milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Polishing service
Shoes: Five new pence per pair
Cutlery or silverwear: Two new pence per item
Other: Price negotiable according to size
Extra penny charge for sharp things.

Will also try and repair things (1970s or before)

For service, knock on table.

Wellington is still trying to find ways to pay off his tab, preferably without being seen.

He's not had any customers yet, so he's hiding under the table wondering how to advertise. Or expand his potential trades.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You eat soles? No wonder people get cross, I mean, we only take their shoes if they abandon them."

"Not soles. Souls. Spirits. Minds and essences of people, and no, I don't." The smile is gone; Ravin is back to her neutral, indifferent self.

"Oh. Do you need to eat them?"

"No. I do not eat them at all." A small shrug, and she lounges on the table again.

"Oh. Sorry Ravin, I didn't mean to sound judgemental. It's just easier to know the truth when there's things you don't understand."

He finishes the first knife and hands it back.

"Why don't you just tell them you're not a spirivore?"

"Because I am not. I eat normal things. Mostly." Even uncooked, its 'normal' eating. "And they would not listen. They see a pale girl with red eyes, cry 'demon', and attack, or run to call the guards to come after me."

"That's awful." Wellington looks up with sympathy.

"Have you tried sunglasses?"

"Nobody wears those back home. It would just make people suspicious." Damn medieval high fantasy clichè world.

"...a very big hat?"

That makes her pause and ponder. "That might work. Or a hood, a hood would go better with clothing back home." An idea to be worked out.

"There you go, where there's a will there's a way." Wellington says cheerfully.

"But it is worth the hassle? People will always think I am strange. Weird and wrong?" Another rare thing, a yawn. She is relaxing, and when she relaxes, acts more human.

"You think you look strange?" He holds up his big fluffy paws.

"You look normal for a womble, I guess. I look close enough to human for humans to notice the differences. People look at you and see you are not human. People look at me, expect me to be human, or assume I am a monster trying to look human. Anyway, they get weirded out."

He reaches out and squeezes her hand.

"All humans look different. And smell different."

"But I am not human." Anyway, she lightly squeezes his paw.

"But it was humans you wanted to look like, wasn't it?"

"No, I just want humans to stop hassling me for not being human, even if I look close to one."

"Sorry, I'm not being very helpful am I?"

"Do not worry. Things are just a big mess." A small sigh.

"Would you like some acorn broth? That always makes me feel better."

"No. I can not eat normal food." A shake of head. "Should I pay you directly, or to your bar tab?"

But she is not making a move to leave yet.

"Tab please." Wellington says, concentrating on the next knife.

His mun apologises, the tag got unstarred by mistake.

And ravin wathces him work, curiously. Almost human curiousity.

He works hard, keeping his keen though bespectacled eyes focused on the task in hand.