milliways_bar | (no subject)

It's a typical spring day in Manhattan, when the doors of the elevator open and Faith leads Arithon into the lobby and opens the door onto the pavement. It's pleasantly warm, somewhere in the mid-seventies, but the sun on the pavement and buildings makes it feel a few degrees more, and the press of bodies doesn't help either.

It's noisy, too - car horns blaring, drivers and pedestrians yelling vulgarities back and forth, sidewalk vendors hawking fake watches and bootleg DVDs, the constant sound of millions of shod feet hitting pavement.

Millions of people. Buildings so tall you can't see past them to the sky. Cars, buses, and the rumbling growl of the subway under their feet.

Fear, Master Bard. Fear.

He stops, dead, and stares.

New York, is more than a little overwhelming for someone who thinks that a couple thousand people is a gigantic city.

And there is no green, no growing.

"Ath..."

Faith steps confidently out onto the pavement, then stops and turns as she realizes Arithon isn't with her.

"...'s the matter?"

"Its..."

He waves a hand, the scars from being chained by primitive means helping to illustrate what he can't currently say, its alien, its strange, it is frightening,

"So large."

"Yeah, I know." Faith looks around, then turns back to him and gestures. "C'mon, then. Dress shops are all that way."

The first step is the hardest, but eventually he manages to trail along after Faith like a tourist.

No, he isn't palming a random shadow for comfort. Really.

The first intersection poses a bit of a challenge, too.

Faith smacking a taxi's hood and leaving a dent the diameter of a basketball makes an impression, no doubt.

Not so much to Arithon as the car. He always knew that the Slayers could tie him into as many knots as they felt inclined to. He does shrug at the cab driver and continue to trail along.

And at this point he's not going to let Faith get too far ahead of him because if he loses her he'll be stuck here...and that's a fate more frightening than death.

Faith will not let him get lost. She's very good about not losing people in the city.

Of course, Arithon is very small, and would be easy to misplace. Best he stays close, maybe.

He's staying close. Ath forfend he get lost.

He's also window shopping, and occasionally passing his hand over the place his belt-pouch usually hangs.

And if pick-pockets seem to stagger off with broken fingers, well, at least he didn't ward the wallet like he did the pouch.

Faith does a little window shopping herself - mostly the windows that involve cheesecake.

She's also unable to resist stopping and getting them each a hot dog. This should be...interesting.

Arithon looks at it in bemusement.

Please understand that he has had very limited contact with non-Paravian food.

"Jiask...dog?"

He's trying to be polite.

"Not really dog," Faith explains, between swallows of her own. "Not entirely sure it's really meat, though it claims to be pig."

"Ah."

He takes a bite...and while he can't say that its good, he's eaten worse. He grabs several extra napkins to clean his fingers with when he's done.

"Do you often eat such things?"

"Mm." Faith nods. "I often eat...uhm, anything I can, really."

"I shall order a meal from Dascon Elur for you at some point."

He looks up at her to give her a bright smile. It isn't a "planning something" smile, just a bright smile. He cleans his hands as well as possible before trying on clothing, and offers Faith napkins as well.

Faith takes the napkins, eyeing him a little warily.

"...OK."

"The food I grew up with."

Please remember that he was raised by the most powerful people on the splinter world of Dascon Elur, and trained to be a prince. He's not planning on doing anything nasty to her.

"OK," Faith says again, less reluctantly this time, and offers him her arm with a return smile.

After a brief moment (different culture, give him a second) he links his arm with her and allows her to lead him off into the concrete jungle.

Faith is merciful to Arithon. She doesn't take him into a department store.

She takes him to a proper tailor, a man who takes one look at Arithon, immediately knows the size of everything he wears down to the undergarments, and spirits him off to a back room go ~~grope~~ measure him for an exact fit.

~~This assumes that Arithon wears undergarments~~

By the time the tailor has taken Arithon's measure, Arithon has taken the shop's measure.

Has Faith ever seen him acting like a prince? Not one of those spoiled scions of nobility, but a real prince...the kind you can trust to give you every bit of credit you deserve, and then some, and only asks that you allow him to do everything he can for you?

He does it very well.

And then Faith has to make the call; the grey one (http://www.smokydiva.com/ebay/PICSfolder/DSCN2476E.jpg)? The modern one (http://www.cheaptux.com/images/img-tuxed7.jpg)? Or the old fashioned one (http://www.ys-masterchorale.net/images/tails.gif)?

Arithon is looking a little bemused at the whole thing, really.

Given the formality involved in going to an opera, Faith opts for the tie and tails, and if the tailor is left with the impression that Faith is Arithon's date for the event, well, she's not going to complicate things by correcting him.

Which comes to the next fun part of the outing.

Watching the tailor's eyes widen at the sight of all that cash, nicely worn bills, being carefully counted out by someone with limited understanding of American currency.

Funny how all of the confused looks at Arithon's scars stop when the money shows up, isn't it?

Faith pays very close attention - making sure Arithon doesn't overpay the tailor - and tries hard not to laugh at the tailor's reaction.

When the affair is concluded, with an appointment made to return for a final fitting and the offer of accompanying undergarments firmly but politely refused, Faith leads Arithon out of the shop with the air of one about to spring a lovely surprise. "There's something I wanna show you before we go."