>>5149553Firmly telling yourself the Skinternet can wait, you stride towards the bustling crowd and into your element after bidding Emily adieu. You knew how to put on an infectious smile well before Skintalking granted you its boons, and the grin spreads through the crowd of customers as you meet their eyes. There’s a lot of new faces today, but you’re sifting through the crowd looking for one in particular, tucked away in an unassuming accessories stall.
“Marchesa!” You declare upon spying your target hanging up a selection of her finest scarves.
“Paloma!” The blonde Fibromancer shouts back as you cross the gap in a few short bounds. “What brings you ‘round?”
“Oh, I just wanted to say ‘hello’! How’s business?”
“Picking up!” She announces with a grin, her smile taking a moment to reach the half of her face that’s composed of golden twine. She reaches out with a fibrous hand, sifting through the wares she just set on display. “Dunno if you noticed, but we’ve got a lot of fresh faces ‘round today.”
“It has been on an uptick recently, hasn’t it?” You sigh, glancing back at the churning crowd. Whereas the majority of the Daughters you’ve taken under your roof are under-leveled enough to only show the barest traces of their powers, the throngs that’ve fill the Ikean Fortress’ halls as of late are quite the opposite. Skill sets on full display and strapped down with Relics, the increase in Cord-seekers has been a trend you can’t help but notice.
“So! How’s Rupert?” You say, rounding on Marchesa and trying to put Emily’s comments about time out of your mind, for now. As if on cue, the Amalgam proudly strides out from behind the shopkeep. Its misshapen eyes roll in their sockets to focus on you as it clops forward, head tilting in a bow that’s made awkward only by the stall’s tight quarters.
“Prideful ‘lil git as always.” Marchesa grins, running a hand through the stripe of white fur that runs down the centipede-like deer’s lengthy back. “Can’t help but come running if he hears his name.”
“Well for such a handsome boy, I don’t blame him if he wants to show off!” You reply with mock offence before reaching out to scratch the amalgam behind one ear. “What’s the scoop, Rupert? Hear anything interesting?”
Marchesa laughs.
Rupert answers.
“Many come for the Cord.” He intones in a voice only a Skintalker or another of his kind could hope to understand. “All are headstrong. Some are nervous. Others are tense. Most have good intent.”
You’ve known about Rupert’s unique level of intelligence ever since he and Marchesa shadowed the Ikea’s doors. It didn’t take Skintalking to notice the light of intent behind his eyes, but it did take a little bit of time before you were able to convince him that you could be trusted.
…back scratches.
It mostly took a lot of back scratches.
(Continued)
