OC Trading Post

If she had any choice in the matter, poor Dolores would just flood the child (ghost) with gifts, then just... Allow her to go on her way when the cold subsided, and her mother returned. That was proper of a babysitter, right? Not that the older woman called herself a "babysitter" by any means, oh no!

She was a maid through and through, for that was what she was called for the vast majority of her adult life (and perhaps her formative years too) - no length of retirement - nor support she got from her newfound friends - was going to uproot her from what was essentially the very core of her mentality (unfortunately).

"I... I really don't know whether I should be asking this," admitted the old woman with a bashful laugh, "but... You're one who considers yourself adorable... Right?" Okay, bad question. Dolores did think children were cute, even if they were saturated with all of the cutesy shit that'd repel anyone except the most trusting, the most generous of folks. "You pride yourself in how you look. Your mother must take good care of you, huh?" Her voice sank into a coo before she took a step towards the other party.

From the background, the faintest whiff of chocolate could be detected coming from the oven. Brownies. Just as the girl had requested. In all honesty, the elder had no idea how the pastry worked and had to ask one of her neighbors about it (always the risk endeavor considering her social status), though as she considered how the child would feel after taking up one of those treats, Dolores felt... At ease. With a small smile, she took a smaller step back and carefully ran her fingers through her hair, all while keeping track of the time the brownies were spending in the oven.

"You know, though..." mused Dolores as her smile thinned slightly, "I think... I think it'd be a shame if some of those brownie crumbs and pieces got onto your clothes. You're a refined girl, aren't you?" Goodness, it was so stupidly difficult for the older woman to not start devolving into baby talk, but... Maybe the fact that the girl was literally her exact height kept her speaking in relatively normal cadence. It was... A bit jarring considering that the girl was literally supposed to be nine years in age - as claimed by both the girl and her mother - but Dolores kept her mouth shut on that. She was in no position to question it anyhow.

Instead, she proposed somewhat awkwardly, "So... How about... In exchange for some brownies, you get to put some of your bows aside for a bit? I... I think that could work." Her hands started to wring while she inched towards the kitchen, sensing that the brownies were starting to dry out. "Besides, I think it'd be a shame if they got dirtied, and then your mother knew. Even if chocolate isn't a relatively bad medium in that regard..." she added carefully, before reaching the oven - then opening the door to let those brownies stop baking. "... Just... Just in case, you know? It's for your sake, miss. You're not getting a brownie until you put down the bows."

Worse offers were made. But better ones could've been made too.

Dolores's cake business grows. maybe?? follow-up time.

Michael, folding a hand under his chin, a picture of the thinking man. What can he trade with her, he means he knows what he want, the problem is he is actually knows about the exchange rate differences here? 

Sooooo, can we dicuss about me take a part in a deal with your company? Normally that will do. Oh gosh he's trying to buy Dolores's whole company, well, if she have one, she doesn't look like she have one either. 

"I tasted your chocolate cake before. Usually I will refuse too much calories, but the tasty sweet and bitter balanced dark brown fellow of your woo me" Michael say evenly, stop for a second chewing another piece of chocolate cake slice, doesn't aware of a little chocolate stucks at the end of his lips. He more like a kid was given some sweet treats from their grandmy in this view. Even how much adult he grow into, there's still a child lives in his heart.

"I like this." At least shallow your food before speaking, are you a kid, oh wait, he is now. He finally gulped, swinging the fork, still not realized the chocolate on his mouth. "I sure that my men need some treats after their hard work for me, and I'm pretty sure that your stuffs are suitable for what am I looking."

He doesn't buy that much cakes before, when he do like something in enough amount, he will buy a whole brand. Name your price, doesn't much what Michael will say.

"I'm a fair businessman, make sure about both will having what we want. I can take care of the cooking ingredients, invest the material facilities for you until our deal end, making the more quality results." The teal haired helpfully adeed, "You're good at the level you're now, I want to see how better it can go." 

"Or you can just bake me another one and I will pay for it?" Yeh, that's simpler, the law of value, exchange goods at its fitness.

dgsghaadhhsshj dabbing here go the follow-up for these two because i vsbshsjsjsksnsjs

Salvador's breath formed small clouds. It was so terribly cold that the rain of previous days in the gutters had be turned into ice. With his hands deep in his pockets Salvador hastily made his way through the street. Some stolen wallets deep tucked away in the inner pockets of his jacket. A small fur hat rested on his head, that almost toppled over when the thief had halted his steps directly. Arse.
He'd spotted Michael just a few meters away. Salvador wanted to turn around and dive into the nearest back alley he could find but the sharp dressed Michael had already spotted him as well and smiled. Oh-no.
Like a child that was caught red handed near the candy-jar Salvador shuffled his way over to Michael.
"Oy," he simply stated. When the musician asked him what he was doing out here in the dead of winter, Salvador rolled his shoulders in a shrug.
"The usual," He said deflecting. "You know," he made a stabbing hand gesture. Then frowned. "At wallets not people," he cleared up. Showing the other party this small shank resting deep in his sleeve.  "Neat-o righ?" he asked.
"You look terrible." Unprompted and uncalled for.

"I mean, terrible as in cold. Like you're shivering," Salvador explained. "Don't you like the cold? Or ice?" He asked. When Micheal told him that he couldn't bear the cold Salvador nodded in agreement. Salvador didn't mind the cold himself. It was the ice he disliked. Made climbing harder you know. Ever tried to run away from the Jakes while half of the path was frozen? Wouldn't recommend it.
"Well," Salvador said. Before slowly removing the small fur hat from his head and rubbed the edges of it with his thumb. The warmth and pelt of the hat had made his hair static. If Salvador knew what a radio was you could call him an radio antenna but for now the joke will flat on its face. Like Salvador that one time he ran away from the Citywatch, while the path was frozen.
"I got this hat," he said. Lifting it up. As if Michael hadn't seen such fashion-disaster of a hat. "It keeps your head warm." Salvador smiled and held it out for the other party, but reinforced his grip on it. "We can trade."
Of course he wasn't going to give it away for free. Have you seen him.

"For a few bars of soap? I mean you," Salvador said while chinning in Michael's face. "smell okay. Bet it's soap you use," the thief said. Holding out his hat. "I don't need those bars right away but you can drop them off by the Old Chapel. I live there," Salvador said. He smiled. "We don't have a lot of soap," figured as you smell like rat-ass little man.

--

Salvador that lived in a time of oil lamps and steam-trains, had never éver in his life seen something lighten up before. Awe and blown away he stared at the simple device, too scared to even hold it. What if he broke it? No way.. This thing would be simply too valuable.
"W..What do you want for it? I got some wallets?" he asked, Nervously too. But unlike Anya , Salvador wasn't nervous about speaking but nervous about losing this once in your life time opportunity. Oh how jealous everyone would be of him!
"I got some fresh goat milk.. Some cheese too, oh, how about pears hu? How about all three of those things and more?"

No one wanted to travel hundreds of miles for nothing. The city was intimidating, with dim lanternlight barely illuminating the cobblestone below, the streets on this side of town barren. Usually, Nerine traveled to smaller villages to get what she needed, but this time she insisted to herself -- and to her acquaintance -- that they go somewhere more populated. As populated as this place could even be considered, as not a single person walked the road, and the only sound was that of distant hoofbeats and a dog's incessant yapping. Waiting by the road, back against a stone building, Nerine waited, and hoped this wouldn't be a waste.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at the cobble, the sound of footsteps drew her out of her thoughts. She looked up, finding a younger woman traversing the road. The researcher was a woman, right..?

"You must be Madame Moon," said Nerine, hoisting herself off the wall and approaching the other party, as if the atmosphere wasn't needlessly ominous, "I hope the trip wasn't hard on you. I only invited you here so I could talk to you about an exchange -- nothing too major, I'd hope. It's what needs to be done, you know?"

"But, don't worry." she quickly added, "I'm not asking for your... turret, or whatever. I wouldn't even know what to do with it." When she thought 'turret', she thought huge ass towers, not... robots. She didn't even know what a robot was. "It's more about your boss, rather. I hear that she's a complete lunatic, no offense, or... well, offense to her, but not to you. I've my fair share of lunatics already, though, and if I have to deal with one more, I think it'll do me in."

If she was correct, the woman's co-worker was a psychologist of sorts. Such things didn't interest Nerine, but it did others.

"If there are any you can get to, I'd like a copy or several of any papers she might have in regards to her studies. Essays, notes, anything of the like." Nerine stepped closer to Anya, reaching into the satchel strapped to her waist. She pulled out... a tiny robot. A tiny, battered, and incredibly dead robot. Wait a goddamn minute.

"I found this statuette in a tomb I was crawling around in." she said, "It's pretty much useless to me."

nerine offers thanksgiving turkey to brown.

TH miiiight format my response as a bit long, so you know what time it is. spoiler box time.

yoooo for a first reply in a writing thread, that was really nice to read?? it was pretty eloquently written, and I rather liked how you characterized Brown, Skinner, and their overall dynamic.

here's my follow-up!! ty for the lovely response once more- ^^

(This is my first time participating in a writing thread so forgive me if it turns out rather crude >~<)

Aedrielle clutched her satchel close to her, the action earning a response of a chorus of clinking glass from the assortment of home-made remedies and oddities stored away in it. Her outings into a town where few and far between, but occasionally she would grow restless in her forest and on a whim decide to venture into the closest urban area to gather new trinkets and search for new interesting recipes. By the time her feet stepped rhythmically across the worn stones of the road, an impending sense of dread filled her stomach. She always felt uneasy in towns because it reminded her of her village...and well it's best we not delve into a tragic backstory flashback at the moment but let's just say it wasn't a happy ending. 

anyways...

She straightened her shoulders and an easy smile stretched over her face, as she pushed down her doubt and instead searched the crowds with watchful eyes in hopes of finding a trading opportunity. Her gaze locked on a woman who seemed to be trapped in an unpleasant conversation with a rather creepy looking aristocrat. She approached the 2 from behind and touched the woman gently on the arm before looking up for the man. "Sorry, I do not wish to interrupt but I shall be taking this opportunity to discuss very important matters with this young woman, if you don't mind." She offered her kindest smile, something so pure and sweet upon her motherly face that the man nodded with a scoff and offered no protest against her kidnapping. 

"Well, he seemed rather unpleasant, don't you think?" She said with a wink, before offering that they both sit on a near bye bench. "My apologies for bothering you ma'am, but you seemed like a very interesting woman in a very uninteresting conversation, so i was hoping we could partake in a little exchange." She opened the worn leather satchel  in her lap and tilted it toward the woman, giving her view of the various glass jars and a special wrapped parcel. This was what she was here for. She removed the parcel and unwrapped it, revealing a necklace made up of delicately carved and painted bone beads. 

creepy....but charming i suppose.

"It is a shame to let he remains of the forest go unnoticed, seeing that they are so beautiful. I've made this myself in hopes to give their souls a new life, but I'm afraid these beads just don't suit me. I was hoping to trade it along and leave it in the care of someone who would cherish it and give it a good home." She held out the necklace, allowing the other woman to take it and inspect it. "As for what could be offered in return, I am open to whatever you decide fit. I do particularly cherish divine new teas to try, or perhaps an uncommon new herb to examine...." Her mouth was almost watering at the thought of a new brew warming her hands through the mug as she enjoyed the sunlight peeking through the forest. A tea fanatic at it's finest.

"So... You knew my mother when she was younger, huh?" parsed Walker carefully with a frown, "Why am I not surprised?"

She could've said that better. She really could've. From the start, it was rather obvious that her voice was tinged with bitterness, though... Unlike the usual sort of mommy issues that arose whenever Brown was brought up, the middle-aged woman just seemed more pensive than genuinely defensive. Maybe it was because they were both in a verdant wood, and both parties could feel relaxed to some degree; birds chirped and flew amongst the trees, yet the occasional buzz from dragonflies and bees added a sort of variety into an otherwise potentially generic nature scene.

It reminded Walker of her childhood, albeit the squeaky-clean part excluding all the angst that would've marred it, and she was... Content. If that was all the middle-aged woman could remember from the time when she was a girl, when her mother would let her travel through the woods every so often- Wait a minute. Walker's previously emerging smile suddenly disappeared in an instant.

"Not that it is a bad thing, of course," the aristocrat mused with a sniff, before carefully stepping over a tree root, "She just had... A lot of associates in spite of her supposedly reserved nature, I suppose..." And that made her stomach twist. Brown was careful to hide much of this information from her, even after Walker became an adult, and yet... The virago had managed to accumulate not only a decent following of not-children, but also... A lover? So she wasn't as heartless as the legends often made her to be, and yet... Walker couldn't shake away the image of claws and fangs... And when she looked over at the accompanying trees, she thought she saw a wolfish figure weaving its way through the trunks for a second.

Heaving out a sigh, Walker found herself leaning against a trunk before grunting, "But that asides... The reason that I came here is not for nostalgia. If that were the case, I would have stayed in the city." Or maybe not. She remembered spending much of her childhood in the city anyway; and, again, her stomach twisted and turned... "I came here to make an offer, though I do promise that the offer in question involves that shrew in one way or another."

Carefully, Walker looked over at her pockets before pulling out what appeared to be... A bag of chocolate chip cookies? Just the plastic bag alone was enough to indicate that Walker had bought this shit from a store, yet her thumb still gently traced the edges of the plastic tie like she somehow prized this item.

"I brought these in from the city," droned the middle-aged woman while holding the bag out for the other party to take, "I have no idea whether you wander there often, but I figure that takings treks through the forst must be physically exhausting. Sweets in general tend to be adequate for providing short-term bursts of energy..." She paused and rubbed her chin with her other hand. "I only ask for information in exchange. Information about my son, if you have seen him. You know... He comes to these places here sometimes to 'study,' so... I suppose you may have seen him around before then, yes?"

Walker fucking implodes over her bird getting stolen. follow-up time.

Maribelle was rather simple. Other than dogs [and bugs, but shhh], she liked animals. That was where Walker came in -- the woman was, sadly, visiting the estate of the child's father. Maribelle wasn't interested in the aristocrat as much as she was in her creatures -- in particular, the woman's bird. The last time she tried to steal someone's animals ended terribly, or at least terribly by her own description, because she almost never got scolded for being a little shit. Because she almost never got scolded, however, she appeared to have also never fucking learned.

So, she gathered as many fruits as she could possibly carry into a woven basket underneath her bed, and got to work.

Once again, how she whisked the beast away was not important.

Maribelle shoved a cluster of grapes at the skarmory's metal beak, praying to all twenty gods that it wouldn't lash out and claw the shit out of her. It was a beautiful animal, but those talons were horrifying.

"Please just eat this..." She pleaded to the disinterested bird, but to no avail. She dropped the grapes in the basket, and then pulled out a lemon wedge to hold out to the animal instead. "I worked very hard to get all of this, and you're being a whiny jerk--"

She cut herself off when the door to her room swung open, whipping around to come face-to-face with the bird's owner. Somewhere down the corridor, she could hear her father call her name. Goddamn it, not this shit again.

She glared up at Walker, stepping closer to the bird, panic swelling up in her chest. She grabbed the sides of the creature's face, and after a few moments. "I have all kinds of jewelry in my vanity." she said, her voice trembling as she just barely mustered the courage to be a bitch to this poor woman, "Just take it, and-- and sell it, and buy your own bird." As if that fucking bird in her room didn't belong to the visiting aristocrat. "This is mine now. It's not my fault you weren't paying any attention to it."

Flavio would be ashamed to know that his bloodline turned out like this.

maribelle learns how to be even more of an asshole.

"I heard about your entanglements during your travels," grunted Rochester with a scowl, though technically, the witch-hunter didn't even need to travel that far from Skinner's manor to Rochester's residence at the time. Sure, she had a habit of moving around to different "stations" depending on what she was studying at which time, but alas alas. The middle-aged woman took out a map she had furled up until now, setting it on the table with a thud being unfolding it and pointing at one of the northerly regions: surrounded by mountains and crags.

"I expected you to be from here, if I remember correctly," she recounted with a raised brow, and yet... Her finger dragged itself through the map until it reached a more southerly part. Dry, flat, and dusty. Oh, and occasio0nally windy, but when said winds tended to be rather hot... Did they really help with the almost arid climate? "But my reconnaissance has told me that you mainly have been here," Rochester remarked, "which tends to be infested with heat waves. Which is sort of counterintuitive considering your rather northern-style clothing, but..."

She shrugged, asking rhetorically just moments later, "Who am I to judge?" And... Frankly, Rochester really wasn't that wrong.

Nonetheless, the scientist huffed with crossed arms, "Besides... You probably will not stay here for long. Hopefully, you will get away from these hotblooded aristocrats soon. They're rather fucking feisty folk, if you ask me. You would be much better off, well, going back to your usual refuge, rather than spend so much time here, but..." Rochester trailed off, her gaze seemingly fixed on the other's rosary beads for a second- Then she shook her head and straightened her position, her eyes fluttering carefully while scanning the table between them.

"But... Maybe I am underestimating you, sir. Maybe you are here, and not up north, because you actually want something to stimulate that brain of yours."

With a chuckle, Rochester rubbed the back of her neck and made her admission: "Well... I have to confess that I admire such a trait. So... Here's a deal." The middle-aged woman leaned in slightly, a small smile forming on her face while she stared down at the other's charred, almost withered up fingers. Like branches... "You can give me some information about Skinner and maybe that, uh, wife of his... And I can give you some stimulation for that brain of yours," she proposed, "I promise it will be worth your time. Just... Be patient. Sometimes the most interesting of challenges tend to be rather slow." Yea, but that was vague as fuck, so was Rochester really helping herself?

Though... Maybe it didn't matter. Rochester glanced over her shoulder to the entryway, presumably where Beatrice stood nearby. She knew that the other was more likely to use a gun than a blade, but... If push came to shove... Brains would have to switch to brawn - though that'd be left unsaid... For now.

NP may get a follow-up from me if I'm not busy from college work!!

Buck had a lot of things to trade. Mostly the items were lumber or silver axes, but this time he held a small bag in his paw. The bag was just labeled "Malty Old Necklace", whoever Malty was apparently had an old necklace that was being traded. He walked around for a while before he put one paw in his jean pocket. "Hm." He muttered, Buck sighed before walking around for about another 30 or so minutes, finally seeing Rochester with a slight smile. Quickly walking beside her, he spoke after one second of not speaking.

"Excuse me, I have a necklace that might fit you. It's from my daughter, Malty, and it looks rather beautiful." He quickly opened the bag and laid the necklace out in his paw. It had a golden chain, a ruby pendant, and a silver pendant of a tree. "My daughter has no real use for it anymore, as she doesn't wear it and even said she wouldn't mind it being traded away or sold for some money," Buck stated. "I felt that you'd want it." He smiled again, putting the necklace in the bag. "I can give it to you just like this if you wish, I wouldn't mind."

Magnolia had little to need or want. Other people, however...

The woman seemed a little bedraggled, but the woods did that to a person, she supposed, as she unwittingly ventured into the forest where Buck lived. And now, situated in his log cabin, she continued to look absolutely miserable. At least she mustered up the energy to speak to him, and did so rather quietly, "This is a nice cottage, dear sir. It's... well, it's cozy." And she wasn't just making that up! If it were in a nice part of the city instead of being hidden amongst the trees and other wildlife, she reckoned she would be right at home here.

"But, um." She ran her fingers through her tousled hair, seeming to grow more tired by the second. "I was hoping that you would be open to a proposal of sorts. I was sent this way to make the arrangement, but I'm not sure if you heard about that... Ah, here, wait."

Slouching down, she gathered her satchel in front of her and pulled out... paper money. The bills were white, printed with the portrait of an older man wearing glasses.

"Well, I'm hoping you might be swayed by money," she said, "If it'd also be of even a little interest for you to take on a job as a builder in the area where I've come from. It'll only be for a little while, and you will be paid handsomely, but there... is a demand for another house in the garden. They've cleared the land and everything, but a few of the workers dropped out at the last minute, and--" She shuddered, and then forced a laugh. "If you don't do this, we're going to be down even more workers. This is only a fraction of the money you will receive in exchange! ..Oh, Gods, please accept, dear sir, because if I come back empty-handed, I'm going to get yelled at."

Oh no. Being yelled at by your boss is sooooo terrible.

QUICK FOLLOW-UP TIME.

„Oh! You have an N64?” The demon asked, noticing the device in Aris’ possession, “What games do you have? Do you have… what’s it called… that one game where the moon is falling? Or that one about a plumber, saving a princess? Or… Can I just see your collection?”

Looking over some game, Ace said, “I’ve read about all these games, but never got to play them myself…” After thinking about it for a moment, she asked, “Would you trade it for something? Wait, let me try to find something nice for you…” She wrapped herself in her cape and suddenly disappeared. A moment later, she was back, holding various magic trinkets she didn’t need herself.

Laying out out the trinkets, she said, “So, I have a pair of anklets that slow you down if you fall from a high place, gloves that can control electricity, to some extent, a pair of bracelets that let either wearer see through the other one’s eyes, a lot of useful stuff…”

Remembering some other things she forgot about, she said, “Oh and one more thing, this one less useful but more cute.” She pulled out a silk sweater and said, “How about a sweater that can change colors? And patterns too! Here, hold it.” She pushed the sweater into Aris’ hands and said, “Just hold it tight and try to imagine what color or pattern you want.”

NP:

Follow-up coming soon.