Quote:
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.”
Alright, so on a certain friend’s ‘advice,’ he’d decided to make this happen.
Was it probably more dangerous for him than it was for most others? Yeeeeah, to some extent. Feldspar didn’t have quite the range of mobility a lot of people had, which wouldn’t be a terrible issue if he was just a little better as a Negaverse agent. But he wasn’t. He had to work with what he had. And what he had was pretty much exclusively what little physical resistance and resilience that a weak bond to Chaos offered. And that had been enough to get him through a handful of s**t already, so why wouldn’t it be enough to get through this?
Bah, he figured. It’d be fine. Feldspar had never been especially careful before, and there was no reason to start fearing over his personal wellbeing now. So after hearing a vague mention of trees and pods from Diesel- and then something else from Rakovanite about someone being after said pods- Feldspar figured he didn’t have much to lose in checking it out.
Besides, like, his life, maybe. But that was hardly important.
The giant cicadas swarming the tree were honestly only about as bad as he’d pictured, after hearing Diesel’s complaints about them. They were loud, fast, vaguely armored, swarming by the dozens, and capable of spitting acid. And Not Friendly At All. So, alright, he knew what he was getting into- but he also knew what he wanted and knew better than to hang around once he’d gotten it.
Fending off the bugs only made him a little worse for wear. He had his cane for whacking, and it mostly seemed like so long as he wasn’t a docile target, the alien insects gave him enough of a wide berth that he could actually get to the tree, smack down a couple of pods (because he wasn’t going to hang around and pick out the best- this merchant dude would just have to accept that here were options available), and get out with only a couple of vaguely sizzling burns to the sleeve of his uniform and his exposed hands. Yeeeeah- that was probably worth the experience of meeting some dragon-alien-guy, right?
Sure. And he’d have something to complain about later, which was nice in its own way.
It took Feldspar a while to find where the Merchant had set up shop. It wasn’t like he made a habit of coming this far out of the city, especially on foot. But for this, this once-a-year chance, he’d force himself forward. And someone else could come pick him up, after. No big deal.
He read the sign at the bubble’s entrance, denoting that these weird bug pods were something someone was after, and then Feldspar progressed forward through the barrier, where he was able to lay eyes on The Man everyone seemed to have something to say about.
To be fair, he didn’t look that alien. No extra limbs or eyes. He wasn’t green or anything. Feldspar would classify it as… Human+. Like the Deluxe model of someone born on Earth, plus, like, the horns and shiny hair and slitted eyes. Vaguely predatory. Quite attractive, which he expected was the center of all the hype about him. Space artifacts? Sure, those were nice. But pretty dragon man clearly elicited other desires in people.
And then he spoke. ’Welcome.’
Ah, right- He would speak English, no matter how bizarre that seemed. “Uh, ‘Sup?” Feldspar greeted back, as he stepped up closer to the table. “I heard word of some Spaceman looking for these pods we’ve got around this weird tree that’s been growing in town for a while. Is that you?”
The Space Cauldron
