Fandom Island and Town

The Master of the Straits floated in the water, feeling the currents of the sea and wind. The fish were telling him grave stories about a creature in the depths. It was not a shark nor anything else natural. Was Raziel stirring in his depths? He cupped water in his hands and blew on the surface; it shimmered and silvered into a mirror's shine. But even peering into the Water Mirror, he could see no sign of it.

Well. He might look into it more later did the issue continue. For now, though, he was looking longingly at the land.

[Open]

According to the radio, the way to stop this insanity was to wander about, searching for items that could be used in some kind of ritual. Hyacinthe didn't quite understand everything about it, but he was willing to render whatever aid he could in order to make this stop. Fortunately, he did not have to work alone; there were plenty of others willing to help him to search for something that would represent generosity.

( The spirit of giving )

[And one of the Elements of Harmony is found! Establishy.]

Out of consideration for his ailing roommate, Hyacinthe did not return to his room after his classes ended. Instead, he took the lovely Ada's advice and wandered through town to exchange some of his D'Angeline centimes and ducats for American currency. The paper and coins felt light in his hand after the reassuring heft of gold, but he had to trust in the honesty of the tellers. He was swamped with a wave of homesickness; back home, he would have trusted a Bryony adept to make the exchange and he would have known how much he'd gotten in the bargain and how long it would last him. He seemed to have more money in his fist than he'd had in his entire life leading up till now, but, then, he was a poor Tsingani bastard. He'd never held all the much and the numbers mattered nought when he did not yet know the price of milk or eggs or bread.

For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to be in the Cockerel with Emile or in the cramped apartment he shared with his mother, Anastaizia muttering to herself while she stirred laundry over their stove, perfuming the air with the scent of soap.

But the Prince of Travellers was home wherever he found himself and Hyacinthe shrugged off those feelings and purposefully strode down the street, looking for a place that caught his fancy and looked nothing of home. Which was how he ended up standing in line at the Perk, ordering something with a truly ridiculous name, half of which he didn't understand, and paying a price that seemed completely unreasonable. It was no jug of Cockerel red, but by the time he settled into a chair to people-watch, his jovial mood had returned--in no small part because he'd convinced the barista to lower the cost of the concoction for a kiss.