WHAT IF DEATH IS JUST ANOTHER
PAIR OF HANDCUFFS
PAIR OF HANDCUFFS
Almost as soon as he begins to trumpet his wares, Sterling can see the annoyance flickering in the mare’s expression. Sparks dance beneath her hooves, and Sterling cannot help but raise his brows, remarking, “That’s a handy trick.” Still, for a heartbeat he feels bad for accosting her, and he half-expects her to pin her ears and pull away.
But she doesn’t, instead approaching to peer more closely at his table of smaller items—curious, perhaps, despite herself. Nothing he rattles off seems to capture her interest, though her gaze ranges over the wooden offerings, scrutinizing. Sterling is a newly-minted salesman, with less than even a full night’s work under his belt, but he’s spent enough time at the card tables to know when someone’s paying genuine attention. He smiles and edges closer, to see what’s drawn her eye—
“Are they... weapons?” she wonders, and in his surprise he almost drops the set of pipes he’s lifted up to show her. Her confusion is evident, deepening his own, as she asks what can be done with the objects in question. Does she not know music and timekeeping? Has she never entered a library, with its shelves and shelves of books? The very notion is so foreign to him that for a moment he is as bewildered as she.
“Uh—no, not exactly,” he says, his peddler’s persona flagging briefly before he musters it again. “If you’re wanting weapons, you might try over there.” He nods his head toward the shop across the way, where he himself had been admiring a number of handsomely carved bows, spears, and ash-handled knives. “This is Cadogan’s Cabinetry and Curiosities,” he adds, gesturing now toward the yellow silk banner strung above their heads. “Purveyors of fine furniture and woodworkings, since 486.”
Her gaze is still lingering on the pan flute he had started to show her, so he returns to it, his smile kind. “These are pipes,” he tells her. “For making music, you see?” And he blows a quick little melody, the notes drifting up cheerily into the night air. He tilts his head to the side and offers the pipes to the mare. “Would you like to try them out?”
But she doesn’t, instead approaching to peer more closely at his table of smaller items—curious, perhaps, despite herself. Nothing he rattles off seems to capture her interest, though her gaze ranges over the wooden offerings, scrutinizing. Sterling is a newly-minted salesman, with less than even a full night’s work under his belt, but he’s spent enough time at the card tables to know when someone’s paying genuine attention. He smiles and edges closer, to see what’s drawn her eye—
“Are they... weapons?” she wonders, and in his surprise he almost drops the set of pipes he’s lifted up to show her. Her confusion is evident, deepening his own, as she asks what can be done with the objects in question. Does she not know music and timekeeping? Has she never entered a library, with its shelves and shelves of books? The very notion is so foreign to him that for a moment he is as bewildered as she.
“Uh—no, not exactly,” he says, his peddler’s persona flagging briefly before he musters it again. “If you’re wanting weapons, you might try over there.” He nods his head toward the shop across the way, where he himself had been admiring a number of handsomely carved bows, spears, and ash-handled knives. “This is Cadogan’s Cabinetry and Curiosities,” he adds, gesturing now toward the yellow silk banner strung above their heads. “Purveyors of fine furniture and woodworkings, since 486.”
Her gaze is still lingering on the pan flute he had started to show her, so he returns to it, his smile kind. “These are pipes,” he tells her. “For making music, you see?” And he blows a quick little melody, the notes drifting up cheerily into the night air. He tilts his head to the side and offers the pipes to the mare. “Would you like to try them out?”
AND MAYBE GOD IS JUST A COP
THAT WE CAN FAST TALK
THAT WE CAN FAST TALK
@Morrighan not at all haha, he's my first character that’s actually native to buildings and tools himself :P
