[identity profile] winifred-anwell.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] estdeus_innobis

Day 101
Wednesday Morning
The Organ Grinder


The road isn't empty even, fairly early in the day, and I try not to look at anyone too closely as I trot down the street, examining Dorian's map carefully.  I wouldn't like to get lost, but I do try to trip along at a good clip.  I'd like to impress Dorian by getting his errands done on time, so it's with a sense of purpose that I reach the large road and squint up at the signs.

The Organ Grinder?  That's... well, that's awful.  Macabre, to say the least.  But it's not my shop, and I'd have to say that I don't know what I would name a butcher's shop, anyway.  I still don't know how wise it is to go reminding your clientele of where their food comes from.  I try not to consider it, myself, but I remember how I cried when Papa explained to me that the lambs that the shepherd boys tended would be eaten someday!  Still, I suppose this is the way it's done.  I try not to be intimidated as I step inside, feeling the air cooler on my neck and looking around with wide eyes.  "Hello?" I try, timidly.  I'd like to hurry, but I have suddenly remembered that I don't know anyone here but Dorian.

[Closed]

Date: 2009-02-07 01:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] simon-klavec.livejournal.com
Gives me a smile. Glad to see it - was beginning to think I was scaring her. Brow creases as she thinks. "Well, I... I haven't seen a boy, so I suppose not. Is there a boy?" Nod. "Name's Oscar. 'Mr. Dorian' sends him by once a week or so. Think he helps out at the shop, too."

Blushes when as I ask if she's new. "Well, yes, a little bit," she says, like admitting to a small flaw. "But I live here now." Nod. "Only been here a few months, myself. Meant to be moving on soon. Might stick around longer, though." Saddle cut for the other lamb. Big cut, and can be roasted. Might not have a stovetop if he wants breast, and saddle can be cooked long and slow.

Need a cleaver for some of this. Again, a brush with the steel and a rinse. Then it's thwack! into the lamb forequarters.

Date: 2009-02-07 02:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] simon-klavec.livejournal.com
She sounds a bit doubtful as she says "Oh. I suppose I will be meeting him, then." Raise an eyebrow to myself as I turn the breast and cleave it again. Strange hire, not to meet the other helper. Wonder how new she is.

She jumps as I slam the blade down. Well. Not much to be done, and Excolo's not so large its folk can stay soft. None too fond of quiet either, it seems. Soon as I rest the cleaver she starts up again. "Did you like it here? Why are you moving on?" Huh. "Not gone yet, yeah? Still here. Was planning to move on once summer ended, but there's some things to keep me here yet." Glance back at her. Seems awfully young. "You're being careful in town, yeah? Some nice folk, sure, but some who aren't, too. And enough strangeness to get anyone into trouble." Take up the knife and start carving.

Date: 2009-02-07 05:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] simon-klavec.livejournal.com
"Of course I am," she says, all clipped. Shrug. Not my business. She's quiet for a moment, but then asks "What do you mean, strangeness? I mean, if it's not rude to ask. Well. How to go about this.

"It keeps quiet, generally," I say as I wrap the breast and fetch the hindquarters. "But I've heard folks here claim there are gods as live in Excolo. Black dogs chasing folks in the night. They say the Devil walks down from the water tower, and that there's a woman in town as can take your sins upon herself." Not giving names, mind. Don't want her getting too curious. "Not seen too much of it myself, but it's there." Doubt she'll believe me, but it might help her once she sees it for herself.

Date: 2009-02-07 11:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] simon-klavec.livejournal.com
Glance over at her. She's gaping a bit, so I keep working. The saddle cut's not quite so quick as the breast. Still, only take me a couple minutes, and it's ready to wrap. Take the steaks and the lamb, weigh each on the scale, and write the prices. When I bring them to the counter, she's got her voice back. "Oh. Well, then."

Recognize the tone and the look, both. Ah, well. Can't blame her. Wouldn't believe myself, either. Still. Feel better to have given her some warning than none. "You paying now, or should I send 'Mr. Dorian' the bill?" Faintly amused by that now. Should ask around and see if h's got a proper name.

Date: 2009-02-07 11:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] simon-klavec.livejournal.com
"Oh! Um." She looks panicked, briefly, before digging out some money from a pocket and handing it to me blind. It's enough to cover the meat, and from he look I think I should be glad. Poor girl seems scared or bewildered by half of what she's seeing and hearing.

Or she thinks I'm crazy. That might be it, too.

Count out a small amount of change, doing it slow so she knows what she's getting back. "That all for today, Miss?" Still hasn't told me her name. Won't hold it against her. Hand the meat over to her. "You want a hand carrying that back?" She might be able to manage it all. Still, it's not a long walk if she needs help.

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