taxonomites | [Location: The Market] Stalling out

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[Location: The Market] Stalling out

This is completely terrifying.

Somewhere at the outskirt of the Market, Metody has rented a stall with the last of her money and some very fast talking. She sits at the front of it, giving the world a tense, edgy smile.

She is not wearing her environmental suit, and that is completely terrifying. Appearances matter and no one looks friendly in a black space suit, and so it is stashed under the tablecloth. In it's place, Metody is wearing her impression of business dress: Electric pink jeans, a green blouse, a blue net scarf and a blazingly purple jacket. She's done something complicated with a pink ribbon to one arm, and there's a band of carved ivory flowers holding back her hair, and okay, it's maybe not the most staid of outfits, but the jacket means it's professional, right? And so does the scarf.

Her wares are displayed as attractively as she could manage: on one side, delicate carvings of bone - little boxes with geometrical or botanical themes, long strands of interlocking beads, flowers with petals so thin that light shines through them, intricate ivory hair ornaments. On the other side is meat of the operation, ha ha: purplish venison steaks and what looks at first glance to be chicken thighs and cutlets, but is actually rabbit. She's even got a(n ivory) plate of samples with frilly toothpicks sticking out of them, and neatly hand printed recipe cards.

There is paper and string to package up the meat, and little boxes for the jewelry and carvings, and if no one buys anything, she is facing a long walk home followed by another meal of yet more freaking venison and rabbit.

She might just try eating grass and rocks instead. Or she'll try staring at the crowd and willing them into purchasing.

C'mon. C'mooooooooon.

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Jason Blood strolls through the marketplace with hands in his pockets, gaze wandering from booth to booth. After the cold, even the most anti-social of people find it good to be among at least the semblance of people.

Metody's brightly-attired self draws the eye (how could it not) while also making that eye ache. Jason watches from several booths away for a moment, and eventually approaches, giving the pale and tense stall proprietor(ess?) a small, measured nod.

He is not at all looking at the wares on display, merely at Metody.

"Um."

Metody stares right back, a touch wide-eyed, then takes a small step backwards.

"....Hello. How are you?"

Jason studies Metody a wordless moment. Since the encounter at the mountain he has been thinking about what he knows of Metody, which, really, is precious little, other than that he has control of bones in some fashion and that he's.... connected to that thing of nightmarish proportion that he had sensed.

Yet Metody doesn't entirely seem to be aware of that. Oh, aware of the first, yes. The second... is another matter.

One which, he must admit, is not really his concern. Unless Metody becomes hostile, which seems unlikely.

"Well enough, thank you," he says before the silence can get much more awkward. Jason drops his gaze to the wares for sale, examining one of the strings of beads a moment.

"I believe the last of my bruises from that mountain have faded. And yourself?"

Fortunately, the chances of Metody becoming hostile are slim to none. Fleeing is much more her style.

"I'm...trying to treat it all as a monstrous dream. It was..." She trails off. She's killed plenty of animals, and not just in Taxon. Lots of creatures have met their end at her metaphorical hands. But these creatures were unpleasantly person like. "I didn't like it."

The beads are carved to look like fish, one swimming after another in a long ivory chain. They have delicately faceted scales, and round, goggling eyes.

"The warmer weather is nice, though."

"I do not imagine most people would 'like' it. I found it unpleasant myself."

Mostly because he dislikes being half-frozen and banged up, but that's a moot point.

Jason doesn't deign to respond about the weather-- his interest in most small talk is practically nil, and he sees no reason to fake it with Metody of all people-- but he is (to his own surprise) rather genuinely interested in the craftsmanship of the beads.

Of course, if you can reshape bone as he witnessed the bone-steed doing, then such work as this would certainly be-- easier. He lets the fish-links slip through his fingers, then sets it down to inspect another, eyes flicking sideways to glance over the meat as well.

"These are well-made," he says of the beads, scrutinizing the next string. Bone is accounted for-- Metody uses that, he presumes, in a myriad of ways-- and the meat, leaving only....

"What do you do with the hides?"

There was some reshaping, yes. But the details, the subtle shimmer of the faceted scales, the grace of the curling fins, the smoothness of the finished surface - that was all carefully cultivated skill.

Of which she is justifiably proud. She all but glows at the compliment. "Thank you!"

"Ah...not much, I'm afraid; I don't have the materials for tanning. I'm hoping to purchase some, though."

Jason does not particularly want fish beads, but looking through the other options on display, he may not have anything that is less cutesy to choose from.

He glances up at that, thoughtfully. "Really."

He checks his balance-- rather less than he would like, in a perfect world, but it's enough to afford an investment.

"Perhaps I can suggest a business proposition..?"

There's one less cutesy option - Metody made a little box in one of her Daisybelle shapes. The creature's skull rests on the tablecloth, nesting admist a tangle of folded limbs. An errant spine is squiggled across the top of the skull, knotted up to form a little handle for the lid.

There are lush, thorn-petalled flowers scribed on the entire inside of the brain case.

"Yes, it's - I'm not familiar with all the plants here, and while there are certainly ways to, uh, make the right chemicals myself, um, I'm pretty sure no one would want anything to do with the leather that I - " soaked in my own concentrated, poisonous urine.

"Yes?"

His fingers wander over to that, a faint smile on his lips for the recollection of his steed-through-the-snow in what was still, even by his standards, an odd ~~and gory~~ day.

"--mm. Yes. Well. I require parchment; I have not yet found it at any of the shops I have looked, in the city.

"I've made parchment in the past but it's tedious, and I have no use for the other detritus of a butchered animal, at least, at this point.

"If you can provide me with freshly skinned hides , I can soak them in lime, which I have seen for sale. From there I can produce the parchment, which you could add to your goods for sale, beyond what I would keep for myself. And if there are other chemicals that you need for the tanning, I should also be willing to help front the cost of those, if that is the issue at hand."

For all that it looks delicate, the little box has a solid heft. Goodness only knows what he could keep in it; the whole thing is no larger than the average orange.

"I would be very happy to do that. I hate throwing out the hides when they could be so useful - it' so terribly disrespectful."

There's always things he can use a small box for. Incense, perhaps.

"Well then," he says, "it appears we have a deal. I am pleased to hear it. And how much for the box?"

She glances down, then blinks and smiles. She'd included that one to round things out, really.

"I'm pleased with that one. I think it turned out well."

Metody has actually done some research, but there is not exactly a rich supply of hand carved trinket boxes in the city. So the number she names is higher than anything she found, but vastly lower than what she'd charge back home.

Of course, back home, there is a practical use for such things.

"It's charming." (Whether Jason actually finds the skull motif charming or is simply letting his mouth auto-pilot through Social Courtesies without thinking them through well is debatable.)

The price earns a glance down at his bracelet, to verify his balance (apparently when you play hooky from your ostensible 'job' for most of a month, it does negatively impact your bank account in this absurd, ridiculous prison city), then nod. Affordable enough.

"I'll take it. When do you anticipate next having fresh hide?"

(Jason's bracelet beeps; Metody's bank balance increases by a modest but triumphal amount!)

His unthinking pleasantry nets him a brilliant smile. She actually blinks at the beep - holy cow, she sold really sold something? Oh, gosh, she'd thought that no one would buy at all.

"Thank you! Do you want me to wrap it for you?"

"I will go out hunting tomorrow, weather permitting. Do you need the hide specially processed, or will scraped clean do?"

"I suppose I run the risk of chipping it otherwise," Jason admits re: wrapping, and passes the box back over towards the happy Metody.

He again studies the boy-- girl?-- a moment after that question. He's quite tempted to say "unshredded", but after that business inside the mountain it is clear that Metody wishes to pretend he has no association with the bone creatures. Jason finds this tedious-- he would quite like to ask questions about it, honestly-- but at the same time, he respects the privacy of others in the specific way that only someone with their own unpleasant secret does so. There is no need for him to press, or to bring it up at all.

"Simply scraped clean of the flesh, yes. Thank you."

Metody would only find that baffling, Jason. Just like she's baffled by all the other accusations. There's nothing to see here, she's perfectly normal, just friendly, that's all.

All she's got is the same brown paper as she wraps the meat in, but such is life. At least she's efficient about it, and clever with the string.

"Alright. Where should I- " Wait, prepositions. " - to where should I bring it?"

Ah, but Jason wouldn't be accusing if he said anything. Which he isn't.

He watches Metody's pale slender fingers on the box, then takes the little wrapped parcel with a nod.

"...wherever I am on the map, I suppose," he says with a shrug of mild dismissal for such logistical concerns. "I will mostly likely be either at my home or at Tamper & Trick."

"Alright. I will come find you once I have some hide for you."

Or a hide. Showing up with multiples would be a bit over the top. Who'd believe someone as small as Metody killing and butchering multiple deer in one day?

She gives him a rather shy, thrilled smile. "Thank you for buying something."

(Jason would, but that's because he saw the bone Cuisinart in action, okay.)

"You're welcome," he says, rather formally, and also rather formally he gives Metody a slight bow from the waist, a century out of fashion.

"Good day to you," he says then, because Jason Blood really doesn't do small talk.

Metody smiles and bobs the briefest curtsy ever in response. It might look a little silly, but that's because she's not in a skirt.

"Good day!"

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