Which one?

"Which one should I buy..."

This thought had been pervading Cyrus's thoughts for quite some time now, burrowing in and out of his brain like a worm in an apple you give a particularly nasty teacher.He had come to this hat stand after figuring out that, like most deserts, that it was Bright. The sun beat down on this area with the force of a sledgehammer, slamming beams of searing light into the ground. Which kinda explains why this place was such a barren wasteland.

Which still meant he needed a hat, which Brought him back to his current dilemma of...Which one? He'd seen some people around here wearing tall cowboy hats, their brims as wide as the shoulders of the men they were worn by. And these hats were nice...just not for him. He wasn't into the flashiness of them. When the hat entered the room before you did, it was too big.too much. So what else? He'd seen some guy wandering around town,as pale as he was, smoking a cigarette and writing things down in a book of his. He'd Been wearing one of those tall top hats. He considered this for a moment, then threw the Idea out. Too tall. A Porkpie hat? Too useless,Cyrus pondered al the kindsof hats, pacing around the little hat stand, watching it, Dissecting it, as the Mad Doctor would have said. But the question still stood

"Which one should I buy..."

Bright eyes peered around the many hatstands with various headwear proudly on display. The man who was muttering to himself seemed terribly plagued with doubt about which hat to purchase. Lily had been inspecting a little sun hat with flowered accents on the band. Maybe she could look for a new hat later when she could actually buy one. She watched the man curiously as he paced and mumbled to himself.

She cast a sidelong glance at the hats and slipped back behind the many stands to inspect the hats a bit more thoroughly. The man certainly sounded interesting but Lily found his accent more of a comfort than distraction. It reminded her that she wasn't the only person who was new here in the city. It was awfully big after all. She had been hoping to pick out a nice hat to save up for after what had happened to her current one at Chupa♡Cabra's.

She observed several suitable hats but based on his attire they would clash with his outfit immediately. Finally she found it amidst the many many faceless heads that sported the merchandise. A pale blue-gray page boy hat and a dark slate fedora. One of these would do the trick! She smiled and took a deep breath as she picked up both hats off the mannequin heads. Hopefully this would be helpful. She gathered her courage and stepped from around the display to present the hats to the man her face hiding under her parasol in shyness. "E-e-excuse me s-s-sir, would either of th-th-these hats be s-s-suitable to y-y-your tastes?"

Her voice was meek but strong. She wanted to be heard, she just had trouble getting her words to come out smoothly. The worst he could do is say no right? Her heart thudded leadenly as she worried and wondered if many people in this city were asx friendly as Charli had been.

He had been pacing for quite some time now, wearing a wandering path to and fro, mumbling and murmuring his thoughts about one hat or another. He was quite a sight, a lean pale Irishman murmuring curses that only those of the Quarter would know, and most would smack him for being so vulgar! But he couldn't make up his mind and it was driving him mad! what to do, what to do, what to-

He stopped suddenly, mid-mumble, as a small, very pale girl in a yellow dress materialize out from behind one of the mannequins, who had been standing there, stoically watching this odd Irishman make a fool out of himself in public. She had a parasol with her, which made quite a bit of sense in the current situation. Except she seemed to almost hide behind it. Was she afraid of him? He WAS rather odd, wasn't he?

"E-e-excuse me s-s-sir, would either of th-th-these hats be s-s-suitable to y-y-your tastes?"

No, she wasn't scared. She stutters, yes, but that doesn't mean anything. There was something to de petite, and he respected that.He bent down the examine the hats, a bluish-grey page-boy hat, and a dark grey Fedora. Maudit this girl was good. The Page-boy brought him back to the front door of Speak Easies, A blues bar where he had played with Jean Fillipe and his Blues Quartet.He had sat there many a night, a smoke in his hand and the days pay in his pocket. But the other hat, it was dark, sleek. It looked like the gangsters hats of the Thirties, of suave,success, Cool.

The problem was...he Couldn't make up his bloody mind!!So,he did the only sensible thing he could do at a time like this: ask for directions.

"Well, the problem is I happen to like both of them. I can't make up my mind! Tell me, Miss, Which one do you think is better?

Which one? Well, both were great hats, they each suited his face beautifully. He didn't really have to pick one over the other did he? Lily said the only sensible thing she could think of. "W-w-well, s-s-sir. I must say, if y-y-you happen to h-h-have e-e-enough to, then b-b-buy th-th-them both. Then a-a-again, if you d-d-don't have enough buy th-th-the one y-y-you c-c-can afford." Lily swallowed thickly and fidgeted under her parasol. She hoped she had given him the right advice. It been a while since she'd actually done anything other than survive by whatever meager ways she could.

She twisted and shifted her weight as she held the two hats out still. If he really liked them both so much maybe both hats would make him happy. Ceci would have been proud of her, she wasn't crying or trying to run away. She was definitely beginning to get better with people. He seems kind enough. I wonder if he's lost too? Maybe he knows where I can find a map of the city? Lily squirmed a little more before speaking up again. "B-b-but of c-c-course, I c-c-could be wr-wr-wrong..." She hoped he didn't mind too much if she wasn't. He was someone she found very interesting. She'd like someone to listen to. Would he mind if she didn't talk much? She hoped he wouldn't.

She adjusted her parasol and peered up at him curiously. Maybe he wasn't terribly different? Just a stranger in a strange place like she was. How could anyone find their way around the first time? This place was so expansive and befuddling. A mechanical genius she may have been but an architect or geographer she was not. She rarely had a map from anywhere she wandered through. She just wasn't used to having to be found if she wandered off. It was almost strange to be needed. For now this gentleman needed her too.

The little one had a point, didn't she? He didn't have to choose just one. And they were both good hats. And who doesn't need more hats? He could take one to the range, and one to a gig. The blue one would look really good with his guitar... He pondered this a some more, dropping back into his thoughts...almost restarting the whole horrid cycle which she had stopped. Why was she here? He looked at her again.

She was moving around, fidgeting, shifting her weight and moving her feet. She was nervous in speech, like someone had gotten mad at her when she spoke, like she was still trying to get over it. That wasn't good. Cyrus couldn't stand people hurting children. It wasn't fair. He pulled himself back out of his thoughts yet again. It was probably nothing like that. He shouldn't jump headlong into this girls life. Not without knowing more.

Luckily for me, I just finished a piece for a certain crazy texan musician, so money is no object, and seeing as their both wonderful, I think Ill get both, Miss... he extended the phrase, hoping she would fill in the blank with her name. Cause it all begins with at least not calling her de petitein his head.

Lily watched as he seemed to take a liking to her advice and then the process almost started all over again. She peered at him curiously from under parasol and let her hand rest at her side with both hats still held tightly. Maybe he wouldn't be a good one to listen to after all. He seemed to get caught up in his own thoughts more than speaking them. Maybe he was just a little too similar to her when it came to sharing thoughts.

"O-o-oh L-l-lily, Lilliana Nariko Morthena." Her voice seemed to stop shaking long enough for her to squeeze out her own name. She put both hats atop her own and pulled the side of her skirt out as she performed a one handed curtsey. How rude, she'd forgotten to introduce herself. Momma would have thrown a fit. Lily decided it would be best to quickly make up her little faux pas. "M-m-my apologies I-I-I d-d-don't mean t-t-to intrude on y-y-your personal m-m-matters but I-I-I h-hope I was able t-t-to a-a-assist you."

She rose from her curtsey and took the two extra hats off of her own to offer them to the man to take. "M-m-might I a-a-ask y-y-your name?" she shifted her parasol to uncover her face from his view but not let the sun shine down on her delicate skin. Big blue eyes stared up at him hopefully as she waited for his introduction.

Cyrus began to notice the curious gaze she gave him through that parasol of hers. It didn't faze him in the slightest,he was used to odd glances. It came with the territory. He also noticed a little annoyance in her when he got lost in his thoughts. It wasn't big,obvious things, but the wrinkle of her nose here, the minute shake of her head there. She didn't like him dropping in and out, his thoughts that old radio dial, tuning back and forth. He'd have to cut that out.

"O-o-oh L-l-lily, Lilliana Nariko Morthena."

He saw that little bit of shock and annoyance as she introduced herself. Her voice evened out as she spoke her name, her timbre becoming smoother. When Its not choppy, its actually quite nice. She placed both hats on her head, using her newly-free hands to curtsy.
"M-m-my apologies I-I-I d-d-don't mean t-t-to intrude on y-y-your personal m-m-matters but I-I-I h-hope I was able t-t-to a-a-assist you."

She was very...Formal. Formal was the word. Like people were crystal glasses that you held ever gentle, afraid they would shatter at the slightest touch,turning them hard and cold. And in a million pieces. She rose from her curtsy and took both hats off her head and offered them to him again,"M-m-might I a-a-ask y-y-your name?"

Cyrus took the page-boy hat from her and placed it upon his brow,I am a showman, an artist, a gunsmith, a meister. he took the other hat, the Fedora, and swung it around with a flourishMy name is Cyrus McFadden, and its not a very personal matter if I'm in a public place, now is it? And you were most helpful. Without your help I could have very well been at this all day! he gestured to the checkout Now, why don't we actually go purchase these, before the owner gets mad at us.

Lily giggled adoringly and spun with him as he flourished the fedora. He was fun to listen to. Lily answered his introduction of titles with her own. He'd offered his dabblings to her, she should at least be polite and introduce her own. "Th-th-that sounds p-p-pretty fun, e-e-except f-f-for g-g-guns. I d-d-don't like th-th-the idea of u-u-using w-w-weapons. I-I-I'm a s-s-singer, d-d-dancer, m-m-mechanic, and p-p-potions crafter." She spun again and looked up at him with bright eyes, and a kiddish grin on her face.

"O-o-oh y-y-yes, I-I-I sup-pose that i-i-is r-r-right! O-o-oh, I sup-pose w-w-we sh-should pay f-f-for th-th-the hats n-n-now." She cleared her throat gently and offered him her arm to escort him to the end of the stall where the booth keeper sat. "Wo-wo-would you m-m-mind e-e-escorting me u-u-until my g-g-guardian can l-l-locate me? Mikhail m-m-must be t-t-terribly w-w-worried about me." She began to fidget and squirm, a small brim of tears forming in her eyes in shame for having to ask. She was lost and didn't know what else to do.

If she couldn't find her way back to Mikhail he might begin to worry, she didn't want to bother Mr McFadden. It would be nice to listen to him. She wondered what it was like being a gunsmith. Would he have liked her song and dance like Charli had? She would learn, she would find the answers in him by listening. She looked up and smothered her anxiety as best she could to flash a fake smile at him that was meant to be innocuous. She was a little too well practiced in the ways of covering the worst of her grief with a smile when people were around. Lily forced her eyes to meet Cyrus' as she spoke, her tone barely faltering as if she put her entire focus into the question. "I'd like to hear more about you." A flicker crossed her face of worry but the request in itself was earnest. Not all wander are lost.

"Th-th-that sounds p-p-pretty fun, e-e-except f-f-for g-g-guns. I d-d-don't like th-th-the idea of u-u-using w-w-weapons. I-I-I'm a d-d-dancer, m-m-mechanic, and p-p-potions crafter."

A dancer, Eh? he could see that. Mechanic, he could not. Someone of her...stature, lets call it, usually aren't seen around a shop. But hey, weirder things happen. Especially here. I mean, how many other places do you see people that turn into weapons. Not many. So in the grande scheme of things, she could hold her surprises. Though what did seem odd was the potions crafter thing. The last "potion crafter" he'd met had been an old hoodoo woman that had lived in a houseboat o the bayou. She'd given him a little something "For luck" that had turned his insides out and made him bedridden for a week. So the potions thing was a little...odd.

"O-o-oh y-y-yes, I-I-I sup-pose that i-i-is r-r-right! O-o-oh, I sup-pose w-w-we sh-should pay f-f-for th-th-the hats n-n-now."
She extended her arm,"Wo-wo-would you m-m-mind e-e-escorting me u-u-until my g-g-guardian can l-l-locate me? Mikhail m-m-must be t-t-terribly w-w-worried about me."
A small tear began to collect itself near the corner of her eye. He began to wonder, who was this Mikhail? And why would she be tearing up at their separation? Hmm...curious
"I'd like to hear more about you."

Cyrus took her arm with his own hat-wielding one, and said I wouldn't mind in the slightest, Miss Morthena. It sounds like a lovely adventure
He laughed at himself a little on the inside as they waltzed to the checkout line. He usually wasnt this...flamboyant. Short and straight, that was his gig. Not this flashy, with the showy speech. But the entertainer in him had come out with style, and he couldn't just let her be. She wanted him to be like this. And so he was. Him and silly putty, man. They're whatever you want em to be.But enough of that. As for me, My story isn't that good, but if you want to hear it, we might want to sit down. I tend to get into it

A genuine smile beamed through her practiced mask and for a moment she seemed genuinely happy. As he hooked his arm with hers she lengthened her stride to match his as best she could. If she couldn't match his stride she'd simply double time her own steps toward the check out line. He'd speak for her so she could listen. She felt a thrill run along her spine and almost shivered. Was this what it was like to feel accepted? First Charli and now Cyrus. Was this what it was like to have friends? She didn't know. She'd never actually stopped anywhere long enough to make friends.

Lily adjusted her parasol over her shoulder and kept pace with Cyrus's footsteps in a practiced gait that few ladies raised outside of aristocracy learned. Her back straightened, her head lifted, and her steps became precise as she kept her arm linked with his in a long underpracticed posture. Still she tried to keep her posture steady and graceful as she walked with him. If a lady was to be escorted by a gentleman she was to walk proudly so as not to embarrass him.

Lily giggled softly at his downplay of his own history and wagged a finger at him teasingly. A sad smile seemed to curve her lips as she blinked to hold back the light that hurt her eyes the more she looked up at him. "N-n-now now, a w-w-wise man o-o-once told m-m-me th-th-that there was n-n-no such th-th-thing as a st-st-story that wa-wa-wasn't worth h-h-hearing." She squinted up at him hoping that her words might lift his spirits a bit. She pointed toward an area of the market place where a few benches went uninhabited, shaded by many towering levels of walls. It was a perfect little niche in which to sit and listen.

Mikhail might be able to see her more readily there if she kept her parasol open. She would stay shaded from the sun and not have to worry about exhausting herself anymore. Besides, she had someone who knew how to fight, obviously, escorting her. She was confident she would be safe for now. "Th-th-thank you v-v-very much for e-e-escorting me. I'll b-b-b s-s-sure to return th-th-the favor s-s-sometime." Lily flashed him what she hoped was a charming smile as she directed him toward the benches once the transaction for the hats was complete.

"Y-y-you simply must t-t-tell me a-a-all about y-y-your p-p-performances. I-I-I've always w-w-wondered wh-wh-what it'd be l-l-like to b-b-be a r-r-real p-p-performer." She wanted to hear everything she could of his career. It sounded so interesting. Where had he played? What music had he done? What instrument was his favorite? What kinds of songs did he like? So many things to learn about him as well as the life of a true troubadour!

She smiled at him, different from the others she had beamed his way. Those had been …not fake, but different. This one was emotional. She was happy, genuinely happy when she hooked her arm into his. Cyrus smiled back at her as she tried to lift his spirits. Not many people took interest in the lives of others, especially people who had been raised as she had. Her apparently well-practiced posture, coupled with her high head and feet that kept up with his told the story of someone raised in manners, her steps one of grace. Those characteristics usually belonged to people whose noses were permanently upturned at the world, and especially people of His background. But she didn’t, and he liked that about her.
She thanked him for escorting her, something else he had never seen people of her raising do, and even promised to return the favor with a smile, trying to be charming. And for the most part it worked. But she was trying, and not trying to manipulate him. That counts for something, he thought to himself. She pointed out a bench she found, situated under the shadow of some of the towering white walls that seemed to permeated Death City.
"Y-y-you simply must t-t-tell me a-a-all about y-y-your p-p-performances. I-I-I've always w-w-wondered wh-wh-what it'd be l-l-like to b-b-be a r-r-real p-p-performer."
Boy she didn’t know the half of it. “It’s fun, I can tell you that. But it was hard for a while. I ran away from Drogheda, Ireland, north of Dublin, the most boring town known to man, to go down to the Big Easy. I had gotten an old bass guitar as payment for a job in my Father’s gun shop, and wanted to play in one of them jazz bands, Make music, ya know? Only…Forgot that everything cost something, ended up on the streets, playing bass guitar on every street corner for people’s goodwill and pocket change.

Lily smiled as she listened to his story. She had been right! He was similar. Strange how all who wandered were not quite lost. It was nice to meet another wanderer. She had been lost so long she'd forgotten what it was like to have direction. Maybe he had a purpose here too. She could always ask. He might bring it up himself. Then he said something that made her eyes light up with a mixed reaction. Curiosity, hope, joy. So he was a troubadour like she wondered about becoming. She'd always wondered if she'd be any good. Jezzie had said she would and even encouraged and taught her. To hear other troubadours began on street corners like she'd done today was something she never could have imagined.

A sound bubbled in her throat and rose into a sweet sound she hadn't released in many years. A musical laugh fluttered from her lips sweet as honey. She looked at Cyrus with awe and wonder. They weren't terribly different, different lyrics to similarly sad songs of life but still in essence quite harmonic. She didn't mind that he was different, he was still quite the same. She stifled herself to a giggle and graced him with a star struck smile. "W-w-would you believe I just finished singing on the street corner a while ago?" Her first words tumbled from her lips but something else seemed to break away as she immersed herself in his presence. Her words became a soft flow, a steady rhythm as she looked at the man she hoped she could call her friend.

Maybe they could join up sometime and put on a better show? No, he probably wouldn't be too interested in her eclectic taste of musics outside of jazz. Maybe he would? No, it wouldn't be right to bother him any more than she had. He was already keeping her in great company and spirits. "It's nice you know. To meet a fellow wanderer that is. I mean, u-um.." she tripped over her words again and folded her hands in her lap as her mask began to fall back into place and she felt out of her element again. She shouldn't have said it, he wasn't a wanderer, he was a troubadour and she already regretted voicing the thought.

There it was again, that smile. The one she let slip through the cracks in the mask she kept over her her face. Cyrus wasn't against masks of this type, lord knows he of anyone could understand that sometimes you think that the point of life is to learn to deal with the consequences of the bad decisions we make. But you don't want people to see that, to see you like that, your heart on your sleeve. Thats why he was so happy when those genuine smiles broke through. Everyone needs a little happiness in their lives, even if its just something as small as someone to talk to.

Laughter bubbled up from her throat, like a lithe and musical geyser of laughter as she looked at him, Curiosity and excitement shining in her eyes. She seemed to be intrigued by the Irishman, while asking about his music. Was she a musician too, he wondered. With a voice like her's she could be a singer...

"W-w-would you believe I just finished singing on the street corner a while ago?"

So she was! It made sense, She had a wonderfully musical voice. It would be a shame for such a gift to not see the light of day. And he'd heard her voice earlier, a light song floating above the droning crowd.He had wondered at the time who it was. Now he knew. Maybe they could do a gig together, her singing mixed with his bass. Get a guitar and some drums and you got yourself a regular band. Maybe a saxophone too. Sax goes with everything.

[color=40A0FF"It's nice you know. To meet a fellow wanderer that is. I mean, u-um.."[/color]

She seemed to stumble over her words, the stutter that signaled her return to shyness coming back with a vengeance. She seemed...frightened, her hands in her lap, her head down as that Meche' mask came back over her face. She was...afraid that she'd misspoke. It seemed like she didn't want to offend him.

No, no, cher, you got it right , Cyrus spoke, a little softer, trying to be comforting. He didn't want her to retreat back into her shell. I've done my fair share of wandering. Aren't we all wanderers, rats in a maze, turning left for whatever reason, trying to find whatever it is we are searching for... Aren't we all wanderers?

Lily smiled up at the kind Irishman with shining eyes and the mask crumbled completely as her emotions burst the gates. She threw her arms around his middle in a hug and kept her head down. She hid the tears that filled her eyes. How could he be so nice to her? She wasn't sure she understood how anyone could be as nice as him. Were humans really so bad for witches? He didn't seem so. She sniffled softly and buried her face in his side.

"Not a-a-all who wander a-a-are lost. I-I-" She choked on a sob and clung even tighter. She wasn't a wanderer, she was just lost. He'd known where he was going, she never had any idea where to go or what to do. She'd simply survived, existed, and tried to find something she didn't even have a name for. Was she looking for hope? The broken shell of her heart begged to be put back together but she just didn't know how to fix it.

She pushed back the tears as much as she could. "I-I-I will n-n-never underst-stand wh-wh-why everyone h-h-here is so k-k-kind." She sniffled and pulled away to wipe her eyes with a smile on her face despite the emotional stains on her cheeks. "I-I-I've never once h-h-had anyone be th-th-this nice t-t-to m-m-me b-b-before." She wasn't crying because she was sad, quite the opposite really.

She wasn't used to such nicety, not from anyone. She was used to hiding away from people. She was used to running at the sound of foot steps. She was used to crying when people tried to talk to her. She'd never given herself the time to heal, nobody had ever been able to get passed her tear soaked shell of shyness and fear. This was the first time in so many years she had actually taken the initiative to talk to someone on her own. She grinned up at him and hugged his arm comfortably. "You kn-kn-know, you're the f-f-first person I've had th-th-the courage to t-t-talk to since I r-r-ran away." Her voice still trembled a bit but her stutter cleared a little as she grew a bit more comfortable in his presence.

She sighed softly and pulled a pink ribbon from her sleeve to dab at her eyes with like a handkerchief. "I-I-I'm sorry, I-I-I d-d-don't mean to w-w-worry you with my t-t-tears. I'll b-b-be o-o-okay." She turned brimming eyes up at the Irishman sincerely. "P-p-promise." She wondered if he'd act as Mikhail had when she cried. Would he be sad that had started crying? She hoped she hadn't depressed him.

She seemed surprised by his actions, her eyes widening slightly as he tried to comfort her.Had he said something wrong? He really hoped not. He had only been trying to help her. He didn't like seeing people in internal pain. It wasn't the physical wounds that hurt the most, but the ones that made you bleed internally, that made you want to rip your heart out and just not care. But you couldn't. Not really. You just forget for a little while longer. He knew how that felt, firsthand. He didn't want anyone else to have to feel like that. He'd only been trying to help

She burst into tears as she wrapped her hands around his torso, her head down. Oh, crap! He had upset her, said something wrong. He didn't know what it was, but he had to do something. He reached over, trying to fix whatever mistake he'd made that had caused this.

But...It didn't seem like she was sad. She had her head buried in his chest, so he wasn't quite sure, but event though she was crying, she didn't seem sad... She seemed happy.

"Not a-a-all who wander a-a-are lost. I-I-" She stopped to cry some more, clutching tighter to his chest. I-I-I will n-n-never underst-stand wh-wh-why everyone h-h-here is so k-k-kindI-I-I've never once h-h-had anyone be th-th-this nice t-t-to m-m-me b-b-before."

He placed his hand on her as she continued to cry into his shirt. He looked up at the clock tower. It said he was late for class. He ignored it. This was by far more important. He knew what she meant. He had seen people walk right by a starving man on the street, twice a day, without ever batting an eyelash. They would pass by children, dirty in the streets, and not even care. Yes, people could be cruel. But they could be kind too. He tried to be like that.

"You kn-kn-know, you're the f-f-first person I've had th-th-the courage to t-t-talk to since I r-r-ran away."

HE had been the first? Wow. He felt flattered. But why him? And where had she run away from? Her family? Were they why she was afraid of people? Cyrus began to ask, but stopped himself. Time and place, he thought to himself. If she wants me to know, she'll tell me. How would he feel if someone dug into his past, began to ask about his family? No, her buisness was her own.

She stemmed the tears for a moment, looking up and dabbing her eyes with a pink piece of cloth she had with her. "I-I-I'm sorry, I-I-I d-d-don't mean to w-w-worry you with my t-t-tears. I'll b-b-be o-o-okay." She looked up at him, her eyes still tearful "P-p-promise." . Though her face said she was done crying. Which was good, cause his favorite shirt was soaked through. He would deal with it though. He always had.

He smiled back at her. It's a good thing the first person you talked to has a spare shirt at home He winked at her to let her know that he was joking. [color-6000BF]"Not all of us are extremely nice here, but a lot of us are. We just...try. Try to help our fellow man, try to be good people. And try to make people happy.[/color]