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“Well…” she says, her voice a bit soft. “I’m guessing it’s got something to do with us not being in the city. I mean, yeah, we’re in a city, but this ain’t our city. I ain’t got a clue where we are.” She runs her hand through her hair, before looking to Crevan. “What do we do? We can’t just stand on this corner looking like a street performers.”
“You do realize that you’re more of a street performer than I am,” he replies with a huff. “We’ll have to find some place to get directions. Anything nearby, maybe a place to eat?”
“There’s a place… looks kinda nasty though. ‘McDonald’s…. What kind of stupid name is that?” Arma sticks her tongue out and pretends to retch.
“That does sound pretty bad. Anywhere else that looks like it at least serves food that humans would consume?” After a bit of looking around, Arma spots a diner.
“There’s some kind of diner a few blocks down. Why don’t we try there? Might give us a clue as to where we are.” Crevan nods, and holds out his arm. Arma just looks at him. “Uh… the hell are you doing?”
“I’m blind, remember? And I don’t exactly know the city. So, you’re showing me there.” Arma raises an eyebrow.
“You feeling ok?”
Crevan rubs his temples. “Look, I need your help, ok? Just get me to the place so we can deal with this situation and stop with all the schtick.” Arma blushes faintly at hearing he needs her, then takes his arm.
“We should get lost more often,” she mumbles to herself with a smile. “So, the place looks like a diner. It’s called Between the Trees. Think they’ll be any good?”
Crevan lifts his head slightly, sniffing the air. “Smells good, but the name sounds awfully stupid. Like a child came up with it and nobody wanted to call him out on it.” Entering the diner, Arma takes the lead in looking for a place to sit.
It doesn’t take long before the duo is noticed by the staff inside, a long haired man being the first to spot them, his pitch black shirt bearing the Between the Trees logo front and center with his nametag just a little bit higher and to the left. Considering it’s marked as Tarzan though, it probably isn’t accurate. Making his way between the foliage themed interior he flags them down.
“Good morning,” He happily greets, if not a bit tired, “Welcome to Between the Trees! Is this your first time? I don’t think I’ve seen either of ya here yet.”
“Probably not,” Crevan says. “I don’t see you now, either. I’m blind.” He taps his glasses while Arma just rests her face in her hands. “Anyways, yes, this is our first time here, Mister....?”
“I’m way too young to be called ‘Mister’. Apparently I’m on thin ice again with my nametag, so Roy works fine.” Smirking, he holds out his hand reflexively, but then pauses once the ‘can’t see’ issue dawns on him.
Shaking his head, he instead holds it out to the girl.
Arma looks at his hand, and lifts Crevan’s to meet Roy’s. “I don’t really shake…” she says simply. Meanwhile, once Crevan’s hand takes a hold of Roy’s, his expression seems to turn a little less friendly.
“Quite an interesting grip you’ve got there… Roy, correct?”
“See, I don’t know you enough to read you,” Roy grins a bit as he retracts, uneasy behind his actor’s smile, “But yeah, still Roy. You two want a booth or table?”
“Booth,” Crevan says before Arma can say a thing. “It’s better to get a bit… away from the crowd.”
“Smooth. As. Gravel.” Arma grunts.
Blinking a couple times, Roy looks over his shoulder. “Alright, but we only have four other parties at the moment if that changes anything. Or do you want a corner?”
“A corner would be lovely,” Crevan says. ‘It’ll give me a better chance at feeling what’s going on in this place.’ “Lead the way, sir.”
“Of course,” He smiles, leading the way, “We don’t have any braille menus though, was your friend going to read it to you or did you want me to run down the highlights?”
“Arma, will you read to me~?” Crevan asks in a sweet voice.
“Not even if you were on your death bed,” Arma says bluntly. “You’ll have to handle it, Roy.”
“And that’s why, in the group, you’re the bi-”
“NOT NOW, DAMMIT.” Arma cuts him off, glaring at him, though he pays her no mind. This may or may not be due to his blindness, of course.
“Uh…” Used to a more quiet crowd, discomfort grips Roy as his joints become a bit more stiff as his eyes lock head, not wanting to check and see who all had heard. Shaking his head out of it, he finally arrives at the booth. “What are you in the mood for? Kevin was it?”
“Crevan,” he says. “It’s one of the Old World names meaning ‘Fox.’” Arma grunts at this statement, but he ignores her, continuing to speak as he takes a seat. “As for what I’d like, just give me some of every meat you have on the menu. Oh, and I’d love some tea.”
“I’d like a croissant with some chocolate sauce, and a cup of coffee. Two sugars, some cream, and some chocolate in there, too.”
“I’ll… see what I can do about the chocolate sauce,” Not quite expecting that, Roy scratches the back of his head, “We don’t have croissants though, did you just want me to bring out a bread basket instead? I don’t see much of an issue with the meat though, we’ve got venison, beef, bacon and chicken. Did you want a bun or something to go with all that?”
“Er… no buns, thanks. Just meat. Medium-rare. And yes, the bread basket will be just fine.” He casts a sightless glance towards Arma, who just blows at her hair a bit, though it doesn’t go particularly high.
“Yeah, yeah, bread basket is fine with me.” Arma looks around the restaurant. “This place seems kinda nice. Hey Crevan, think they’d wanna hire us?”
“If a position opened up soon, quite possibly….” he says, faintly smiling.
“Well if anyone dies suddenly I’ll give you a heads up,” Roy fakes a convincing smirk back, “Might want to watch the swearing though, but I’ll see about getting an application when I bring your drinks out.” Nodding, he departs.
Once he’s gone, Arma looks at Crevan. “Ok, so, what do you think? I’m getting a feeling we’re not in the right place. Like, there are things similar to where we’re from, but really different.”
“You’re right,” Crevan says, holding his chin. “I’m guessing that it’s the effects of a Link. We weren’t just transported from the city, but maybe even our world. Still, I have a feeling we’ll be alright here. There may not be any Chains about, but there may be some substitutes…. That guy, Roy, his hands are callused in a way one gets only from using guns. Clearly, he’s got experience with firearms, which means he’s a fighter. We’ll just have to find out if he’s human or not, and if dealing with him will cover my… ah, issue.
Arma nods, and keeps an eye around the diner. “At least the food’s about the same. Though, I could go for some dragon meat. It’s got that naturally smokiness to it that just goes so well with chocolate.”
“I never will figure out how you got that weird obsession….”
Crevan pulls at his hair a bit. “Arma… do you think we should worry about getting back? The technology level of this place seems a lot lower than we’re used to.”
She places her hand in her chin. “Dunno. I guess it’s kind of a problem, but I mean, we don’t seem to stick out too much. What I’m worried about is paying for the food.”
Crevan scoffs. “If it’s anything more than ten silver, then we’ll just leave. I mean, I don’t care what reality this is, that’d be way too expensive, especially when there’s no dragon meat. I bet they don’t even have fire ferret.”
“...Come again?” Drinks balanced on a tray, Roy’s once good natured faced is masked by inquery. “Alright, I usually try not to interfere with my customers’ conversations, but you’re going to have to tell me how much of that was just roleplaying. Specifically the ‘ten silver’ part...”
Arma glares at Crevan. “Well, smart guy? Anything to say?”
Crevan pushes at his shades, and shrugs. “Like we said earlier, we’re from out of town. We use different currency. You’ll have to forgive that. As for the rest, well, my sister and I enjoy giving food some more exotic names.” His tone seems to be daring Roy to rebuff his claims.
“First of all, you’re not related,” Although there was a hint of joking in his voice, it’s still blatant this wasn’t a topic he was planning on kidding around about. “Look, if you’re from out of the country then you need to get that converted. I don’t want to deny you food, but I honestly can’t afford to be paying for all my customers, which is exactly what happens when someone either dines and dashes or shortchanges us somehow.”
“Technically, I am his sister,” Arma says. “That ain’t a lie. Let’s just say I’m adopted.”
“As for shortchanging you,” Crevan says, pulling ten coins from his pocket, all sparkling and roughly the size of silver dollars, “You’re saying that these have no value? I’m perfectly fine not getting change, but I find it hard to believe that silver is so abundant as to be worthless here.”
“I’m saying I don’t know what the value of that is,” The man states, “And that I honestly can’t help you here. And that I’m also a little irritated this was your first stop, knowing fully well you’re from out of town. I can give you the address to a cash for gold type place, but beyond that there’s nothing I can do.”
Crevan shrugs, and passes the money to Arma. “Go to the address he gives you, and get those converted, please. We’ll get rest of the silver, and the bronze and gold converted later.”
“Why do I have to go?” Arma complains.
“Because I’m blind, and you need food less,” Crevan says bluntly. Arma pouts, but takes the money and looks to Roy.
“Just tell me the address. And I want that coffee nice and steaming when I get back.”
“Don’t act like I’m the villain here, I have people I need to look after myself.” Pulling out his phone, he taps a few things into the search, “There’s a place about a mile and a half from here, 683 North Main Street.”
Arma stands up. “Be back in around thirty. Save some of that meat for me, Crevan.” She gets going, heading out the door and for the business. Crevan remains in his seat, looking quite content.
“Well, I’ll assume that, as long as payment is assured, the food can still be provided, no?”
“I don’t know the weight conversion, but the bread is complimentary so I’ll just be leaving that and the drinks for now.” He pauses. “And sorry.”
“No issues,” Crevan says. “Arma is a big girl. If anybody tries to mess with her, they’ll find that a measly ten silver is not worth it. I must ask, though, what kind of money does this… country, use?”
“Paper, copper, nickel, some other metal.” Roy shrugged, “Most people just pay with cards nowadays though. And the city’s pretty nice, I wouldn’t expect any issues for her anyway.”
Crevan’s eyebrow slowly raises. “That sounds… horribly inefficient. But, I suppose, when in the wild, you live by the jungle’s law. Not to be insulting, you understand.”
“I really don’t.”
“Well, I suppose that just means I’m still not quite used to… dealing with people.” He begins to sip at his tea, cringing a bit. “I suppose it’s of an acceptable quality. This place is going to take quite a bit of getting used to.”
Forcing a light smirk, Roy shakes his head a bit. “The way you say ‘people’ makes it sound like you’re used to dealing with something else.”
“I prefer a more solitary stance, dealing with others when necessary,” Crevan says simply. “How I deal with others is entirely up to circumstance. More their circumstance than mine, but that is, in and of itself, circumstantial to say the least on the matter.”
“Alright,” Roy nods a bit at his words before glancing over his shoulder, “Well I’ll leave you to your thoughts then. I’m probably going to catch crap for standing around too long anyway.”
Crevan waves him off, and continues drinking his tea. “I wonder how much longer Arma will be….” He turns to face the window, blankly looking into a dark world as he awaits his meal, as well as his partner’s return. He doesn’t have too long to wait for one, as Arma returns, breathing heavily, a few minutes later, green bills clenched tightly in her fist. She makes her way back to the table, resting her head on it as she works to get her breathing under control. “How exactly are you out of breath? Do you actually need to breathe?”
“Fuck.. off… you…” she huffs out, not raising her head. “So… much running…. Jeez, I can’t believe all I got was a bunch of paper. ‘Fifty-one dollars’ the guy said. I wanted to punch him so badly, giving me some stinking paper. What kind of backwards yahoo place is this?”
“The kind of place where we’re going to be living for a while,” Crevan says. “We’ll just have to get used to it for the time being.”
Roy’s self control is the only thing that kept his eyes off the pair. Sneaking a quick swig of coke from the fountain drink station, he find his mind wandering, swirling in suspicion. Something is just… off about them.
Maybe the grip comment wasn’t a joke. Sliding his palm into his pocket, his thumb rolls the dart he has grown accustomed to carrying. Is it possible they know? Glancing over his shoulder he spots the girl’s exhausted return, clenching cash with some sort of disdain. Roy feels his brow raise when he notices what seemed to be her genuine confusion, which only seems supported and agreed upon by the man.
Finishing off hi