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It was already late in the evening but the merchant seemed unfazed by the passing of time. He sat, poised and elegant, watching the world around him. He didn’t seem bored, even as he leaned forward and laced his fingers atop the table; below it, he kept his toe tapping to some silent tune in his head. He was tall, by human standards, though while sitting down he didn’t seem particularly threatening. If you didn’t look at his face.
He had graceful features--sharp and refined. His chin and nose tapered to a point, giving him an air of sophistication, but that, combined with his slitted eyes and pointed teeth, there was something undeniably predatory about him. He watched with a hungry gaze and a mischievous, nearly sinister smile. His ears were pointed and were prominent despite being tucked behind his vibrant, multi-colored hair. The most intrusive feature that indicated there was something not human about him were the curling horns protruding from his temples and the oil-slick black scales that brushed his cheeks and forehead. He was well dressed, in a fashion obviously otherworldly, and seemed to enjoy dressing himself up in glistening gemstones.
His table was somehow both simple and overwhelming; it was draped in a dark purple tablecloth, with extravagant embroidery in different designs. Scattered neatly atop the table was an array of items that seemed to carry some magical weight to them.
He did not seem intimidated in the slightest and, upon noticing that the barrier surrounding him rippled when his visitor entered, he smiled.
He did not rise to meet them nor adjust his position in the slightest. He followed them with his fierce eyes and greeted, in a silky voice, “Welcome.”
He had graceful features--sharp and refined. His chin and nose tapered to a point, giving him an air of sophistication, but that, combined with his slitted eyes and pointed teeth, there was something undeniably predatory about him. He watched with a hungry gaze and a mischievous, nearly sinister smile. His ears were pointed and were prominent despite being tucked behind his vibrant, multi-colored hair. The most intrusive feature that indicated there was something not human about him were the curling horns protruding from his temples and the oil-slick black scales that brushed his cheeks and forehead. He was well dressed, in a fashion obviously otherworldly, and seemed to enjoy dressing himself up in glistening gemstones.
His table was somehow both simple and overwhelming; it was draped in a dark purple tablecloth, with extravagant embroidery in different designs. Scattered neatly atop the table was an array of items that seemed to carry some magical weight to them.
He did not seem intimidated in the slightest and, upon noticing that the barrier surrounding him rippled when his visitor entered, he smiled.
He did not rise to meet them nor adjust his position in the slightest. He followed them with his fierce eyes and greeted, in a silky voice, “Welcome.”
He'd never really been big on summer. It was a little too hot during the day, and everyone was a little too noisy about their activities, and he would swear there were more idiots about in general because of the 'nice' weather. Rakovanite preferred the winter, when he could don more attire if he was cold, sleep in just a little later while it was darker longer, and everyone stayed inside because they were unwilling to face the elements. Exactly how he liked it.
But he was trying to warm up to summer because Basyl liked all the standard heat-induced activities. Trips to the beach, camping in the valley, summer festivals and fairs. His boyfriend had volunteered (because of course he had) to take a first aid shift at the fair, just a few hours. From five to eight. PM. Nataniel was ludicrously disgusted that he was expected to be out at such a grievous hour (which was, in fact, inaccurate, as Basyl didn't expect anything from him). But how could they spend their limited time off of work together if they weren't actually together. He felt obligated to accompany the other man, even though it was hot, and still sunny, and he would much rather be at home.
He was passively aware that no one really enjoyed being around people who were in fouls tempers, and Nataniel's typically disaffected demeanor kept the worst of how unimpressed by the situation he was from his face.
But Nataniel had still grumbled through most of the three hours, and still dutifully fetched Basyl whatever gross fair food he wanted. Lemon shake-ups and slushies that came in refillable cups that had been adorned with glittering fuchsia star charms, fried ice cream and funnel cake, fried green beans, and something called a "pork shot" which Nataniel could hardly even conceive of someone putting in their body, let alone actually watch someone he loved do just that. Nataniel didn't think he'd ever seen Basyl consume so much.
By the time Basyl's mini shift was over, Nataniel had decided that they should go for a jog because even though he had personally partaken in none of that, he had vicariously consumed a truly egregious amount of calories, and he had Concerns for Basyl's well-being. It was late, though, and he didn't want to make a whole event of it. Something quick, with a means to get them home in a blink.
They moved away from the fairgrounds, powered up, and-
It felt as if something immediately washed over his senses. For a moment, he was geared into the thought that it was something bad, but... No, not quite that. "Do you feel that?" He asked in a low murmur, head canting slightly in Narcissus' direction. Maybe it had been there all along, something not unfamiliar, but not perfectly identifiable: a dull thrum of some sort of energy. Not Order, not Chaos. Just something else that he had felt before. He was pretty sure Narcissus had felt it before too.
