[Y] Multitasking in the Rain(& the Flaws Therin) (Malta&Ze)

[DraconicFeline]

Malta glanced back at the cottage briefly, wondering if she should be doing what she was doing. Yisette had asked her to get more ale, girl, and Yisette could be very angry if Malta delayed or dallied, especially when drunk. Especially with drink. However, when she'd left, Yisette had been indisposed. Out cold, or on her way there. Surely, she wouldn't notice if Malta took a little longer to bring her her ale? Or to take a bird out from it's cage in the store?

Malta slipped into the store and fumbled with a cage lock as it's occupant - a brightly colored Talean bird - rustled it's drooping feathers and turned watery eyes to her. "Come on..." she coaxed to it, offering a hand protected by a bird glove that didn't quite fit but would do it's job. "You've been cooped up in here for so long... do you want to go out? Of course you do." It stepped tentatively onto her hand, and she carefully clipped a leash to it's talon, bribing it with seeds to keep it still. "Yes, yes..." she cooed, stroking it's head, "You need to see the sky... you weren't meant to be in here all the time."

She peeked out of the door, and then up at the sky. Cloudy. With a wet, rain-smell in the air. "... it won't be sunny, but hopefully that will be enough." She glanced towards the cottage again before stepping out. The bird flapped it's wings in the air and peered around it, visibly enlivened. "Mmhmm! There you go!" she giggled, delighted and relieved, "Lets go on a walk." To get the ale of course.

---

Detraeus snarled and huffed in his pen, pacing as far as his tether would allow as he glowered up at the sky and sneezed out the too-wet air that stung his nostrils. Rain - he could feel it. In the air, in the way his head ached, in the way his plated skin itched... rain. He hated rain. He hated thunder and lightning even more, though normally the lightning wasn't such an issue - he hid his head, and thus rarely saw it. But the thunder... it shook the very ground. He could not escape it, or the fear that followed it.

But the little Mouse could. She sat near him and talked to him and her voice gave him something to listen to other than the thunder and the rain. It was a nice voice, soft but clear... not that he ever let her know. Not that he ever let the earthling mice see his moments of weakeness.

He paced again, stopping when he caught a glimpse of the little Mouse walking out of the beast-place with a bright colored featherthing on her arm. Where was she going? He needed her to be here, so that when the sky opened up above him, he would have shelter and distraction. He bit back an insistent, questioning sound - he could not let her know how much he needed her to stay...  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Wind gusted over the shore like a whisper from the great sea, dragging with it salt and a restless energy that got under the skin. Zekiel stood at the threshold of the building wherein he, Sister Illera, and the others of their travel party from the Sanctum had taken up temporary rest for the night. In the morning after arriving the previous night, they had visited the local house of worship, and Sister Illera had given a visiting sermon. Then, after the morning’s breakfast, they had made rounds through the village, to the poorest sectors, the slanting shack of a building which was a temporary ‘orphanage’ before children could be relocated to Pajore’s better-equipped facilities, and the town hall.

Thus far, Zekiel’s duties had comprised primarily of watching, listening, and carrying things where needed, passing out food and sanitary goods to those in need when they were making those rounds, and absorbing information when Sister Illera engaged with other adults of repute.

It was a small, poor town with dusty streets that lacked gravel which would undoubtedly muddy up and slicken to a brown smear under any storm. They suffered floods when the rainy seasons rolled through, and it was obvious to see looking out, many of the building showing water lines and others built up from the ground level in an effort to keep them safe from the surge. Zekiel had been instructed not to stray far. He didn’t intend to stray far.

After a youngling scurried past, barefoot and so covered in dirt that their original skin tone was impossible to discern, Ze stepped forward—away from the safe residence and into the street. He walked slowly, but as he did, his eyes and mind wandered at a much more rapid rate, drinking in the details. He had never been so far from the Sanctum before, aside from his early years in the village of his birth. This place, in its poverty and destitution, reminded him of those days.

But it smelled less of fish.

He meant to keep track. Having been told to do so, told to be cautious, to stay near, he had meant to oblige, and yet, caution did not run innate in his blood, and before he even realized he was doing so, his wandering feet had taken him far from familiar places. Overhead, the sky roiled. Deep gray clouds darkened, and the breeze gusting in over the village, between the alleys, and down the streets, had cooled with the approach of rain. It did nothing to dampen the buzz of curiosity under his skin. If anything, it stirred it further, and thus, it took until the first low boom and roll of thunder clapped overhead before Zekiel blinked and glanced skyward, recognizing the true distance of his wandering.

Then came the first splatter of rain.  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

The bird fluttered at the end of it's leash, straining at it towares the grey freedom of the sky, before giving up and returning to Malta's arm. "That's it." she said, softly, "Exercise your wings. I can't let you go..." and nor did she want to - freeing the bird would make it go away and leave her alone (more or less). Moreover, would make Yisette very upset. Malta... did not want that.

The sky rumbled, and Malta looked up on it just as rain began to splash down. She blinked a raindrop from her eyelashes and wiped one from her cheek with her free hand. "I thought we had a little more time..." she said to the bird, who shook the water out of it's feathers and looked up at the sky with undisguised and wary longing. Storm or not, it wanted to be free... "Sorry...!" she said, hastening in her walk, "We have to get the ale." she explained to the bird, "And maybe it won't be raining too hard when we go back..." But... probably not. "But even so, it's okay..." she held up a grimy, frayed piece of cloth. "I have a cover."

She ducked into an alleyway shortcut and trotted towards the brewer, coming out into the street. The bird shrieked a warning, but that didn't prevent her from crashing headlong into someone walking along the street...  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

DraconicFeline

Zekiel didn’t mind rain. Quite the opposite, it was a welcome natural process, healthy for the earth, the trees, the beasts, and the people alike. It did, however, draw him out of his meandering thoughts enough to remind him — as he looked about — that he was, indeed, very far now from anything resembling ‘home’ or familiar territory.

He had paused there in the street, considering options in his hesitance. Perhaps if he simply asked his way? But that would require finding someone to—

Divine deliverance, in this case, occurred far quicker and more violently than Zekiel anticipated. Before his prayer had even been fully mentally articulated, the ‘answer’ collided bodily into him in conjunction with a shrieking calamity of feathers, hair, and no insignificant amount of raw momentum, sufficient to knock Ze himself — not an especially large boy to begin with — to his rear on the street.

In the aftermath, he blinked, staring bewilderedly and shaking his head as he adjusted his bearings, small stray feathers trickling down like downy snowflakes together with the building drizzle of rain. A girl. His age? Flustered. Portly. He beamed.

“Good evening.” He held out a hand. “I’m Zekiel.”  

[DraconicFeline]

Malta's momentum drove her to the pavement as well, and drove the bird to shrieking and flapping. "Shh! Shh!!!" she pawed at the bird desperately, trying to calm it as feathers flew everywhere. A talon scratched her face and tore the low-quality cloth of her dress as the bird struggled to gain it's bearings, it's freedom, anything. Malta flinched away, but managed to grab the bird, holding it still long enough to cover it's eyes and settle it. She held her arm still until it calmed, and almost breathed a sigh of relief... until the renewed, raining calm reminded her that she had, in fact, run into someone. An actual someone. Oh no! she turned to them, glowing eyes wide and horrified at her clumsiness. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she began. It was a boy, her age, handsome and well-dressed. Someone, indeed, more important than little old her. And she'd run into them. And gotten mud and feathers (both snowy down and colorful guard feathers) all over their clothes...

So why were they smiling? Somehow, that was more frightening than if they'd yelled at her. She stared at the hand as if it might bite her, somehow (and, somehow, as if it would be more likely to bite her than the bird now preening itself disgruntledly on her shoulder.) "I'm really so sorry, sir! I... I'll..." But she was at a loss to how to make things better. Nothing on her was as clean as even the dirtiest of his clothing, and she was on the ground too so she couldn't help him up. "I'm sorry...!"

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Zekiel blinked in rapid succession, his startlement making his lashes like open-shut shutters against the light of his eyes before he brought her into steady focus. Evidently, she was still upset, and he tipped his head, trying to understand why—the bird, perhaps? It started off agitated, shrieking its upset, but she seemed to know how to calm it herself and did so. It had lost feathers in the collision, though, and they were still grounded, so—

Zekiel hastened to stand, gathering a number of the scattered down-and-otherwise as he did—from the ground, from his clothes, from her clothes—and when he was upright, he stretched out a palm again, offering her a hand up, though this time with slightly more uncertainty, since she’d seemed intimidated by his handshake offer last time. Remembering this, he withdrew the hand after a half moment.

“My hand is clean, I promise,” he said, “but I understand if you do not want to touch it. Some people do not like that.” A pause, as he thought on the situation. “And perhaps it isn’t as clean as I thought, now that I’ve been on the ground and touched new things since I last washed it.” He rubbed it on the side of his tunic, which—was not much cleaner, now that he looked at it, wet and stained with gravel and mud. It would need washing. He went Malta a renewed smile. “But I’ll wash it again soon, and these clothes, as I am sure Sister Illera will think they require it. The earth does have a wonderful character all of its own, but I think most think that character belongs on the ground beneath us, not in our tunics.”

He paused again, and flushed, abashed that he’d nearly forgotten.

“And these are yours,” he said, thrusting out the grip full of feathers like a fluffy, muddied and muddled bouquet of roses falling apart under the rain. “If you would like them back…” His gaze slipped sidelong to her companion. “It is a very beautiful bird.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

His actions eluded her and only served to make her fear more pronounced. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? Malta flinched away as he started to pick up the feathers from her clothes, confused. His renewedly outstretched hand was even more intimidating now, in light of his strange actions, and she waited to see what he would do next - and whether she should risk tripping again to flee from this stranger before he could get it in his head to do something with his hand or...

"Ah, no! No no no!" she protested, horrified at how he had misunderstood her gesture, and what the well-dressed-and-handsome-person-named-Zekiel must think of her for Oh gods refusing his hand for being dirty. In her filthy condition. And he didn't even know about her curse or anything, which would have made it worse! She had to dispel that misconception immediately! "It's not that at all, it's just... Uh-um..." As she struggled to find the right way to explain it to him, she realized that telling him that he was terrifying, a stranger, and that she was many rungs beneath him on the great chain of things might not be the best way to get her point across.

Tentatively, she put her hand in his and let him help her up. "I'm sorry... your hand is fine! S-..." she stopped herself from saying sorry again, her cheek stinging with phantom pain-memory from the last time Yisette had objected to her frequent apologies. She bit back another stray sorry, her face heating.
He had said several other things, too, she realized. Things she had mostly missed in her panicked quandry. It had been something about dirt and earth and cleaning that had, she thought, sounded very nice. Probably because he had a very nice voice... Gah! She thought, taking her hand from his abruptly to nervously pet the bird (who deigned not to peck her.) Such thoughts made her more nervous.

"I..." she stared at the feathers, confused anew. "Thank you... I mean... You can keep them! They're... they're yours?" Why was he giving her feathers? What was even happening? Malta didn't understand.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Zekiel stared, hanging still with bewilderment as the girl before him went through a great slew of emotions. Most, unfortunately, distressed or unpleasant looking. He was about to pull his hand away again, since she did seem consistently unnerved by it—when instead, her fingers clasped into his. He felt tickle of warmth fill him, and in an instant, he was beaming again, expression warm with renewed relief and delight.

“Please don’t be sorry. Though the sorriness puts wondrous color on your cheeks it seems to distress you a great deal more than it has any right. I’m quite pleased to meet you…” A pause. “Though, if meeting me distresses you and you’re well enough—”

Tip, tip, tip—tttssshhhhhhh… The initially gentle, tittering patters of new rain built up like a slow drumroll and unfurled over the messy cobblestone and mud of the streets, approaching like a gray sheet and pouring down on them the next moment. Zekiel blinked, dislodging raindrops from his lashes and glancing upward as it wetted his hair, then back to his company with a now lopsided, sheepish smile—as though the rain were his fault.

“If meeting me distresses you,” he said louder, to be heard over the more significant downpour, “I may go my own way despite the rain. Or would it please you more to have company? I don’t especially know where I am and I do like your company, are you from about here? Will your bird be well in the rain?”

Only far, far belatedly after posing all of his questions did it dawn on him that he was still holding out the assortment of feathers, and—his, she had said he could keep them! It occurred to him that he hadn’t the faintest idea what he would do with them, but that seemed to matter little in the grander scheme of things, and he sent her a bright smile of appreciation.

“Oh, and thank you! They are wondrous and…” Wet? Earth-coated? “…colorful! I will keep them always.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

"Glad you like them?" Oh gods, the feathers were so dirty, but if he was okay with taking them, she was okay with giving them... she was so confused. She was just glad that part of the exchange was over so she could regroup...

Pat... pat... pat pat patter PAPPAPAPAPPAPAisssssssshhhhhhhhhh -

Oh no, the rain! It was getting more intense, now - she could feel the chill of it soaking into her clothes. Malta quickly arched her not particularly archable body over the bird as she scrambled to find a piece of cloth to put over it, something to shield it from the worst of the rain. Fortunately, she did have something she could use - she'd been expecting the rain, and she'd been ready. The bird huddled unhappily as the view of the sky was hidden and it's feathers became cold from the rain. "He... he'll be fine!" she said, smiling briefly as she tucked the bird-used arm to her chest for whatever warmth the creature would find there. If the stranger was worried about birds, and about her, and so nice...

"... Are you lost?" she asked, her eyes widening as it occurred to her, suddenly, through the (really lovely sounding) maze of his words, that he might be. And if he was...  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Rain prickled his skin, his hair, his clothes, trickling down where it met with unguarded flesh and inciting a physical shiver that made his hairs stand to attention. His gaze wandered up to the open sky watching the long, long path down and the sight it made: first an indistinct gray blur, and then many, many showering tiny droplets as they came close enough to be discernible individually by the naked eye.

“Have you ever thought,” he said, “how wondrous it is that every drop we feel has come so far before reaching us, held high, high in the sky by the gods before making it all the great way through the open air and of all the places each might have landed, these are coming to us?”

Only after the winding, musing interjection did he seem to focus again, blinking as he realized she’d actually asked questions of him, and immediately, he beamed.

“Yes!” He nodded happily. “I am lost. I should think. Though I do not know when I became so, I am now. Are you also lost? Or is it only me, I’ve forgotten. Did you tell me your name? Surely someone has given you one to keep. You’re too beautiful not to have a name.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

Malta peered up from under her own scanty, frayed cloth covering at the sky. "No, I've never thought about that...?" she said, almost a question. Was it bad that she hadn't? Now that she was, it was a very lovely thought - these raindrops, though cold, had come from the gods to splash upon her. "It's really nice, though. Thank you for telling me..." She wondered when he would get to her question.

When he did, she wasn't ready. "E-eep?!" she yelped, "I, no, I..." I'm not beautiful, I'm not lost, you don't need to know my name, I'm not worthy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... "I'm... I'm Malta." she managed, through rain-splattered thoroughly-flushed cheeks. "If your lost..." He just said he was lost! "I can help you?" she said uncertainly, "I... I mean, I know my way around... I can help you get... not lost."  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

“You’re very welcome,” Ze said. “I had not thought about it until this moment either.” A pause. “Or, if I have, I do not recall when. I do think it is a pleasant one.”

Zekiel blinked as his company squeaked. Apparently—startled? Frightened? Had something touched her? It did not appear so, and after his initial surprise, his gaze wandered down of its own accord, landing and lingering on the growing heat and color in her cheeks. Then came her name, and immediately his eyes lifted again to hers.

“Oh, Malta,” he repeated. “Mmmm…alalalal…” He tipped his head. “Ta. It’s a lovely name,” he said. “I like it very much. Do you have any others? Some have others, or many, or…” He trailed off, distracted by the offer in the latter part of her words. “Oh, yes! I would like that. I do not mind being lost. Sometimes it’s even wondrous—I have met you because I am lost. But, I think if I am lost for much longer, it will worry Sister Illera and the rest of those I came with. Do you live here?”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

"Yes, Maaal-TA..." she said, nodding. The way he said her name, it was like he was savoring something delicous. She knew she was named for something sweet, so maybe it actually was. In all, it didn't taste that bad in her mouth she supposed, and it was hers. "That is my name... I don't have others... I'm... sorry?" What others? Like, a family name? Her family didn't have a family name, and even if they did, they had abandoned her and so she wouldn't be able to carry it anyway.

"W-well, um..." She thought he might have accepted her offer. "It... it's true, you find the best things when you're lost, but eventually you want to be, um... found." she frowned. Sister? Like a priestess? No, of course not. What would the chosen of the gods be doing here?

"I live here. Yes..." Well, hereish. Technically, Yisette and her barn were on the outer parts of the town, where the ground was firmer for a wider swath than anywhere else, but still - Malta spent a significant chunk of time running errands in the town, and she was good at finding her way around, barring the occasional screwup. "So... if you tell me where your trying to go, I can help you get there." She petted the bird nervously, though she managed a smile at Zekiel. "If, um, you're ready to not be lost, that is..."  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

“Oh, you needn’t be sorry!” he said. “Or, you needn’t be sorry to me. Unless you are sorry that you do not have another name because you are sorry to not have one because it makes you feel sorry to be without, in which case…I could give you another name to keep? Malta the…” A splatter of rain hit his nose, earning a blink, and then a smile, “…little raindrop.”

After, he tipped his head. “Yes, I suppose it is often best to be found eventually so that you might share what you’ve seen with those in the places you were once before.”

Where was he trying to go, though?

“I am not certain I had a destination in mind before. I thought I might wander to see the village, but now that enough time as passed, to be unlost I should…” He glanced down the street. “I do not remember the name of the place. It was an inn where we are spending the night before tending to the morning’s duties.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

... Little Raindrop. Somehow, that had ended up with a new name, and somehow, that meant something.

Malta bowed her head shyly, as if she had to hide the small smile that warmed her face. She stroked the bird to hide some of her shyness, though she could tell that the beast had nearly enough of that. "I... I like that." He really did seem nice, and she was... happy? Nice people - who didn't just act out of pity - were few and far between here.

Sinc ehe had brought it up, she felt she needed to bring up the same thing in turn to close the circle? "Do you have another name, then? Zekiel?" It was, she felt, a reasonable question.

"... I think I know where you mean." There was one inn - two, technically, but someone as beautiful, well dressed, and nice as himself wouldn't be in the other one. Especially not with others. Also, it wasn't actually an inn. It was... something else... though it did put people up when needed. No, definitely the other one. "I'll take you back there. I know the way - it's..." not too far. she'd been about to say. The rain, though, would complicate things, as would her errand. "This way." she said, adjusting the cover on the bird and moving onto the street.