30th of Zi’da, 716
Noon
Red flesh, soft to the touch, a fragrant aroma. Ripe, characterized by it’s slightly firm feeling when gently squeezed. No soft spots, and so no chance of incoming rot. Why this berry attracted Paplo so much he did not know, and yet the obsession had been growing within him as much as the tomatoes that grew around the world. Most vegetables and fruits had this effect, especially the latter. Each of them was a world of flavor, waiting to be discovered, to be mixed and mingled a thousand different ways to achieve different results. The pseudo-science of cooking was perhaps one of the few inner callings the Mortalborn held, yet never truly pursued for whatever psychological reason. Even if he ate people raw, he still dreamt of some proper cooking.Noon
Paplo opened his eyes, and witnessed how the tomato in his memory now became an old piece of bread. Breaking a part of it, and putting it in his mouth as a small snack, Paplo continued his stroll down the busy marketplace. There were no vegetables nor fruits waiting to delight the senses. Instead, one could only find grains, artisan goods, overpriced honey and cooked delights for those that could afford it. There were other sections on the market where one could find furniture, antiques, weapons, and grains, yet those were not what Paplo was after. Instead, perhaps somewhat morbidly, he lulled around the goods his stomach would appreciate but could not afford. Not one coin was held within his pocket, yet that would surely change on the following day – his first day as a teacher. The façade Kovic built around the character he played was growing, and soon the act would be backed by fact. It was a whole new step for his capacity to blend in.
Voices and cries rose through the busy market, be it of customers demanding further information about the goods calling for their attention, or those of stall owners advertising their merchandise with poetic verses, with catchy slogans or hypnotizing melodies that stuck within the mind. Like moths to the flames, the mortals gathered around, squeezed their way forth and bumped into each other in a primitive sort of way, as if instinct was pushing them to be first and the best. Paplo suffered many of these bumps, most of them being delivered by, ironically, the oldest individuals. Perhaps age had diminished their sense of politeness.
Whilst Paplo fantasized about devouring every last creature that roamed the plaza and all the goods it held, something called his attention in the street parallel to the shopping hub. It was a familiar sensation, one that screamed danger in warning, yet did so subtly and only for those that knew what had caused it.
It was the air of a killer.
Without being able to pinpoint from whence said aura came, Paplo took the chance to investigate. Normally, he would’ve avoided the conflict at any cost, yet considering the amount of witnesses that gathered around him, his death would be a huge risk for anyone save himself. Slowly, he began pushing through the crowd. The term pushing was somewhat extreme, of course, for Paplo was not a violent man, and instead of forcefully barging his way past the bodies of mortals, he slid through them like a breeze. Eyes fixed forth, at last they reached what he believed was the source of the anomaly.
Male, humanoid, increased height, average weight. Light blue skin tone, pale eye color, long black hairs. Neutral features, symmetrical, exotic, generally branded as attractive. No further details could be extracted from its frame, for the Eidisi biology and common traits were a mystery in the Mortalborn’s eyes. Donning black furs, and standing tall, the individual’s confidence could easily be seen, even when there was clear social rejection towards his species. Many eyes glanced towards him, for the Etzori populace was mostly formed by humans. As such, his capacity to fall out of the local codes of conduct were decreased, and given that his nature as a killer could be felt by a certain few, Paplo now only saw a blue chicken caught in a cage.
Whatever could be extracted from the preliminary analysis was there, and any further information or correction to said information required social contact with the individual. Certain that he possessed the upper hand, at least socially, Paplo decided to approach futher. His Ether Lure was quenched as much as possible, limiting the ether dispersed around him to mere motes, for he wished not to attract the Eidisi’s attention just yet. He would certainly make for a good kill, however.
Donned in his ill-fitted clothing, and displaying a kind smile underneath his beard, Paplo was aware that whatever act he played would be in vain, for he too was a killer. As such, he did not try too hard to win the heart of the heartless.
“Good day, stranger,” greeted Paplo, offering the loaf of bread towards the Eidisi, in hopes of establishing a sense of amicability for himself. “I must say, these furs you don are quite appealing to the eye. May I ask how much you paid to acquire them?”