that the drink made her face flush so that her freckles didn't stand out anymore. "You can get air sick?" Sure she had heard of sea sickness, although never been bothered by it herself but air sickness, although she supposed that instead of water pushing a ship around in the air it would be wind leading to the same problem. "I see your point about the dangers but while I may seem foolishly stubborn I am not going back home that much is certain." Irmelin stated firmly.

    "I could perhaps find some job here," she mused. "Although I haven't really seen any stables so far." She added as an after thought, caring for the family horses had always been her favourite chore, horses being more than a job for her, in her eyes they were both loyal and a source of security, after all if you could handle such a large animal then you could handle pretty much anything, or a lot at least. Of course if she found a job there was the matter of finding some place to live and survive day to day but that was only true if she wanted to stay here, which she didn't for to long, both because it wasn't too far to her home village and because this was hardly all the world had to show.
  12. "The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, kid." He said honestly, shaking his head. He went back and forth between his pipe and his ale, eyes rarely leaving the kid across from him. "There aren't usually horses in the city. Not with the availability and reliability of clockwork or at least steam. You need to be able to work with all of that to make any sort of living. Or shovel coal at the very least." He shook his head. "I didn't even live in the country before I ran away. We lived in the city. It still chewed me up and spit me out, and now look at me."

    He shook his head. "You're going to end up like every other runaway if you're out there by yourself." He finished his ale and set the mug down towards the end of the table so the waitress would notice. Probably worse. What do you know about the world, kid?....What's your name?"
  13. Feeling her spirits sink as the man spoke Irmelin realised her view of the world was very limited, her small village was so very different from the big world that she know saw for the first time. She supposed she could shovel coal although her physical strength wasn't the greatest but she had only seen old and beat up clockwork and steam machines not these modern ones littered throughout the city, she had no clue how to understand them or even work with them. But his words did inspire her stubborn side, if he could survive then Irmelin would be damned if she couldn't as well, sure he had had some advantages over her situation, like being born in a city but she ignored that for the moment.

    Pulling a hand through her hair, still irked by the fact that her hair ended so quickly now. "Ehm..." First stunned by his question Irmelin's thoughts raced to find an answer, she had never given a thought to her name, if she was set to travel as a boy then she couldn't keep her own name of course, but what to choose, she couldn't drag out the answer either lest he wonder why she hesitated. "Imre," she replied, feeling like it took minutes rather than seconds to answer, having changed her own name slightly she hoped it would go faster for her to get used to it and react when called.

    His other question she didn't really have an answer for however, not one she wanted to give anyway, she had quickly learned that her knowledge didn't spread very far, on a farm or small village she was at home and knew what to do and how to do it but here she was lost. Irmelin still didn't want to go back, maybe if she failed in everything or was better off in a forced life than out in the world.
  14. Great. He was nothing more than a simple farm boy. Forrest sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't have time for this. He didn't have the energy to spend on protecting some stupid little runaway...but he couldn't leave the boy to end up in the bowls of a ship or forced into the red light district. But he didn't want a tagalong. Hell, if he wanted a kid, he could go dig up some of the women he slept with. Surely one of them had a brat running around with his unique eye color.

    He shook his head and looked over. "You have two choices, Imre. You can stay here and try and fail to carve out a living for yourself, ending up in the bowls of a ship or mopping up a whore house somewhere, or you can come with me. And I can make sure you don't end up in places no young man should ever see. Well, some probably...considering I'm...well, I guess I'm not anymore." He shook his head. "Either way, it's your choice. I don't really want a kid following me around, I can't in good conscious leave you to your fate."
  15. The futures he described sounded very appaling, Irmelin had no interest in even seeing the parts of the city where a brothel may be situated, being thrown inside a probably dirty ships wasn't high on her list either. His pessimism was irking however, he may be right, most likely seeing to his experience, but when Irmelin was told she could not do something, that she'd just fail it her stubborness flared up and she had to fight to not succumb to it. Swallowing down her misplaced need to prove herself Irmelin "Well, I don't have much of a choice do I," she said, taking another careful sip from her mug, getting more used to the taste

    "I'm not a kid," she couldn't help but snapping, she was not some ten year old that needed constant watch. "I am old enough to live on my own." Well in her village she had been old enough to move away from home a few years ago provided she was married, here it apparently didn't matter much your age unless you knew your way around. She wondered if places that weren't fit for a young man to see were anything a young woman should see either, however she was a bit curious as to what such places could be, where she was from there was no places unsavory for either age really. "Where are you going?" Irmelin asked, curiosity stricken. "Are you just travelling or do you have a certain place in mind?"
  16. "When you've got hair on your chest and a beard growing on your face, you'll no longer be a child. Hell, son, you're as bald as a baby aside from that mop on top of your head." He shook his head. "I'm looking for something." He said, glancing over at his mug as the waitress whisked it away. He took another puff on his pipe before he tapped it out and tucked it away again. "I haven't quite decided the best course of action yet. My problem is, the item I'm looking for moves around in the hands of someone who shouldn't have it. Or that was the plan, back when I was still in the item's presence. I got a bit lost along the way, separated from my group so to speak, and now I'm wondering if I should just go after it or if I should go home, regroup, gather proper supplies, and head out again."

    "Thank you, love." He told the waitress as she set his mug back down. He picked it up, lifted it over his head to look at the bottom again, and took a drink. He turned back to look at the boy sitting across from him. "The chances of me finding this item are slim to none, but I need to locate it. Maybe you can provide a set of fresh eyes to look upon this trouble with. What do you think? Should I wander aimlessly or head home and head out from there? I know the vague path the item is supposed to be taking, but there's no telling whether it's on that path or not."
  17. Yeah, that was not likely to ever happen, so Irmelin grimly resigned to be treated as a kid as long as she travelled with this man, it was not like she could grow a beard for her disguise and by that be considered an adult. But this wouldn't last forever so she supposed she could live with it, after all she doubted they'd stay together so long that her lack of facial hair or physical growth in odd places for a boy would strike the man as odd. Who knew along the way she may even learn enough about the workings of the world so that she could drop her guise and be herself again, but that was not a certainity yet.

    "To me it sounds easiest to try and contact those you were separated from," Irmelin said. "But if that's not possible I would rather take the route I knew the item should take first. If you eliminate the route you know it could take and it's not there then you can continue searching blindly." She continued. Having slight problems with decisions Irmelin always found it easier to start with the certain and easy path first and then move on to the next, it also fit her appreciation of having things in order, having gained some of her mothers perfectionism.
  18. Forrest sighed and nodded. "That's what I thought. While there's no way of telling if they're on the same path or not...it's the best bet I have at finding them. I can stock up again farther on. Though, I do actually have money at my house..." He looked around, then finished his drink. He stood up and looked down at the kid at the table. "Go on up to my room." He said, tossing the key on the table. "You take anything, I'll hunt you down like a dog and gut you like a fish. I'll be up later tonight, but you should go up and get some sleep. Take a bath. I'm sure you need one." He pushed his fingers back through his hair and looked around, weighing his options. Steal, gamble, or whore....decisions, decisions...
  19. That sounded good in her ears, she didn't much mind where they headed, away from here was good enough but the bath that demanded much more attention than a direction. It hadn't been too long since she last had bathed but with the dirt and sweat from the road on her way here stuck to her and made it feel so much longer than it had been. Irmelin took the key not bothering to retort that she would never steal, considering her life now she may just as well need to sometime, plus her assurance would probably not get far with a person that didn't know her. Giving a quiet thank you to the man she hurried up the stairs, glad that the man seemed to be heading out, it would give her a chance to bathe and dress again before he came back, so far her ruse seemed to work and she didn't want her efforts to be in vain.

    Well up by the bath she undressed quickly and lowered herself into the pleasantly warm water, sighing in satisfaction, despite it not being very long since the last time it felt like ages ago and she could have stayed where she was much longer but having a gnawing feeling of exposure Irmelin quickly finished and stepped out of the tub. She wasn't too eager about dressing in the same clothes again either but washing them would require her to have another set of clothes and as she now realised she had stupidly forgotten to take with her. Having dressed she used a towel to dry off her hair, used to having her hair drip water for hours normally in its current length it went much quicker which was a pleasant surprise although she did not like the length very much still.

    Not feeling very eager to venture out on the streets alone, slightly influenced by the man's words about the dangers she opted to stay inside for now not wanting to risk anything. Spending some time looking around the room, while avoiding the man's personal belongings she ended up by the window for awhile taking in the sights. She was still amazed at the sheer difference between a small town's machinery and the modernity of a city's, not to mention all the people and lack of greenery, coming from the country she was used to nature outweighing humanity in numbers, here it was the opposite. Having seated herself by the window, curled in a worn armchair she dozed of after awhile, her senses more overwhelmed than her body.
  20. The man didn't seem to have many personal effects. There was a backpack sitting on a chair by the door and that really seemed to be it. There were no clothes in the provided dresser, no pocket watch on the bedside table, no books, no pictures. It looked like he was packed as if to leave at a moments notice. The backpack looked fairly new, however, maybe a month or two, and looked like it was about half full.

    It was hours before First Mate Forrest Hemingway walked back into the room. He looked out the door as he closed it, as if expecting to be followed, and gave a soft snort. He locked the door and moved the chair with his backpack on it up to bar the door before taking off his coat. He dropped it with a heavy metallic clunk on top of his backpack and turned to start running himself a bath. Next to come off were his gloves, followed by his doublet, followed by his shirt. He had a few scars criss-crossing his chest and his back, more on his arms, several across his knuckles, but nothing too serious. His belt of pouches were next and he tossed them all vaguely towards his coat and backpack. As he sat on the edge of the tub to unlace his boots, he looked over where Irmelin was sleeping and sighed. He needed to teach the boy some things. He made enough money to keep them in the city for another day or two, time enough to save up more money and teach the boy some basic city survival skills. Something to keep him from standing on street corners waiting to get paid for something no man should ever have to do. Unless he was into that. Or had been out to sea too long. Fuck.

    He rubbed his face and tossed one boot loudly over by the chair, drifting off into his own thoughts.
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