#thomas001

location: Port Vale Mermaid Museum time: just before closing time

To say that Gemma disliked her job at the mermaid museum’s gift shop would be an understatement. She’d intentionally selected the job with the thought that it would have enough mental downtime to allow her to think of other things, but it turned out that didn’t mean she’d been prepared for how tedious it would be. Restock this, wipe down that. Ring up the customers, who attempted to engage her in banal conversation far more often than she’d like. Of course, the position did come with some advantages over other human jobs. Being in close working proximity to Mellora and Thomas meant that she was able to keep an eye on both, and she had inroads to influencing both mermaid and hippocampus viewpoints, if she ‘played her cards right’ as the humans said. And of course, the fact that none of her coworkers were human meant that  she could actually ask any questions she had without fear of giving away that she knew less on a subject than a human ought to. 

As it happened, she had one of those questions now - so when she caught sight of Thomas walking by the gift shop, she gestured for him to come over. She could have come to him, she supposed, but she knew that there was no one currently in the gift shop besides her - who knew if that was the case for the rest of the museum? And besides, she wasn’t supposed to leave the gift shop while she was working anyways, and there were still a few minutes left before the museum closed. “Hey, quick question,” she began, waiting for him to come closer before continuing. “What’s our stance on haggling? Someone who was in here earlier kept trying to tell me she’d give me $10 for a $14 mug. That’s... weird, right?” She still didn’t have a perfect handle on how human money worked. From what she could tell though, establishments tended to expect humans to pay the listed price for what they were offering.

It was uncommon for Wen to feel comfortable around people before getting to know them intimately. Perhaps it helped that he knew Yicheng thought very highly of Prince Thomas; more likely, it was because of a very pleasant conversation they had shared about poetry. Wen loved art in all of its forms, and it was one of the few topics upon which he would speak easily and at length. 

So it was that the two came to be sitting in the gardens of Chateau de Fontainebleau, wrapped in warm cloth to ward off the biting chill of winter, with a view to composing a little verse. It was a quiet pursuit, not one that lent itself to social bonding, but sometimes Wen preferred that, to sit quietly in another’s company and enjoy their presence. Perhaps it came of being a twin: he and Lijuan could communicate without the need for words, and though he knew he would never share that bond with another, he had become a quieter person for it.

With all the necessary greetings out of the way, Wen began setting up his calligraphy instruments, first setting aside his inkstone -- his favourite one, carved in the shape of a turtle. Lost as he was in quiet focus, he still spared a glance to Thomas, who had no inkstone at all but instead a bottle of prepared ink. Wen gasped, an expression somewhere between genuine surprise and mock horror. “The prince is cheating. The ink is already prepared! I have never heard of such a thing.”

Coming ashore for the first time in a land visit was always tricky. At least with Port Vale though, Mike had an advantage - he’d been here before, so he knew where to go to get his hands on the basics. Once he looked the part in some totally not suspicious human clothes, he made his way through town and on over toward Isidore’s place. As he walked, his thoughts drifted to the dreams that had led him here. Mike had a tendency to go where his dreams seemed to guide him, even if he didn’t fully get why they were pointing in any particular direction. Port Vale made enough sense - more sense than a lot of his decisions seemed to on the face, if he was being honest. With the mermaid and siren leaders gathering there, he’d figured it would only be a matter of time before he’d wind up joining the crowd. And while parts of what he’d dreamt made just as much sense - Gaya being there, for instance - there were other parts he was still trying to puzzle out. There were important pieces missing, he was sure of it. Didn’t have the faintest idea of what those pieces might be, but that was alright. 

No sooner than he had that thought, he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd and stopped short. No way. Was that...? It couldn’t be. He squinted - either the world was playing a super freaky, messed up trick on him, or it was. “Thomas? Is that really you, bud?” Not waiting for an answer, he wrapped the man in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you, man. I thought you were --” he cut off, eyes watering with emotion. “Where - where’ve ya been?”

One of the stranger parts of Mike’s job was the fact that the place where he lived was nine hours behind the place where he worked. Between that and the lack of windows in Traceless cafe, it wasn’t uncommon for him to lose track of what time it was - despite the clocks on one of the cafe’s walls displaying the time of day in various parts of the world. He was having one of those time-uncertain moments when the door opened. He shifted his attention away from the clocks he’d been about to check and over to the possible customer, smiling in greeting when he saw who it was “Oh, hey man! Can I get ya anything? Your usual?” Mike suggested. People coming into Traceless cafe didn’t always order anything - the place was a stop on the way to Traceless village (not to mention a hub to a ton of other places), but Thomas stuck around and grabbed something to drink often enough that it didn’t feel like he was really going out on a limb making the suggestion.