Like Danger Was My Middle Name {Loki + bejiitasama}
Oct 8, 2014 11:57:08 GMT -5
Post by Loki on Oct 8, 2014 11:57:08 GMT -5
Trips to the apothecary were common for Zazou; surplus pharmaceuticals somehow made their way in a large covered basket to the old healer with his pots of herbs and a few real medicines; still the man had been a doctor, so folks said, anyhow. Zazou got stuck with this task since he was the most junior member of the staff, but it wasn't a task he minded: often, there was some mood-alterant he could pilfer, and even if not, the old man wasn't one of those useless bags of wasted air; he spoke seldom, but when he did, Zazou occasionally learned something.
Once he'd finished his delivery, he wandered down to the poorer side of town where the market stalls were less polite and polished and one could find all sorts of treasures if he looked. He'd found a scalpel here last week, rusted but intact, and had subsequently polished and sharpened it into a thing of beauty which now gleamed on his bedside table at home. Books, too, selling for next to nothing as they rotted in a heap under the sun, moldering and unwanted, at least until Zazou found them; he would take them home and read them, or read them to his grandfather when no one else was around.
He pushed his long black hair back with a pale hand, as he crouched to examine a box of books under a table; apparently the books had been being used as a footstool, to judge by the large boot-print on the top cover. Zazou looked over the titles and found a ragged and torn book called 'No Exit',and he stood up to pay for it; his little coin was happily accepted. Engrossed in the book, Zazou sat down on a nearby stoop, reading, with an occasional glance around the area simply as an instinctive precautionary measure. Maybe this small stone square should be his next target to visit in the darkest hours with his paint and brush.
A rare smiled crossed Zazou's lips; between the thought of pulling another one of his deadly pranks, and the book he was trying to pull apart mildewed page by mildewed page, at just this moment he was content; the sun was still warm overhead and he did not really feel like heading back to work just to drop the basket off and go home. Over the low rooves of the poor section he could see the lights of the college spires going on; only one more year and there he would be. He sighed over the wait, and debated getting up.
Word Count=427
((OOC: Feel free to literally trip over Zaz or however you want them to meet. Drop half a turkey on him or something LOL. I hope this post was acceptable))
Once he'd finished his delivery, he wandered down to the poorer side of town where the market stalls were less polite and polished and one could find all sorts of treasures if he looked. He'd found a scalpel here last week, rusted but intact, and had subsequently polished and sharpened it into a thing of beauty which now gleamed on his bedside table at home. Books, too, selling for next to nothing as they rotted in a heap under the sun, moldering and unwanted, at least until Zazou found them; he would take them home and read them, or read them to his grandfather when no one else was around.
He pushed his long black hair back with a pale hand, as he crouched to examine a box of books under a table; apparently the books had been being used as a footstool, to judge by the large boot-print on the top cover. Zazou looked over the titles and found a ragged and torn book called 'No Exit',and he stood up to pay for it; his little coin was happily accepted. Engrossed in the book, Zazou sat down on a nearby stoop, reading, with an occasional glance around the area simply as an instinctive precautionary measure. Maybe this small stone square should be his next target to visit in the darkest hours with his paint and brush.
A rare smiled crossed Zazou's lips; between the thought of pulling another one of his deadly pranks, and the book he was trying to pull apart mildewed page by mildewed page, at just this moment he was content; the sun was still warm overhead and he did not really feel like heading back to work just to drop the basket off and go home. Over the low rooves of the poor section he could see the lights of the college spires going on; only one more year and there he would be. He sighed over the wait, and debated getting up.
Word Count=427
((OOC: Feel free to literally trip over Zaz or however you want them to meet. Drop half a turkey on him or something LOL. I hope this post was acceptable))
