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[zayden]

[div style="width: 550px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 8.3pt; letter-spacing: .3px; line-height: 1.35;"][align=center]7 FEB 2019. / WORD COUNT 488 LISTENING TO MARIE ANTOINETTE by CURVED AIR / TAGS

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Admittedly, being unarmed was an unwise decision, but the apparent abundance of weapons in this new world had never made itself available to him. How others carried countless guns and daggers was a mystery to him, for aside from the occasional kitchen knife, he had yet to stumble upon something usable by those with more talent with weaponry than he. Though it increased his chances of being robbed, given how easy of a target he was, he had managed to avoid attacks largely by taking the long route and relying on friends he made along the way. If you couldn't be a thug, you could always charm a few into helping you out, or so his desperation to survive had taught him.

He wasn't stupid enough to think that Blake believed him, but he trusted that she would begin to see his honesty the longer he spent in her presence. If it came to it, she was free to search him — the most dangerous thing he carried was probably a mean stiletto... heel. Her semi-reluctant attempt at being welcoming prompted a tiny, amused huff, but he widened his smile regardless, dipping his head gratefully. He'd say it was nice to meet her, but this encounter was frosty, pun only slightly intended. He was sure she was a lovely girl — some people just needed to break the ice before they thawed. (And now he was laughing at his own internal monologue, but that was nothing new. He smothered the surge of mirth and focused on warming his hands.)

A clearing throat drew his eyes to another approacher — another woman, albeit older, notably more motherly-looking and holding a baby. Later, he would register her appearance and be strangely delighted by it, but he was so utterly captivated by the child that he scarcely noticed. "Yeah, Zayden," he confirmed warmly, flashing her a smile and giving the tot both a cooed "Hi!" and a little, fluttery-fingered wave. Following Hayley's motions, he settled down by the fire, stretching out his long limbs and groaning in pleasure at the sudden alleviation of weight from his feet. "Thank you, Jack!" he called after Hayley.

'What brings you up here?'

"I wanted to get away from the city for a while," he confessed. Though it was the environment he worked best in, his thoughts had grown so loud that focusing had become an impossibility. "I heard that Flintlock isn't as peaceful as a lodge in the mountains might seem, but it's certainly not as... loud." Permanency had never been a part of his life, as much as a sliver of him yearned for it — it seemed unrealistic for him to expect it here, but if Flintlock could restore his creativity, then he would appreciate it. "I'm not expecting to stay here for free, so if there's anything I can do, I will, but... I really would love to stay." For a while, if not forever.