[open]Supply Run, Return of the Forevers

[Zaxton Books]

It was a rainy day in Cyril, for whatever that was worth. It depressed turnout at the market, perhaps, but it made for the ideal day-trip into the city for a certain group of people living out in the Recovered Jagd.

Rebecca and her diseased partner, Derryk, arrived at around noon, and this being on of the busier days of the week, the rain could not thin the crowds enough to prevent them from having to mingle in among the others. In general, they were given a wide birth. Nobody wanted to offend them, but nobody wanted to be too close, either.

Rebecca enjoyed market day, none the less. She was arrayed in her finest clothes, which wasn't saying much. She wore a skirt and tunic of rough, hand-woven linen; well-made but plain-seeming brown leather boots, and a drab green, woolen, hooded cape, fastened with a whalebone button. Beneath that, her faintly green skin was darkening, trying to soak up whatever it could of sunlight today. Derryk, by contrast, hated these days; he was dressed quite similar to her, with slacks instead of a skirt, and no cape or jacket to speak of. His skin had already darkened substantially, to the colour of fresh, rich basil leaves.

The pair rode in on an empty cart pulled by chocobo. In truth, this was their second trip to the city today; the first, well before dawn, had been to deliver goods to the various businesses around town, who either needed them bright and early, or preferred not to let their customers know where the cheese or bread had come from. It was a little insulting... but the ever-empathic Rebecca understood their caution.

Coming to a common area for the stationing of carts and beasts, the pair dismounted, paid the tender a tip up-front, and split off, heading in different directions. Rebecca wore her satchel over her shoulder (across her chest), intending to find new paper or parchment and a bottle of ink for Todd, a new whetstone for Lonnie, and perhaps a light novella for herself. Derryk, on the other hand, made a beeline for the ore-traders, looking for bars of steel, mythril, and adamite to take back to forge with him.

[cielo]

A hooded boy fell into step beside Rebecca as she walked through a crowd. The hood was partly for rain and partly for hiding his hair colour, a light blue; no need to attract more attention. "I stayed to help Donson put away his goods like you asked," Zallaurot said. "Didn't tip me but whatever. Anyways, there's a sale on paper over at Crawford's."

[Zaxton Books]

"Donson's an old grouch." She replied sweetly. "He votes in favour of sending clans to take over the commune all the time. Don't let him get to you."

She changed course just slightly, stopping at Crawford's stand. The old Nu Mou was a good man, and he seemed to get allong with the Commune fairly well; generally giving a cut rate on his papers and documents. She hemmed and hawed for a bit, testing the weight and texture of a few different scrolls of paper. Todd could be quite picky about it. "Have you been thinking of a trade lately, Zal?"

[cielo]

"Kind of, but I'm not real spectacular at anything. I'm pretty good at the loom but we don't need clothes. Maybe I'll look in some cookbooks or something."

He wanted to control his magic, a problem nobody in the commune knew about but him, he figured. It was dangerous when fire leapt from his hands because of an accidental gesture if he hadn't released it on purpose prior to that. The worst that had happened was scorched sleeves and blackened stone, but he was afraid it might happen in his sleep.

"Maybe I'm just not cut out for domestic stuff."

[Zaxton Books]

"Maybe you should apprentice with Todd. If we could get one or two more Mystic Scribes, it would help things at home a lot. But I suppose you have to do whatever you're driven to do. I don't want to force people into jobs."

She paid Crawford quietly. As she did so, a man stepped beside her. He was dressed in fine clothes of black and blue, with a matching blindfold. He presented a letter to Crawford, who tipped him with the money Rebecca had just paid him.

"Thank you, Professor."
"Of Course, Walter."

The man turned stiffly, and continued down the way unassisted.

[cielo]

Zallaurot blinked, and waited for Walter to go around the corner. He'd read books where blind people had superb hearing, and was hesitant.

"Beck? That was Zachary Adam's butler. Remember how I told you me and Greta nearly got snuffed and he got us a way out of his mansion? Yeah! How weird is that?"

[Zaxton Books]

((I'm sorry Sol! My computer died; I've only been able to get online at work.))

"Oh, yeah?" The forever's eyes clouded over with memory. "That seems like a real long time ago..."

She thought, for a moment. "I guess he must be Baronian. I heard that Adam died in a Clan War."

Tucking the papers into her satchel, she turned to Zal. "What's next?"

[cielo]

"Shame. Uh, I think there was going to be a debate on the legalization of Baronian jagds at Easthall, but it might've been cancelled 'cause of the rain."

[Zaxton Books]

"It probably is. The Easthall roof leaks like a sieve."

She smiled, giving Zal a nudge. "Shame Gretta didn't come with us, eh? I could send you two to run off and do whatever it is teenagers do with each other."

She paused, examining a selection of penny novellas. It was a shame, but you really couldn't get anything more robust in Cyril. Costa Del Sol, maybe, or Esthar.

[cielo]

"What? Beck I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

Zallaurot picked up a novel with a cover depicting a buxom lass swooning before an oily and well-muscled, nearly nude man with a sword. He put it back down almost immediately. Waste of paper.

[Zaxton Books]

Rebecca smirked, giggling a bit behind her hand as she studied a novella with the stupifying title of "A depicition of the Life of a Young Boy Named-"

She blacked out before the end, dropping it onto the counter. Next!

"... Legalizing the Jagds, huh?"

[cielo]

"We both know it's been tried before, but the Commune proves that bit by bit it's possible. Helje isn't a hellhole anymore, at least. Ahli is still an unsavory sort of place I hear."

[Zaxton Books]

"Helje had the Jagdhunters, before it had us. And we've barely scratched the surface."

Rebecca thought for a while longer, moving past a new stand. Someone was selling her jam as their own... which, she supposed, was to be expected. Still... it rankled in her chest like the blade of a knife.

"I suppose they'll expect to legalize us." She smirked. "Bring those renegade Forevers to heel."

[cielo]

Zallaurot shrugged. "What does it matter if they 'legalize' you or not? You're still people obviously, you still have souls."

[Zaxton Books]

"The "law" we have now is better. Baron's law brings greed and discord."