Beauty & The Beast

[Carthrat]

The man, shrugs. "For your size? Uh, each shirt is about 5 bucks, but you'll need more stuff, so that's about 8 bucks, and..."

A short calculation later, he establishes the price for the shirts and trousers at a good 60 dollars. Well, it could be worse.

[Brian]

N'dovu thinks about this briefly, and then nods.  "That's a fair price," he finally says.  "I'd be glad for it."  After scribbling his size information on the back of his business card, he asks, "I imagine you will need a few days to prepare the garments?"

[Carthrat]

"Uh, yeah, something like that," replies the guy, looking around. "Do you want me to drop'em off personally, or mail them? Costs five bucks extra for postage."

[Brian]

"Delivery?" N'dovu considers this.  Does he trust the post office?  Not that much.  "That would be fine.  You can meet me at my work.  I'll see that something extra is given to you for your time."  N'dovu then bows deeply to the man.  "Thank you again," he says, counting out exactly half of the money.  "Do you happen to have a business card?"

[Carthrat]

"Uh, no. I'm just a street vendor," replies the man, twirling his drumsticks. "The, uh, Vapor Club, eh? Never been there."

[Brian]

N'dovu nods, and then hands over half of the money requested.  "Very well," he says.  "I look forward to trying your goods, and will give you the last on delivery."  Then with a smile, N'dovu leaves, taking some of his free time to peruse the array of useless junk on sale.

Maybe something will get his attention.

[Carthrat]

Well, nothing does.

Not immediately. Super-powered toasters and the aforementioned ultra-dollhouse are selling fast, but they're not really up to his standard. There's stands here and there of jewllery and the like; bracelets made of beads, necklaces with little symbols on the end...

There's even someone selling spirit-wards and good-luck charms. They even look authentic, but knowing the typical common mentality towards such things, they're probably sloppily made, anyway.

All in all, a typical market. Mostly odds-and-ends, bric-a-brac, trash-or-treasure things are sold.

[Brian]

Grunting in dissatisfaction at the lack of spirit in most of the wares, N'dovu heads for a quieter portion of the park, expecting to spend an hour or two just wandering through the trees before he goes back to his apartment, and writes a reply to Dr. Jame's latest letter.

[Carthrat]

Central park is a nice place. There's plenty of trees and natural wonders, but they don't block out the sun, so the whole park is brightly lit. N'Dovu sees plenty of people walking dogs (and some people walking cats) about the park, only some of which shy away, and even less bark at his presence.

It's about noon when he feels a tap on his back. "Uh, Mr. Dovu?" he hears behind him; a light, airy womans voice. Sounds american, though.

[Brian]

N'dovu flinches slightly, and turns, leaning on his staff as he does so.  He's not used to people wanting to come near enough to him to touch, so he eyes the speaker warily, but with a carefully neutral expression.

Or an epression that is as carefully neutral as a scarred face like his can provide.

[Carthrat]

N'Dovu finds himself looking into the face of a woman, whose eyes do not hold colour, but are instead empty white orbs, devoid of sight. She doesn't actually respond, but looks as though she's waiting for a reply.

A short distance behind her is a tall man with a sharply cut goatee. He's wearing a long brown coat (unusual for this weather) and his his hands stuck in the inside pockets. He's eyeing N'Dovu warily, but not taking any action.

[Brian]

"You may be looking for me," N'dovu replies after a moment, eyeing the man for a moment before regarding the woman closely.  "But my name is N'dovu."  N'dovu does not make mention of a passport with the name Nathaniel Dovu, or any other state-recognized ID.

Stupid America and their requirements for both a first and last name for even those who had not proven themselves.

[Carthrat]

"Ah, sorry, N'Dovu," she replies, taking a step back. "My name's Angela Grayham, and I'm a scientist working for a technology firm in Japan. But, heh, before I was a scientist, I wandered about a bit. I heard about you through Rick. Is it true you can see things when you're high?"

She speaks with a measured tone, but the words, somehow, don't sound fully-formed as they come out her mouth.

[Brian]

N'dovu's left eyebrow twitches just the slightest bit.  "No," he says gravely.  "The spirits are demanding of a greater acceptance of my journey into their realm before they reveal themselves to me."

N'dovu doesn't expect to see much, but carefully studies the man out of the corner of his eyes, trying to gauge if he's a fighter ... or just a gunman.

[Carthrat]

"Oh," replies the woman, pausing for a moment. "I don't suppose you could explain it to me?"

The guy might be dressed badly, and slightly unshaven. However, he seems poised, and his eyes are narrowed, constantly checking everywhere. However, he still tends to keep at least one eye on N'Dovu at all times.