pawnstorm | [open]

Who: Adrasteius; perhaps you
When: 3/5 - 3/15
Where: Throughout Caissa
What: Working hard for the money; inciting the youth; picking pretty flowers
Rating: None

meet & greet; a

[ Sadly, Adrasteius is not the one with the arms. He does have a cascade of thick, lovely hair, though, and the children of this particular school cluster around him, petting him as though he's some kind of cat. But because they're nearly half his already meager height, and because they literally do not know any better, Adra doesn't feel his usual threatened agitation. He's not exactly enjoying himself, but he'll tolerate it. So long as their stubby fingers keep away from his ears. ]

--my people live in a city full of magic, just like yours. There are grand, cream and gold spires everywhere, decorated with enormous rubies that reflect so well it'll dazzle your eyes right out of your head if you look at them directly. Animated brooms sweep our streets, and the lanes of the city are dotted with huge, potted ferns that float. You can find anything you like in the central bazaar--not just armor and weapons, but food spiced with spells, rare books, and potions that'll turn you into things you can't even imagine. We cast magic with every breath. It's as much a part of our bodies as, say, our eyes.

[ He gestures to his own--glowing bright, pupils barely visible. ]

Or yours.

[ It's a rosy picture he's painting. Many things about Silvermoon are not so enchanting as he's describing. He doesn't mention the constructs that patrol the city, barking propaganda ('Happiness is mandatory, citizen.'). The guards who drag people from their beds to harass them on the street. The dens of demonic magic. The brainwashing, done out in the open, sanctioned by their absent prince. Adra's wise enough to know that such things are not for children's ears. So he smiles as he talks, genuine, but undercut with sorrow.

Not that he has time to dwell. The kids just keep piling on, fascinated by his unique physiology, and he might be starting to panic. ]

Not the ears, please!

meet & greet; b

[ Of course, he can't resist deviating from the script just a bit. When it comes time to talk about the pseudo-mana potion, Adra segues into it as best he knows how. ]

--now, not everything in my world is perfect. We do have some bad men running around, doing all kinds of bad things. And they get away with it! Can you imagine?

[ He taps his right earlobe. ]

Now, I hear you have a similar problem, children. Bad men trying to sell you a lie. You can't let them. You have to question everything put to you, okay? It doesn't matter if it's an adult, or what kind of title that adult claims to have. You have the right to think. You have the right to decide for yourself--and you should never bow to outside pressure. Not from a shady salesman, not from us 'heroes', not even your teachers. Understand?

[ A tiny chorus of 'yeahs!' comes in response. The supervising teacher might look a little worried. Maybe someone should step in and soften up the rhetoric? ]

herbing;

[ You'd best believe that Adrasteius spent some of his colle on gardening tools. Just a few things: a small hand spade, a little knife for cutting stems, as well as twine and burlap for carrying specimens. True, he lives in a cramped room with a bunch of other people and an obvious zero-lot line, but he's hoping he can claim a patch of earth for himself, someday. In the meantime, he's happy for the opportunity to familiarize himself with the local flora. He'd spent yesterday reading, observing, and making drawings; now, this morning, he's ready to go.

Back in Azeroth, Adrasteius collected herbs of every kind, and then milled them to make brilliant inks. Twilight purple, carmine, shimmering emerald. Colors infused with actual magic, pressed into the pages of handcrafted spellbooks.

Potions were a secondary concern, but in either case, he understands the importance of a properly handled plant. Gathering itself wasn't the problem. The problem is that Adrasteius remains hilariously frail of constitution, and he simply doesn't have the stamina to carry back what he's digging up.

He realizes this as he sits among a particular patch of herbs, his hair already damp with sweat from digging, his hands dark with soil. ]

Damn it. I'm going to have to start lifting things while standing in place like an idiot.

[ He paws at the soil, agitated. ]

Eating protein. Running.

[ Life is terrible. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

One should always think about the meanings behind what they're being told and why... but at this age, don't teachers only mean to instill good habits? You shouldn't question things like "it's good to eat your vegetables" or "please brush your teeth regularly."

I'm not asking them to question basic life skills. I'm telling them that authority figures aren't necessarily always correct simply because they wield authority.

But how are they to learn which is which? At their age, aren't all of the things they're learning, 'basic life skills'?

You did say to question everything, didn't you?

I sure did, and you're doing just a great job.

[ Is he annoyed? He almost always sounds a little annoyed, truth be told, but there's no real bite in his response. ]

Lady, point is: you're never too young to start thinking independently. These kids are well past their swaddling days. They can handle a little bit of the advanced curriculum. Most kids can.

Thinking independently does not require mistrusting people! [If he is annoyed, she... does not pick it up.] We should be teaching these children how to build bonds of trust with others, that they might have more richer lives for it!

And my name is not 'Lady.' My name is Aigis.

Questioning what you're told doesn't mean you have no trust in others, Aigis.

[ He pronounces her name deliberately, his ears flicking back. ]

It means you don't accept things at face value. A rich life is an examined life, and these little ones are not too young to start. Especially since they've got some jack--

[ He pauses, and clears his throat. ]

Some charlatan trying to swindle them out of their parents' money.

[Well, that gets her attention. Her earlier quibble seems all but forgotten. She seems genuinely surprised.] --!

There's someone trying to cheat them out of their money? Who is it?!

Snake oil salesmen! Claiming they've got some special mana potion or other. Selling these kids false hopes, cruel fantasies. Swindling them--and their parents, by extension.

[ He folds his arms over his chest, his anger--and the color in his cheeks--rising. ]

But it's the kids they're targeting. Despicable!

[Aigis agrees that it's a problem, but she looks more perplexed, than anything.

She glances around, as if expecting to see them here at the school.] And are they... here?

They're not in the room, if that's what you're thinking. They're in town. Lurking around the markets, waiting for soft targets to show up.

[ He gestures to the kids. ]

Like these adorable moppets.

Oh. [She'd been about to start scanning for any threats. She seems to relax somewhat.] I see.

Do they really convince these children to purchase things? I can't imagine that children this age are given much spending money...

More precisely, they convince the kids, and the kids convince their parents. It's an insidious scam.

That would be very malicious indeed...

But surely, the parents have the wisdom that their children lack to recognize fakers, right?

If they did, I doubt the state would have called us in to discuss the topic, eh? Some people don't have the sense that nature gave a grape.

[Be careful with your metaphors, Adra.] But... a grape is not sentient. By definition, it has no sense at all.

[ What the heck. He waves her off. ]

It's a figure of speech! The point is, these people are falling for the con.

Oh, I see! [She says. Completely earnestly.] Then perhaps we should be talking to the parents instead! That would maximize our effectiveness.

It's the kids they're targeting--so it's the kids we have to deal with.

[ He shrugs. ]

Suits me fine. I like kids.

I can see that! You have a very good demeanor with them.

Do you have any children yourself?

[ She doesn't know it, but the very thought stabs him right in the heart. He swallows thickly, half-smiling. ]

Unfortunately, no.

[Her expression, however, flickers slightly, almost as if she does know.

She doesn't, of course. But her sensors can read a brief quickening in his pulse based on minute movement in the vein by his throat. She can see how he swallows. His cheeks warm slightly. He's being effected by strong emotion, one way or another.] I see. I'm sorry to hear that.

...would you like children, then?

[ That's a useful skill, Aigis!! ]

One day. I hope.

[ He has no prospects back home, and hasn't for quite some time. To him, it's a distant dream. A quiet yearning that he's not sure will ever be satisfied. But it remains. ]

And not just for myself. My people need to repopulate. We are thin on the ground as it stands.

[ But that's also part of the problem. ]

[Part of being a robot!!] Oh! Then... that must be very difficult, I'm sorry.

Perhaps this conversation isn't suited for the children, though.

Ah. Right.

[ They don't need to hear about the genocide. Fortunately, most of them are asleep by this point, anyway.

Still, he rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. ]

I forgot myself.

[ A common occurrence. ]

But it was nice to meet you, Aigis.

It was very nice to meet you as well, Adrasteius-san. [She tilts her head in a polite bow.]

Do we need to put them all to sleep, then? Is that part of our duty as well?

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