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Tag: Dosan
Current Theme: Know My Name by Sara Diamond
Tag: Dosan
Current Theme: Know My Name by Sara Diamond
Zarik wasn’t sure how to handle the strange compliment, nor the wink. His blush only worsened. He pulled at his facemask as if in hope to cover his heated cheeks from sight. He didn’t respond though, not to that. He, instead, asked about who Dosan worked for and whether it was the merchant – it wasn’t though, but he didn’t get a name either. Whatever higher on the food chain meant… it could mean crime or it could mean otherwise.
He let his curiosity fade then. While part of him wanted to know, the other part of him knew that when a Lair dweller wanted to keep a secret, they did so at any cost. So Zarik turned his attention to yet another subject and asked about Vahanic. He winced at the suggestion and caught sight of the concerned look followed by a quiet chuckle after some Vahanic speak.
It wasn’t that Zarik hadn’t tried to learn the language in his few years within Quacia. Him and his father were already almost proper citizens, by his birthdate this arc. He said, “I try… to learn the language, but I am poor at conversing in it and I don’t have the time to study.”
Time, after all, was one of Zarik’s most valuable and strained resources. How he spent the breaks of the day were what decided everything else in his life, and the bulk of those breaks were spent for his father and the torturer’s business. He rarely had time for himself, and when he did, it was spent climbing to rooftops, watching the sun rise or set, or even maybe reading something though any practice for anything always proved limited. If he tried to study in the house, his father almost always interrupted to have him study something that pertained to the business instead. All in all, Zarik’s time was not his own and his father hadn’t decided that Vahanic was a necessity to learn: for if people wanted to do business with Zalazar, it helped to have the language disconnect between Vahanic and common to take better advantage over what clients agreed to within the contracts.
The biqaj listened to the barrage of questions that followed. He kept walking, though. Zarik moved his eyes toward the street that he knew led out of Lair and toward Shanty. He said, “Simple. There should be no trouble. I told you, I can take care of myself.”
Zarik hesitated. He fidgeted with the package, then he glanced around and shrugged, “Followed? Not anymore than usual. And…”
“There is no payment,” he replied honestly. “Not in a monetary sense, at least. You don’t have to… uhm… help me, Sir Saito. I ah-appreciate it, but…”
They reached the border street. Zarik paused in his walk. He turned toward the other man. The blond held the package in front of him, cradled in both arms. Zarik fidgeted with the covering. “Th-thank you, sir. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t helped with the translation… i-if you need something, or… I… if you require assistance of a- I…”
He usually offered furthering contact with people who proved interesting and useful, but in Lair it was a different story. He had to be more careful, so he couldn’t share exact details. Still, he felt a desire to offer a point of contact with Saito. Intuitively, he felt as if it might be a good thing to have as the man struck him as being highly networked. So, he offered a momentary glimpse of trust and said, “I often visit the Ladybird Parlor in The Gleam. If I’m not there, you can leave a message with the bartender. I am capable of more th-than couriering and… if you would be willing to teach me Vahanic, perhaps I can repay you somehow?”
The blush returned to Zarik’s face. He took a few steps away, held up a hand to wave farewell, and said, “I’ll go on alone now. Thank you again, Sir Saito, a-and… m-my name is Zarik.” He turned on heel, then, and promptly sprinted down the street into Shanty. He focused on getting far away from Lair and felt dizzy for all that he’d shared with the tattooed dweller.
He let his curiosity fade then. While part of him wanted to know, the other part of him knew that when a Lair dweller wanted to keep a secret, they did so at any cost. So Zarik turned his attention to yet another subject and asked about Vahanic. He winced at the suggestion and caught sight of the concerned look followed by a quiet chuckle after some Vahanic speak.
It wasn’t that Zarik hadn’t tried to learn the language in his few years within Quacia. Him and his father were already almost proper citizens, by his birthdate this arc. He said, “I try… to learn the language, but I am poor at conversing in it and I don’t have the time to study.”
Time, after all, was one of Zarik’s most valuable and strained resources. How he spent the breaks of the day were what decided everything else in his life, and the bulk of those breaks were spent for his father and the torturer’s business. He rarely had time for himself, and when he did, it was spent climbing to rooftops, watching the sun rise or set, or even maybe reading something though any practice for anything always proved limited. If he tried to study in the house, his father almost always interrupted to have him study something that pertained to the business instead. All in all, Zarik’s time was not his own and his father hadn’t decided that Vahanic was a necessity to learn: for if people wanted to do business with Zalazar, it helped to have the language disconnect between Vahanic and common to take better advantage over what clients agreed to within the contracts.
The biqaj listened to the barrage of questions that followed. He kept walking, though. Zarik moved his eyes toward the street that he knew led out of Lair and toward Shanty. He said, “Simple. There should be no trouble. I told you, I can take care of myself.”
Zarik hesitated. He fidgeted with the package, then he glanced around and shrugged, “Followed? Not anymore than usual. And…”
“There is no payment,” he replied honestly. “Not in a monetary sense, at least. You don’t have to… uhm… help me, Sir Saito. I ah-appreciate it, but…”
They reached the border street. Zarik paused in his walk. He turned toward the other man. The blond held the package in front of him, cradled in both arms. Zarik fidgeted with the covering. “Th-thank you, sir. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t helped with the translation… i-if you need something, or… I… if you require assistance of a- I…”
He usually offered furthering contact with people who proved interesting and useful, but in Lair it was a different story. He had to be more careful, so he couldn’t share exact details. Still, he felt a desire to offer a point of contact with Saito. Intuitively, he felt as if it might be a good thing to have as the man struck him as being highly networked. So, he offered a momentary glimpse of trust and said, “I often visit the Ladybird Parlor in The Gleam. If I’m not there, you can leave a message with the bartender. I am capable of more th-than couriering and… if you would be willing to teach me Vahanic, perhaps I can repay you somehow?”
The blush returned to Zarik’s face. He took a few steps away, held up a hand to wave farewell, and said, “I’ll go on alone now. Thank you again, Sir Saito, a-and… m-my name is Zarik.” He turned on heel, then, and promptly sprinted down the street into Shanty. He focused on getting far away from Lair and felt dizzy for all that he’d shared with the tattooed dweller.
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