juggle-naught [open]

Many a stare was cast as a young woman made her way down the bustling streets, passing elegantly through the doors to the cafe as she meandered about, stopping to interact with the odd men and women. All in all it was a rather bland day; the catch seemed to be just as dull and predictable as so many were in these parts...but alas she had been on....business....in the area, and sadly the only folk for her to observe were of the dullest of natures. So placid and used to their boring lives; sometimes it was hard to tell that there were multiple races living here, as they all slowly seemed to mesh and blend into specific types: the avid shopper, who usually fussed quite a bit over Bel's hair and attire; the Lunch Break folk who just complained about having to go back to work in a short while; the parent and child that gave her the evil eye whilst keeping a hand on the child's shoulder.....and all of them within their specific groups were exactly the same. Faceless, boring. It was quite an annoyance, they seemed to ill express that which Bel herself could not. And when they did, it was over ridiculously petty matters.

A shout of profanities caught Bel's attention, and she looked at the little pouch of coins she had hidden in the pockets of her dress. The ability to sew really was handy, since most female clothing did not have much in the way of storage, save for the bosom area. The dress-pocket was...certainly not a particularly fashionable addition, but while she was not disguised as a man, it was difficult for her to hide her permanently borrowed treasures. Normally her victims didn't notice until she was long gone, but the man was on his way into the cafe she had just left not long ago. Slipping around the side of the next building, Belrose began making her way down a side path. She didn't really pay attention when she slipped around the corner, but now looking about, she could see that this was the General Store. She flattened herself against the wall a little ways in, watching as her victim fumed and stormed about. It was unfortunate that he discovered so soon, but he would not be getting that gold of his back. Belrose turned and continued down the narrow walkway, considering the idea of making a quick stop in the General Store to put the gold to use. Though, she had already taken care of a free midday meal; it was enough for now.

The sound of a voice caught the woman's attention as she came about to the back of the building. Pausing for a moment, she listened to the words being spoken. It was a rhyme...a rhyme of some absurd nature, something that truly did not make sense. For a moment longer, she simply stood and listened, before finally turning the corner. What she saw was certainly interesting; a man with a young face sat idly flipping knives in the air, talking quietly to himself. Even without him talking to her directly, she could tell something was different, something was interesting about him. He didn't look up with a smile and say hello, and he didn't stare at her like she was a freak. Of course...it could have been that he simply did not see her, but that would soon be

"A pence is a coin, since discontinued. A six-pence....that would be six coins then, I believe." she reasoned, idly twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. "And I would call what you are doing now knife-throwing. They are leaving your hand after all, but I suppose since you're catching them it's not the same as the actual knife-throwing practice. I would say you are playing a one person game of pass. That's what it is." She stopped for a moment, simply watching him in his movements. It was quite a fascinating sight, he was rather good at it, too -- never once did he accidentally snatch the pointed end as he caught it. Bel cleared her throat quietly, now quite interested in his game. "Do you do this often? And what, may I ask, is the purpose? Does it make you happy to toss knives or do you perhaps hope to earn gold for entertaining passers by? If it's the latter, I would suggest you should find a new venue."

He really was good at the knife tossing-juggling-throwing-passing. Bel had first expected him to stumble upon her appearance and perhaps burst in anger, but no such scenario occurred at all; in fact, he barely seemed to pay her mind at first, only indicating that he was aware of her by his words."To my knowledge coins aren't capable of avoiding people. Perhaps though I am wrong, after all I can only speak for myself. Have you experienced this phenomenon before?" the young woman wondered aloud. It was not a topic she ordinarily would have any interest in, but come to think of it it was true that she could only speak for herself, so for all she knew the physical lawas of the world were different from person to person just like the metaphysical world was. If a person was capable of repelling a specific type of coin that would be quite a discovery.

She couldn't think long on that sentiment though, for soon the young man was speaking again, this time of his current occupation. Bel had to smirk at that, quite amused at the sheer similarness in it all. Seeing a person walk by, hearing the clink of coins, noticing valuable trinkets....it all made her hands twitch eagerly. There was always the thought that she could be putting those goods to better use, to her own use. When she passed up those chances, it really did make her hands feel strange. Her condition was due to a particular hobby she picked up some time ago though; was it like tht for him too? Or did he naturally have a funny hand-brain connection?

Calm eyes watched as the one knife was tossed expertly into the other, causing both to drop point-down. Still, somehow Silver-hair managed to catch the first by the handle, and then the second, too. That kind of percision came with years of practice; she could attest to that, stealing was just the same. Picking pockets was just like knife throwing it seemed.

Silver-hair made a rather redundant comment, causing those intently-staring eyes to meet his own. "And I have never seen you before either." she said, equally redundantly, in a rather deadpan voice. "I came from a place outside Asgard on...business affairs." she said carefully; he had stated he was an employee at this place, so announcing herself as a thief would be foolish. Though, now was a good time to introduce herself and maybe test his persona. The young woman took a seat next to the man, a little closer than most people were comfortable with. "My name is Belrose, but since you seem interesting you may call me Bel if you like. Or you may call me Belrose. Or something else, if you would rather. But...I am interested to know, just what do I call you?"

Elf. No, that was not a suitable name to call someone unless she wished to speak to all of elfkind. Since he was the only elf before her that would simply be foolish. Though, it was interesting that he had suggested the name she had been calling him inside her head, Silver-hair. Though even then that wasn't good enough, since his hair could be any shade of silver or even closer to white. His birth name was Aelrich though, apparently. And though he suggested Ael, that to her sunded too mcuh like ale; she wouldn't want to be demanding alcohol of someone by accident when she simply was trying t speak to this silver-haired elf named Aelrich. "I believe I will call you Aelrich as that is what you call yourself, and therefore it is what you naturally would answer to most quickly." she murmured. Yes, that made most sense.

It was also interesting to note he was an artist. She wouldn't have thought that right away, though seeing the canvas near by she supposed it would make sense. She never had any talent for art, certainly not visual art at least. She was good at performing, in some regard, since she had to put on a persona sometimes to do her...job.

His next statement cuaght her somewhat by surprise, though, and rather perked her interests. He was growing more and more interesting by the moment, it seemed; not only did he seem to be emotionally detached and slgihtly lacking in sanity, he was also several hundred years old. But that alone would have only intrigued her slightly; no, what truly she found interesting was that he was able to read people. Furthermore it was intriguing that....he, as a shop's employee, had warned her about law enforcement instead of notifying them about a thief. She almost overlooked the fact that her closeness seemed to have no effect on him, classing him as a social oddity; usually the response was either to edge away or edge closer, depending on if desire or discomfort took the lead. Neither, in his case. Interesting.

"If you know about my business affairs then doesn't that make me a bit of a threat to your establishment?" she asked, half-nodding to the store by which they were sitting. "Or is it simply that if I do intend to do business there you will stab me in the back? ...That is of course in the literal sense of the phrase." The question was genuine, and spoken as nonchalantly as though she was asking how the weather was, or how his wife was faring as of late. Assuming he had one. It was true though, he could technically just stab her with those knives at any point if he wanted. In the interest of self-preservation, she thought it best to add another statement. "You needn't worry of course as the day's business is done."