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It's market day at the Agora in Athenia! Or, at least it would be if half the stalls weren't missing... Whilst the commonfolk are too outside the spheres of trade to realise it to be the cause, tax and levy arrangements have not been adjusted for future imports at the Athenian docks. As such, traders have sailed elsewhere to offer and exchange their goods. Whilst some in the Senate blame the absence of their Queen for such oversights, others are looking with a baleful eye at Lord Elias who claims to have everything in the palace under control. Meanwhile the people of Athenia are staring at the food available and a far larger ratio of mouths to consume it... Desperate times...
JD
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JD
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It's market day at the Agora in Athenia! Or, at least it would be if half the stalls weren't missing... Whilst the commonfolk are too outside the spheres of trade to realise it to be the cause, tax and levy arrangements have not been adjusted for future imports at the Athenian docks. As such, traders have sailed elsewhere to offer and exchange their goods. Whilst some in the Senate blame the absence of their Queen for such oversights, others are looking with a baleful eye at Lord Elias who claims to have everything in the palace under control. Meanwhile the people of Athenia are staring at the food available and a far larger ratio of mouths to consume it... Desperate times...
Hungry Mouths Event - Athenia
It's market day at the Agora in Athenia! Or, at least it would be if half the stalls weren't missing... Whilst the commonfolk are too outside the spheres of trade to realise it to be the cause, tax and levy arrangements have not been adjusted for future imports at the Athenian docks. As such, traders have sailed elsewhere to offer and exchange their goods. Whilst some in the Senate blame the absence of their Queen for such oversights, others are looking with a baleful eye at Lord Elias who claims to have everything in the palace under control. Meanwhile the people of Athenia are staring at the food available and a far larger ratio of mouths to consume it... Desperate times...
Market day! How wonderful! So many people to sing to, to dance to! To spread her joy around! Koko’s heart was beating at a mile a minute, even though his stomach felt like it was twisting. There were so many positives and negatives to this.. First, everyone here wanted food, they wanted to get their rations and fill their stomachs. This meant that if he bothered the wrong person, he could expect a very painful punch to the face. And she didn’t think that a bruised up face would be quite appealing to others while she sang.
Secondly, she was starving too! The sun up above was hot and his stomach was growling so much but he persisted anyway. He had his phorminx in hand, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, his cheeks and disappearing into his skin as it hit his chest. Imagine if he had passed out in front of all of these people...his reputation would he ruined. And if not ruined, people would look forward to seeing him doing it again. She could see it now! Many citizens gathering around in amusement the market just to watch him faint after overworking himself in the heat. He’d never get noticed by his father If that happened!
That motivated him though.. His father. This would be a great opportunity to get attention, to perhaps inspire some kids or even receive an applause for his singing! Koko didn’t want to go too overboard though. He didn’t want to dance too strong nor sing too loud. Everyone had their opinion but it would be safe to keep his tone down so that he wouldn’t risk a voice crack. After all, with a lack of water, his throat wasn’t quite...prepared. He would have to find ways to bring attention to himself while not looking like a fool in the process.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Market day! How wonderful! So many people to sing to, to dance to! To spread her joy around! Koko’s heart was beating at a mile a minute, even though his stomach felt like it was twisting. There were so many positives and negatives to this.. First, everyone here wanted food, they wanted to get their rations and fill their stomachs. This meant that if he bothered the wrong person, he could expect a very painful punch to the face. And she didn’t think that a bruised up face would be quite appealing to others while she sang.
Secondly, she was starving too! The sun up above was hot and his stomach was growling so much but he persisted anyway. He had his phorminx in hand, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, his cheeks and disappearing into his skin as it hit his chest. Imagine if he had passed out in front of all of these people...his reputation would he ruined. And if not ruined, people would look forward to seeing him doing it again. She could see it now! Many citizens gathering around in amusement the market just to watch him faint after overworking himself in the heat. He’d never get noticed by his father If that happened!
That motivated him though.. His father. This would be a great opportunity to get attention, to perhaps inspire some kids or even receive an applause for his singing! Koko didn’t want to go too overboard though. He didn’t want to dance too strong nor sing too loud. Everyone had their opinion but it would be safe to keep his tone down so that he wouldn’t risk a voice crack. After all, with a lack of water, his throat wasn’t quite...prepared. He would have to find ways to bring attention to himself while not looking like a fool in the process.
Market day! How wonderful! So many people to sing to, to dance to! To spread her joy around! Koko’s heart was beating at a mile a minute, even though his stomach felt like it was twisting. There were so many positives and negatives to this.. First, everyone here wanted food, they wanted to get their rations and fill their stomachs. This meant that if he bothered the wrong person, he could expect a very painful punch to the face. And she didn’t think that a bruised up face would be quite appealing to others while she sang.
Secondly, she was starving too! The sun up above was hot and his stomach was growling so much but he persisted anyway. He had his phorminx in hand, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, his cheeks and disappearing into his skin as it hit his chest. Imagine if he had passed out in front of all of these people...his reputation would he ruined. And if not ruined, people would look forward to seeing him doing it again. She could see it now! Many citizens gathering around in amusement the market just to watch him faint after overworking himself in the heat. He’d never get noticed by his father If that happened!
That motivated him though.. His father. This would be a great opportunity to get attention, to perhaps inspire some kids or even receive an applause for his singing! Koko didn’t want to go too overboard though. He didn’t want to dance too strong nor sing too loud. Everyone had their opinion but it would be safe to keep his tone down so that he wouldn’t risk a voice crack. After all, with a lack of water, his throat wasn’t quite...prepared. He would have to find ways to bring attention to himself while not looking like a fool in the process.
For fuck's sake. Apparently this summer was going to suck on multiple levels. Lesley had gone hungry before, and he would simply tighten his belt and do it again - though for a gladiator in fighting trim, merely 'hungry' still implied more food than 'full' had as a scrawny kid. Even so, he was more concerned with buying for his mother than himself - he could depend on at least lunch from the common pot at the gladiator barracks. And why on earth was local fish so expensive today? That couldn't possibly be in short supply. "What the fuck? For this? You damned shitcunt, there's no way..."
Okay, so maybe the heat was still making him short-tempered, though luckily nothing was setting him off the way it had a couple of weeks ago. The climbing prices weren't yet an insurmountable problem for him, but for once he was distinctly not liking the idea of stepping into the arena to try to win extra cash - mostly that stubborn streak that hated being forced into anything, but a good portion of his reluctance was due to the weather. He was hardly twenty any more, and pit him against one of the African gladiators good enough to simply keep their range and drag it out, and he would lose. Still better than starving to death out here, but he'd much rather go down because someone was honestly better than him - though, he supposed, you could call it the gods stepping in to decide the matter. Fair enough.
It didn't occur to him that most people didn't distract themselves from stress by contemplating their own inevitable and brutal deaths, just moved on to arguing with the next merchant.
At least they were doing all right in terms of supplies for the shop, but listening to the gossip, Lesley suspected that he needed to buy anything imported now, dyestuffs and silk and maybe even wool was likely to become entirely unobtainable in very short order. He considered how much coin he had left, and wandered off in another direction. He managed a couple more purchases, gave up on a third, and at the next stall when someone else butted in and offered to pay the price he'd just refused - after he'd haggled the merchant down by practically a third, and they'd been just about to come to an agreement - for the last of the man's stock, the gladiator vented an entire string of profanity and decided that it would probably be better to let his mother prioritize what they needed and how much they could afford to pay, anyway. Besides, his earlier purchases would last longer the sooner he got it into the cool shade of their pantry.
He was just turning his feet back towards home, when a few quiet notes caught his attention; he recognized the musician as one he'd tossed a coin or two to before. Just the plucked strings on the phorminx, at the moment, no sweet words accompanying it. Lesley moved closer, music always improved his mood at least a bit - if you considered quiet and surly better than loud and pissy, at least. He frowned, his features settling firmly into grouch mode as he noticed the rhapsodist's pallor. Experience made him particularly good at noticing how exhausted or heat-addled someone was - usually so he could take advantage of it, but that was neither here nor there - and he walked up to the musician as the tune ended, shifting his basket with an irritated huff. "Have you had anything to eat today? You're about to fall over. Or anything to drink at least?" He strongly suspected not, and that was just dumb, and couldn't be blamed on poverty. The well-water available for free to the lower-class residents was relatively heavy with minerals, and anyone with a tongue to taste it would prefer wine, but it served well enough to wet one's throat, or stave off heat-sickness. "Here. Honestly." He reached into his basket and pulled out an apricot, slightly bruised because he'd refused to pay what had been asked for the more perfect fruit when it was going to be eaten within a day or two, and held it out.
He couldn't really afford to give it away, any more than the coin he'd just been thinking he couldn't afford to spare, and why he even cared about some street brat who's name he didn't even know... he recognized that thought as being a remnant of his time in the Marikas household, and ignored it. He cared because he'd once been there, dependent on the charity of passers-by and only able to eat once the day's gleanings were counted and someone could be found willing to sell the last scraps of their day's wares for cheap. He didn't care a lot, because Lesley was simply not a man who got upset at other people's suffering, but he apparently cared one apricot-worth, at least.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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For fuck's sake. Apparently this summer was going to suck on multiple levels. Lesley had gone hungry before, and he would simply tighten his belt and do it again - though for a gladiator in fighting trim, merely 'hungry' still implied more food than 'full' had as a scrawny kid. Even so, he was more concerned with buying for his mother than himself - he could depend on at least lunch from the common pot at the gladiator barracks. And why on earth was local fish so expensive today? That couldn't possibly be in short supply. "What the fuck? For this? You damned shitcunt, there's no way..."
Okay, so maybe the heat was still making him short-tempered, though luckily nothing was setting him off the way it had a couple of weeks ago. The climbing prices weren't yet an insurmountable problem for him, but for once he was distinctly not liking the idea of stepping into the arena to try to win extra cash - mostly that stubborn streak that hated being forced into anything, but a good portion of his reluctance was due to the weather. He was hardly twenty any more, and pit him against one of the African gladiators good enough to simply keep their range and drag it out, and he would lose. Still better than starving to death out here, but he'd much rather go down because someone was honestly better than him - though, he supposed, you could call it the gods stepping in to decide the matter. Fair enough.
It didn't occur to him that most people didn't distract themselves from stress by contemplating their own inevitable and brutal deaths, just moved on to arguing with the next merchant.
At least they were doing all right in terms of supplies for the shop, but listening to the gossip, Lesley suspected that he needed to buy anything imported now, dyestuffs and silk and maybe even wool was likely to become entirely unobtainable in very short order. He considered how much coin he had left, and wandered off in another direction. He managed a couple more purchases, gave up on a third, and at the next stall when someone else butted in and offered to pay the price he'd just refused - after he'd haggled the merchant down by practically a third, and they'd been just about to come to an agreement - for the last of the man's stock, the gladiator vented an entire string of profanity and decided that it would probably be better to let his mother prioritize what they needed and how much they could afford to pay, anyway. Besides, his earlier purchases would last longer the sooner he got it into the cool shade of their pantry.
He was just turning his feet back towards home, when a few quiet notes caught his attention; he recognized the musician as one he'd tossed a coin or two to before. Just the plucked strings on the phorminx, at the moment, no sweet words accompanying it. Lesley moved closer, music always improved his mood at least a bit - if you considered quiet and surly better than loud and pissy, at least. He frowned, his features settling firmly into grouch mode as he noticed the rhapsodist's pallor. Experience made him particularly good at noticing how exhausted or heat-addled someone was - usually so he could take advantage of it, but that was neither here nor there - and he walked up to the musician as the tune ended, shifting his basket with an irritated huff. "Have you had anything to eat today? You're about to fall over. Or anything to drink at least?" He strongly suspected not, and that was just dumb, and couldn't be blamed on poverty. The well-water available for free to the lower-class residents was relatively heavy with minerals, and anyone with a tongue to taste it would prefer wine, but it served well enough to wet one's throat, or stave off heat-sickness. "Here. Honestly." He reached into his basket and pulled out an apricot, slightly bruised because he'd refused to pay what had been asked for the more perfect fruit when it was going to be eaten within a day or two, and held it out.
He couldn't really afford to give it away, any more than the coin he'd just been thinking he couldn't afford to spare, and why he even cared about some street brat who's name he didn't even know... he recognized that thought as being a remnant of his time in the Marikas household, and ignored it. He cared because he'd once been there, dependent on the charity of passers-by and only able to eat once the day's gleanings were counted and someone could be found willing to sell the last scraps of their day's wares for cheap. He didn't care a lot, because Lesley was simply not a man who got upset at other people's suffering, but he apparently cared one apricot-worth, at least.
For fuck's sake. Apparently this summer was going to suck on multiple levels. Lesley had gone hungry before, and he would simply tighten his belt and do it again - though for a gladiator in fighting trim, merely 'hungry' still implied more food than 'full' had as a scrawny kid. Even so, he was more concerned with buying for his mother than himself - he could depend on at least lunch from the common pot at the gladiator barracks. And why on earth was local fish so expensive today? That couldn't possibly be in short supply. "What the fuck? For this? You damned shitcunt, there's no way..."
Okay, so maybe the heat was still making him short-tempered, though luckily nothing was setting him off the way it had a couple of weeks ago. The climbing prices weren't yet an insurmountable problem for him, but for once he was distinctly not liking the idea of stepping into the arena to try to win extra cash - mostly that stubborn streak that hated being forced into anything, but a good portion of his reluctance was due to the weather. He was hardly twenty any more, and pit him against one of the African gladiators good enough to simply keep their range and drag it out, and he would lose. Still better than starving to death out here, but he'd much rather go down because someone was honestly better than him - though, he supposed, you could call it the gods stepping in to decide the matter. Fair enough.
It didn't occur to him that most people didn't distract themselves from stress by contemplating their own inevitable and brutal deaths, just moved on to arguing with the next merchant.
At least they were doing all right in terms of supplies for the shop, but listening to the gossip, Lesley suspected that he needed to buy anything imported now, dyestuffs and silk and maybe even wool was likely to become entirely unobtainable in very short order. He considered how much coin he had left, and wandered off in another direction. He managed a couple more purchases, gave up on a third, and at the next stall when someone else butted in and offered to pay the price he'd just refused - after he'd haggled the merchant down by practically a third, and they'd been just about to come to an agreement - for the last of the man's stock, the gladiator vented an entire string of profanity and decided that it would probably be better to let his mother prioritize what they needed and how much they could afford to pay, anyway. Besides, his earlier purchases would last longer the sooner he got it into the cool shade of their pantry.
He was just turning his feet back towards home, when a few quiet notes caught his attention; he recognized the musician as one he'd tossed a coin or two to before. Just the plucked strings on the phorminx, at the moment, no sweet words accompanying it. Lesley moved closer, music always improved his mood at least a bit - if you considered quiet and surly better than loud and pissy, at least. He frowned, his features settling firmly into grouch mode as he noticed the rhapsodist's pallor. Experience made him particularly good at noticing how exhausted or heat-addled someone was - usually so he could take advantage of it, but that was neither here nor there - and he walked up to the musician as the tune ended, shifting his basket with an irritated huff. "Have you had anything to eat today? You're about to fall over. Or anything to drink at least?" He strongly suspected not, and that was just dumb, and couldn't be blamed on poverty. The well-water available for free to the lower-class residents was relatively heavy with minerals, and anyone with a tongue to taste it would prefer wine, but it served well enough to wet one's throat, or stave off heat-sickness. "Here. Honestly." He reached into his basket and pulled out an apricot, slightly bruised because he'd refused to pay what had been asked for the more perfect fruit when it was going to be eaten within a day or two, and held it out.
He couldn't really afford to give it away, any more than the coin he'd just been thinking he couldn't afford to spare, and why he even cared about some street brat who's name he didn't even know... he recognized that thought as being a remnant of his time in the Marikas household, and ignored it. He cared because he'd once been there, dependent on the charity of passers-by and only able to eat once the day's gleanings were counted and someone could be found willing to sell the last scraps of their day's wares for cheap. He didn't care a lot, because Lesley was simply not a man who got upset at other people's suffering, but he apparently cared one apricot-worth, at least.
Stop stalling!
Koko had to think of some positive song...but his background thoughts were beginning to overpower the good ones one by one. He was just so parched and his stomach kept growling.. Shit, what about her mother? Had she gotten her own ration? Koko didn’t remember, he honestly didn’t know about anything that happened before he arrived at the market. He had just been so focused on showing off his talent that he had forgotten about his own mother. The only close family that he had at the moment.
With food being high in demand, Koko doubted that anyone in their right mind would give him any money, regardless of how low the amount was. She could forget about food, maybe she would get leftovers if one was feeling especially kind. After all, she did look like a rugrat out on these streets. The locals knew that he came here just to sing day and night. Besides that, Koko didn’t believe that they knew anything else.
Oh, the heat...
He felt like his brain was melting and getting cooked over fire...
Did people think of her that way? That she was nothing more than a one trick pony? That the only skill about him was singing, one which wasn’t a rare thing. After all, there were plenty of other singers around, and there were plenty of singers who knew how to play instruments too! Sure, the tunes that Koko played were self-made but at the end of the day, nobody actually praised his work. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake...
Fuck...the heat!
“Stop...stop...” Koko mumbled out to himself. Tears would’ve been visible in his eyes if the Sun hadn’t been beating down on his face. The heat was making her think all of these awful things! She was loved-her work was respected! A few critics couldn’t make her give up! If he wasn’t so tired from singing for almost the entire day, Koko would spend his time just reflecting on the day all night. Really...what was she without her little phorminx? Anyone who felt annoyed from her music could simply walk up to her and smash it to bits or steal it. It was that easy...all of her life gone...just like that.
Well, it didn’t happen yet!
She wouldn’t change her favorite hobby. A stupid heatwave couldn’t change that! It may make her feel less motivated and more lazy but a simple freaking drink would put her mind at ease. Even though she wanted to bring smiles to faces, she would have to accept that for once...she probably couldn’t. Even she had to face the facts.
Would she sing badly or not sing at all?
Sing through the pain or follow everyone else’s lead to get food and water.
One thing was sure though. She wouldn’t dare end her singing career. There was always another day..a cooler day. Even so, there had to be some way to quench her thirst! Koko wouldn’t back down until the sun rose in the west and set in the east. When the seas went dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. He would have to faint or be shoved out before he even considered leaving.
Koko suddenly found himself crying out, it just being a little more audible than his mumble. He stumbled forward, managing to catch himself right before he fell. Not only can he hear the rumbling in his stomach but he can feel the twisting too. The pain of hunger shot from his stomach to his groin and ended at the center of his back. Could his stomach digest itself..? It felt like it was doing exactly that.
Sing, goddammit!
Koko then gathered up his pain into a mental ball and let it all out, singing some random lyrics even if it sounded like crap. It really were just mumbles though before he went silent, closing his eyes while he strummed the phorminx. That was when Koko heard footsteps getting close to him, the musician forcing his red eyes to open. There was not a hint of liquid visible in the blonde’s eyes but you could see his pain.
Koko looked at the man with a startled expression, as if he had just seen him. He didn’t want to talk, not because he didn’t trust him but because he didn’t want to lose his voice. Koko actually recognized him..yes, he saw many faces at the market but he did know that this man had given him coins in the past. Wait...could she consider this one of her..fans?!
Koko then lowered his gaze to the basket, his dry eyes widening when the man took out a rather bruised fruit. It may have not been clear of marks and firm but it was perfect to him. If he had stayed just a little longer in the heat, he probably would’ve gotten down on his knees and started worshiping the apricot!
Koko hurriedly took the apricot, fearful that a thief might snatch it due to being desperate..like him. He sunk his teeth into the orange fruit, the juice squirting into his mouth. Right then and there, Koko declared that this was the best fruit he had ever tasted. The fuzzy skin tickled at his tongue and its sweet-tarty juice quenched his thirst. Relief came over him, and it wasn’t long before his stomach stopped rumbling, happy to welcome the pieces of fruit that slid down his throat.
He didn’t waste a single drop of juice, quickly licking up any liquid that ran down his chin and stained his fingers. Koko had to literally force himself to pull back, not wanting the man to leave just yet. He didn’t take a deep breath, knowing that the dryness of the air would just bring back his thirst. Instead, he exhaled through his mouth and breathed in through his nose which already burned from the dust particles that rested inside.
It was a better method than sacrificing his throat to the heat again.
Koko carefully tucked his phorminx under his arm, making sure that he wouldn’t risk dropping his beloved instrument. He then gave the stranger a dip of his head, not kneeling down in case he would end up not being able to get up again. He had so many words to say but so little time...
It wouldn’t be long before the dryness of his throat returned.
“Koko...Is my name...Thank you.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Stop stalling!
Koko had to think of some positive song...but his background thoughts were beginning to overpower the good ones one by one. He was just so parched and his stomach kept growling.. Shit, what about her mother? Had she gotten her own ration? Koko didn’t remember, he honestly didn’t know about anything that happened before he arrived at the market. He had just been so focused on showing off his talent that he had forgotten about his own mother. The only close family that he had at the moment.
With food being high in demand, Koko doubted that anyone in their right mind would give him any money, regardless of how low the amount was. She could forget about food, maybe she would get leftovers if one was feeling especially kind. After all, she did look like a rugrat out on these streets. The locals knew that he came here just to sing day and night. Besides that, Koko didn’t believe that they knew anything else.
Oh, the heat...
He felt like his brain was melting and getting cooked over fire...
Did people think of her that way? That she was nothing more than a one trick pony? That the only skill about him was singing, one which wasn’t a rare thing. After all, there were plenty of other singers around, and there were plenty of singers who knew how to play instruments too! Sure, the tunes that Koko played were self-made but at the end of the day, nobody actually praised his work. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake...
Fuck...the heat!
“Stop...stop...” Koko mumbled out to himself. Tears would’ve been visible in his eyes if the Sun hadn’t been beating down on his face. The heat was making her think all of these awful things! She was loved-her work was respected! A few critics couldn’t make her give up! If he wasn’t so tired from singing for almost the entire day, Koko would spend his time just reflecting on the day all night. Really...what was she without her little phorminx? Anyone who felt annoyed from her music could simply walk up to her and smash it to bits or steal it. It was that easy...all of her life gone...just like that.
Well, it didn’t happen yet!
She wouldn’t change her favorite hobby. A stupid heatwave couldn’t change that! It may make her feel less motivated and more lazy but a simple freaking drink would put her mind at ease. Even though she wanted to bring smiles to faces, she would have to accept that for once...she probably couldn’t. Even she had to face the facts.
Would she sing badly or not sing at all?
Sing through the pain or follow everyone else’s lead to get food and water.
One thing was sure though. She wouldn’t dare end her singing career. There was always another day..a cooler day. Even so, there had to be some way to quench her thirst! Koko wouldn’t back down until the sun rose in the west and set in the east. When the seas went dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. He would have to faint or be shoved out before he even considered leaving.
Koko suddenly found himself crying out, it just being a little more audible than his mumble. He stumbled forward, managing to catch himself right before he fell. Not only can he hear the rumbling in his stomach but he can feel the twisting too. The pain of hunger shot from his stomach to his groin and ended at the center of his back. Could his stomach digest itself..? It felt like it was doing exactly that.
Sing, goddammit!
Koko then gathered up his pain into a mental ball and let it all out, singing some random lyrics even if it sounded like crap. It really were just mumbles though before he went silent, closing his eyes while he strummed the phorminx. That was when Koko heard footsteps getting close to him, the musician forcing his red eyes to open. There was not a hint of liquid visible in the blonde’s eyes but you could see his pain.
Koko looked at the man with a startled expression, as if he had just seen him. He didn’t want to talk, not because he didn’t trust him but because he didn’t want to lose his voice. Koko actually recognized him..yes, he saw many faces at the market but he did know that this man had given him coins in the past. Wait...could she consider this one of her..fans?!
Koko then lowered his gaze to the basket, his dry eyes widening when the man took out a rather bruised fruit. It may have not been clear of marks and firm but it was perfect to him. If he had stayed just a little longer in the heat, he probably would’ve gotten down on his knees and started worshiping the apricot!
Koko hurriedly took the apricot, fearful that a thief might snatch it due to being desperate..like him. He sunk his teeth into the orange fruit, the juice squirting into his mouth. Right then and there, Koko declared that this was the best fruit he had ever tasted. The fuzzy skin tickled at his tongue and its sweet-tarty juice quenched his thirst. Relief came over him, and it wasn’t long before his stomach stopped rumbling, happy to welcome the pieces of fruit that slid down his throat.
He didn’t waste a single drop of juice, quickly licking up any liquid that ran down his chin and stained his fingers. Koko had to literally force himself to pull back, not wanting the man to leave just yet. He didn’t take a deep breath, knowing that the dryness of the air would just bring back his thirst. Instead, he exhaled through his mouth and breathed in through his nose which already burned from the dust particles that rested inside.
It was a better method than sacrificing his throat to the heat again.
Koko carefully tucked his phorminx under his arm, making sure that he wouldn’t risk dropping his beloved instrument. He then gave the stranger a dip of his head, not kneeling down in case he would end up not being able to get up again. He had so many words to say but so little time...
It wouldn’t be long before the dryness of his throat returned.
“Koko...Is my name...Thank you.”
Stop stalling!
Koko had to think of some positive song...but his background thoughts were beginning to overpower the good ones one by one. He was just so parched and his stomach kept growling.. Shit, what about her mother? Had she gotten her own ration? Koko didn’t remember, he honestly didn’t know about anything that happened before he arrived at the market. He had just been so focused on showing off his talent that he had forgotten about his own mother. The only close family that he had at the moment.
With food being high in demand, Koko doubted that anyone in their right mind would give him any money, regardless of how low the amount was. She could forget about food, maybe she would get leftovers if one was feeling especially kind. After all, she did look like a rugrat out on these streets. The locals knew that he came here just to sing day and night. Besides that, Koko didn’t believe that they knew anything else.
Oh, the heat...
He felt like his brain was melting and getting cooked over fire...
Did people think of her that way? That she was nothing more than a one trick pony? That the only skill about him was singing, one which wasn’t a rare thing. After all, there were plenty of other singers around, and there were plenty of singers who knew how to play instruments too! Sure, the tunes that Koko played were self-made but at the end of the day, nobody actually praised his work. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake...
Fuck...the heat!
“Stop...stop...” Koko mumbled out to himself. Tears would’ve been visible in his eyes if the Sun hadn’t been beating down on his face. The heat was making her think all of these awful things! She was loved-her work was respected! A few critics couldn’t make her give up! If he wasn’t so tired from singing for almost the entire day, Koko would spend his time just reflecting on the day all night. Really...what was she without her little phorminx? Anyone who felt annoyed from her music could simply walk up to her and smash it to bits or steal it. It was that easy...all of her life gone...just like that.
Well, it didn’t happen yet!
She wouldn’t change her favorite hobby. A stupid heatwave couldn’t change that! It may make her feel less motivated and more lazy but a simple freaking drink would put her mind at ease. Even though she wanted to bring smiles to faces, she would have to accept that for once...she probably couldn’t. Even she had to face the facts.
Would she sing badly or not sing at all?
Sing through the pain or follow everyone else’s lead to get food and water.
One thing was sure though. She wouldn’t dare end her singing career. There was always another day..a cooler day. Even so, there had to be some way to quench her thirst! Koko wouldn’t back down until the sun rose in the west and set in the east. When the seas went dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. He would have to faint or be shoved out before he even considered leaving.
Koko suddenly found himself crying out, it just being a little more audible than his mumble. He stumbled forward, managing to catch himself right before he fell. Not only can he hear the rumbling in his stomach but he can feel the twisting too. The pain of hunger shot from his stomach to his groin and ended at the center of his back. Could his stomach digest itself..? It felt like it was doing exactly that.
Sing, goddammit!
Koko then gathered up his pain into a mental ball and let it all out, singing some random lyrics even if it sounded like crap. It really were just mumbles though before he went silent, closing his eyes while he strummed the phorminx. That was when Koko heard footsteps getting close to him, the musician forcing his red eyes to open. There was not a hint of liquid visible in the blonde’s eyes but you could see his pain.
Koko looked at the man with a startled expression, as if he had just seen him. He didn’t want to talk, not because he didn’t trust him but because he didn’t want to lose his voice. Koko actually recognized him..yes, he saw many faces at the market but he did know that this man had given him coins in the past. Wait...could she consider this one of her..fans?!
Koko then lowered his gaze to the basket, his dry eyes widening when the man took out a rather bruised fruit. It may have not been clear of marks and firm but it was perfect to him. If he had stayed just a little longer in the heat, he probably would’ve gotten down on his knees and started worshiping the apricot!
Koko hurriedly took the apricot, fearful that a thief might snatch it due to being desperate..like him. He sunk his teeth into the orange fruit, the juice squirting into his mouth. Right then and there, Koko declared that this was the best fruit he had ever tasted. The fuzzy skin tickled at his tongue and its sweet-tarty juice quenched his thirst. Relief came over him, and it wasn’t long before his stomach stopped rumbling, happy to welcome the pieces of fruit that slid down his throat.
He didn’t waste a single drop of juice, quickly licking up any liquid that ran down his chin and stained his fingers. Koko had to literally force himself to pull back, not wanting the man to leave just yet. He didn’t take a deep breath, knowing that the dryness of the air would just bring back his thirst. Instead, he exhaled through his mouth and breathed in through his nose which already burned from the dust particles that rested inside.
It was a better method than sacrificing his throat to the heat again.
Koko carefully tucked his phorminx under his arm, making sure that he wouldn’t risk dropping his beloved instrument. He then gave the stranger a dip of his head, not kneeling down in case he would end up not being able to get up again. He had so many words to say but so little time...
It wouldn’t be long before the dryness of his throat returned.
“Koko...Is my name...Thank you.”
Lesley watched the fruit swiftly disappear, his eyes ever so slightly unfocused and his expression blank. No judgement, just thinking, though whether that was obvious to anyone who didn't know him wasn't at all certain. Thinking slowly, in fact, because when it wasn't a matter of life and death - his own life or death, to be precise - whether he was particularly sharp or not tended to depend on the day. Getting hit in the head was only one of the downsides of his career choice.
"I'm Lesley." It sounded grouchy, but he was hardly obliged to give a random street performer his name, so it was probably supposed to be friendly. This heat would make anyone grumpy. He stared at the musician a moment longer, then added, "Seriously. If you can't afford to buy a drink, then go have some water." He pointed up the street in the direction of the nearest public fountain. "This heat can kill a man, otherwise." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed away. He needed to get home, put things away, have a drink himself, and tell his mother about what was going on in the market. By the time he reached the end of the block, he'd all but forgotten Koko.
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Lesley watched the fruit swiftly disappear, his eyes ever so slightly unfocused and his expression blank. No judgement, just thinking, though whether that was obvious to anyone who didn't know him wasn't at all certain. Thinking slowly, in fact, because when it wasn't a matter of life and death - his own life or death, to be precise - whether he was particularly sharp or not tended to depend on the day. Getting hit in the head was only one of the downsides of his career choice.
"I'm Lesley." It sounded grouchy, but he was hardly obliged to give a random street performer his name, so it was probably supposed to be friendly. This heat would make anyone grumpy. He stared at the musician a moment longer, then added, "Seriously. If you can't afford to buy a drink, then go have some water." He pointed up the street in the direction of the nearest public fountain. "This heat can kill a man, otherwise." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed away. He needed to get home, put things away, have a drink himself, and tell his mother about what was going on in the market. By the time he reached the end of the block, he'd all but forgotten Koko.
Lesley watched the fruit swiftly disappear, his eyes ever so slightly unfocused and his expression blank. No judgement, just thinking, though whether that was obvious to anyone who didn't know him wasn't at all certain. Thinking slowly, in fact, because when it wasn't a matter of life and death - his own life or death, to be precise - whether he was particularly sharp or not tended to depend on the day. Getting hit in the head was only one of the downsides of his career choice.
"I'm Lesley." It sounded grouchy, but he was hardly obliged to give a random street performer his name, so it was probably supposed to be friendly. This heat would make anyone grumpy. He stared at the musician a moment longer, then added, "Seriously. If you can't afford to buy a drink, then go have some water." He pointed up the street in the direction of the nearest public fountain. "This heat can kill a man, otherwise." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed away. He needed to get home, put things away, have a drink himself, and tell his mother about what was going on in the market. By the time he reached the end of the block, he'd all but forgotten Koko.
Lesley...
Koko immediately felt intrigued...curious to learn more about this man. It could just be the heat going to his head but he wanted to continue their discussion. Lesley didn’t seem to be feeling much of anything...she couldn’t tell how he was feeling at all. It was as if he was a statue...emotionless and stuck to a permanent look. He had been so kind to give her food though...especially when it was in high demand.
Koko was just flabbergasted on why Lesley of all people would show kindness to him like that. He didn’t know anything about him besides his name. Yet something about him was addictive. What could it possibly be though?? She had seen and heard of much more interesting folks that people would dream to talk too. Yet he had a desire in him that urged him to speak more...converse with this man longer..even if it were just for a few moments.
Koko then found himself standing in the middle of the marketplace like an idiot. Lesley had already walked away, and nearly was out of sight by now. He wanted to continue to sing but he doubted anyone would give him fruit or water like Lesley had. She supposed that it was becoming old now...she had already forgotten the next poem that he was supposed to sing.
He could feel his tongue start to dry out again and his legs become shaky. Would she make it to Lesley in time..? She had to...she wanted..she desired to know more. Propelling himself forward, Koko started to sprint down the block, managing to reach Lesley after thirty seconds. “Wait!” He exclaimed, nearly falling over by the time he had reached the man. He was shaking and sweat ran down his forehead rapidly.
“Don’t go..Please...” Koko mumbled, taking a deep breath through his mouth despite the dryness of the air. “I don’t why but...I just feel wrong letting you leave like that...You didn’t have to give me fruit but you did..I just don’t understand.”
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Lesley...
Koko immediately felt intrigued...curious to learn more about this man. It could just be the heat going to his head but he wanted to continue their discussion. Lesley didn’t seem to be feeling much of anything...she couldn’t tell how he was feeling at all. It was as if he was a statue...emotionless and stuck to a permanent look. He had been so kind to give her food though...especially when it was in high demand.
Koko was just flabbergasted on why Lesley of all people would show kindness to him like that. He didn’t know anything about him besides his name. Yet something about him was addictive. What could it possibly be though?? She had seen and heard of much more interesting folks that people would dream to talk too. Yet he had a desire in him that urged him to speak more...converse with this man longer..even if it were just for a few moments.
Koko then found himself standing in the middle of the marketplace like an idiot. Lesley had already walked away, and nearly was out of sight by now. He wanted to continue to sing but he doubted anyone would give him fruit or water like Lesley had. She supposed that it was becoming old now...she had already forgotten the next poem that he was supposed to sing.
He could feel his tongue start to dry out again and his legs become shaky. Would she make it to Lesley in time..? She had to...she wanted..she desired to know more. Propelling himself forward, Koko started to sprint down the block, managing to reach Lesley after thirty seconds. “Wait!” He exclaimed, nearly falling over by the time he had reached the man. He was shaking and sweat ran down his forehead rapidly.
“Don’t go..Please...” Koko mumbled, taking a deep breath through his mouth despite the dryness of the air. “I don’t why but...I just feel wrong letting you leave like that...You didn’t have to give me fruit but you did..I just don’t understand.”
Lesley...
Koko immediately felt intrigued...curious to learn more about this man. It could just be the heat going to his head but he wanted to continue their discussion. Lesley didn’t seem to be feeling much of anything...she couldn’t tell how he was feeling at all. It was as if he was a statue...emotionless and stuck to a permanent look. He had been so kind to give her food though...especially when it was in high demand.
Koko was just flabbergasted on why Lesley of all people would show kindness to him like that. He didn’t know anything about him besides his name. Yet something about him was addictive. What could it possibly be though?? She had seen and heard of much more interesting folks that people would dream to talk too. Yet he had a desire in him that urged him to speak more...converse with this man longer..even if it were just for a few moments.
Koko then found himself standing in the middle of the marketplace like an idiot. Lesley had already walked away, and nearly was out of sight by now. He wanted to continue to sing but he doubted anyone would give him fruit or water like Lesley had. She supposed that it was becoming old now...she had already forgotten the next poem that he was supposed to sing.
He could feel his tongue start to dry out again and his legs become shaky. Would she make it to Lesley in time..? She had to...she wanted..she desired to know more. Propelling himself forward, Koko started to sprint down the block, managing to reach Lesley after thirty seconds. “Wait!” He exclaimed, nearly falling over by the time he had reached the man. He was shaking and sweat ran down his forehead rapidly.
“Don’t go..Please...” Koko mumbled, taking a deep breath through his mouth despite the dryness of the air. “I don’t why but...I just feel wrong letting you leave like that...You didn’t have to give me fruit but you did..I just don’t understand.”
The gladiator didn't react to Koko's presence for a long moment, continuing to walk down the street but without the feeling of trying to walk away from the musician. He was going in this direction, and whether anyone else came along or not was not in any way his problem.
"You're heat-addled," he said at last. Not a criticism, exactly; just an observation. Then, "I do plenty of things I don't have to."
He considered the younger man for a moment, before adding, "My earliest memories are of begging on street corners." It wasn't something he was ashamed of, but it wasn't something good, either. It just was. He nodded towards the instrument clutched in the musician's arms. "You've that, at least."
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The gladiator didn't react to Koko's presence for a long moment, continuing to walk down the street but without the feeling of trying to walk away from the musician. He was going in this direction, and whether anyone else came along or not was not in any way his problem.
"You're heat-addled," he said at last. Not a criticism, exactly; just an observation. Then, "I do plenty of things I don't have to."
He considered the younger man for a moment, before adding, "My earliest memories are of begging on street corners." It wasn't something he was ashamed of, but it wasn't something good, either. It just was. He nodded towards the instrument clutched in the musician's arms. "You've that, at least."
The gladiator didn't react to Koko's presence for a long moment, continuing to walk down the street but without the feeling of trying to walk away from the musician. He was going in this direction, and whether anyone else came along or not was not in any way his problem.
"You're heat-addled," he said at last. Not a criticism, exactly; just an observation. Then, "I do plenty of things I don't have to."
He considered the younger man for a moment, before adding, "My earliest memories are of begging on street corners." It wasn't something he was ashamed of, but it wasn't something good, either. It just was. He nodded towards the instrument clutched in the musician's arms. "You've that, at least."
Curveball Hungry Mouths
Unperturbed by the great crowds of people clamouring for the limited resources upon the stalls at the market place, a woman of fewer years than her haggard appearance might suggest runs through the agora. Her expression is fearful and desperate as she carries a bundle of blankets in her arms, her hand over the back of a babes swaddled head. She calls for aid. Asking if any one has any food... any medicine... It is clear that the woman is of such low birth she might even be a slave and that her child is ill. Many shy away, in the hopes that such illness is not infectious when food is scarce and strength low. Not to mention that few are willing to part with food when this dilution of produce is what the market has now become...
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Unperturbed by the great crowds of people clamouring for the limited resources upon the stalls at the market place, a woman of fewer years than her haggard appearance might suggest runs through the agora. Her expression is fearful and desperate as she carries a bundle of blankets in her arms, her hand over the back of a babes swaddled head. She calls for aid. Asking if any one has any food... any medicine... It is clear that the woman is of such low birth she might even be a slave and that her child is ill. Many shy away, in the hopes that such illness is not infectious when food is scarce and strength low. Not to mention that few are willing to part with food when this dilution of produce is what the market has now become...
Curveball Hungry Mouths
Unperturbed by the great crowds of people clamouring for the limited resources upon the stalls at the market place, a woman of fewer years than her haggard appearance might suggest runs through the agora. Her expression is fearful and desperate as she carries a bundle of blankets in her arms, her hand over the back of a babes swaddled head. She calls for aid. Asking if any one has any food... any medicine... It is clear that the woman is of such low birth she might even be a slave and that her child is ill. Many shy away, in the hopes that such illness is not infectious when food is scarce and strength low. Not to mention that few are willing to part with food when this dilution of produce is what the market has now become...
"Mei-"
Her head jerked up at her sister's voice.
"Did you catch anything I just said?"
"Ye- No." Meilin quickly forwent the notion of spinning a lie for her sister. "I'm sorry, Erqing. It's just," she paused, flitting a hand over her face, a face that she was sure was rapidly turning red in the searing afternoon sun, "so hot. And the shops-"
"Pathetic, isn't it?" When Meilin said nothing, Erqing sighed. "Food scarcity! Surely you must have read something about it in those books of yours."
"The problem is," Meilin quipped back, slightly sassily, she would have to say. "Those books would have never spoken ill of Athenia's governance. Inability to provide sufficient food is considered neglect of the people, and do you think the Queen would have tolerated such talk or writing?" She cast her gaze far out to the writhing mass of patrons in the near distance, their shouts and frantic calls for prices ringing high and clear through the air. A riot, if she ever saw one. It twisted a squirmy knot in the pit of her stomach.
Not even Erqing seemed to have a reply for that. The lips pursed, contemplative, then- "I meant to buy fruit. That would be impossible, now, with this hubbub."
"The crowd is all bark and no bite," Meilin said stubbornly, gripping her sister's arm lest she made to turn back and head for home. Despite her reservations, she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to purchase those sweet apricots for the world, especially in this sweltering heat that threatened to fry her scalp off. Really... The Chinese woman blinked, tottering a little on her feet. The hot, dry air seemed to ripple.
"And we risk you collapsing into a faint at this rate." Her misstep had not been missed from Erqing's eye, and she quickly grabbed her sister's shoulder. Nevertheless, her mouth softened. "I suppose a few apricots wouldn't hurt."
The pair sought an opening in the crowd and slipped in - so far so good, Meilin had thought - then they were jostled from all side by sweaty bodies, young and old, the noise crescendoing now that there were actually in it. Where were the shops? Gone, but what was left was out of sight. Hidden by the frenzy of people desperate to lay their hands on a morsel of food, bombarding the panicked shopkeepers with spittle and cries. She stumbled, knocked forward by an elbow, then side-stepped, only to trod on someone's foot. Meilin anticipated anger, a glare, but not even a sore foot could deter the person in question from shoving her way through the crowd.
Insanity.
Yet Meilin wasn’t called determined for nothing. Keeping a tight hold onto Erqing, she found herself being pushed closer and closer to where their usual apricot stall lay, where the balding shopkeeper would be, sweating profusely over the spell of despair that had suddenly gripped the agora. And once she could see him- ”Aegeus! We would like-”
“Hey, girl, get back in line.” Hot breath on her neck. She twisted, finding herself locked in the scowl of a burly, raggedly-clad man with a generous belly.
Her eyes narrowed. Her chin came up, proud and incredulous, pointing at the mess - ”Sir, there is no line!”
She was certain he would have lunged at her right there and then, had a thin, haggard woman not burst out into view with a swaddled baby cradled tightly in her arms. Meilin would have wondered why she had, in particular, stood out, but then she realised people were hastily skittering away. Oh. Her eyes widened. Erqing’s grip was beginning to border on pain. Disease?
But this woman didn’t seem sick. Just… Desperate.
Meilin stopped short, hesitant.
Erqing’s fingers tightened. She winced. The woman stumbled, and their eyes met, stunned to stricken, woman to woman. Her throat constricted in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.
Perhaps... If she could just buy some apricots...
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Sept 30, 2019 4:26:47 GMT
Posted In Hungry Mouths on Sept 30, 2019 4:26:47 GMT
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"Mei-"
Her head jerked up at her sister's voice.
"Did you catch anything I just said?"
"Ye- No." Meilin quickly forwent the notion of spinning a lie for her sister. "I'm sorry, Erqing. It's just," she paused, flitting a hand over her face, a face that she was sure was rapidly turning red in the searing afternoon sun, "so hot. And the shops-"
"Pathetic, isn't it?" When Meilin said nothing, Erqing sighed. "Food scarcity! Surely you must have read something about it in those books of yours."
"The problem is," Meilin quipped back, slightly sassily, she would have to say. "Those books would have never spoken ill of Athenia's governance. Inability to provide sufficient food is considered neglect of the people, and do you think the Queen would have tolerated such talk or writing?" She cast her gaze far out to the writhing mass of patrons in the near distance, their shouts and frantic calls for prices ringing high and clear through the air. A riot, if she ever saw one. It twisted a squirmy knot in the pit of her stomach.
Not even Erqing seemed to have a reply for that. The lips pursed, contemplative, then- "I meant to buy fruit. That would be impossible, now, with this hubbub."
"The crowd is all bark and no bite," Meilin said stubbornly, gripping her sister's arm lest she made to turn back and head for home. Despite her reservations, she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to purchase those sweet apricots for the world, especially in this sweltering heat that threatened to fry her scalp off. Really... The Chinese woman blinked, tottering a little on her feet. The hot, dry air seemed to ripple.
"And we risk you collapsing into a faint at this rate." Her misstep had not been missed from Erqing's eye, and she quickly grabbed her sister's shoulder. Nevertheless, her mouth softened. "I suppose a few apricots wouldn't hurt."
The pair sought an opening in the crowd and slipped in - so far so good, Meilin had thought - then they were jostled from all side by sweaty bodies, young and old, the noise crescendoing now that there were actually in it. Where were the shops? Gone, but what was left was out of sight. Hidden by the frenzy of people desperate to lay their hands on a morsel of food, bombarding the panicked shopkeepers with spittle and cries. She stumbled, knocked forward by an elbow, then side-stepped, only to trod on someone's foot. Meilin anticipated anger, a glare, but not even a sore foot could deter the person in question from shoving her way through the crowd.
Insanity.
Yet Meilin wasn’t called determined for nothing. Keeping a tight hold onto Erqing, she found herself being pushed closer and closer to where their usual apricot stall lay, where the balding shopkeeper would be, sweating profusely over the spell of despair that had suddenly gripped the agora. And once she could see him- ”Aegeus! We would like-”
“Hey, girl, get back in line.” Hot breath on her neck. She twisted, finding herself locked in the scowl of a burly, raggedly-clad man with a generous belly.
Her eyes narrowed. Her chin came up, proud and incredulous, pointing at the mess - ”Sir, there is no line!”
She was certain he would have lunged at her right there and then, had a thin, haggard woman not burst out into view with a swaddled baby cradled tightly in her arms. Meilin would have wondered why she had, in particular, stood out, but then she realised people were hastily skittering away. Oh. Her eyes widened. Erqing’s grip was beginning to border on pain. Disease?
But this woman didn’t seem sick. Just… Desperate.
Meilin stopped short, hesitant.
Erqing’s fingers tightened. She winced. The woman stumbled, and their eyes met, stunned to stricken, woman to woman. Her throat constricted in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.
Perhaps... If she could just buy some apricots...
"Mei-"
Her head jerked up at her sister's voice.
"Did you catch anything I just said?"
"Ye- No." Meilin quickly forwent the notion of spinning a lie for her sister. "I'm sorry, Erqing. It's just," she paused, flitting a hand over her face, a face that she was sure was rapidly turning red in the searing afternoon sun, "so hot. And the shops-"
"Pathetic, isn't it?" When Meilin said nothing, Erqing sighed. "Food scarcity! Surely you must have read something about it in those books of yours."
"The problem is," Meilin quipped back, slightly sassily, she would have to say. "Those books would have never spoken ill of Athenia's governance. Inability to provide sufficient food is considered neglect of the people, and do you think the Queen would have tolerated such talk or writing?" She cast her gaze far out to the writhing mass of patrons in the near distance, their shouts and frantic calls for prices ringing high and clear through the air. A riot, if she ever saw one. It twisted a squirmy knot in the pit of her stomach.
Not even Erqing seemed to have a reply for that. The lips pursed, contemplative, then- "I meant to buy fruit. That would be impossible, now, with this hubbub."
"The crowd is all bark and no bite," Meilin said stubbornly, gripping her sister's arm lest she made to turn back and head for home. Despite her reservations, she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to purchase those sweet apricots for the world, especially in this sweltering heat that threatened to fry her scalp off. Really... The Chinese woman blinked, tottering a little on her feet. The hot, dry air seemed to ripple.
"And we risk you collapsing into a faint at this rate." Her misstep had not been missed from Erqing's eye, and she quickly grabbed her sister's shoulder. Nevertheless, her mouth softened. "I suppose a few apricots wouldn't hurt."
The pair sought an opening in the crowd and slipped in - so far so good, Meilin had thought - then they were jostled from all side by sweaty bodies, young and old, the noise crescendoing now that there were actually in it. Where were the shops? Gone, but what was left was out of sight. Hidden by the frenzy of people desperate to lay their hands on a morsel of food, bombarding the panicked shopkeepers with spittle and cries. She stumbled, knocked forward by an elbow, then side-stepped, only to trod on someone's foot. Meilin anticipated anger, a glare, but not even a sore foot could deter the person in question from shoving her way through the crowd.
Insanity.
Yet Meilin wasn’t called determined for nothing. Keeping a tight hold onto Erqing, she found herself being pushed closer and closer to where their usual apricot stall lay, where the balding shopkeeper would be, sweating profusely over the spell of despair that had suddenly gripped the agora. And once she could see him- ”Aegeus! We would like-”
“Hey, girl, get back in line.” Hot breath on her neck. She twisted, finding herself locked in the scowl of a burly, raggedly-clad man with a generous belly.
Her eyes narrowed. Her chin came up, proud and incredulous, pointing at the mess - ”Sir, there is no line!”
She was certain he would have lunged at her right there and then, had a thin, haggard woman not burst out into view with a swaddled baby cradled tightly in her arms. Meilin would have wondered why she had, in particular, stood out, but then she realised people were hastily skittering away. Oh. Her eyes widened. Erqing’s grip was beginning to border on pain. Disease?
But this woman didn’t seem sick. Just… Desperate.
Meilin stopped short, hesitant.
Erqing’s fingers tightened. She winced. The woman stumbled, and their eyes met, stunned to stricken, woman to woman. Her throat constricted in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.