maskormenacelogs | if it's on a table outside it's free

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if it's on a table outside it's free

WHO: Martin and the Shade
WHERE: Some cafe in Heropa
WHEN: Twilight hours, in June
WHAT: Kid this isn't Oliver Twist
WARNINGS: TBD

[the sun's not so bad when it gets closer to evening... it's like an early morning to Martin, who is used to barely stirring until it's very dark. but that was when he was in a place he knew well and was safe in. it's hard to sleep and wait out the sun in the house; even the noises of it settling are unsettling.

he's really hungry, too. having not quite conquered modern domestic dining, Martin's taken to wandering to look for food. whatever...passes for food. not a single potato in sight for blocks, and what greens sprouting out of the ground there are tend to be blocked by fences -- that's too dicey for him.

but bread left out on a table? it's outside, there's no fence. it's just there. that's...that's safe, isn't it? and there's a bunch of tables here - it's a cafe, kind of like the one he went to when Kitty called him over, but the lack of umbrellas makes it more difficult to compare. at this hour, it's near closing time, and with mercifully fewer people...

Martin lingers near a planted tree, staring at the table, weighing the risk and benefit. his stomach chimes in and the vote is pretty much over at that point. he hesitates only a moment more before reaching for the bread basket, barely sparing a second to glance about to search out disapproving faces.]

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[ Shade, of course, is more interested in his meal. Eating in the middle of twilight, enjoying the change in the sky, watching the dark take over -- it's fitting, actually. He's quite happy with it, even if he does continue to wear his sunglasses long after most people have taken theirs off.

He's in the middle of an expensive bowl of polenta, halfway through, with a modest glass of wine to the side when he notes the hand.

One table over, and he stopped, set down his spoon -- which had been midway to his mouth -- and turned to watch with curiosity. Was someone stealing bread? Of all the food to eat, he wouldn't expect it to be the bread, especially here. He spoke up, a touch lazily. There was only one other couple outside, and they were too busy focusing on each other to even notice anyone else. ]

You know, I think stealing just the bread here is actually sad.

Ah-- [the bread heel drops back into the basket and Martin's hand snaps back in an instant, straightening up and whipping his head around to the voice. in a blink, he starts to recoil, stepping backward from the table as the fright is accompanied by embarrassment.

he stammers:] I! I-I, I wasn-- I, I'm sorry! I thought-- [his hands curl to fists and go behind his back while he continues fumbling, trying to rattle out an explanation to the ground in front of the speaker.] I just thought it was-- it was just out, and...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know.

Whoa --

[ Shade waved a hand, dismissive, and leaned back in his seat. ]

The real crime is ignoring the rest of the food around here. Have you not eaten today?

[ Was the boy poor? Shade had to wonder. Then again, he knew that face and that voice, and he'd hardly been together to begin with, had he? ]

Come on, sit, sit. I won't be calling the police on you. I've stolen worse things than bread.

[that he hasn't been yelled off or threatened is what surprises him, and he's still bracing for it even as he's invited over. i've stolen worse is what gets him lifting his head, blinking.

now, with the face and the voice, there's...something... but he doesn't know. Martin's still wound up, and now confused to boot. did-- did he say sit? why isn't he mad?

in that beat of staring and not getting in trouble somehow, he realizes with a bit of a start:] I...I-I know you? Or, I... [he flickers a glance away, catching glimpse of a server going to check on the couple. he doesn't want to stand there and get probed by someone else, so that's more than enough encouragement to move over and at least linger behind the empty seat at Shade's table.

he slowly pries his eyes away from over his shoulder to gawk back at him, fingers curling on the back of the chair. again:] I know you, right? I...I think...

We spoke, once.

[ He offered, and lifted his drink of wine to his lips to take another sip. He eyed the server, and then back to the boy. ]

We're both imports, you know. Now why don't you sit down before I do call the waitstaff?

[ Not that Shade would actually call them over or actually report the boy to them, but the threat was likely to get him to at least sit so there was at least that. It wasn't much, but the child needed to calm down already. ]

Uh! Oh-- [he doesn't need telling a third time. Martin's grip twitches before letting go and climbing into the seat as told, fidgeting to sit back and upright properly, feet dangling off the ground.

once situated, his hands sit on his knees and his eyes fix on the Shade, wide and unblinking, expectant. this is the immortal guy, he remembers; there's some spooky authority tied to that...the kind of thing you don't talk back to or try to make angry. like Grandfather, except...uh...well, maybe just like that; Martin doesn't know how old he is.]

[ Shade nodded simply, and went back to eating. Really, the food looked half-disgusting, a puree of foods, but he sipped at it like it was just as sublime as his wine. He looked down at the food, and then back at Marty. ]

Would you like something to eat? Real food? I can promise, it's divine.

[ When an immortal link to the shadowlands and the great darkness called something divine, it likely was. ]

[from the way Marty watches, it may as well be. he gulps.

it takes a second to realize he's being offered anything, and that surprises him.]

Uh-- is that...alright? [the bread thing was a bad turn, so...] If I'm supposed to, uh, uh do something...

Well I didn't ask you to sit just because, you know.

Go ahead, order something. I'll pay.

[ He waved a hand, like it wasn't a concern. Shade didn't really need creature comforts, was the thing. He didn't need to sleep, eat, or drink, so he did so only because he liked it. He may barely do anything at work -- being a librarian, but it was something. ]

You look like you're starving.

[he ducks his head just as his face starts to flush.] Than-thank you, uh. [looking back up, fidgeting.] I was just going to have the bread, that's...that's fine. If that's alright.

Nonsense!

[ He pulled a menu out from seemingly nowhere, and held it out to him. ]

The bread is a day old by now, and all they do is warm it in the kitchen after it's been delivered. Fine, but it's hardly good.

Please, pick something, eat! You look half-starved and jumpy.

[Martin has to blink a few times, caught by surprise by the menu's sudden appearance. he had to have not seen it right away, because it was almost like it appeared out of thin air.

he shakes his head a little of the worry, taking it and slowly looking down. he starts to look more uneasy, flickering glances between little pictures and tons of scrawled shapes.]

I...I don't... [his eyes wince, hesitating to at least look down the rest of the page.] There's...letters. Words. I can't read, I don't know how...So I don't know what's best...

You can't read?

[ He blinked, and held a hand to his chest. He was...shocked, actually. More than shocked. Not offended, but concerned for him. Shade thought everyone should have the ability to read, but... well, he understood that not everyone had the opportunities that he had. This was something that would need to be fixed, obviously. ]

Well then, what do you like to eat?

[he knows he's not a smart kid, but he's never felt stupider than he does in this place. reading doesn't matter to Darkovs, but it's practically everything around people, apparently. his face heats up the second Shade remarks, and he can only glance up for a second more at the look on his face before he glances back down, ashamed.

he licks his lips, his mouth twitching in a frown.]

Uhm, well... Well, deer is fine. Or just...potatoes. [he starts slowly listing off the things he's eaten before:] Beets. Carrots. Rabbit. Pheasant. Walnut. Um...

[ He made a face. ]

Have you ever had lasagna?

[ It sounded like it was best to start small, but perhaps he would need to expand the child's pallet. Or rather, Shade was starting to think he should just expand many people's pallets here. So many hadn't had the opportunity to really eat, and enjoy. ]

[he looks up, blinking, staring blankly for a second while he thinks on the word.]

Uh...I...I don't know. What is it?

Pasta, sauce, meat, cheese --

To put it simply. Have you ever had a layer cake?

[ He almost wanted to hold his breath. Please tell him he'd had a layer cake before. ]

[he got officially fifty percent of that list before Shade's changing gears and making him drop that entirely to think hard on this new thing.

again, another struggle to think, coming up empty with a little shake of his head. small:] I don't know...

Well then, we'll try it and see. It was a loose analogy anyway. If you don't like it, we can see about getting you something else.

[ He waved a waiter over, placed an order -- and for more wine -- and then focused back on the child. ]

Now, what brings you out here? From the way you sounded, you are something of a shut in.

[the waiter is spared just the barest of glances before Martin's eyes drop on the table, and even when the menu is gently tugged out of his fingers, he mumbles an apology and keeps his head down, feeling a bit queasy with embarrassment on top of the hunger.

he only lifts his head when Shade prompts him again. it takes a second to get 'shut-in' properly.] O-oh, uh... Um. I've only been outside two... [no--] Three times. [...no:] Four, now. Because of all this.

Oh.

[ There's a pause. ]

That's not very many. Is there a reason for that? Never going out? Does it have to do with what you are?

[he fidgets, looking back down at the table.] You-- Darkovs, they. We only go out when we have to... I, uh. [swallow.] I messed up, when I went out to hunt, so I...I didn't go out after that.

I see -- so it seems like you need to get used to it, now that you're here, yes?

[ He sniffed, and sipped at his wine, like he couldn't believe it. ]

That sounds... rather miserable, actually. Never seeing a night like this?

It's not-- uhh... It's. It's not that- [he bites off on that; this is going to be another round-and-round of the same thing from a dozen times before. the i can't be here and the too bad you're here thing.

he lets out a small puff of breath, letting one of his hands set on the table, fingers curling on the edge of it.]

It doesn't really matter how it is...it's for people. Not--not me. And I know I'm stuck, but that doesn't mean it's good to be here anyway... Even if- if it was alright to be around people, I'm... [he grimaces, his voice a little tight.] I'm not smart. I don't understand anything. And it makes people angry...

[and, he thinks, just shy of saying it, i think something broke me. that whole attacking-a-terrified-man thing... but he's too guilty to shove that one in.]

Mm --

[ He swirled his glass, and looked down at the wine, considering. The boy understood he was stuck, obviously, but that wasn't the problem right now. The problem, of course, was that he simply didn't know, wasn't it? He didn't know life -- and it seemed as if someone had made him think that was alright.

He shook his head. ]

Do you want to learn? How to be -- or pass for normal? You do understand that many of us are no more unusual than you, yes?

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