HERE WE GO

Whatever realtionships Crawl had formed due to bad circumstances didn't seem to be around anymore. Maybe he just had to wait longer to find people like that... Nevertheless he continued to smile at the other, content with listening to the older nomad's words. Then again, he couldn't listen to Slick if he stopped talking.

He was curious anyway, might as well ask...

"You have a partner then?"

He wasn't quite sure how to comfort someone, so Crawl offered some advice as well.

askmisterslick:

the-crawling-nomad:

Crawl hums, kinda, more so he was just making a noise to acknowledge the other’s reason behind the nickname. He took a moment to ponder how old the other was but ultimately decided to not ask. He rather not risk the older nomad asking his own age in return. If only because he’d have to guess his own age, which was, to say the least, embarrassing.

His line of thought shifts as the other thanks him, then begins speaking again.

Crawl nods in agreement, albeit slowly, he hadn’t actually gone to school so he’d just have to take Slick’s word on it.

He feels his lips twitch into a smile that’s nearly bordering on a smirk when he hears Slick’s last sentence. Crawl then raises a brow giving the other an exaggerated look up and down with his hands planted on his hips.

“Well, are you guilty of something?”

He pulls his mask down again, this time leaving the fabric to bunch up around his neck. Crawl then offers up an amused smile, a clear attempt to convey that he was joking.

Though he was admittedly curious about the salesman’s answer. Nobody led a perfect do-good life after all.

“Folks are sometimes surprised when they find out this li’l ol’ fella is older than he looks. They tend to think I’m in my late thirties. Guess it’s because of how active and energetic I am. I also made sure to look after myself too and kept myself healthy.” The salesman chuckled as he fiddled with his moustache.

Moments later, the joyful expression that was on Mr. Slick’s face disappeared. It was replaced with a stern and serious face.

“There are folks that believe salespeople are nothing but scoundrels or con-artists that rip people off. They believe a salesperson that aren’t outgoing and love the sound of their voice are fake. Why, ya might even hear nasty rumors about this li’l ol” fella being a con-artist that would steal from villains and sell the same goodies back to them at double the price.

Crawl’s smile morphs into a surprised little ‘o’ briefly, slightly caught off guard by the quick change in demeanor of the salesman. He would have thought the question would make the other uncomfortable rather then…well not quite angry…but he still felt as if he just treaded on something he shouldn’t.

He tries schooling his expression into something sympathetic, but he can’t quiet manage it. There’s a small stutter in his actions before he lets loose what’s hopefully a dismissive grin, along with a shrug for good measure.  

“That’s not so bad. What’s wrong with giving some bad dudes a hard time? Sounds kinda like that Robin Hood guy.”   

Yeah sure, Robin Hood, if well, you took out the whole ‘give to the poor’ thing and added profit. That sounded like a better story to him anyways. 

“Sorry, Li’l Crawl. This li’l fella sometimes takes it personally when folks feel that way towards salespeople.” The older nomad wore a sheepish grin as he gave the younger nomad a small shrug.

As he studied Crawl’s expression and the what he wrote, he gave a small sigh. 

“They also say that this li’l ol’ fella would cheat poor innocent folks as well. Thankfully, it would only be a handful that would say that. The villains can sometimes twist words to make it sound like ya are the bad guy.” He mused as he fiddled with his moustache.

Crawl was starting to consider pulling his mask back up when he hears Slick say something that drops his sorta-smile into a full blown grimace.

Careful who you anger...

Crawl's free hand rubs at his throat unconsciously, his face set in a uncomfortable frown.

Crawl hums, kinda, more so he was just making a noise to acknowledge the other’s reason behind the nickname. He took a moment to ponder how old the other was but ultimately decided to not ask. He rather not risk the older nomad asking his own age in return. If only because he’d have to guess his own age, which was, to say the least, embarrassing.

His line of thought shifts as the other thanks him, then begins speaking again.

Crawl nods in agreement, albeit slowly, he hadn’t actually gone to school so he’d just have to take Slick’s word on it.

He feels his lips twitch into a smile that’s nearly bordering on a smirk when he hears Slick’s last sentence. Crawl then raises a brow giving the other an exaggerated look up and down with his hands planted on his hips.

“Well, are you guilty of something?”

He pulls his mask down again, this time leaving the fabric to bunch up around his neck. Crawl then offers up an amused smile, a clear attempt to convey that he was joking.

Though he was admittedly curious about the salesman’s answer. Nobody led a perfect do-good life after all.

“Folks are sometimes surprised when they find out this li’l ol’ fella is older than he looks. They tend to think I’m in my late thirties. Guess it’s because of how active and energetic I am. I also made sure to look after myself too and kept myself healthy.” The salesman chuckled as he fiddled with his moustache.

Moments later, the joyful expression that was on Mr. Slick’s face disappeared. It was replaced with a stern and serious face.

He tries schooling his expression into something sympathetic, but he can’t quiet manage it. There’s a small stutter in his actions before he lets loose what’s hopefully a dismissive grin, along with a shrug for good measure.  

“That’s not so bad. What’s wrong with giving some bad dudes a hard time? Sounds kinda like that Robin Hood guy.”   

His line of thought shifts as the other thanks him, then begins speaking again.

Crawl nods in agreement, albeit slowly, he hadn’t actually gone to school so he’d just have to take Slick’s word on it.

He feels his lips twitch into a smile that’s nearly bordering on a smirk when he hears Slick’s last sentence. Crawl then raises a brow, giving the other an exaggerated look up and down with his hands planted on his hips.

“Well, are you guilty of something?”

He pulls his mask down again, this time leaving the fabric to bunch up around his neck. Crawl then offers up an amused smile, a clear attempt to convey that he was joking.

The other tells him he's shy-of all things- and Crawl finds himself blinking in surprise. He wouldn't have guessed that at all, Mr Slick had come off to him as rather confident...

When the older nomad smiles, Crawl reflexively smiles in return before taking up the pen in his hand again.

"Why Lil'?"

A pause, Crawl opts to separate the next statements, writing them lower on the map.

Either way he was pleasantly surprised by the large influx of information the other was willing to give. Was he suppose to thank him? Usually he didn't encounter people who were willing to talk to him like that, much less after he pretty much insulted them.

"You're pretty cool."

But then Mr Slick begins talking…

Crawl perks up a bit, his head tilting further as he listens to the other. Well this was much more interesting than trying to trade old maps.

In fact, he wanted him to keep talking, but how was he suppose to get him to do that? Crawl wasn’t exactly the master of conversations. He probably already offended him with his first comment. But he feels oddly excited, and writes something out before he even thinks it over.

“It’s like our entire race just can’t stay still.”

His hand pauses over the writing and then proceeded to mark it out. It was a weird thing to say, yeah? He wasn’t much to talk about things like that, it was silly, he didn’t really know much about his own species.

He shuffles his feet, gnawing on his lip nervously. Arugh no…he wasn’t any good at this. Maybe he could just…?

Crawl twists the other's pen idly as he mulls over how he would ask his question without making the other uncomfortable. Or mad...? Maybe. He still was curious about that too. Though he wasn't about to ask the older nomad what he had to do to get him angry.

"You talk funny."

....

Well the guy had already called him 'kiddo' a number of times, might as well go the course of a blunt kid.

"Where are you from?"

He didn't think pointing out that the 'notes' were actually just his side of old conversations would help with the value of the maps so he didn't.

Boy howdy...

The younger's shoulders shake as he suppresses another laugh. The action had been confused with crying several times before, with his mask on he tended to confuse people.

Crawl then considers asking where Mr Slick was from, though not everyone really liked questioned about their past... He seemed friendly enough though, maybe too friendly. Then again he didn't seem dangerous...

Polite... Oh oops.

He hadn't even introduced himself to the other. Did it matter at this point? Mr Slick didn't ask for his name and he wasn't one to just offer it up anyway. Well...it was written all over his maps, past conversations having him state his name to others several times...perhaps the older nomad had already figured out his name? Or not. He wasn't likely to be remembered, so it wasn't important was it?

Crawl shifts in his boots, lifting a foot off the maps to bring them into his hands. The blond gives them a shake and attempts to sort out some cleaner maps.

Adventurer sounded much friendlier than lost sorta-no-longer-mercenary. Either way, it was pretty hard to appear harmless when you tell people you use to hurt people for a living. He’d like to think he didn’t give off the impression of a murderer. Then again, he wasn’t exactly fit for the job anymore, it didn’t matter. 

The masked nomad retrieves the map he had wrote on previously and notices the fact he was no longer holding the pen he had taken from…Mr. Slick. Oh. That was a odd name…well, his name was Crawl he supposed he couldn’t really call anyone else’s name weird. 

He spots the pen by the pile of his items, he must have dropped it. Crawl then leans over and snatches it up, idly wondering what it would take to make the salesman mad at him. The younger bares down on his stomach uncomfortably to write on the map, scribbling a few sentences out before handing it over to the other. 

“Where do you get your items? 

Do you sell maps? I’m lost.  

Do you sell any pain medication?”

askmisterslick:  

The salesman glanced at his potential customer for any signs what he might like. He frowned as he waited for a sign. His eyes lit up when he noticed the ink that coated Crawl’s fingers. Ah-ha! Perfect!

“Ya are just in luck, kiddo!”, Mr. Slick beamed, “This li’l ol’ fella has all kinds of pens.”

He dug through his briefcase for a couple seconds until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed a handful of pens showed then to his potential customer.

“Got pens that can change colours with a simple click. Pens that you could erase with an eraser. Pens that can glow-in-the-dark. Pens that can write on all surfaces. Pens that can reabsorb its ink. Ya name it, this li’l ol’ fella will have it.”

How about a regular pen? 

Crawl moves to wipe his hands but then pauses, his dripping fingers hovering over the fabric of his shirt. 

Or…a napkin..? 

“….” Would he get mad if he tried to use one of the pens to write out a question? Maybe. Well, only one way to find out. 

The younger nomad reaches out carefully with his clean hand, plucking a random pen from the other’s hand. He then gives it a light shake, as if it were already out of ink. Crawl then scribbles on the paper he had gotten from his pockets, his writing is sloppy but he holds out the paper for the other anyway.  

“Do you accept trades?” 

The salesman didn’t expect Crawl to grab one of his pens. He wasn’t mad, just confused. Oh, guess he was testing them?  He waited for a moment until he saw the message his potential customer wrote.

“This li’l ol’ fella doesn’t normally accept trades, but he does make expections. What type of goodies do ya have, kiddo?” Mr. Slick cocked his head to one side as he examined Crawl’s appearance. What could he possibly have? 

“…..”  A pause. As if considering something. His eyes flick back towards the salesman and he seems to change his mind. 

Crawl tugs a short dagger from his boot, unlike the ones hidden under his shirt this one doesn’t seem to be used often, more decorative than anything. The old blade looked to be something for ceremony. He didn’t need it…what did he need..? He places the dagger on the ground.

Then, quite carelessly he empties his pockets, the rest of his possessions thumping against the ground next to his maps. Several more blades, a spoon, a few rusty keys, and several miscellaneous objects that were probably just picked up off the ground. 

askmisterslick:

The salesman took the nod as a yes.

“This li’l ol’ fella has all sort of goodies. From basic needs like soap to clothing and other accessories. Ya name, this fella has it.”

The star nomad dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pocket-sized briefcase. With a flick of his wrist, the briefcase grew in size. He opened it and took a handful of contents out and held them up for his potential customer to see.

“This li’l ol’ fella has all sorts of cloaks, shirts, pants and shoes if ya are interested…?”

“…..” 

Crawl says nothing in return, he doesn’t even seem to be looking at what the other is holding. Instead the masked nomad appears to be staring quite intently at the salesman’s face. This lasts for a few long seconds…

“O-oh…!” 

With a small intake of breath he jolts back to attention, hastily making a show of looking over the other’s wares. His hands twisting at the hem of his shirt in an almost nervous fashion.

Mr. Slick didn’t notice that Crawl was staring at his face. He was too busy promoting his wares.

“Or, would ya like to check out the eye-wear? This li’l ol’ fella has all sorts of eye-wear, from goggles to special spectacles. Got them all.”

With a soft huff he shoves his hands into his pockets, then shuffles around for a pen and piece of paper. Crawl found the paper quickly but the pen…

“..Hhh..” 

“Ya are just in luck, kiddo!”, Mr. Slick beamed, “This li’l ol’ fella has all kinds of pens.”

He dug through his briefcase for a couple seconds until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed a handful of pens showed then to his potential customer.

Crawl moves to wipe his hands but then pauses, his dripping fingers hovering over the fabric of his shirt. 

Or…a napkin..? 

“….” Would he get mad if he tried to use one of the pens to write out a question? Maybe. Well, only one way to find out. 

The younger nomad reaches out carefully with his clean hand, plucking a random pen from the other’s hand. He then gives it a light shake, as if it were already out of ink. Crawl then scribbles on the paper he had gotten from his pockets, his writing is sloppy but he holds out the paper for the other anyway.  

askmisterslick:

The salesman took the nod as a yes.

“This li’l ol’ fella has all sort of goodies. From basic needs like soap to clothing and other accessories. Ya name, this fella has it.”

The star nomad dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pocket-sized briefcase. With a flick of his wrist, the briefcase grew in size. He opened it and took a handful of contents out and held them up for his potential customer to see.

“This li’l ol’ fella has all sorts of cloaks, shirts, pants and shoes if ya are interested…?”

“…..” 

Crawl says nothing in return, he doesn’t even seem to be looking at what the other is holding. Instead the masked nomad appears to be staring quite intently at the salesman’s face. This lasts for a few long seconds…

“O-oh…!” 

With a small intake of breath he jolts back to attention, hastily making a show of looking over the other’s wares. His hands twisting at the hem of his shirt in an almost nervous fashion.

Mr. Slick didn’t notice that Crawl was staring at his face. He was too busy promoting his wares.

“Or, would ya like to check out the eye-wear? This li’l ol’ fella has all sorts of eye-wear, from goggles to special spectacles. Got them all.”

With a soft huff he shoves his hands into his pockets, then shuffles around for a pen and piece of paper. Crawl found the paper quickly but the pen…

“..Hhh..”