Sol Searching

Sol in once piece. The city of sand and stone that sits comfortably on the edge of the wastelands stained by the sun during the daylight hours. There is a dry dusty wind that tosses through the streets of this city as Thyme glances around. She begins to wander off slightly from the party which she arrived with through the wasteland. The sun pierces between the buildings as it begins its decent behind the horizon, lighting the sky with neon hues of pink and orange.
The main street is lively with merchants selling many things across Arhor’ha. Tapestries drape overhead and provide shade from the burning sun. Thyme casually walks between people, taking in the sights before reaching the main well of the city. The hub of water for these peoples brings the most crowd. She takes a seat on an empty stone bench across from it, watching the many kinds of races that occupy this city go about their evening.
She looks down to the leather holder tied to her hip, her dreadlocks dangle down off her shoulders and she catches a glance to the new bead she acquired on her journey through the wastes before unbuckling the leather case and taking out her Tarot cards. She shuffles them casually while watching people come and go, left and right, chatting, yelling, singing. “Lively…” She mumbles under her breath.
Aylu was still in awe. She had been holding the 25-gold-piece reward from the escort in her hands so carefully, her eyes sparkling brighter than the precious metal glinting in the sunlight. She could hardly believe such an amount was possible for one person to be carrying around, much less herself.
She gently holds the coins in one hand, reaching to her side with the other, where a tiny pouch of ragged cloth is loosely strapped with a piece of twine. Her finger taps it lightly, and she immediately realizes it's barely large enough to hold the 2 gold coins she's been hoarding for so long. She takes a quick look around for a solution before tearing off the majority of her right sleeve. A small cluster of insects, suddenly exposed, light up then fly over to her other arm, tucking themselves beneath the remaining sleeve. "I'm sorry little ones," she smiles at them as they disappear once more. "I need that a bit more than you do right now!"
The Halfling falls to the ground, legs crossed, as she ties up the sleeve on one end and dumps the coins into it. "Now you're safe and we can continue on our way!" She jumps up as fast she plopped down, eyes darting around every which way. She notes her companions for the past few weeks but finds herself drawn to the sight of the long, busy street ahead. Without a second thought she begins to stumble her way through the commotion, noting the various faces, ears, skin colors, and more. With each step though, she begins to find herself more caught up in just how put together everyone looks. She looks to her bare arm with a slight feeling of contempt, bordering on shame, but the feeling is interrupted as she slams into something solid, falling into a puddle of dirty water on the ground.
"Oh ow," she mutters. She looks up to a decent crowd surrounding a stone well, water consistently splashing the ground around it.
All of the sounds of a lively desert town can become a symphony or a cacophony both to the ears of an audience unfamiliar. The sights of so many different races mingle like the spices in the air. The emotions of joy and ambition glimmer like silver in the sun. How can such a place be so bright of soul and personality. Perhaps it's in the name. It has Sol. Was it always so? In a place adjacent to such a ruthless flickering of life in the dunes?
There are predators yet in the sand. Those that surface when a breeze shifts the sands to reveal their carapace, that mask of a skin. Eyes like glass in the darkness.
Thyme would feel the gaze somewhere out there in the sea. Something dangerous lurks behind the mask of a smile. Something that wants her guard down so her throat is veins are exposed to the poison and the sting. 
Since he arrived in Sol, Dante has worn many masks. The traveler. The merchant. The sellsword. The adventurer. The gambler. The friend. Is this his true face? This face sculpted with fine unnatural features. Bands of dark lines against a skin gently hued by the flame of the sun. Eyes that burn with a fire of life that capture the same as a campfire on a dark night. Hair like a mist of smoke that drifts off of him to combine in the story of his infernal heritage. A tiefling too human to be a tiefling without horns. A tiefling too infernal to be a human with that supernatural visage that gives the heart an extra dose of danger to its beat.

“Mystery and beauty,” Dante says, one such man in the crowd near Thyme. His voice is slickened with silver. It’s his eyes that follow to connect the distant words to the person and her tarot. “A tale just on the other side, no? That draws you in.” He steps closer to accent the proclamation. Danger. Then a smile like candy over the poisoned apple. “The cards,” he points a gloved hand over to the deck, “that is. I’ve always found fate a wondrous book with no name. Do you name them? The words of fate.”
The cards continue to be shuffled between her hands, watching her goofy party member from the waste obliviously slam into the well in the center of town across the way as people either laugh or offer a hand of assistance. The strangers voice seems to stand out amongst the crowd of bustling people going about their lives. Her purple eyes glance momentarily to the man before they look down at her cards as he mentions and points at them. “To name something that is rather obscure seems impossible. When all but a number and title imprint them and fuel them to be something much more.” She draws a card from the top of the deck. “The Fool.“ She holds it out. “Has many names, many meanings. It is not my place to place a name on them but simply tell the story which they store within.” She pauses for a moment laying the card down face up on her lap. “The Fool signifies a new adventure. A new path or a leap of faith. ” Thyme then places her index finger on the card at the top of her deck. 
“A bold man comes out from the crowd to approach another stranger. He seems to have been here longer than her, confident and curious with an undertone of darkness…” She flips the next card over. “The Hermit.” She proclaims. “The man is searching for something.” She doesn’t look away from the card, placing it down beside the other on her lap. “A new adventure in which the man feels the need to search for something…” She pulls one last card, flipping it over. “The Tower.” Her eyes widen for a moment, leaning back slightly to look up to the mysterious man. “Chaos, trauma, life altering. That darkness… you have been through quite the ordeal?” She grins looking at him. “Does this book of fate satisfy you, stranger?
"Is a desert traveler satisfied by the first drink of water from the lips of a chilled jar?" Dante replies. His eyes never left Thyme's face as she worked. They search for meaning in the expressions subtle and bold as she speaks and interprets. "Is he left wanting more? Yes. How can he not? Its intoxicating. The perfect lure, fate. But, my beautiful stranger, I have a secret to share as payment rendered."
It is rumored that tieflings smell of brimstone. There is truth in the rumor for those sired by Asmodeus. Dante smells of sandalwood and freshly minted gold. He leans in to whisper his payment to the ear of the fortune teller, "That man there, the priest. Called upon by his god to bring Light to souls of his procession. Fated to be a drunk, like his father before him. See there? In the feet. They walk as if on a boat. He has had two drinks already and his sermons start within the hour." Of course he has, Dante gave it to the man to loosen his lips on information on the area. "Fated to righteousness and to the drink. He must fight his fate day by day. Such a book! Such a tale."
"What is it about fate that causes men to defy it so? To not ask for permission to live, but to live by their own rules. To not be a stranger to their lives, but a warm companion. My name is Dante Peridta, fatereader, and now we are strangers no more," the tiefling says. In his time spinning his tale, he has found himself sitting on the bench next to Thyme. Gestures of his hands show off the fine points of the story.
“And that there, is what keeps me in business. Curiosity of one’s potential fate is as you say, intoxicating.” She laughs some, shifting the cards on her lap together and in a quick motion they return to the deck, shuffled together once more with a tap to the edge. 
The man leans in closer to whisper and point out the drunken priest that stumbles his way down the street. Her purple eyes watch intently has he speaks of the priest’s story. “Therein lies the question, can someone walk a path of two meanings?” Her eyes remain on the priest walking down the street. “For all we know, something pivotal might happen to that man because of those two things combined.” She breaks her gaze to look at the man that has now taken a comfortable seat next to her. “My name is Thyme.” She bows her head slightly in his direction. Small beads jingle within her dreadlocks as she does so. A warm smile crosses her face. “It is not often I come across others intrigued by the strings that which pull us. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dante Peridta. Tell me, what brings you to this city?”
Step. Step. Crack. Crunch. Step. Step. Crack. Crunch. Pause.
Spit. Step. Step. Crack. Crunch.
The sounds of Ode are about as pleasant as he is on his worst day. Fortunately this is a good day. With a few more steps, several sun flower seed shells tossed out of view, and a very satisfied series of crunches the urban brawler approaches this chance meeting of two strong believers in fate. At least, he seems to think they believe in fate.
He sits on the other side of Thyme and watches this encounter while softly munching on his sunflower seeds before holding his hand out to Dante," Want some seeds?"
Crunch
The redheaded Halfling's ear immediately perked up, she knew few sounds as well as that after her few weeks traveling the Wastes. She thanked the people who helped her up and quickly attempted to wipe down her backside from the water seeping into the fibers, her other hand deadlocked around her pouch of gold.
"Ode I want some seeds!" she turns to the source of the noise, surprised to see Thyme and some stranger as well. The rhythm back in her step, she hops over to the bench and stands proud in front of it, a sly smile across her face.
Eyes of hazel swivel to the beaming beam of Halfling as Ode reaches into his pocket with his free hand and holds out his hand palm down in front of Aylu as if to drop the sunflower seeds into an awaiting hand. 
“Don’t do anything that’ll ruin the vibe of this place, alright Lu,” pleads Ode in a honey coated tone of a father, soothing yet impishly firm.
He pats his pocket and a quick frown shines but dies as he mumbles outloud,” Gotta restock.”
"Hey now," Aylu says, popping a seed into her mouth clear attitude. "I don't ruin things. Unintentionally." She chews up the seed and shell whole, continuing to talk through the process. "If you have shopping to do, so do I. I've plenty of things to do but I've no idea where ANYTHING IS," her arms shoot up in a grand gesture to the city. "Anyways, whatcha up to with the cards Thyme?"
What brings you to this city
With the way those eyes of fire and gold glow back to Thyme, one could surmise the answer is as simple as You in a different story and a different day.
That is not the tale of Dante and Thyme this particular day. There is that familiar chaos of society that paints the frame. White noise making its way into the fore and an offering of seeds. Where a bench occupied two it now occupies three. Three and a half, depending on how you count the redheaded halfling.
Dante Perdita's smile looks perfectly practiced. It is the sort of mask worn at formal balls and dark gambling dens. Sculpted to be authentic, but not entirely sincere. "To listen to the heart of this side of the twin-towns and see what makes it race," the silver tongued devil answers to Thyme's question. "Adventure," he then says plainly, eyes and body shifting to the seed giver and seed consumer. "At times you find it and others times it finds you, but to be in its company is nothing short than to live. Your friends, quite lively."
"Introductions?" the tiefling asks, "Or do we dare keep some mystery about us and guess at the fates before." That smile is more natural in a smirking grin kin to only certain infernals, "And the fates to come."
“Ode.”
Perhaps the blandest introduction one could ever utter gets tossed into the world just to fill the hole that silence has dug for itself. Yet, as unsavory as it is, it carries a proclamation from Ode in its blunt single syllable space. But what could it be?
If the sun’s rays are to be compared, then a single phrase can be replete with a rainbow of meaning if perceived through an appropriate lens.
The slight squint of his eyes and a heavy sigh could show a certain blue hue in his face. Perhaps Dante has left poor Ode speechless and flustered. Then again that same heavy sigh and squint could be a gateway to the green-eyed monster lurking just beneath the skin, shaken by the attention Dante seems to grasp like a captain sailing his ship through calm waters.
Though the quiver in Ode's palm and the locked position of his jaw scream out for a chance to pummel the smile Dante Perdita has practiced so perfectly into the ground for lacking all of the sincerity that it entails. Yet that same tightened jaw compliments his straightened back and meticulous eyes as they beam down upon Dante like the yellow sun's rays striking out as a freshly formed shadow. This purple haze of mystery surrounding Dante is a blanket over Ode's senses and underneath writhes the tendrils of suspicion. Perhaps fate is on his side much the same as it is for Thyme.
He may never know. He shows all emotions yet none. The interpretation is up to the small world created by Dante, Aylu, and Thyme.
Strange is a choice word for the encounters she has made through her travels. For every city she steps through, eccentric souls great her with curious personalities and tales. Thyme who sits between two such souls places her Tarot cards back into the leather case attached to her belt. One greets her with the offering of sunflower seeds while the other sits casually on the other side of her on the bench, speaking of adventure and fates. That is till another small and curious soul joins them. 
Eyes glance between all three as they snack on Ode’s strangely unlimited supply of sunflower seeds thus far before glancing back to Dante. “Lively, yes. Although, resilient to the dreads of the wastes as well.” She smiles to him. “I need only a name for an introduction, anything past that is sincerely up to you to share or not. If it is truly something I need to know, it will present itself in due time. It always does.” Her eyes narrow for a moment. Purple iris’ glisten off the setting sun towards the interesting person beside her. There is a strange feeling behind the ending of her sentence and as she stares at his face it is as though she’s searching but never finding the answer she wants. She can always read the faces of those that cross her path, the fate seeking drunkards that toss coin at her from across the table in search for some little hope left or perhaps, confirmation of their misery. Though here in this sun stained city of Sol, sits a man she cannot read. “You are an interesting one indeed.” Her expression changes and a warm smile crosses her face. Her head turns to look down at the little halfing. “Well you see… I like to shuffle my cards as often as I can. It solidifies the fate in which is pulled from them when I read the fortune of others.” She chuckles. “Or, perhaps I just like looking at their design.” Smirking down at the little one that continues to snack. “And it would seem I have met another interesting person here.” Motioning to Dante who sits next to her on the stone bench.
Fate, fortune. No cards determine my path, Aylu thought to herself. "They are pretty to look at," she confirmed. She watched Dante out of the corner of her eye, unsure of him, but also somewhat disinterested. She takes a quick glance around the area, seeing mainly people and drifting sand in the air. The sight was quickly becoming normal to her, but also somewhat too familiar. In a place so bustling with activity, either you get comfortable or get out she determined.
"So, I need help finding uh... clothes," her voice lost a bit of its normal energy as she glanced to the torn, stained, clearly overused rags she had been donning for far longer those she was addressing. The energy suddenly back and with a hint of defiance she says, "If people are gonna keep looking at me I expect a wow or where can I get that, and now I have more money than I know what to do with!" She pivots on her feet, turning around and popping another seed in her mouth in the process. "We can get whatever you guys need too, of course."
A smile goes out to Thyme to wordlessly convey humble thanks for being so interesting. A tilted nod of the head to convey the same to her. Then there is the quiet ire that Dante observes from Ode. Like a dam holding back water. Best to take caution and not let it spring a leak. That would be conventional wisdom.
Dante is not a man of conventional wisdom when bruises can be earned doing something fantastically stupid.
"Ode," Dante speaks slower and simpler with the other man. He is aware of that quiver in Ode's hands. Compared to Dante's, which remain as calm as a painters, as the tiefling points to the sunny man gone quiet. "Dante," he continues as speaking to a stunted child, "Perdita." His eyes have a haunting hex to them while settled on Ode. Selune and Mask are destined to be at ends with each other. As is so the Sun and Shade. It is the malice that the tiefling feels and it is as familiar as white noise. Without it the world wouldn't feel as injust as it always has been.
Hearing words of fashion and flair, Dante's interests are quickly carried elsewhere. He is nothing else if not a tiefling of vanity. Once he had the most wonderful jacket. Fur lining like fresh snow. Leathers from Nexus itself! His current state doesn't reflect it with the simple leathers over metal, but one makes due. "And you have a star in your troupe," the tiefling says, "with the hunt for fashion and avarice. Did you come across a great windfall as of late?" The later question is primarily to Thyme, who is seated next to him, "A deep desert tomb recently plundered, perhaps?"
"Talk any slower and that snake tongue of yours might get caught between your thick teeth, Perdita."
The Sun, though not saying more, has already developed a future with the Shade and, whether he'd admit it or not, Fate sits at her loom again. Intertwining destinies with glee and spite. Ode tosses Dante three sunflower seeds as he stands, the last trio of sustenance used as an agility test for the man in black.
A quick stare at his own rags inclines Ode to spend his riches. Or save them for when he needs to be bailed out of jail, inevitably. A quick swing of his dreadlocks to the face as he looks at Aylu prompts him to tie his loose locks. "Thanks for thinking about the rest of us, Lu," he jokes as if the two weeks they spent together was a lifetime," I'm sure if we look around hard enough we can find you a big hat. Make you look like a battle princess. I'll spot you five gold if it ends up being pricey. Sound good?"
He looks down at his redheaded friend and lets loose one of his famous smiles. Polished like fine glass, Ode's teeth reflects the sun's light and beams his own positivity through a simple elevation of his cheek bones. It's as if a small portion of the moon could fit in his mouth, not blinding like the hovering star above but just as attention grabbing.
Being a tiefling in Arhor'ha isnt sunshine and rainbows. The best of people find you exotic whereas the majority find a seed of fear and react in the worst ways. Sunflower seeds being thrown at you is not the worst thing that has happened to him, but the response is always the same. His eyes remain on Ode as he retorts. The seeds hit the fair masked tiefling's face and hit the ground unceremoniously. 
"Racism is the tool of a slow mind. I only meant to oblige. Clearly," he kneels to dust off the seeds, "I was mistaken." A gentle breath dusts off the seeds. He doesn't keep them for himself. He places the seeds on the stone bench on the other side of Thyme and closer to Aylu, "5 second rule," he winks. Settling back onto the bench he smiles that fake smile back to Ode.
Aylu audibly gasps in surprise. She turns right back around, her eyes gleaming like the gold once more. "Five. More. Gold? This is amazing. I feel so rich. How much do clothes even cost when you don't find them buried in the sand? WAIT!" The Halfling throws her arms behind her back and a small patchwork bag, previously hidden beneath her hair, drops to the ground. It's filled to the brim the pelt of the Worg the group encountered along their caravan escort. "Think I can get some use out of this? OH, or maybe I could sell it and get even more money? Maybe even both..." she drifts off for a moment, lost in her thoughts of grandeur.
Before Thyme could respond to Dante, the sharp words that follow from her traveling companion Ode, makes her quickly shift to look over to him. She watches intently, looking between the two until Ode takes a stand from the bench and hurls sunflower seeds to Dante, hitting him in the face. She casually tilts to the side to dodge any that might fling her way and the beads in her hair jingle together. “Well that is certainly one way to make an impression.” She speaks with a calming voice that breaks through the drowning aura’s of both men. 
“Careful little one.” She says, quickly following Aylu’s remarks. “Boasting of coin may give you unnecessary attention in a city such as this.” She watches Dante settle once more on the bench. “I apologize.” Eyes briefly shifting up to Ode. “Whatever this may be, I want no part in it. If you are both destined to duke it out in the streets of Sol so be it but, please punch each other in the faces away from my potential customers for readings.” She grins happily, tilting her head to the side with another warm smile. A comforting aura that many have taken to when hearing of their fates.
Ode stops in his smile and his head immediately swivels to Dante. Ode is many things. A brawler, a friend, a sunflower chewer, a guy that punches things very fast, a survivor, a bit rude, and above all honest. But a racist...
The very thought causes Ode's entire body to tense up as he glares into Dante's eyes so intensely that the static tension between them is almost shocking. Not enough for Thyme luckily, whose words pull Ode's attention and, in response to the scaring of potential customers, she receives a look of "How am I the bad guy" followed by another sigh of momentary defeat. Not by Dante. Obviously not defeated by Dante.
In a swift swipe Ode takes the sunflower seeds off the bench and pockets two while cracking the third to eat. "5 second rule," the young man echoes with gritted teeth as he turns to face both Dante and Thyme, yet focuses solely on his happily grinning pal," You want anything while we're out?"
He pops a sunflower seed to chew on before his teeth start to chip away at themselves.
"A new set of dice and a new deck of cards," Dante replies with that smile on his face. Playing dice and card games with one of Dante's deck would only grow ire. A fresh set picked by Ode? That's when some real gambling can begin.
Looking up to Ode she smiles brightly. “You are not.” She says as if reading the very expression, he gives to her without him even speaking. “And if for some reason you come across needle and thread, that would be much appreciated.” She digs around her coin pouch and hands a gold piece out to Ode. “I’ll seek you out shortly.” Another warming smile before she leans back on the bench, stretching her arms upwards. “I want to watch the people of this city for a bit while I rest my legs. Trekking through sand is rather exhausting.”
"Trekking through sand is about all I know!" Aylu gathers her belongings as fast as she showed them to the world, bag once again on her back and sleeve of gold once again in her hand. She was walking in place, head twisting in all directions but clearly finding no hold. "So. Where is anything?"
While the group of fresh faces is distracted, Dante looks past them and into the crowd. Something familiar and profitable. "It has been a brief and sublime time," he tells Thyme as he stands up. "To New Beginnings," he recalls the first card, turning to face her and walk backwards into the crowd. When Ode or Aylu next distracts, he is gone like a drop of ink dripping into a recent spill on the parchment.
"Alright, so I've got a needle and thread and a deck of..."
Dante is gone. Ode should be happy. He is not. Besides the momentary confusion, Ode neither sighs in relief or huffs in agitation at the chance to insult the new aquaintance. He is plain just like his sunflower seeds. To Aylu, he gives his full attention as he points to a store with a small hat hanging outside of its window while turning her head in the same direction.
"Hat store," he holds out five gold in front of her, a fine line of wealth and luxury spread before her as he grins in a teasing way," Someone might be looking at the hat you're for, Lu. Or maybe it's already gone..." Without skipping a beat in his shenanigans, Ode's voice carries over his shoulders loud enough for Thyme and several other people to hear," If someone gets rowdy, I'm only five seconds away."
Aylu taps her foot in consideration for a few moments, an audible hmm joining its rhythm. "I supppppooooooossssseeeeeee we can check it out. I do need actual clothes too, but maybe a hat will be cute. Maybe even on you too!"
She notices that Dante has left but decides to not comment, sure that he'll come around when he decides he wants to.