Henri turned around watching Roland stand there dumbfounded at what he said, offering him a dumbfounded expression of his own. As far as he was concerned his moat was an awesome idea, Roland was either retarded or gay if he didn't agree.

"Really?" He pretended to sound surprised. "I guess I should throw the can I've kept since I was seven out. Been savin it for a special occasion." Henri spoke sarcastically and seemed almost angry, and he was a bit. They were good friends but with the amount of alcohol still coursing through his veins it wouldn't be too unlikely if they got into a fight about candy moats before they got there."I'm saying if you would you could Captain Buzzkill, geezes. Besides you're-"

Henri was about to tell Roland that if he wasn't any better looking than he was, but instead of saying a remark that was more than likely to earn him a good punch, some loud screaming about a giant crack drowned him out.

"The fuck're they goin on about?" He asked Roland, changing the subject completely.

"Probably your mom," he said in an almost too serious kind of way; he really didn't care too much for what the men were actually talking about and really, from the sounds of it, it only affected the Duncan family, and that made it no concern of Roland’s or Henri’s. Plus, since neither of them seemed interested in stopping to listen to the full conversation, Henri’s guess would have been just as good as Roland’s.

“Look,” Roland pointed towards where the road started to bleed into a bend and then move into a small decline. Their destination was right at the end of the road, and Roland was about ready for some delicious fish at this point; he was sure Henri was too.

It would only take a quick few minutes to reach the docks; literally, Henri and Roland would simply have to go down hill and they’d be smack-dab-in the middle of their destination.

Like always, the docks were alive, busy and bustling with people. There were a large amount of fishing boats catching their daily haul offshore and crates of shipments were being loaded and unloaded onto and off of ships; tents and tables had been pitched alongside the exterior end of the docks and merchants yelled and shouted and hollered for visiting sailors to buy their wares; and there was also a spectacle that caught Roland (and probably Henri, too) off guard: at the right-most-end of the dock was an impossibly large ship that Roland could scarcely wrap his mind around. Unlike what River’s End was used to, this ship was not made of wood, but of metal and something else; it shined and shimmered in the sun; and a literal army of men were removing equipment and boxes from the ship.

At this point, with his curiosity piqued, Roland would rush ahead of Henri, and vanish into the crowd of people.

"Ya, she's the talk of the town." Henri cared about the Duncan's business as much as Roland did. Some farmers were yelling about some dirt or something, it seemed like standard farmy type stuff, what farmers do. He didn't give a shit. By now it was far past lunchtime, and he and his stomach agreed that they needed something to eat.

They wouldn't have to wait long though, because right down the end of the road were the docks, the most popular and busy part of River's End. The air around him stunk of the catches made that day. Merchants yelled at passers by to buy their wares and every space was occupied with messes of netting, crates and mostly people. The sheer volume of people at the docks was overwhelming and required delicate evasive maneuvering unless you wanted to step on someone or something. Henri would have to tread carefully unless he wanted stray fish hooks jammed in between his toes.

A flash of light shone in Henri's eyes off the side of a huge towering steel structure. The sun shone off of it like some kind of beacon. Compared to the other wooden tinderboxes of ships this one was giant and made of steel. It's presence commanded the attention of everyone at the docks. What was it for? It couldn't be for fishing, large cargo maybe? GIANT cargo? Oil? Whatever it was it had both Roland and Henri's attention.

"Hey wait!" Henri cried out after Roland, chasing after him into the dense crowd, looking all over for him.

No matter how hard Henri looked he would find that Roland was just quite simply nowhere to be found. The dock was just too crowded today and it was near impossible to really get around either, especially with all the deckhands removing so much supply from the large, ominous ship of mysterious design and origin. Regardless, the more Henri focused his search around the ship, the more he would notice that the crew for the ship was not as light-skinned as he and the other citizens of River’s End were; instead, they ranged from a dark tanned color to varying shades of brown and black. If Henri had any knowledge of his country as a whole, he would know these men and women came from the southern state of Sigma: Escona - Escona was the backbone if Sigma--and also considered a slave state by the other three territories.

Towards where the ship was docked was a large brown-skinned man, there were scars running up and down his face, sweat beading atop his brow, and his clothes were full of rips and tears; he was shouting orders at the rest of the dark skinned men, directing them in their jobs and assisting as needed. A small ways behind him was an elderly woman, this one light-skinned, who seemed to be watching the commotion with interest, but otherwise unoccupied; likewise, there were a great deal more people simply wandering the dock (and some occasionally bumping into Henri, shouting curses and ‘suggestions’ that he remove himself from the middle of the dock, and there even was something said about throwing himself into the ocean or some such.)

At any rate, it may be in Henri’s best interests to ask someone if they had seen Roland or even his father, Mr. Dufort--he managed the docks, after all. For any ship or boat to use the dock, they had to of seen the Dock-master first in order to pay their dues and get permission to conduct business; in other words, just about everyone on the dock could potentially help Henri out.

"Nyeh Henri let's go to the docks and get some breaaakfasst!"

It was his best Roland impression, done in a high pitched girly voice. Sure they should go and get a bite to eat here right? Then Roland could lead him here so he could fuck off and ditch him in a crowd. Great idea. Now he was standing alone in the middle of an angry crowd with no idea where to go, what to do and most importantly, no breakfast.


"Geezes." Henri muttered to himself and pushed through the crowd, trying to avoid eye contact with the angry Esconians who he kept accidentally bumping into. He shuffled through the people until he found a spot a bit less occupied behind a merchant's tent, so he could have some room to think.

Roland must have seen something soooo interesting that he had to run off. The ship was unusual, the people were foreign and he was a bit curious about what they were doing but it meant nothing to him. Nothing could be worth his attention other than some breakfast (or lunch at this point) and he needed to do the following: find Roland, and some food.

The best way to do it would be to just ask somebody where he or his father was since more people would know who he was. He didn't want to ask any of the people around here since they all wanted to throw him in the ocean and approaching Roland's father in his current, sloppy recovering from a hangover state would earn him a good scolding. Not to mention he had no idea where his son went.

"Damnit...Uh...excuse me ma'am?" He slowly approached the elderly woman, making extra sure not to get in the giant scar covered man's way and talked to her in the most polite way he could possibly fake. His voice even became a bit sweeter. "I'm sorry I don't mean to bother you but...have you seen Mr.Dufort or his son? It's okay if you haven't..." Asked the messy haired sloppily dressed sweaty teen who was missing a shoe as kindly as he could.

For a small, fierce moment the elderly woman would flash Henri eyes that would make him reconsider his choice in aid. The old bag's look was one of discernment and distrust, and Henri would feel a sensation--was it fear?--run up and down his spine with a chill that pricked at the back of his neck.

And yet, all at once the woman’s looks and the odd sensation would soften, but not disappear entirely.
“Ah? No,” the woman spoke with a clearly foreign accent, “I can’t say that I have."

The woman gave Henri a small smile and bent down to pick up a large, leather-bound suitcase from the ground beside her.

“Paige.” The old woman gave her name to Henri suddenly, walking closer to him, stopping only a few inches in front of him, and placing a hand on his shoulder. The hand was light, nearly weightless, but Henri would find himself quite incapable of removing it, if he tried. Up this close, he would be able to tell that the woman was really, really old: her wrinkles seemed more a detail of her bones than her skin, her face was sunken, normal looking, but it was pretty obvious that time had ravaged this old woman without remorse. Paige was a good deal taller than the average woman of River’s End, too. She stopped just short of Henri’s own height and walked as though she knew how to handle herself. This was one intimidating granny.

“My brother n'me got separated when we disembarked,” Paige admitted with a hint of sadness behind her worlds, “and you’re missing someone, too, boy? You look a freight bit frazzled, I think. Should we look together?”

"Ah?No, I can't say that I have."

"Oh well I-i'm sorry I-"

Fear struck Henri like a bolt of lightning and he couldn't apologize fast enough. He didn't know what for but he got the idea that he had done something horrifically wrong by talking to her from the fierce look in her eyes, as if she wanted to murder him. The hand on his shoulder was so weightless and skeletal it seemed that it belonged to the Grim Reaper itself, brushing over his body long enough to drain his life away. Beneath her hand she could feel how tense his muscles were from fear, and from sleeping on the bathroom floor all night.

"Paige."

"Oh ahem..." His voice smoothed out and sweetened again while he talked to her. Aside from the obvious fact that she could take him in a fight, she seemed harmless enough, just a lost little old lady. He wouldn't turn his back on her of course, so long as this didn't take too long. "Of course Paige." He ignored the comment about his appearance by trying to get some of his hair out of his face in a feeble attempt at making himself look more presentable. " I'd love your company. Could..." Asking her this seemed kind of odd since she was fine obviously, but it seemed rude not to ask. "Could I carry that for you?"

When he found Mr.Dufort he'd dump her off there and leave her in his care, he could only kiss her ass for so long. He thought he'd ask her since she seemed the least threatening out of everyone there. Not only was he dead wrong, but now he felt obligated to help her. If only he'd asked somebody else...

Paige flashed Henri a smile and a small nod before lifting her hand from his shoulder; it would feel like a great weight had just been taken off of his chest, and there was something else, too. There was a sensation that followed the act that was both soothing and rewarding. Whatever was left of Henri's' drunken fog would subside and he would find himself fully sober.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Paige hefted and positioned the large suitcase towards Henri, and seemed to almost have been expecting his offer; regardless, it was not like the suitcase was particularly heavy. In fact, whereas Henri may have been expecting some burdensome luggage, from the weight of the case, it would seem nothing more than light, casual clothing had been packed and definitely no more than a few days worth.

“Who were you looking for again, child? A Mr. Dufort and his son,” she nodded to herself in confirmation as she ignored Henri altogether, “why’re you looking for them, again?”

The old woman gestured for Henri to not only speak, but to begin moving. They didn’t have all day to waste and this was her first time at River’s End, let alone River’s End’s docks. Henri was her guide from this point on.

Henri inhaled deeply, it would be his first breath that didn't smell like whiskey. The acidic taste of vomit wasn't staining his mouth and the world finally stood still long enough for him to get a proper look at it. He didn't make the connection between the woman's touch and his sudden recovery, but now that his head wasn't pounding and he could see straight, he could start to give her more clear, somewhat honest answers.

"Well I..."

Quickly a flash of surprise dashed across his face when he grabbed her bag. He was bracing himself for the dead weight of the thing but was shocked by how light it really was. Light enough for her to carry it herself. Regardless carrying her bag was all part of his gentleman act, and now that he started it he would have to finish it.

"I lost his son in the crowd." Was his nice way of saying that Roland basically ditched him. " So I figured his father would know where he might be. What about your brother? What's his name?" He asked to change the subject while they walked.

Offtopic: I know Henri is supposed to be a guide but I'm not sure where or what things are or what they're called. Am I allowed to make shit up? Lemme know what I'm supposed to do.

“The crowd, yes?” Paige seemed to consider, as if she were just realizing it, that the crowd was, indeed, quite large, and it would definitely be easy to lose someone in it... “A shame,” she continued: “I would have liked to meet your friend.”

For a moment, a measure of silence would befall the conversation, and the only noise would be from the large crowd and the deckhands unloading from the large ship. Orders and commands were being shouted, but their purpose and meaning were lost on Henry: they were spoken in a foreign, smooth-worded tongue. If Paige spoke this language, she showed no signs of it.

“My brother’s name is Donald, I suppose. I think that’s what he’s calling himself now, but I’m not sure. He so often changes his mind and it is troublesome to remember all of his names. People call us a lot of things, you see. We‘re kind of...” She paused, pursing her lips and thinking: famous wasn’t the right word, they were famous in a sense, but not celebrity-famous and she figured that would be the first thing Henry would think of. “You wouldn’t understand,” she concluded.

"Oh I'm sure he would have liked to meet you too."

He spoke so flirtatiously that he was just short of winking at her while he was weaving through the crowd. Henri was quite skilled in the ways of ass kissery , it got him what he wanted. Even though he did not always enjoy it, right now walking with grandma was the better of the two people he could have asked. Trying to make small talk with the burly buff dark scar ridden slave man was a challenge he wasn't up to meeting, although a working man would be more likely to know where Mr. Dufort was than a visiting nanny, fear got in the way of his judgment when he decided who to ask for help.

Now instead he ended up picking up someone as lost as he was. She wasn't so bad unless she was the type of woman involved in some kind of criminal activity so horrible that she needed to stow away on a ship to another country, change her name and lay low for awhile...

Henri would act like he didn't understand and play dumb. It was unfair so assume a nice old lady like Paige was a criminal, she could have gotten on the bad side of some kind of crime lord or was charged for a crime she didn't commit. Maybe she was just a regular old refugee escaping a war torn country. The more his mind went over the possibilities of why anyone would have more than one name, the more he wanted to hurry up and find Mr.Dufort. He did not want to be on the other end of whatever sticky business she was into.

"I'm sure everything will be fine." He said reassuringly."Do you-" Did she even remember her last name? Asking an aged woman if she remembered her own name could definitely be insulting, as if he was implying she was too senile to remember. "What's your last name?" He quickly changed his question, leading them to a set of tents peaking over top of the crowd. Sometimes he'd see Roland's dad in one of them, doing some kind of paperwork, possibly calculating shipments or schedules. Whatever it was, he hoped he was there.

Henri’s flirting did not go unnoticed by Paige, but she made no effort to put a halt to it. Actually, she kind of enjoyed it when someone could speak naturally around her; after all, it was not all fun and games being one of the most intimidating people walking Utopia. Then again, she also figured that Henry was humoring her mostly, but with so much ... life experience, this, too, did not bother her, and was just an added plus to having met the young man.

“Fine?” She questioned, but realized that Henri may have misunderstood something in what she said. Nothing was the matter, but if he wanted to think so then so be it. “Last name? Oh,” a last name, she considered, and then smiled: “We don’t have one. We don’t belong to a clan, a family or country. We’re just us, Paige and Donald.”

That seemed a fine enough explanation to her, at least, but maybe Henri would think otherwise. What was she to do about that? People were so weird about their labels sometimes and maybe it would be odd for someone with so many to think so, but she did not understand why one name was not enough of an introduction.

-- The tents were large and made of a canvas-like material that appeared rough to the touch; it was dingy and various places had been patched where the material had torn or ripped from use and poor handling. As Henri thought, Roland’s father was here, handling some important documents from the looks of things, and talking to some more of those large, dark-skinned brutes that Henri had seen over next the ship. Some voices were higher than others, it was possibly an argument, but Roland’s dad was fierce and not-in-the-least intimidated by these men.

Mr. Dufort was a large, thick-bodied man who had grown up hunting and fishing (a past time he passed onto his son, obviously) and his body was full of scar tissue and the signs of hard living. He was a respectable man, all and all, but he did appear to be somewhat busy at the moment.

At any rate, Henri and Paige would not be able to hear more of the conversation until they got closer and Henri wouldn’t be able to get Mr. Dufort’s attention from a distance, either.

No last name? He wanted to ask how she could have a brother if they didn't belong to a family, that's usually where brothers come from, unless of course he was adopted. Briefly he entertained the idea of her brother actually being one of the tall strong black men working on the docks, they could have passed him and not even know it. A man that stature named Donald? It was laughable. He chocked down a snicker (not the chocolate bar) because he didn't want to offend what was definitely the most scarey grandma he'd ever encountered.

It all stopped being funny when she mentioned she didn't even belong to a country. Everywhere (to his knowledge) was a country, he didn't know about any chunks of uninhabited uncharted land. If you weren't from the land there were only two options left, the sea or outer space. This immediately got rid of any theories he had about her life of crime and opened up a slew of horrible possibilities. Aliens, mermaids, she seemed nice enough but now if he didn't help find her brother she might go probing his anus for answers.

Well, it at least explained why she didn't have a last name. Maybe mermaids just didn't have them. " Ya who needs that kind of stuff anyway right? Oh we're here! Uh..."

They arrived at their destination, and like Henri had hoped, Roland's dad was there, but sadly, was preoccupied, the kind he didn't dare interrupt. If Mr.Dufort was just sorting through his papers he'd approach him in a jiffy, but there was no way he was throwing himself into the middle of that fight. Mr.Dufort could handle himself anyway.

"Do you have time to wait? I don't think now's a good time..." He said, picking an out of the way spot by the tent to stand until it all blew over.

"All the time in the world," Paige replied with a smile.

The argument between Mr. Dufort and the large, brutish looking deckhands seemed to flair up a little bit. Dufort and one of dark-skinned men seemed almost ready to square off, as the former threw his hands up and said something not unlike an insult about the latter’s mother.

“Fine!” Dufort shouted, “but I expect that monstrosity to be moved immediately after you finish. ”

Dufort rubbed at his temples as the men dispersed, quite happy to have them gone and away from him. He figured the feeling was mutual.

“Emperor help me,” he uttered when he finally saw Henri. “Henri! Son,” he didn’t sound too pleased, but it may have just been the argument from before. “Get over here!”

"Haha...good." Chuckling nervously he stood aside and watched the confrontation safely from a distance, anxiously fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve looking downwards, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the tent. Every now and then the booming and yelling of their voice would cause the agitated Henri to jump with a start. Trying to repress his nerves he took deeper breaths and began to collect himself. In front of Paige he had to be more strong and composed, he was supposed to be the one helping her.

But the men in the tent looked like they were going to kill each other, especially the man he needed to see. "Henri! Son, get over here!"

Obediently Henri hurried to Mr Dufort, still fidgeting with his sleeve, standing before him looking like Picasso dressed him this morning, in the dark. After the headache Mr.Dufort went through could he bare to hear what Henri had to say? "Oh hai I lost your son and this grandma with no last name lost her brother." didn't seem like a good way to approach it at all. If he said anything at all he would try his best to water down the scenario and sugar coat it, but right now the smart thing to do was not to mention the reason why he was here yet.

"Yes Mr.Dufort?"