cutting the chatter and meeting the mime
Characters: Spada and Chey
Where & When: Metropolis District Golden City Hall sometime during a daytime!
Rating & Why: G because come on. dinky aliens and dinky hotheads.
Summary: What has Spada gotten himself into...
A safer district. That's all Chey needed right then and there. Somewhere devoid of animals and beasts and overly-large people and overly-large buildings and...not...anywhere nearby, apparently.
The Metropolis District wasn't any better at all! It was worse! The buildings were taller and the people more numerous and the sounds were all but blinding in waves. He was lied too, it was awful!
Chey wanted nothing more than to flee and find someplace quiet and warm and safe, but fleeing was nigh impossible with such a light atmosphere. Booking it translated to flying and floating with arms flapping uselessly against momentum, very much at the mercy of whatever light breeze came to change his course. He went about much of the journey through the district in a blind panic, clutching corners and streetlights in a mad effort to change course or find somewhere to hide. It was some twisted stroke of fate that inevitably led him back to a familiar block with a familiar look and familiar shadows in which to stand in. Chey's wits recovered enough to recall it well - it was the first place, where all the other people were surrounded. Where Sakra and Sakra and other strangers stooped over to peer at him like the strange sight he was.
This was the place that the Spada-person said to go, yes? And then from there...northeast.
But...What way was northeast? Was it the same as it was back home? The sun moved so fast on this planet that it seemed impossible to tell! What about axial shift? He learned about that on the caravan. What if there was none here? What if what if what if what if what if...
Chey's growing anxiety was briefly interrupted by the sight of the sign. The first time he had been there, so many others were grouped around it that there was really no way for him to see it himself, but now...well, save for the occasional passer-by, it was deserted! Perhaps it could give him the information he needed. Perhaps not however. Hadn't everyone he had written to been completely unable to understand?
But on the other hand...
He carefully bounce-stepped up the handful of steps, jumping up and clutching a bit of brick to keep in place. He tilted his head, more confused than ever. He...could read this. It was plain Klovodokaravi, right there! Nobody else could read that?
Things were not making much sense, and it was spelled all out in a language he could actually understand. He hovered there, trying to lean away enough to read more of the sign from where he was. None of it said anything about a spaceport...
Where & When: Metropolis District Golden City Hall sometime during a daytime!
Rating & Why: G because come on. dinky aliens and dinky hotheads.
Summary: What has Spada gotten himself into...
A safer district. That's all Chey needed right then and there. Somewhere devoid of animals and beasts and overly-large people and overly-large buildings and...not...anywhere nearby, apparently.
The Metropolis District wasn't any better at all! It was worse! The buildings were taller and the people more numerous and the sounds were all but blinding in waves. He was lied too, it was awful!
Chey wanted nothing more than to flee and find someplace quiet and warm and safe, but fleeing was nigh impossible with such a light atmosphere. Booking it translated to flying and floating with arms flapping uselessly against momentum, very much at the mercy of whatever light breeze came to change his course. He went about much of the journey through the district in a blind panic, clutching corners and streetlights in a mad effort to change course or find somewhere to hide. It was some twisted stroke of fate that inevitably led him back to a familiar block with a familiar look and familiar shadows in which to stand in. Chey's wits recovered enough to recall it well - it was the first place, where all the other people were surrounded. Where Sakra and Sakra and other strangers stooped over to peer at him like the strange sight he was.
This was the place that the Spada-person said to go, yes? And then from there...northeast.
But...What way was northeast? Was it the same as it was back home? The sun moved so fast on this planet that it seemed impossible to tell! What about axial shift? He learned about that on the caravan. What if there was none here? What if what if what if what if what if...
Chey's growing anxiety was briefly interrupted by the sight of the sign. The first time he had been there, so many others were grouped around it that there was really no way for him to see it himself, but now...well, save for the occasional passer-by, it was deserted! Perhaps it could give him the information he needed. Perhaps not however. Hadn't everyone he had written to been completely unable to understand?
But on the other hand...
He carefully bounce-stepped up the handful of steps, jumping up and clutching a bit of brick to keep in place. He tilted his head, more confused than ever. He...could read this. It was plain Klovodokaravi, right there! Nobody else could read that?
Things were not making much sense, and it was spelled all out in a language he could actually understand. He hovered there, trying to lean away enough to read more of the sign from where he was. None of it said anything about a spaceport...