OPEN: get in the car we're going shopping

[initiatesnpc]

Date & Time: 8/21-8/23 daytime
Location: Outside a civilian residential apt building
Characters: BIG SPENDERS or anyone really just tag your butts in and go to town
Summary: Yard saaaale. In the street. Because what is a yard in the future.
Warnings: Blood spilled over ShamWow??


What had begun as the idea of two became the realization of at least seven — all landlord approved and with nods of approval from neighboring apartment buildings. It didn't even take up a full block, but it was full enough to attract attention of passers-by on the morning hustle to work, saddling them up with something worth spreading to others along the grapevine throughout the day.

Mostly clothes and household items easily given up, but here and there a few gems. A would-be Initiative member had no need for old board games or a guitar or two, and there would be no time to take care of a pet, even one so curious and darling as Blinky. Now and then, its soon-to-be-ex-owner cast a sorrowful glance its way, only to get a slow, out-of-synch blink in response.

Oh, Blinky.

Parting woes aside, business wasn't bad! With the shabby state of affairs in Exsilium, the chance for something new, even a hand-me-down, always sparked interest. And with so many strange, new recruits, there was bound to be someone curious enough to drop down the cash for the most absorbent fabric ever made (those Germans made good stuff)...

And so, after the work buses left the area, the tables went up and the wares were put out until the workday would come to a close and force the tables out of the street. Someone was bound to score something worthwhile in that time over those three days...!


REFERENCE: Stuff for sale

Comments

[implying]

Ah. [ He shifts, a little awkwardly. ] I'm beginning to see why that's a bit of a sore subject. My apologies— would you prefer I avoid it, in the future?

[deadelfwalking]

[shakes his head.] Do not concern yourself. I have been this way for quite some time, long enough to understand that inquiries are unavoidable. [he is personally wondering about the mask, but it's really not that unusual to see folks going around in full armor on Azeroth.]

[implying]

[ Well, if he's not barring the subject from discussion, then Vanadi will just go ahead and consider it fair game. He leans in, interested. ]

For how long, exactly? And how did you avoid being simply a plain old corpse?

[deadelfwalking]

Over a decade by this point. [he shuts one eye at the 'plain old corpse' comment.] I was killed, and then purposefully reanimated. Not for a good cause.

[implying]

I see. [ And it occurs to him, for the very first time, that maybe he ought to be unnerved by a dead guy brought back for nefarious purposes. Not that he reacts to the thought past having it, of course. ] I don't suppose you're here to kill everyone, are you? That would be a touch awkward.

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira's expression pretty much IMMEDIATELY SOURS. Fuck his unlife. Gritting his teeth.] No, I am not. I'm here to fight a war, presumably, but all we have done so far is waste time.

[implying]

Only checking! [ Both hands raised with that, peaceably. Note to self: don't accuse this guy of villainy. ] How else am I to take that you were brought back for a bad cause?

[deadelfwalking]

[he's just a little sensitive, given the past ... entire time he's been here ... Koltira sighs.]

Again, apologies. I have had a difficult time adjusting to this place.

[discreetly scratching behind his ear.]

Necromancy is rarely for a good cause, at any rate, but it is particularly insidious on my world. All undead are initially controlled by the Lich King--and his designs are the darkest imaginable. But I freed myself of him some time ago.

[implying]

Well, congratulations on that!

[ and man oh man can he empathize. ;~; Not that he'll be mentioning, of course, but his heart definitely goes out to Koltira on that one. ]

Before you arrived here, I take it?

[deadelfwalking]

Far before. The entity that enslaved myself and many others is gone from my world now. I and many others mounted a long, bitter campaign against him ... but we had our revenge in the end. [granted, there's another guy in his place, and Koltira still has some definite enslavement problems waiting for him back home, but ...]

[implying]

Ah, I'm glad. [ LUCKY ELF. He's never considered revenge a possibility. ] That ought to make for a much more pleasant return home, should you get around to it.

[deadelfwalking]

[shakes his head.] No. A cruel fate awaits me, should I ever be sent back. [he pauses, though, because all of this DISCUSSING HIMSELF is making him uncomfortable.] This seems a rather lopsided exchange.

[implying]

[ Oh, double awks. For the first: ] Ah, then I'm... sorry to hear it.

[ Then he pulls a smile, made apologetic by the guilty slump to his shoulders. ]

Not for no reason, I assure you! My own world wasn't very interesting.

[deadelfwalking]

[he shrugs off the apology; moves on.] No? The style of your armor suggests differently to me.

[implying]

Oh, it's no armor. [ The hesitating air disappears back into comfortable. ] Only fashion! Anyone worth noticing in Aluthsa has a mask.

[ And the best part is that no one here can prove him wrong. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[true enough, but it strikes Koltira as pretty strange, anyway.]>/small> Is that so. I wonder how such a trend comes to be.

[implying]

It's because we're simply too beautiful to be viewed by lesser races, without inspiring fits of violent jealousy. [ The grin slowly widens with that, and he gives Koltira's arm a little nudge with his elbow. ] Or so we tell them.

sighs at the html in my last tag

[deadelfwalking]

[he does laugh, but mainly because gosh, that is such a blood elf thing to say.] Your people are much like my own kin, then, though I fear they hold that opinion with much less humor.

yeah uh i don't think we can be friends anymore

[implying]

[ Oh look he got a laugh from the serious dead guy! He likes that. ]

Well, I hold it with some humor [ and some melodrama ] but I can't speak for the rest of us.

oh ok ._. /slinks off

[deadelfwalking]

[sadly, the solemnity returns in short order.] That is good to hear. My people have fallen into vapid, arrogant decadence, and I should not like to see them emulated too closely.

no wait come back :c

[implying]

[ Oh. Well. He's certainly been called that a few times. ]

Ah, well, never you fear. I haven't been home in a while, but I'm sure they're doing quite well back there.

[deadelfwalking]

I should hope so. Great trauma pushed my race into its current corruption, trauma I would not wish on any nation. They are rising out of it, but slowly ... [looking at Vanadi carefully. Really wondering what's going on under the mask.] Not every wound is healed by time, after all.

[implying]

[ That close look is just a liiiiittle uncomfortable. It's easier if people outright ask him to take off his mask, because then he can playfully refuse and that's the end of it. It's the ones that don't that make it harder. But he smiles anyway, tone carefully bright. ]

Not every wound, but most. We Kitrites have seen our share of wars and misfortune, and we're doing quite well so far, I would say!

[deadelfwalking]

[turning his attention back to the tables, he picks up a pair of garishly-colored gloves and turns them over in his hands, looking bemused. He just doesn't understand future fashion. He barely understood the fashion in the City. Softly:] I am glad to hear it.

[implying]

[ hey man, he isn't done with you. He slides on over to stand next to him, one elbow nudging at his side as he looks up. (Entirely unbothered by the cold, since it's the left elbow.) ]

Tell me, does a dead man drink?