About the Town ((Atrice))

[Anonymous]

Tristan chuckled softly again. It seemed to be reversed; his companion seemed the less mature of the two at the moment. He tilted his head to the side, observing the man across from himself. He said, "Ah, don't be dissapointed. In fact, I find it rather amusing that you call me a child when I am, in fact, older than you....in a sense. Nevermind that, I need no money." He took a sip of his tea, using the fact as a little bait to lure his curiosity and keep it burning. He looked into Miraj's eyes, his gleaming. "If you are really are very curious, I can show you something interesting about me. But, we must go outside, hm?" He shifted a little, his wings aching to fly.

[Anonymous]

Miraj blinked, again. He couldn't help it -- Tristan intruiged him. And he was beginning to suspect that whatever he was, he was not an innocent teenager. When Tristan suggested they go outside, he grabbed Achashverosh -- who yelped and grabbed onto the last of the venison -- stuffed the lemur into his leather satchel, and got to his feet. Achashverosh chittered something unpleasant, but Miraj ignored him. "Outside it is, then!" he said. He wasted no time in dashing to the door, as excited as a child at a birthday party.

[Anonymous]

Tristan resisted chuckling about his obvious curiosity and followed, slowly on purpose. He walked down the street a little, and said, "you know what? I shall have you guess what it is I am going to show you. " He turned to face Miraj, crossing his arms. "Well, what it is is under my coat, but not beneath my shirt. It is not something you find on normal people. What do you think it is?"

[Anonymous]

Miraj paused. A riddle, was it? He was always up for a good riddle -- he liked to think of himself as a rather sharp tack, and any opportunity to display his cleverness was a welcome one. So he crossed his arms and held his chin between forefinger and thumb, thinking. "I would say the biggest ego this side of the contintent, but that goes much deeper than your shirt," he said. Achashverosh poked a curious head out of the satchel, his whiskers twitching. "And whatever it is, it prevented you from leaning against the chair in that tavern. So I would say... spines. You look like a spiny fellow. That, or a rather nasty rash."

Then he glimpsed something on the ground, barely visible against the dark stone of the pavement. A feather. A black feather. He paused, again, this time deliberately. "Or, he said, slowly, taking his time. "...Wings."

[Anonymous]

Tristan chuckled. "First off, I don't think you're one to be saying I have a huge ego, considering yours is not exactly small. Second off, you had a fair guess, but it wasn't correct. After all, what is under my coat helps me travel." He looked amused. What a nice little game. He hadnt played such a game in so long. Then, he heard the correct answer. He nodded. "Ah, you are correct. Wings. But, you'll have to convince me to show you them. Perhaps I'll even let you see me fly."

[Anonymous]

"Hmm. As tempting as your offer may sound, I don't think I'm curious enough to jump through hoops like your little pet, just to catch a glimpse of what are undoubtedly some very ragged, ill-groomed wings. Don't you know that keeping them bound up like that attracts fleas and mold?" He clucked his tongue sympathetically. "You really ought to take off that coat. Not for my benefit -- for your own." He smiled, knowing that it was a rather pathetic attempt at manipulation. He wasn't really trying to get the boy to take off his coat, he was trying to convey the fact that he couldn't care less. Reverse psychology -- it worked all the time.

[Anonymous]

Tristan chuckled. "Ah, I don't see what you'd know about wing care. After all, you have none." He yawned. "Think what you will about my wings, but you'll never know if they are ill-groomed or not until you see them. Of course, you clearly stated that you do not want to see the rare sight of a winged person, so I will spare you of the view." He turned around, walking down the street, facing away from Miraj.

[Anonymous]

Miraj felt his face going hot with anger. No one turned their back on Miraj -- not without some serious repercussions. He folded his arms across his chest, a dark stormcloud darkening his features. "Achash, dear," he said, in a voice too quiet for Tristan to overhear. "Teach that child a lesson, will you? Don't do anything too permanent."

"Aye aye, cap'n," the demon replied. All at once he was a bat, slicing through the air with outstretched wings. The bat soared past Tristan's head, wheeled around in midair, and made a beeline straight for the boy's face. At the last moment, though, it shapeshifted into a massive hunting hawk. It swept past Tristan's head, but not before raking a single, sickle-curved talon along the boy's scalp. It was a warning shot -- not enough to cut to the bone, but quite enough to draw blood. The hawk flew a couple more meters to land gracefully on Miraj's shoulder.

(ooc: I don't want to powerplay, so Tristan's welcome to try and dodge that blow if you want ;))

[Anonymous]

Tristan was quite surprised to see that their game had taken a darker turn. He found he had a hawk flying at his face at high speed, and dodged it just barely out of a lucky reflex, within less than an inch of being hit. He put himself back in a standing position, slowly turning around. "Excuse me, sir, but I don't see why you just tried to hurt me. I was simply acting upon what you said, you didn't want to see it. So, I figured I should leave." He shrugged. "Say what you mean. What is it you want?"

[Anonymous]

"Well," Miraj said, "A little respect would be nice." He paced forward a few steps, his arms still folded moodily across his chest. The hawk on his shoulder kept his face fixated on Tristan, a malevolent glimmer in his yellow eyes. Miraj cocked his head, a slow smile spreading over his features. "But now that you mention it... I would like to see those wings of yours."

[Anonymous]

Tristan nodded. "Well, I'm sorry for upsetting you." He sighed, appearing to be in thought about something at first. Then, he shrugged and looked around himself, finding that this particular part of the street was pretty much deserted. He unbuttoned his coat slowly, letting it fall onto the ground. His black wings caught the light a little, showing that they were in fact well groomed. He extended them outward, saying, "well now. Any questions?"

[Anonymous]

Miraj let his jaw drop. He'd seen winged men and women before, rare though they were -- but never up close, and never black wings. He took a few tentative steps forward, a grin of satisfaction lighting up his face. He'd already forgotten the fact that he'd ordered his demon to attack Tristan; for Miraj, that was just water under the bridge. "So... black wings, hm? Does this make you some sort of fallen angel?"

[Anonymous]

Tristan shook his head, looking a little amused. "Ah, no. I'm just another man roaming the earth, looking for something." He folded his wings in a little, partly extended. "Perhaps a man with different features and powers than most, but still just another man roaming the streets." He brushed a bit of dust off of one of his wings.

[Anonymous]

Miraj raised an eyebrow, perplexed. "All right. I believe you. I must say, you interest me, Tristan." He ventured a few more steps forward, till he was no more than a hand's breadth away from him. He peered straight into Tristan's eyes, as if trying to read him, or peer into his soul. "I think we will meet again. Very soon. But for now, I think I'll leave you alone to nurse your wounds. I apologize for my familiar; he has terrible manners."

The hawk-Achashverosh made a little caw of distain, but said nothing else. Miraj lifted a hand to stroke him absently. He nodded to Tristan, the ever-present smile dancing on his face. "Till later, Tristan. I'll be thinking of you." His grin widened deviously -- let Tristen interpret that however he wished. For now, Miraj turned on his heel and strode into the crowd, still smiling secretly to himself. What an interesting boy...