Idle Wandering

[Nayt]

Nayto:

Id Memorium: I remember sewing quietly in my mother's house. She taught me how to sew just a few weeks before that. I was getting really good. I know I got even better. I made clothes for Illorex sometimes. I think I even remember him there, too. Illorex, that is. I was just a little girl then, though. I really enjoy that dream up to then. It's quiet, it's calm, serene--beautiful. But then I grow up. I grow up and I'm a boy with a gun surrounded by other boys with guns.

Eventually Milos started to hate his dreams. They didn't bring him anything but unwelcomed nostalgia, always juxtaposed against a terrible pain--but never his pain. He was the one causing it. Always. Again, moving from town to town, aimlessly wandering between brief jobs to fund further wandering, Milos, an effeminate young man who looked more like a girl than anything else--short, seemingly frail, with a girlish face and a girl's haircut, shoulder length, with a small tuft of hair usually called an "ahoge" flipped up at the top of his head--had stopped into an apparently popular pub after paying for his room for the night. Wearing extremely loose clothes made him look even more girlish--enough that most people would think of him as female without a second thought, even when he spoke.

Truth be told, the young man had a feminine voice to boot. A pleasant one, at that. He slid into the popular destination and attempted to avoid eyes as he tried to get a gist of the floor plan. Something to drink sounded great, something to fuel him on the trip out of town, but finding that was going to be difficult.

Cybil: Loud boisterous men along with half naked woman filled the establishment. It wasn’t a bright cheerful place to say the least, and she probably wouldn’t even come back here, if their food wasn’t the best in this town. She sat alone at a small table, her posture almost perfect. The large bowl of potato soup before her teased her nostrils with its rich aroma. While there were rooms available up stairs here, she chose to rent one from the place down the road. This one, wasn’t exactly somewhere one would want to rest their eyes for even a moment. Though no one had ever truly bothered her, there was still a bit of discomfort in her movements. She couldn’t help herself though, people of all types came here, and she loved to watch them all.

Her hand came to meet her cheek as she stirred the soup. It was still much to hot to eat. Her sun bleached hair was strewn this way and that, crazily over her brow. Light mocha hues skipped from person to person as her lithe frame leaned back in her chair. The place was packed today, only a couple empty seats left: one, directly across from her..

Nayto: Milos passed a glance throughout the established. It wasn't the best place in the world, but it wasn't the worst. In all the uncounted time he'd been aimlessly traveling, he'd seen some of the worst eateries in the world. Unfortunately, this town lacked any definitive eatery, so a pub it was. Usually pub food wasn't that great and he had some food in his pack, anyways. Something to drink would've just been fine. Preferably something non-alcoholic. What this place lacked that even the worst places had, though, was an actual bar. He couldn't go up, order a tall glass of something cold and refreshing, pay, and leave. He had to be waited on--he had to take a seat somewhere and wait for someone to come by and ask him for his order. Oh well. It was fine, in any case. He'd just have to find a seat--like one right over there! A woman sat alone, at the only table with spare chairs, and she seemed nice enough. She wasn't howling and making a big scene, after all!

"Umm, miss?" Milos asked sheepishly once he was standing before the table, "May I sit here?"

Cybil: Lost mainly in her own thoughts, she didn’t even see the young man approach her table until his voice broke through. Startled, she jerked slightly, but offered him a smile none the less.

“Of course, please do.”

Her voice was warm, welcoming, and oh so sweet. Her dialect articulated with precision. She did however, take a minute to allow her eyes to sweep over him. Were it not for her uncanny eye for detail, she may very well assumed him a girl.

Her hand outstretched over the table toward him. “I’m Sorano.” She completed that with a friendly nod. “The soup here is wonderful, but the meat...always a little questionable to me.”

She laughed at her own words quietly. To offend someone in a place such as this would be beyond a squabble.

Nayto: "Thank you," replied Milos with quiet contentment as he pulled the chair back, set his travel bag down beside of him, and sat.

Sorano was a fairly strange name, but so was Milos! He couldn't justify considering it strange in the least. Milos took her hand with a smile, shaking it with a slightly dainty grip.

"I'm Milos." Soup . . . soup . . . that actually didn't sound like a bad idea. He didn't know all that many soups, so it wasn't like he was going to be all that picky. "Where do you think I could order some?" Milos asked with genuine curiosity, glancing from one end of the room to the other once more, looking for any potential server or bar or anything along those lines--anything to possibly get him some soup and a couple glasses of water.

Cybil: “You’re most welcome.” She gave his hand a shake and pulled her own back to the glass of water in front of her. A small slice of lemon danced in the liquid as she brought it to her lips and listened to his as he spoke. He almost came across naive, more so then she. With a half smile, and the sound of her glass returning to the table, she banged loudly with her fist on the table top. It’s unsteadiness made it shimmy slightly, but promptly, a server would appear beside them.

While she still had much to learn, it didn’t take her long to figure out how these people worked. Simple, almost rude behavior got you the attention you desired in these places. When it came to nourishment, she wasn’t above sinking to those means. “It’s my pleasure to meet your acquaintance Milos.” She glanced up at the waitress. “Hello again, ma’am. He’ll have what I am, please.” Without another word exchanged the woman was off to fetch the food. “So, Milos, do you live here?” Small talk, much better then sitting in silence.

Nayto: Of course, Milos didn't expect something like that. Naive he was, just a bit, but not excessively. He knew when people wanted to hurt him. He knew when people had to be hurt. Rudeness wasn't his thing, though. Milos was just terrible at not, not when he didn't have a good reason to truly dislike a person--and he could only hate one person at a time! That gap was already filled, too. Milos was surprised, even jumped back a little, when the woman slammed her hand upon the table to get a server's attention, and once the server was there, Milos could only utter a nervous laugh. Soon, the server left, and Milos awkwardly--bashfully, even--scratched the back of his head. He always hated to seem rude . . .

"I~ do not. I've actually just been here for a day. I was just planning on getting something to drink and maybe some soup since you mentioned it, before I start off down the road again. What about you?"

Cybil: “This is my third night here. In the morning, I’m continuing on though.” She took a small bite of her soup and swallowed it down before continuing. “I’ve stayed long enough to make some money for a few supplies. Where I am headed yet, I do not know.” Odd words perhaps for a woman of her age, size and stature. As if, she had some huge purpose she was choosing to left unspoken.

“If you would prefer, we could travel together. My room is paid up for another night. It’s plenty big enough for two.” She understood all, too well how her words might have came across, though there was nothing shady about the offer. The simple fact was, it might be pleasant to have some company on the journey, she had spent too much time alone.

Nayto: Likewise, for anyone who saw Milos as a girl, it was strange to hear him talking about going out on his own. Especially with his handicap: Milos actually had only one arm. Currently, though, he was wearing a long sleeved that was three sizes too large on him, and it made it look as if he really did have a left arm, at least until he adjusted himself. Milos had only his right arm; the left was gone at about the middle of the bicep. Nonetheless, he could understand that want and need to travel.

"I've been doing the same, actually!" he proclaimed with a flamboyant joy, calming almost immediately thereafter to cough awkwardly and smile sheepishly. "Walk, and then make money to walk to the next place, and then just keep going until I run out of money . . ."

Why, of course, he didn't indulge. Though, he couldn't deny that it'd be nice to have someone to travel with--at least for a little while. Milos didn't really plan on accruing a permanent traveling partner any time in the near future. That wasn't quite the goal of his wanderings.

"If you have room for me, that could be nice! Umm, where are you going from here, though?" There were three roads, northwest, south, and west. Not too much too choose from . . .

Cybil: As the young man shifted his weight, she did take note that the sleeve of his shirt was half empty. She did not stare, or even ask questions about it. It was our differences that made us unique, who we are. His joyous outburst caused her to laugh out loud.

“Well, seems we have the traveling thing down pat then, don’t we.” She finished up the last bite of soup, and washed it down with another gulp of her water. “Of course there is room. My possessions are meager to say the least. I’ll just need to pack before sleep, so in the morning there is no time wasted in leaving.”

She dropped some money on the table, enough for both meals, and then some. “The direction means little to me, so if there is somewhere you need to go, that is the way we will venture. Oh, and don’t forget your pack...if you look away for a second, it might be gone.”

Pillaging....these men and woman would take anything.

Nayto: Before they readied to leave, the server had come back with Milos's soup and water--which he readily consumed with dainty progression. He didn't want to make his new aquaintance wait too long, though!--so, he was a bit quicker than he'd have been normally. However, she didn't have to pay for him. That was just too kind of her.

"Th-thank you very much," he accepted her help quite graciously, never one to be rude and say that someone shouldn't have helped him--or anything like that.

It always sounded to him as if a person was being rude and not accepting help when they did that! Milos reached down and picked up his bag again, slinging it over his shoulder. He had to carry it with the strength of his arm, too, by holding onto the strap--which, while having only one arm, really creating some trouble.

"I'm actually heading north. I've been on this road since, um . . . Cizok, I think it was called. I've just been walking north since then, seeing where it goes."

[Nayt]

Idle Wandering // Fin.