paixaorpg | The Mechanic and the Princess [Active]

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The Mechanic and the Princess [Active]

Character(s): Cid Highwind and Yorda
Content: Yorda meets Cid.
Setting: Cid's shop
Time: Afternoon
Warnings: Knowing Cid, foul language.

It was a warm and mellow afternoon, and Yorda had been walking about the city as usual. She hadn't seen Cora, Hamel, or Sonic in a while, and the shadow that had chased her wasn't around - nor, thankfully, were its fellows. The girl walked over to the place where she had met Sonic and sat down on the pavement, watching the glittering city and the people going by.

She wondered if she was going to see them again; the boy who had saved her hadn't, after all, appeared anywhere within the city, as far as Yorda knew. She sighed a little, missing him, but was mostly content to stay in the artificial sunlight of the domed city.

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For Cid, the day had started out like any other. Which is to say he'd been splitting his time between keeping an eye on the shop and working on his own personal projects. Even if he didn't have his airship here with him like hell was he going to let the city keep him away from the sky forever. Mind, it hadn't been going particularly well, but that had never stopped Cid before and it sure as hell wasn't going to now.

On the other hand, he was about ready for a break when he spotted someone just sitting on the pavement. Damned strange if you asked him. And that meant he might as well look into into, poking his head out the door of the shop.

"You gonna just sit there all day?"

Yorda merely looked curiously at the strange, rugged-looking man for a few moments. What was that on his face? The girl stepped forward and reached out a slender hand to touch his cheek and maybe find out what it was. "Who are you?" she asked before gesturing to the building. "What is that place?"

There was a brief moment of stunned silence at the kid reaching up to feel at his face, but after a moment he wrote it off as likely being some... bizarre ritual or something. Still weird as all hell, but he'd gotten pretty damned used to weird over the course of his stay in the city.

"Cid," he answered. "This is my shop."

There was something on the older man's face that made it... fuzzy. Yorda rubbed Cid's cheek curiously a few times before pulling away, a confused look on her face. She had never seen anything like that before. "What is that?" asked the glowing girl.

"A shop..." Yorda continued, murmuring to herself. SHe looked at the man curiously. "What is a shop?"

Well, now wasn't that just something. He could understand curiosity, but this... hell if he knew the reason for this. At least not without resorting to things that barely made sense and hell if he was gonna deal with that.

"Stubble. Y'know, like you get when you haven't shaved in a while?"

Or well, not, because she wouldn't have had to shave but she had to have had a father, or so Cid was figuring.

"It's a place to buy things."

Yorda's reasoning was simple; she was curious about things she had never seen, and stubble was one of them. The boy had certainly never had it, and the thought of it being on the Queen almost made Yorda laugh for some reason. As it was, the girl gave Cid a bright smile and giggled a little.

"I do not have stubble," she replied, nearly tripping over the last, unfamiliar word. She didn't have a father. She didn't know what a father was, as her mother had never explained anything but her apparent destiny (to be her mother's spiritual vessel). She didn't know what buying was either, and her next question made that evident. "Buy?"

More thing she didn't know? Where the hell had the kid grown up all her life? Not that she wasn't a nice enough kid, but it was damned odd if you asked him.

"Cause you aren't a man," he answered. Apparently she'd never seen a grown man before, or at least not one that had had to go without shaving. Clearly she'd grown up in a cave or something.

"Uh. Purchase. Pay for?"

Yorda took a step back, removing her hand from the older man's face as she did. She had never seen a grown man before - those who came to the castle had never been brave or foolish enough to stray further than the tombs, and although Yorda had known of their presence, she hadn't felt the need to speak to them - and even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't have dared.

"Oh!" That got a smile. Yorda knew what it was now. "Yes. Hamel told me about that." She had, after all, bought the occasional apple, watermelon, or loaf of bread.

Oh, so she wasn't completely ignorant. Good thing to, since he wasn't at all sure he'd have been able to explain it if she'd asked. It was just what you did.

And besides he wasn't some goddamned dictionary. Sure, he'd answer the damned questions, but only to the best of his ability. If she didn't like it she could just go and ask someone else.

"Right. That's what you do at shops. Buy things."

Yorda nodded, when a thought came to her. "Who are you?" she asked curiously, tilting her head. She had seen humans here, but she still wasn't entirely sure what they were. She had asked Hamel, but he'd never bothered to explain.

"I have just gotten food from these places," Yorda explained examining her hand for no particular reason. "I do not know what the rest of it is for." Just then, her stomach growled loudly, and she jumped, looking around her before realizing where it came from.

She still wasn't used to that.

Well. At least that was a normal enough question. "The name's Cid." He'd refrain from mentioning the bits about how he was one of the best pilots he knew - she hadn't asked (and probably would've asked what a pilot was) and it wasn't like he had a ship in the damned place.

Working on it, yes. But he hadn't gotten all that far, yet.

"Depends on what kind of store it is. Some of 'em sell weapons, some of 'em sell clothes... you just gotta know which kind you need." A pause as the rumble of her stomach echoed in the room. "And I think I can guess which one that is."

So many strange names! Of course, the glowing princess hadn't heard any names save her own until coming to this place. Cid was certainly right about Yorda not knowing what a pilot was - pilots simply didn't exist in her world (at least, not that she knew of). The only things that flew on her island had been the shadows and the birds. "It is nice to meet you," she said softly, smiling at the man.

A person could wear more than one set of clothing? Yorda stared at the older man, bemused. She hadn't known that. Her dress never got dirty or ripped, anyway - and even if it did, she wouldn't know what to do about it. She giggled at the man's words, shifting, not knowing enough to be embarrassed. She did forget to eat occasionally in her explorations, especially as the need for it was still very new to her.

Could and usually did, as a matter of fact. Clothes got dirty, or torn, or just plain smelled bad after long enough. At which point they then needed to be washed, and common decency meant that you had to have something to wear while the first set was in the wash.

But that wasn't important right now. She was hungry (apparently) and he did have some manner of food around the place.

"Well, go on. Sit down," he said, gesturing vaguely at one of the chairs strewn about the place. Now, where had he left the teakettle...?

Luckily for Yorda, her dress never did any of those things - most likely because her mother hadn't wanted to bother with giving her more than the bare essentials (why trouble herself when the girl had been set to die anyway?). Yorda didn't mind. She had never known anything else, and even here, it was unimaginable for Yorda to carry or own more than she needed.

Yorda nodded meekly and sat down in a chair, her hands neatly in her lap and her legs drawn back, kicking a little. "Thank you." It seemed only polite; this man was being kind to her.

Well, if it worked for her Cid wasn't going to complain. At least, not much and not about that. About any number of other things as and when they came up? Those he both could and would complain about to his heart's desire.

"I figure it's the least I can do," he grumbled from somewhere under the nearby sink. "Can't leave you to starve to death, after all."

It wasn't going to be more than sandwiches and tea, but food was food.

If Cid wanted to complain, Yorda wouldn't mind. She was unfamiliar with it, but she was someone who possessed near-infinite patience (as being locked in a cage tended to teach one this). She liked to help people, from what she knew of it, and would only be glad to provide what she would inevitably see as more help.

"There was no food on the island or in the castle," said the girl, by way of explanation. She blinked. "What is 'starve'?"

What was... How damned much was he going to explain. For the matter how had she survived on her island without food? A life of strict dieting didn't exactly do anyone any good, if he remembered right.

"Die of hunger," he answered, pulling the teakettle out from under the sink with a clatter.

And she had to know what hunger was, right?

Yorda hadn't known what hunger was until she left the island; no doubt her mother had put something in place to ensure her victims didn't die too quickly - or allow her daughter any sort of chance at escape. Yorda watched Cid, a frown on her face. "People... starve?" she asked, dismayed.

What a terrible thing to happen!

"If you go long enough without eating," Cid answered. 'Long enough' here being defined in terms of weeks, but that was a comparatively minor point just at the moment.

Of course, he could have explained further, had he wanted to. It was just that between setting the kettle to boil and puttering around looking for all the things that went into a halfway decent sandwich he was a little busy to bother explaining every damned thing into the process of starving, not to mention it was a fucking creepy topic in the first place.

Yorda nodded. "I will be careful to remember to eat," she said, toying with the hem of her dress. Starving sounded unpleasant, even if she didn't know the details of it - and she didn't want to bother Cid with such a sad topic of conversation. Yorda may have been unskilled in social niceties, but even she knew that death was an unpleasant subject to most.

"Good," Cid answered. He wasn't going to watch someone starve to death if he didn't have to. At least not someone who hadn't done anything apart from being damned odd. But hell, Vince had been odd too and he'd managed to get along fine with him.

...For a rather grump and profanity-laced definition of 'fine' bit that wasn't a surprise with him.

"Here," he added, heading back over to where Yorda was sitting and handing her the sandwich (it was on a plate, since well... why not). "That oughta do something about the hunger."

Yorda smiled. "Thank you," she said, gratefully accepting the plate, although she stared at it, being unsure of what it was. Was she supposed to eat it? It looked strange, but she would try it. The girl lifted the plate up to her mouth and nibbled delicately on it, being careful not to drop the sandwich.

It wasn't working. She lowered the plate to her lap again, blinking at it. "How do you eat this?" she asked, looking confusedly up at Cid.

Oh for... was she actually trying to eat the plate? Clearly no one had taught her the fine art of cookware. Nothing for it then. Looked like he'd have to play teacher for a bit longer.

"You eat the sandwich, not the damned plate," he answered, pointing at the separate pieces so as to better indicate which bit you ate and which you didn't. Hopefully it would manage to be enough.

Yorda nodded. "The damned plate cannot be eaten?" she asked, unaware that 'damned' was not part of its name. She picked up the sandwich and examined it curiously, turning it carefully over in her hands for a few moments before cautiously taking a bite.

The girl blinked and chewed, humming unconsciously; it was delicious.

"Right. You don't eat the plate."

Not unless you had a surprisingly good set of teeth and an equally impressive digestive system to go with it. Or a death wish. Ceramic wasn't really the best of things to ingest.

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The Mechanic and the Princess [Active]

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Hiatus can suck. ;~;

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Oh my God I didn't get the notice for this. DDD8 I'm sorry!

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