Scent of Home
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#1
Adam was beginning to find his feet. He'd explored a little, met some new people, got himself accommodations (that despite his host's intentions, were going to be permanent) and was beginning to sort of, maybe accept that he wasn't getting home.

However, none of that gave him anything to do. Sure, there were farm chores for Nate or helping Maea with sheep, but neither of those were careers. Or at least, not the kind of glamorous, legendary careers he wanted. There was little need for a highwayman without properly set roads or nobles, and none even for a common thief when everything was free. There wasn't even a brothel or an inn to sing songs at. Sure, there was the Rathskeller...but Adam suspected the people there might not appreciate the kind of songs he had to sing. Given all they had at the moment was a guy tooting away on a flute...

With so little to do he had taken to wandering about trying to find things to help with (or mess with). It was this he was doing in the settlement when he caught a scent of baking, sweet things cooking in an oven. It smelled like the cakes he'd gotten from roadside stalls at home, things he used to buy from town bakeries...before Adam really knew it, he'd waltzed into the bakery with a confidence usually reserved for entrances into bars full of sour-faced thugs. Coffee followed along at his heels, twirling between his legs yet never seeming to trip him up.

He looked at the things on offer. Could he just...take them? There was no money here, after all (and he wasn't opposed to theft of course, but he wanted to know when he was stealing). Clearing his throat, he looked for someone in attendance.

"Hey? I dunno how the hell I'm meant to pay people around here, but can we make a deal for a piece of cake?"



ADAM
So what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?
It's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#2

In the quiet days, the lull between deaths, Amalia finds solace in baking. Kneading bread is a muscle memory by now; she basks in the repetition, the easy act of creating something cohesive from from disparate ingredients through nothing but movement and the magic of food. On days like these she likes to prepare, and so it is today that the baker has a collection of confections brewing: small seed cakes fresh in the oven, a tray of round loaves proving nearby, and a sweet bread coming together in a bowl, ready to be turned out and kneaded.

As the dough comes together beneath her fingers the baker hums, her voice a melodious note in the stillness, a bright alto strain of life in the dusty shop. It is a cozy place, to be sure, illuminated as it is by the soft red luxere antler above the door and the warm Flowerbirth sun which peers through windows, and Amalia cuts a cozy figure within. Dressed in a simple grey tunic and dark skirt, she wears an apron to shield her clothes, honey hair pulled into a long and loose tail.

She does not hear the stranger enter: she has dipped into a back storage space, though the tune she keeps and the clatter of pans betrays her presence in the shop. Grabbing a tray she comes back around; it is not until he speaks that she raises her eyes, song dying abruptly on her lips, to be replaced by a flush.

"Ah-" she begins, taken aback, dark eyes glancing over him with keen, unapologetic curiosity. "Yes- That is, there's some cakes in the oven- ah..." Fading off, she raises a hand self-consciously, pushing a wayward lock of hair behind her left ear.

amalia
been talking to myself forever
and how I wish I knew me better
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: lancydulac Offline
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Posts: 1,044 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#3
After his words someone did appear, a woman who looked every bit a homey baker sort from her big sweater and messy tail of hair. The sight of her made him smile, actually, just the simple knowledge that normal people existed here who just wanted to make bread. Not really his kind of thing, but...it was nice to know not everyone spent their time moping about and being sarcastic.

What he noticed after her clothes was the way she was blushing, pushing hair behind her ear. She seemed shy, bashful. Immediately Adam assumed this was because she was taken with him, uncontrollably and suddenly in love as all who laid eyes on him had to be.

He leaned up onto the counter, fixed her with his best charming smile (one corner of his mouth higher than the other, smouldering eyes, hair pushed back and an eyebrow ever so slightly raised) and spoke in a suddenly much lower, kinder tone. "Well hey, don't rush anything along for me, yeah? I'm just new here and looking for all the help I can get. What's your name? I'm looking for new friends too."
ADAM
So what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?
It's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#4

Amalia's piercing gaze continues to track him, sable eyes bright with interest as they drink him in. He is dressed in black and leather, belts and chains: a tableau of otherness which fascinates the girl. So absorbed is she that she does not notice him moving until he is there, leaning forward on her counter, a strange sort of smile upon his face. Instinctively she takes a step back, blinking rapidly, the flush returning to her cheeks.

She cannot recognize the thing he is doing at flirting, though something in her belly flutters in response. It is an instinctive dance, one even the unpracticed can fall into, stumbling and mumbling and ever at a loss. She wipes her hands upon her apron again, not sure what else to do with them, with herself, with this strangely dressed and strangely acting man. The bowl of dough stands between them like a shield, ready for kneading, making the air sweet. "Ah..." she repeats, somewhat lost, her eyebrows furrowed above a bemused smile. "Amalia. Amalia Chandrakant. And you?"

amalia
been talking to myself forever
and how I wish I knew me better
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: lancydulac Offline
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Posts: 1,044 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#5
Amalia, delightfully, seemed lost and flustered by his approach. She was so in love with him. Adam's smile turned from one of carefully practised seduction to a genuine expression of happiness. It had been a while since he'd managed to charm anyone.

"Amalia. That's a nice name." He commented, lacing the simple words with as much charm and meaningful glances as he could. "I'm Adam Pikely, used to be pretty well known back where I came from - I will be here too, eventually. I'm usually a bit of a scoundrel, but don't worry. I'm not working right now. Your cakes are safe."

He stepped back away from the counter then, knowing that you had to give people some space so you didn't become a creep. There was charm and there was coming on too strong. "So you own this place? Or you just work here? It's nice, smells good. I missed proper baked stuff from home." The word 'stuff' was began with a 'sh-' that was quickly corrected, Adam clearly censoring himself for the good of the shy seeming woman.
ADAM
So what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?
It's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#6

He just keeps looking at her. Not staring, per se, but looking, his expression conveying some meaning the baker cannot parse. Is there something on her face? Unconsciously she reaches up to wipe her cheek, pushing a lock of hair back in the process, the blush still on her cheeks. Her lower lip  slips between her teeth, an anxious habit for uncomfortable situations. She is both bemused and fascinated, entirely unsure what to do with the strange interest from the strange man. Dark eyes narrow as he introduces himself as a scoundrel- why would anyone want to be known for that? "Were they in danger before?" she wonders, hand slipping almost protectively over the pendant on her chest. Has he come to rob her, is that what this is?

The sigh of relief when he backs away is nearly loud enough to be audible. Dropping her hands back to the counter, Amalia regards the man as he speaks again, his interest in the bakery soothing some of her ruffled feathers. "It was my grandmother's," she says. No explanation: Amalia's grandmother had been well-loved, and her loss on Long Night is a well-known tale. any Natural would know the story, and as for Outlanders... well.

She cannot help the smile at his praise, happy to be acknowledged, however offhandedly it may be. "Was there something I could help you with today, Adam?"

amalia
been talking to myself forever
and how I wish I knew me better
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: lancydulac Offline
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Posts: 1,044 | Total: 8,707
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#7
"Ha! No, not really. I don't really know how to steal here anyway, since there ain't no money. But don't worry. I only ever took shit from the rich." Adam smiled as if this was immensely comforting, not realising the slightly insulting implication that Amalia had to be poor. (Also, this wasn't strictly true. He stole from the rich and also anyone who had something he wanted).

She seemed to relax a little. Adam smiled at the information about her grandmother, thinking it sweet that she'd kept the business. The kind of life he could never imagine, taking on a cake shop from a sweet old lady. The only family business he'd ever had had been distinctly more salacious.

"Uh, well. I'm just hungry, really. I came here bout uh...I dunno, three weeks ago maybe? And I still don't really know what the hell I'm doing. I thought we were all dead but...I guess not, cos I met the raggy thing and it said I'm not." He shrugged, apparently unbothered by the concern of his potential death.

"You...been here forever? Or did you drop in too?" Probably forever, if the shop had been her grandmothers, but Adam didn't want to assume anything about this place anymore.
ADAM
So what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?
It's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#8

Adam's reassurances do not have their desired effect, though the implications of the girl's poverty pass unnoticed. As far as the Hollowed Grounds are concerned she is fairly well-established: a shopkeeper, the last daughter of a respected family. There are no rich in Caido, for their are no riches, only what one can trade for or build. An eyebrow arches on her sculpted face, and she lets her fingers slip beneath the counter to where a long length of wood lay ready, just in case.

But the man's easy smile disarms the girl, the way he speaks so lightly of his plight strangely charming, leaving her bemused. She listens intently as he tells her about his arrival, his belief that they are dead. Shaking her head, Amalia blinks at the description of a 'raggy thing'. "Ludo," the scholar quietly corrects, a stern edge to her voice, arms folding across her chest. "It holds the souls that are lost for Mort."

The question about her living arrangements elicits a half-smile from the girl, who cannot fathom any life other than this. "I was born here." Finally at ease enough to return to her work, Amalia's deft fingers dip back into the bowl of dough, pulling out the sticky mess and placing it on the counter. "What was it like, where you came from?" Pulling up her sleeves to reveal tanned, strong arms, the baker begins to knead, her dark eyes alight with curious interest as she waits for Adam's reply.

amalia
been talking to myself forever
and how I wish I knew me better
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: lancydulac Offline
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Posts: 1,044 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#9
"Ludo, yeah, yeah." Adam shrugged, speaking in a tone more appropriate for remembering the name of a friend down at the pub than a God. He was not particularly bothered about being respectful to anyone perceived as 'superior' to him, even if they had magical powers to smite him with.

He was glad to see her relax a bit, get back to her baking work (partly because it meant she wasn't scared of him, but also because he was hungry). As he suspected she was from this place, but she didn't seem as dreary or weird as the other Naturals he'd met so far.

"Oh, it's better than this place. We had guns and proper carriages and big cities and stuff. And roads, too. This place seems kinda backward." Adam paused, as if realising belatedly Amalia could potentially take offence. "But uh, your cakes look good, basically the same as back home. So um...good job. Do you have..an oven?" He wasn't sure if they just threw things on a wild fire here, given the lack of finesse.
ADAM
So what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?
It's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#10

She bristles, again, at his disregard for the sanctity of Ludo, whispering a silent apology to the errant being. The disregard of Outlanders for their customs irritates the girl: it is the reason they resist and rebel, and even now she arcs away from him, tension in her arms as they return to the counter, her jaw tight and her fingers swift as she spreads flour upon the work surface.

Kneading the sweet dough in practiced motions, Amalia listens silently to Adam's tale, cool edge fading from her obsidian eyes. Instead a spark of curiosity grows, and despite herself the girl leans forward again, disapproval giving way to interest, softening the angles of her face. "Guns?" she asks inquiringly, "And carriages? What are those? And what makes them good?"

For a second she looks like she might coil up again as he calls her homeland backwards. Pausing in her work she stares at him a moment, but swiftly returns to her bread with a shrug. "Maybe it is. Or maybe you're small-minded."

In response to his question on ovens, Amalia silently turns away, walking toward the back of the shop where the brick oven stands in proud display. With practiced finesse she grabs a wooden board, sliding it neatly under the browned seed cakes before withdrawing them from the scorching heat. The scent of them quickly fills the shop, mouth-watering and heavenly, wafting through the small space. Turning back to Adam, she deposits them upon the counter before looking at the man. "They're very hot."

And then without a word she returns to her work, beginning to split the sweet dough into smaller sections, though her sidelong gaze does not leave the thief, and a laughing challenge seems to rest in her smile.

amalia
been talking to myself forever
and how I wish I knew me better
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,044 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#11
If Adam noticed Amalia's disapproval at first he did not mention it, assuming it was just her way of making bread. Perhaps you had to push that hard. He had little respect for anyone meant to be in a position of authority over him and always had done. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism against his deep shame over his own poor origins or perhaps a need for revenge for his father's death, but it was a constant thrumming in his soul: the need to strip down the airs of the rich and divine.

"Oh, well..." He drew both his guns, holding them out for Amalia to see and twisting them to catch the light, each delicately engraved flower and branch sparkling on the body. "They send out little things called bullets real fast. It hurts." Since Edrei had been so confused with them he felt he should probably start with the basics. As for carriages... "Do you have horses here? You hook 'em up to the horse and you can ride in it or carry stuff in it. Useful."

When she called him small minded his first instinct was to draw himself back with a look of offence, but..he softened and shrugged. "Maybe you're right. I just miss home a heck of a lot. But I guess this place isn't so bad. Cute girls bake you things." He winked and picked up one of the buns immediately, taking a bite. It was very hot and he immediately felt his tongue get burnt, but he had to keep up his cool guy image. With tears in his eyes he nodded and smiled appreciatively.
ADAM
So what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?
It's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#12

"Oh," Amalia gasps in surprise as Adam produces the guns. "They're beautiful." And indeed they are, lovingly wrought specimens in glittering steel, floral and favorable, strange foreign things. Are they functional, she wonders, instruments or planters? She reaches out to pluck it from his hand, but recoils as he continues to explain, a disappointed frown marring her face. "So they're weapons. Like a bow?" The girl bends down to peer more closely, unwilling to touch them yet. Now that their purpose has been revealed, the weapons do not appear particularly functional. How could they possibly shoot anything, with no system of tension, no arrows, no stone? The vague memory of a similar weapon drifts in her mind, and the girl looks back at Adam with some satisfaction, convinced she has solved the puzzle. "Do you blow into it?"

The next description is far easier to parse. "We call those wagons," the baker replies, quietly delighted by their newfound commonality. "There's some horses- not too many inside the Grounds. Though, ah, there are a few unicorns. Companions, mostly." She shrugs.

His compliment goes unanswered but for the flush on her cheeks a quirk of her lip, but Amalia can scarcely stifle the laughter that bubbles within her as he bites into the hot cake and immediately begins to pant. Glancing at him through almond eyes, she tries to affect an air of innocence, as though she had not expected this at all. "Are they okay?" the baker questions, dark gaze widening as she peers at him through lowered lashes, letting her natural insecurity contribute a not-entirely-false quaver to her voice. "You didn't have much of a bite... you don't have to have more, if it's bad."

amalia
been talking to myself forever
and how I wish I knew me better
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,044 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#13
"Yeah, kinda like a bow...but easier." He had used a bow and arrows for a while, had hated the clunky nature of the whole thing. Pulling it back, having to balance the arrows right, keeping a quiver on your back. Why bother when there was the simple ease of firearms available? He laughed as she suggested he blow into the gun. "I mean..y'could blow into it, but it wouldn't do much good. Nah, you pull this trigger." He turned the pistol so she could see the trigger; the safety was still on so there was little chance of danger. Still, he made sure it was turned to the ground.

"Unicorns. Fucking...Unicorns." Adam shook his head with a smile, finding out new ridiculous things about this world every day. He still wasn't sure it wasn't some kind of elaborate joke as each bizzare detail was revealed.

He noted the blush on her cheeks and wiggled his eyebrows through his tears. "They're real good! Just...hot, like you said. But real good." Nodding exaggeratedly he took another bite, his mouth slowly growing used to the temperature. "Your own recipe?"
ADAM
So what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?
It's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#14

Amalia eyes the trigger with interest, still curious about the mechanisms of this weapon. It is miserably small, scarcely bigger than his hand. Such a thing, she thinks, cannot cause much harm. It is the dagger equivalent of a bow, a sling beside a trebuchet, a beautifully wrought and ornamental thing. "Do you have anything else from your world?" she asks, stepping back to once again examine him, her dark gaze tracing him from head to toe, prying and pouring as though she might find some secret there. A teasing smile pulls at her lip, one brow arching in mock ridicule. "Are those... clothes normal, where you're from?"

Turning her attention back to her work, Amalia begins to lengthen the dough, forming four long and slender ropes. She cannot help the pleased smile which rises to her face at his compliment, genuine delight painting her copper skin a glowing shade of rose. "I'm glad you've managed to find something pleasant in this backward place." The banter in her voice is softened by pleasure, the needle of her tone dulled by pride in her work.

He asks about her recipe, and a shadow passes briefly across her face. But Amalia rallies, shrugging slightly as she starts on the next piece of dough. "It's a family recipe. They all are. We've been passing them down as long as anyone can remember."

amalia
been talking to myself forever
and how I wish I knew me better


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