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 Making some Coin, Tag: Simon, Open
Kio Tait
 Posted: Apr 23 2017, 04:54 PM
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It was the next day.

All through the night while Simon slept, Kio had shuffled his cards and stared at the stars through a hole in the roof. It was warm in their little sleeping nook and there were times that Kio wondered if Simon's soft breathing would lul even him to sleep. But alas, sleep never came for the young gypsy. Not sleeping wasn't always bad. Most nights Kio had spent at the caravan he had merely kept the fire going all night, or cleaned, or wandered into the city where the drunks would be stumbling from the taverns to lighten their pockets for the poor saps who had to carry it back home.

But with Simon now, he couldn't just wander off into the night to do as he pleased. It had been excruciatingly boring. But also nice to have someone near by again. He hadn't slept so close to anyone since his grandmother had passed away, and the sensation of having someone else's weight pressed to his side or back was comforting in it's own way.

So while he had shuffled his cards all night and stared at the stars, Kio thought of many things. Of his past, of what his future would hold, of if this new friendship was going to last. If their food was going to last. The food would run out. And the friendship would only run out if Kio allowed it. But to make food more plentiful, that meant they needed coin, if they wanted to purchase food. Eventually the local merchant's were going to catch on to his stall-attendant scam if he continued to do it.

He coin lighten a few purses, cut a few strings, make some quick cash. He wasn't entirely against it, since it wouldn't be funding Priscoli's non-stop drinking and his fancy clothe buying. He also had to consider Simon. Did the boy know the first thing about thievery? His thin body told Kio otherwise. Where Simon was thin Kio was piratically fat compared to the boy. He was narrow, limber, lean, but certainly not on the edge of starvation. He'd lost weight since leaving the caravan, but still, nothing compared to Simon, or, Miro, as he called him mentally.

So he decided something must be done. If he were to take up pick-pocketing to fund their decided travel into Aerlion, he would have to teach Simon, starting with the most basics. He had also made the choice that he would teach Simon other things, things along the lines of entertainment. He didn't expect Simon to be fire breathing or dagger swallowing any time soon...but he would start him on something somewhat easy.

Balance.

He had shimmied out of the little nook while Simon slept, careful not to wake the boy, and procured from outside their little run-down-mansion of a hiding place--- an old keg. It was long empty and had been weathered out in the alleyway.

By the time Simon woke up, he'd find Kio had made a small fire for them in the center of the stone floor, the barrel sitting off in a corner.
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Simon Pryor
 Posted: May 3 2017, 01:20 PM
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Simon awoke that morning feeling bewildered. For a few moments, he wasn't sure where he was or how he'd gotten there. The previous night's events were a fog, made all the more distant by the deep sleep a full belly had put him into. He felt a stirring of fear in his belly while he tried to orient himself. This was NOT the old familiar Stone Quarter corner he was accustomed to waking up in, and his scrap of blanket was gone. There was so much that could go wrong for a little orphan boy sleeping in the streets that Simon's immediate assumption was that he'd been kidnapped and sold to slavers.

He had vague memories of Kio and the magic cards, of stealing bread and cheese and eating until his belly was full. But they seemed too good to be true. That is, they were until he scanned the dimly lit building he was holed up in and his gaze fell upon the boy he thought he'd dreamed.

:Kio!: his mind shouted gleefully. The boy's face lit up. He scrambled to his feet and raced across the room, and practically threw himself at the older boy before he could help himself. His grubby little arms wrapped around Kio as tightly as he could manage, and little Simon clung there like a burr for several seconds.

((OOC: Mobile post, forgive my typos!))
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Kio Tait
 Posted: May 3 2017, 08:11 PM
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Kio hadn't heard Simon's initial shifting around, but the sudden call of his name within his head made him look up towards the entryway of their little hide out. There was no one there- but his quick look left him entirely open to a sudden hug-attack from his left, one that bowled him over onto his right arm where he balanced himself and Simon, "Ha-ha! Miro, what is this now?" He had a wide grin on his face as the smaller boy clung tightly, "I wouldn't leave you behind!"

Rather than pushing the other boy off he gave him all the time he wanted. It was nice to be hugged like this, in a non romantic way of course. It made Kio feel needed, appreciated, something he hadn't had in a long time. His grin turned into a genuine smile when he wasn't immediately released, softly patting Simon on his back, "Look little bird, I have breakfast for us!" He hazard a motion towards the tiny fire with his right hand while still propped on his elbow, "This time I bought it! I mean, after some generous donations, but..." And by donations he must have meant pick pocketing.

Above the fire, on a rickety spit, looked like a small chicken. It probably hadn't been full grown and quite likely had died by accident or something, caught under a cart wheel possibly, it's head crushed. But the head and feathers had since been removed and the little bird, no bigger than a softball, looked well roasted on one side. "Cost me half a silver he did, but it's not so bad. He looks to have some meat on him!" Unlike his new companion.
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Simon Pryor
 Posted: May 5 2017, 10:47 AM
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In response to Kio's gesture toward the scrawny chicken on the spit, little Simon's stomach growled. He let go of the older boy's midsection and bashfully wrapped his arms around his own instead. That growl had been loud, embarrassingly so, and he tried to hide any further snarls with his arms before Kio had a chance to hear any more of them.

But, oh, that roasting meat smelled heavenly!

He saw how it was mostly cooked on only one side, and what little training he'd received at the hands of the tavern keeper set him in motion. His little hands took hold of the end of the spit and turned it dutifully, at a mostly even speed since there wasn't a handle for him to turn it with. He remembered how angry the cook would get if any part of a chunk of meat got burned and knew that somehow it was bad for food to end up that way. Even though Simon himself wouldn't have cared one whit about the doneness of a scrawny bit of chicken, he thought that he should somehow lend a hand in the preparation of their meal. Kio had already done so much....

But being this near to the tantalizing scent of grilling chicken was hard to ignore. Simon's mouth watered fiercely and he found himself repeatedly swallowing to keep himself from outright drooling. Hopefully, as little as this chicken was, it wouldn't take long to cook.
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Kio Tait
 Posted: May 14 2017, 12:09 PM
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The growl had been loud enough for Kio to hear, but he politely ignored it and instead smiled as Simon took up turning the spit, "I was thinking, Little Miro," He stood up and brushed off as he did so, "That we should have a way to earn coin if we're going to travel into Aerlion!" As he spoke Kio had moved towards the empty barrel and stood beside it, placing his hands on the side, "We'll get caught if we stay here and I rob the vendors so often, and people become suspicious of coin purses falling from their waist all the time."

Both of which were entirely understandable! With a bit of oomft Kio pushed the barrel over. It hit the ground with a wooden thud, the bands about it's sides holding it together tightly. It looked pretty sturdy- no wood rot, no missing planks! Kio had been proud that he had found one in such good condition. Surely someone had tossed it out by mistake!

"So," He breathed out as he climbed atop the barrel and balanced upon it, the barrel unmoving. "I was thinking I could teach you to do tricks, like I do? We could entertain people on the street and earn coin!"
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Simon Pryor
 Posted: May 19 2017, 09:13 AM
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It was hard to tear his gaze away from the roasting chicken, but Simon managed to do it by sheer force of will. The sound of the barrel tipping over was what finally allowed him to pry his gaze away; he was too curious not to look. The little boy wasn't at all certain what a barrel had to do with earning money, until Kio somehow managed to climb up onto it all by himself, without falling in the process!

He felt his jaw go slack and snapped his mouth shut before he could openly gape at what his new friend had done, but he knew his eyebrows were still arched clear up into his hairline in surprise. He couldn't help but take his grubby little hands off the makeshift spit and clap with excitement.

Simon didn't think he could ever learn to do tricks the way Kio could, but he would certainly try his very best! Who knew? Maybe one day, Simon could learn to juggle bean bags, or stand on his head, or walk across a tight rope without falling!

He found himself nodding vigorously in agreement with Kio's plan, and belatedly realized he'd stopped turning the spit in his excitement. Cheeks reddened with embarrassment and shame, he hurriedly went back to that task, but didn't take his eyes off of Kio for more than a second or two at a time thereafter.
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Kio Tait
 Posted: Jun 18 2017, 07:37 PM
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"Great!" Kio exclaimed excitedly at Miro's obvious excitement of learning. He jerked his knees forward to get the barrel rolling before stepping backwards on the very cusp of the barrel to bring it's momentum into a very slow back roll. Kio walked backwards atop the barrel to show Miro, "We'll start with balance," He planted one foot firmly and shuffle-skipped to the side, jerking the barrel to the side to change his direction. "It will take you time to learn, but it's the best place to start, yea? Soon we will have you perching atop things like the little bird you are."

He bent his knees and as he exerted force through his entire body leapt into a back flip, landing with his hands on the barrel and his feet in the air, "I have been doing this since I was very little, very young." He walked the barrel forward now, slower than before as he didn't want to break concentration and land on his head, "But first," He slowwwwly tipped his feet forward and allowed his back to arch as he piratically melted off the barrel, his hands only leaving it once his feet had firmly planted on the ground, "We eat. That chicken should be done, huh?"

Where Kio was used to preforming on an empty stomach, he didn't want to start his young friend off like this. Hunger was a good motivator but made for a bad teacher when it came to the physical arts.
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Simon Pryor
 Posted: Jun 26 2017, 11:48 AM
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Watching Kio flit around on that empty barrel was a bizarre sort of experience for Simon. He'd never seen anything like it, and he was absolutely certain he'd never be able to learn to be so nimble. Surely Kio had some kind of Gift that made his feet and body move so effortlessly up there on the rolling cask? In his estimation, no normal human could caper like that without having been blessed by the Angels first.

He watched, wide-eyed, until Kio finally set foot back on flat ground, and then his grubby little hands clapped together in a round of applause for his new friend. Magnificent! Amazing! Wonderful! For the second time, the scrawny chicken on a spit over the fire was forgotten. That is, until Kio mentioned finally getting to eat it.

Simon got up close and inspected the meat. It was fairly well done, he thought. There weren't too many burned bits, and still enough fat left in the meat that it slowly dripped into the fire every now and again. That's what the old innkeeper had always said was best. If there was no fat, the meat would be too dry. He'd been cuffed about the ears for overcooking meat before, so Simon thought he knew well enough to say this chicken was ready for eating.

He lifted the spit from its stand over the fire, and handed it to Kio. As the elder of the two of them, Simon figured Kio would get first dibs on anything he wanted. Simon could pick over what was left afterwards.
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Kio Tait
 Posted: Jul 23 2017, 09:49 AM
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Feet planted, Kio had stood slowly before allowing himself a few seconds to gain his barrings. Moving too fast would have caused him a dizzy spell that he would have preferred to avoid. As Simon offered out the chicken the older boy raised a hand and gave it a shake side to side, "No Miro, you enjoy it. I'd prefer cheese." It wasn't 100% the truth, but Kio had found himself quickly developing a soft spot for the boy. Where Kio was skinny, Simon appeared down right skeletal. That kid needed some meat on his bones and what better way than making sure he ate?

Ungracefully flopping down beside their little fire Kio leaned onto his side and pulled the bundle of apron closer. Within it were the contents of their left overs, the spoils of theft from the day before. He went about unting it as he spoke, "Winter will be bitter this year." He eyed Simon's rags worth of clothing with his lips pressed firmly together. "Taverns will pay us to entertain their patrons if we can prove our worth." He picked the cheese from the apron and broke what was left in half, "I could read cards, if the owner lets me. Some people don't take too kindly on it, The Argents could care less one from the other, but some of the churches say the ungifted should not try to peer into the future with cards." He shrugged one shoulder.

"But entertaining with flips and other tricks is what most will expect."


"We should clean you up first before that." He grinned towards his friend and brushed his own cheek, leaving a streak of dirt in his hand's wake.
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Simon Pryor
 Posted: Jul 24 2017, 01:13 PM
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While Simon desperately wanted to devour every scrap of meat on the bird, and then crack its bones and suck the marrow out too, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Eating all of the meat that Kio had provided seemed wrong, somehow. Even his six-year-old brain knew that much. Of course, it wasn't something he'd learned from any of the adults in his life. Rather, living on the streets had taught him that sometimes, the only food he got for days at a time was a little scrap shared by an older street kid.

Simon knew all too well what starvation felt like. He hadn't been under Kio's wing long enough to forget those nights spent huddled in a corner, feeling so hungry that he'd chewed a corner of his blanket just to have something to gnaw on.

So he twisted a drumstick off of the scrawny roast chicken, and offered it out to Kio anyway. He'd even go so far as to set it next to the cheese and bread if Kio refused the offer a second time.

Then it was straight to stuffing himself with greasy meat. Simon first tore the largest chunks straight off the carcass with his teeth. He gulped down mouthfuls of meat almost without chewing, his little cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk that'd gotten into the feed bin. Once the bulk of the meat was gone, the boy moved toward picking off every little bit he could find with his fingers. He was so absorbed in picking the bones clean of every speck of meat, that he almost didn't hear Kio mention a bath. But when it did register in his food-crazed brain, Simon paused mid-bite and looked at Kio, somewhat horrified.

Kio wanted Simon to take a bath?

Every bath he'd ever had since he was a toddler had been a hellish affair. Ice cold water, harsh lye soap and scrubbing brushes that made his skin raw were regular features of said baths. He'd essentially been plunked into the horse trough and scrubbed until his skin was an angry red. They'd dunk him under water, then stand him up and scrub at him like he was an animal and not a little boy, and by the end of it he'd be howling between his chattering teeth. It wasn't until recently that he'd heard the term 'fleas' get tossed about, and then every tavern worker got the same treatment, with the exception that Simon wasn't allowed to bathe himself.

That was why, when Kio mentioned a bath, Simon shook his head vigorously. He did NOT want to be subjected to anything like that ever again!
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Kio Tait
 Posted: Aug 3 2017, 12:06 PM
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Simon insisted again and again that Kio take some meat. He didn't have the heart to tell the kid no a second time so when the drumstick was twisted off the chicken, he accepted it. "Thanks." He shot the boy a smile and tucked into his own meal afterwards.

It was at the suggestion of a bath that Simon began to shake his head feverishly and Kio was at a loss. His dark, bushy brows pulled together and he looked concerned towards the boy, "No? Well you can't look like a dirty scamp if we want ta get into those taverns for winter. They'll toss us out fer look'n like we're caring some bugs or something on us." Kio's history of baths had by far been better than that of his friend.

His early years were spent with tender baths by his mother, baths filled with flowery rosemary stems by his grandmother after his mother had moved on. And by then Kio was old enough to have managed his own bathing, most the time either in a river or a basin of water he'd warmed near the fire. Cold baths weren't unknown by him, but he had been lucky to have never relied on anyone cold hearted to have bathed him as a younger child.

He pressed his lips together, now resting on his side with a cheese rine held in one hand, "What if I just let ya clean yerself up a bit, then? I can give you a rag and we'll get your face clean at least."

"Nothing I can do for your clothes, they look like rags." He considered their options, "Maybe the church in this town passes out some shirts? I've seen in big towns where they gather up all the street kids and in a show of good faith put new clothes on them." And by new he really meant 'new to them' type situation. He grunted, "Not that their good faith goes past an occasional meal and a shirt." Still, it was more than most gave to those on the streets, right?

Not like he could expect them to, say, find a LOVING home for street kids.
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Simon Pryor
 Posted: Aug 14 2017, 11:40 AM
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Simon wrapped his arms around his little body, and made an exaggerated shivering motion. Baths were COLD, he wanted to say. And it was already winter, when the nights were so bitter that the air burned your skin and your lungs, and you'd wake up in the morning with frost on your hair and your blanket scraps. Who in their right mind would go dunking themselves into an ice cold horse trough at this time of year?

But it looked as though Kio was fairly insistent about this washing-up business. The little boy's face fell, and he ducked his head. He supposed a quick wipe down with a wet rag was better than a full-on bath, but he didn't have to look forward to it.

His head hung down yet further when Kio called the boy's clothing 'rags.' They were the best he had! Layers and layers of hole filled scraps, potato sacks with spots for his head and arms cut out, pieced together bits of rags from trash heaps, and so on. And they were all worn one over the other, so that even if each item had holes, at least the holes weren't all in the same place and he could warm up a little bit.

He couldn't imagine what a REAL shirt would feel like. One that didn't itch or rub his skin raw, one that was thick and sturdy, and didn't reek of street living. A real shirt would be like... like Heaven.

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