Open Chronicles “I think he’s broken. Like, in the sense a wagon wheel may be. He ain’t depressed or nothin’, just somewhat of a freak.” - Anonymous

[suneater]

Amol-Kalit. Home. A place he rarely frequented these days. Be it that The Empire took most of his work from him, or that his title of ‘folk hero’ was even more divisive here, it wasn’t a place he felt all that welcome anymore.

This was fine. He did not need or crave acceptance. It would be easier if most did not accept him. Right now the rumors seemed to be fifty-fifty on that front. But it was his home. Ragash was his home. Where his late mother had raised him and taught him the morality he now followed. So, glaring eyes or not, he walked through the bazaars like he’d never left.

He was in search of something. Nothing he couldn’t find elsewhere, but found it a good time to do it since he had felt like visiting anyways.

Apples. Likely imported, but no matter. He needed them.

Because this murderous hero was going to start making his own apple juice. He’d set up shop here in Amol Kalit until a job passed him by, but gods did he love the stuff. Getting sugar would be a harder deed. Apples should be abundant if he went to the right market.

So here walked suneater, the World Serpent, The Black Market Hag, The Oni of Amol-Kalit, hunting for nothing more than a cool glass of apple juice.

 

[Rahma]

Investigating wasn't exactly Rahma's strong suit when it came to the work he had to do as a Granite Hand. He was more the "hit first, ask questions later" type. Maybe that's why he got assigned to this; equal parts needing to learn how to ask questions, and knowing how to hit if those questions didn't yield satisfactory answers. After all, Rahma had been tasked with seeking out some local folk hero, or something like that.

"Suneater," they called him. Sameera, Medja's secretary, had assured him the title was purposefully left uncapitalized. Rahma had pointed out that that went contrary to what he'd been learning in his reading lessons. Sameera had stated very flatly that language was very often full of contradictions. Rahma had given her a "fair enough" and a shrug before the Sapphire Hand scolded him for getting off topic.

Regardless, it wasn't like the guy was hard to find. A look that distinct in a place like Ragash was hard to miss, and the suneater wasn't exactly trying to cover his tracks. The demi-jackal had been observing the armored figure that was his quarry for some time now, casing him as he meandered through the markets of the glistening city of bronze. He was...shopping for produce. Thrilling.

Rahma sighed, upper ears twitching. He really wasn't sure why Medja had taken an interest in this one, but orders were orders. "Observe until you're certain you can make a move." Right. Whatever that meant. Couldn't he just take the direct route and confront him? Maybe Rahma was supposed to wait until something of consequence happened. Yeah...that must be it...

 

[suneater]

With purpose he strode through the areas of the market that sold produce and other foodstuffs. Many eyes met his person as he continued his journey into creating his own beverage. Well, not his own. Maybe his own take. He should pick up some spices as well!

suneater was a ferocious warrior. To the levels of demons. This may be an interesting fact to anyone who knows just how utterly unaware the man is. If he were truly an assasssin of some sort, he could probably discover that his footprints were being tread upon. It is unfortunate to admit that while suneater is a many things, he isn’t the brightest.

Hence why he’ll need someone to explain to him about creating juice. How is it done? How is it POSSIBLE? It was nectar of the gods to this walking graveyard of personal treasures. When he finally reached a stall holding the apples he so craved, he spoke to the man.

“sir, is it possible to make juice from these apples?”

The shopkeeper looked befuddled.

“I am unsure as to what you mean.”

“you know, apple juice. the drink that comes from these apples. are they right type of apple?”

While the bald headed produce merchant would be more than happy to make a sale to whoever this cartoon of a person was, he did not have the answers to this question.

“I’m sorry friend, I do not know.”

A simple sigh from the World Serpent to express his disappointment before examining the apples closer. Maybe if he just looked REALLY REALLY hard he could see what they had to offer. He even turned around to look at it in the bludgeoning sunlight, and unbeknownst to him, he was looking directly in Rahma’s direction.

Rahma

 

[Rahma]

Ears like radar dishes absorbed the brief conversation as Rahma's quarry wandered the market.

...The guy was just shopping. And asking about juice. If the so-called "suneater" was meant to be some enigmatic, intimidating force, Rahma certainly wasn't seeing it right now. This was a man currently suffering the effects of a heat stroke while buried in all that armor under the extreme heat of the desert sun. He didn't even realize that lemonade would be much more refreshing than apple juice in this scenario. Quite the conundrum.

Then the mountain of weapons and armor turned and looked at Rahma. Shit. Well, he supposed he did tend to stand out in a crowd. White hair and jackal ears weren't exactly the norm for folks in Ragash. Or, you know, anywhere, so far as Rahma knew. Maybe he should have bothered to wear a hood.

In any case, this probably qualified as "something of consequence." Rahma figured he might as well approach if he'd been spotted. The once-urchin was pretty adept at moving through crowds by now, so getting to the suneater didn't take all that long.

"Oi, weird guy." Rahma addressed the stranger. He was trying the friendly approach today and felt he was off to a great start. "If you're just lookin' for juice you'd probably have better luck with fruit that actually grows around here, ya know?"

 

[suneater]

He’d still been examining an apple when Rahma approached him. A curious sentiment from someone he’d not even seen until this moment. suneater did a quick double take around the area.

“my, you must be quite stealthy. i didn’t even see you!”

Which, of course, made zero sense. Anyone worth their salt would be aware of the man-jackal once they’d looked his way. suneater was a special breed of impaired, yet remained a terror on the lips of many denizens of Arethil.

“i do see your point.” He spoke softly as he twirled the apple around, the bald shopkeep visibly sweating behind him.

“but the juice made from apples has become a personal favorite. do you have any recommendations?”

Besides his dress and perhaps the fact that Medja may know him by name, there seemed to be no indication of suneater being a threat or even a force to be reckoned with, for that matter.

His aura did still exist, though he was not actively making it weigh any more than it would naturally.

Rahma

 

[Rahma]

The suneater was, in fact, disarmingly benign for someone supposedly so dangerous. If it weren't for the fact that he looked like a walking armory, Rahma might've guessed that he was just some random foreigner. The unwitting-letai eyed the merchant behind suneater for a moment before producing and flicking him a coin, one worth more than the value of the single fruit, before addressing the odd quail in front of him.

"Uhhh...let's see," Rahma pondered aloud, spinning to scan thoughtfully over the various stalls nearby. "No, figs don't really 'juice.' Hmm. Oh! That'll do."

The demi-jackal moved to another nearby cart and gingerly snatched up a trio of pink, oblong fruits with near-white, raised spots on them where he knew there had once been clusters of spines. He silently thanked the merchant for having already removed the damned things before tossing another coin at the saleswoman. Each one was no more than half the size of the apple suneater had gathered, but if memory served they were plenty juicy all the same.

"Prickly pears. De-prickled, for your convenience. They taste like candy!" Rahma announced, offering the things to the armored figure before him. He couldn't help but wonder if the man removed the gear to eat, or if the reason he needed juice so badly was because he could only take in nourishment through the helmet. The thought made him grin.

 

[suneater]

suneater did indulge the stranger a moment. He was being pleasant enough. He watched as the jackal-being paid for his fruit and displayed him his own options.

The pears did look delectable. It would be a good option. He’d never had pear juice before and couldn’t even picture the outcome. The stranger clearly knew something that he didn’t! It was fun to learn!

There was something else he wanted to learn while they were here.

He took one of the pears and examined it, humming to himself in amusement at the menial conversation. Bobbing his head to and fro just slightly, he handed Rahma the fruit back.

“i hadn’t considered this possibility. i appreciate that you would share your ideas with me. i just can’t help but wonder…”

His tone changed. It wasn’t aggressive. More so playfully inquisitive.

“you heard me and the vendor’s entire conversation, no? you wouldn’t happen to be, i mean, it’s so silly...”

suneater laughed.

“Be following me, would you?”

The final words escaped him in an almost reptilian manner. His veiled face stared straight into Rahma’s eyes as he extended the pear back into the bundle that the jackal carried. He did not move. He clearly wanted an answer.