milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

teja,
yrael

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Teja had had some doubts about the commission from that man Le Chiffre; but he has found a way of dealing with it.

He goes to the public notice board and affixes a note:

Beside it, on a large horseshoe nail, he hangs the dog-collar in question; a soft black leather collar, patterned with small silver studs three-bladed and steep like the trilobate arrow-heads of the fierce Alani that, in Teja's time, settled by the shore of the Atlantic ocean after storming the old Roman Empire alongside the Huns. If any wild creature tries to get its jaws round the neck of a dog wearing that, it is in for a surprise; doubly so if it is a wolfman.

That way, he fulfils his commission in plain sight, with both the wolfmen and the watchmen (and women!) able to see what it was that Le Chiffre ordered, yet not breaking his promise to make it.

The knife Doc Scurlock ordered, finished as well now, he simply leaves with the bar, to be handed to the man when he next orders something.

That done, he orders a mug of tea fro the bar and settles by the fireplace with it, wondering what to make next.

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Aww. Cute hat, Teja.

Mrraow.

"Greetings, Yrael!" Teja says, reaching up to touch the white cat on his head.

Hat is warm! And purring!

"Greetings, Teja," he says, leaning over to smile upside down at him.

Some days, Yrael feels very... Cheshire.

Cats. Even not!cats. They do that. Teja would not protest, as long as no claws touch his face.

"As a cat, one has much latitude," he says, musing.

No claws! Teja is a friend!

"And we have good balance," he says, upside-down.

He may beep Teja's nose.

Because he can.

Cats.

Cats indeed.

"Are you comfortable, Yrael?" Teja asks. "I am."

"Indeed, I am," he mwrrs, chuckling. A white tailtip brushes Teja's ear.

"I was just wondering if you would like to see what it's like to be a cat, for a day."

"Today would be as good a day as any," Teja says. "I have no duel to fight, not appointment with" - Tonio - "the eunuch for sparring, no commissions. Yes; we can do it today."

"Prrrrrfect," he says, leaping lightly down onto the armrest of the chair.

"I made the Charter Skin earlier, so just let me go fetch it."

"Should we not do it somewhere that none would see us?" Teja asks. "If I shift shape in plain sight, then all would know it was me?"

"Follow, then," Yrael drops down to the floor and pads away towards the door to the Staff Wing.

Teja gets up and follows, fast.

This will be interesting.-

Yrael shifts forms as he goes through the door to the hallway.

He heads towards the first corner in the hallway, where a small cardboard box sits. It's lined with some light blue cloth, a Greek chiton, actually, a gift from Kassandra. In one corner of the box is a green scarf, a gift from Mia. Tilted upon one of the corners of the box is the white fedora Yrael sometimes wears, a gift from Bar, the amber and white gold violin-shaped pin from Svava upon its band.

Little knick-knacks surround the box: a small figure of a cat in carved alabaster and emerald, another gift; a red and orange saucer of Venetian glass, a gift from Tom and Door; a crystal shaped like a snowflake, a gift from Moiraine; a silver necklace pendant shaped like a cat curled around an emerald, another gift. Beside the box is an upright steamer trunk, partially open: a gift from Mina. Within it can be seen the few clothes Yrael owns, all gifts from others, folded neatly, as well as his violin case and a stack of books.

They are Yrael's worldly possessions, all under a handmade wreath of autumn leaves and dried flowers that hangs on the wall. Made by Svava.

Yrael heads for the steamer trunk, opening it and searching around inside.

Edited 2008-01-21 20:02 (UTC)

Teja looks at it all, but doesn't stare -- he doesn't know what all these things mean. "Have you no room of your own?" he asks.

"I do. Svava gave me her old room when she married Archie," he says.

"I use it as storage. Mainly for my books," and he finds what he is looking for, pulling it out. "It is not home."

In his hands is a shifting, liquidy cloth made of tiny Charter Marks, shimmering and glowing a faint gold.

"What do I do with it?" Teja asks, curious and spellbound at once.

It looks very magical!

"You wear it," he replies.

It looks to be about the size of a cat.

"It'll stretch to fit." Yrael holds it out. "Foot first."

Teja pushes his foot in first, feeling it would only fit his toe.

"How do I tell when it stops working?" he asks, trying to ignore the oddity of the feeling that his foot shrinks as the sock stretches.

And then, suddenly, it fits, and he looks up at Yrael, still in question.

"It will start fraying after about half a day," Yrael says, kneeling down and grinning. "You'll be able to tell."

"And then I hide until I am a man again?" Teja asks, finding he can still speak.

Or maybe he cannot, but trusts that Yrael understands him regardless.

"If you want," Yrael shrugs. "Once it starts fraying, you should be able to pull at it until it unravels."

After a moment of silent deliberation, there are scritches. They're cute ears!

And cat-shape dictates that Teja turns his head and purrs.

This feels fine. At least as fine as a hot bath does for human-shape.

At the moment, the idea of a hot bath is less than appealing.

"One of the important things to remember is that, while cats have a lot of freedoms that humans don't, humans take liberties with cats that they cannot with other humans. Especially when it comes to touch."

Yrael wants to see Teja get a tummyrub.

Just because.

"I know; I did with you, when we first met," Teja says, turning his head because he felt his jaw needed attention also.

Yrael is good at scritching. Having been on the receiving end of many a scritch, he knows what feels good.

"Just making sure," he grins, rubbing his knuckles along Teja's jaw.

"I will not bite anyone for petting me," Teja promises.

"It's always a good policy," he says. "They tend to stop scritching if you do that."

"Have fun."

"Thank you!" Teja says, and turns to walk away, back to the bar.

Sometime before all the singing, dancing, and musical numbers, Doc stops by the Bar to check for notes and ask for some paper to make some self notes for the stables on and is pleased when the wrapped knife appears on the bartop.

It's light -- but not too light -- and the edge is razor sharp and true. He looks it over for a minute before he asks bar for a pen and leaves a note in response.

Teja,

Thank you for the knife. It is perfect!

I may stop into the forge sometime this week to speak to you about horseshoes, depending on how badly my mount needs them. I have paid your tab with the bar for the knife.

-Doc

He sets both note and several coins on the bartop, enough for the price one would pay from his time for a well crafted knife, and a drink, as tip.

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