Dante: Trips

Dawn came on loud and early in Amber, the shipyards stirring with hammers and saws before dawn. Anyone who lived within spitting distance of the harbor was forced to be a morning person, or invest in very thick walls.

It had been a week since Dante had turned ten, and for a list of reasons that ran long and sometimes contradictory, he and his mother were still in Amber. They had put him up in Keenan's room after a hasty order for a cot had been filled. Dante didn't know where his mother was, but it wasn't at Martha's.

Downstairs, the morning crowd of merchants bustled in and out, getting a morning cup of coffee or tea, and one of the baker's delivery of pasteries for a few copper.

Keenan, who was used to getting up very early, got up before Dante and went downstairs to help his mother get the tavern ready for the morning customers. He did his best to keep up with the dishes that they produced, so that they would all be clean and ready when the lunch rush came. "Mum?" he asked as he dried off a plate, "can Keenan and I go sailing today?"

Dante awoke as Keenan ran off, the exterior noise forcing him up, again. Bleary eyed he stumbled about his morning, making it to the foot of the stairs as Keenan ended his question.

Martha looked over Keenan's head at the bleary Dante and laughed. "If his highness can wake himself up enough. Here, Dante." She produced a cup of coffee, pale with milk and heavy with sugar, mutilated to the point of barely being coffee at all. "Drink this down. Kee, you can leave off the dishes. I think our surge is over. You'll want to get dressed. Can't wear an apron on a boat."

"Thank you, Mum!" Keenan pulled off his apron and hung it neatly on its hook. He grabbed a muffin from the table and bit into it. "C'mon, Dante," he said. "Eat quick, so we can go!"

Dante slurped down the coffee, his eyes widening as he did so. With all the calm of a veteran monk, Dante set the cup on the counter. His eyes glistened with awareness before he violently shook himself. "Thanks!"

He then raced about the kitchen, grabbing 2 muffins and a monte cristo* and joining Keenan.

I'm not, at present, certain of the name of those sandwich things with swiss and ham that are fried and have powdered sugar about, but I think that's it.

The pair headed down to the docks, where the Daunting was tied up. "Where do you want to go today?" Keenan asked. "I know someplace I want to visit, but we might get in trouble if we're caught. So we just won't get caught, okay? But it'll be fun."

[OOC: I don't know what they're called, but ew, that sounds gross.]

Dante inspected the ship before casting off, talking to Keenan as he did so. "Yeah, I think we should visit that place, tonight before docking. I also heard of a festival, week-long, that is starting up the coast tomorrow. We should take a look at that next Sunday, maybe a quick peek at the place today. Some of the sailors say it's a definite must."

Dante grabbed the mooring line and cast it onto the deck before jumping onboard. The ship moved slowly in the wrong direction, but it was soon righted, and they were on their way.

"Your mom really does cook well. Maybe we could watch folks put up the festival for a while, or buzz Rebma. Maybe both. Dunno where Rebma is, though."

"Me either," Keenan replied. "It's underwater, though... so we'd have to leave the boat anchored in the water somewhere, and unattended. I don't think that's such a good idea..." He shrugs. "But we can go see what's going on at the festival... maybe we can make a few coins if we help!" He adjusted a sail to better catch the wind. "And you're probably right; we need to wait 'til later to go to that house. The ladies never seem to be up early in the morning. My mum says they hardly ever get out of bed... but they must, mustn't they? I mean, to eat and such? And I see them outside, too, so they do get out of bed sometimes." Keenan shrugged. "What sort of festival, do you know?"

[whenever you get a destination, let me know, so I can start ordering the set peices]

Dante nodded with some sort of internal rhythm. "Not sure, lots of feathers and masks... something about beads seemed to interest the sailors. Lots of pan-shadow folk show up and party. It sounds like we'd blend in, have fun. We could help set up, and then catch the last party day."

(I'm thinking Mardi Gras for this one)

"All right," Keenan says affably. "I like parties, and wearing masks sounds like fun. Because then no one will know that I'm the son of a prince. That makes people act all stupid sometimes." He made a face and shrugged. "I bet its the sort of place that my mum wouldn't want me going to alone," he said, "so make sure she doesn't hear about it."

"Sure." Dante made for the coast. The trip would take a few hours, but little downtime. They soon were coasting into the docks and securing their ship.

Keenan scrambled off of the boat and checked the lines before bouncing from one foot to the other impatiently. "Which way?" he asked. "I think I hear something over that way." He pointed. "Hammering. Maybe putting up tents or something."

Dante looked more casual, but only in contrast. He bounced off the boat and smiled. "Then let's go that way." The hammering grew closer as they walked the streets, until they entered what must've been a main street.

The sky was nearly blotted out as they entered the streets. Paper streamers were hung from every balcony and lamppost, creating a rainbow webbing over them and casting the colors of the dye on their faces. Even without the elaborate costumes that were beginning to emerge, Keenan and Dante were as multi-hued as harlequins.

Music poured out from every bar and store, and even a few street bands that looked more likely to live in the allyways than in a proper house. Even so, the hum of violins and guitars was pleasant, putting a bounce into their step.

Keenan looked around excitedly, his gaze flickering from one thing to the next so quickly he could hardly process what he was seeing. He wove down the street, unconsciously heading in whatever direction his eyes were looking, trying to take it all in at once.

"What do you think we should do first?" he asked Dante. "Where do you want to go?"

Dante thought for a few seconds, while following his friend about. "Maybe hang out with one of the bands. The decorations look like they don't need any help. I think I saw a stage or something a moment ago, maybe we could help with that?"

__________________________ "I'd like to dedicate this song... to a guy who hasn't seen anything good today. Keenan, this song's for you." --"Dante Bayle's Day Off"

"Okay!" Keenan agreed cheerfully, allowing his friend to lead the way. He approached the workmen who were erecting a temporary platform for bands to play on during the festival. "Anything we can do for you, sirs?" he asked the nearest one. "Me and my friend can help, if you need."

Dante nodded with enthusiasm while his thumb hitched at Keenan. "Yeah. What he said."

The men, beefy ex-sailors all, with muscles the size of either of the boy's heads, look down at them, and begin to chuckle.

"We could throw 'em up to the top of the poles, to hang lanterns," suggests one, with the tattoo of a woman carved into his arm.

"Nah," said another through a whistling checkerboard of a smile. "Stiff breeze would carry them off... Tells you what, kids... We need some candles. Bought some from the green house over there, but they ain't delivered yet. Can you go fetch 'em?"

The others tried their best not to snigger as they returned to their stage raising.

Keenan nodded. "Yes sir!" He headed off at a near-run towards the house the sailor had indicated, intent on completing his mission quickly and well as possible. It was a simple task, after all. Even his mother sometimes trusted him with running errands. There was no way he could muck it up. And then the men might stop laughing at them.

Dante was a little slower leaving, watching the men for a moment before following Keenan to the green house. He looked at the house as he was running, trying to make out what kind of establishment it was, and why getting candles from it would be funny.

Keenan walked boldly up to the door and knocked on it. "I don't see why they think us wanting to help is so funny," he said to Dante. "Just 'cause we're small doesn't mean we can't do stuff!"

"True," Dante said hesitantly as he walked up the stairs leading to the porch, careful to avoid creaking. "I'm not sure what they were thinking." He positioned himself on the porch so that he couldn't easily be seen by someone at the door.

A slot on the door opened, large enough to fit only a pair of man's eyes. The eyes stared down at them, crinkling with a frown. "Whatcha here for?"

"Candles," Keenan said, not in the least intimidated. "For one of the stages down that way." He pointed. "The men working on putting it up said that they'd ordered candles from here, but they hadn't been delivered yet, and could we go fetch them? So we're fetching them." He beamed up at the man.

Dante looked like he might, sorta, be there supporting his friend. He might also have been curious about what a train wreck looks like. And that was entirely the look he was trying to give.

"You want to buy... candles." The amusement was clear as the man considered the two men on the porch. The eyes turned away from the slot. "'Ere! Candy! We got to whelps looking to buy candles! Says they can go on the Lotterman Builder's Account!"

"Well, let them in!" came another voice, light and golden has honey, filled with a laugh.

The door opened to reveal a man that might have been up there with Gerard for girth in his better days, but now was more a solid block of fat and hairy tattoos. Behind him, a lady peered at the boys, a dimpled, red smile meeting them. She had a rosy face, most likey from paint, but it was still becoming. Her skirts were slit too high, her bodice too tight, and her cleavage too... there.

"Well... don't stand there, boys. Come in!"

Keenan stepped over the threshold without hesitation, smiling brightly back at the woman he assumed was Candy. "Hello, ma'am," he said, looking at her with unconcealed awe. She looked much like the ladies at the house they were going to visit later, that his mother was always muttering about. "We can't stay long," he said after a second. "They'll be expecting us back."

Dante followed his friend slowly, with a hint of suspicion in his movements. His eyes roamed Candy with veiled curiosity, avoiding looking at the man between them. "I have a feeling that the word 'wick' is going to be overused," he muttered to no one in particular.

The man turned to Candy, motioning to the boys. "We can't have them in here... They've barely got full heads of hair, much less something on their chests. The King'll have our deed."

She laughed, motioning for the boys to follow her up an ill-lit stairwell. "Only if the boys' story is too interesting. Come. We'll be charging Beck a meal for you two sprites."

Dante became more alert than he had been, and puffed himself out a bit while following the woman. He glanced at Keenan and shrugged, but his attention was not on his friend.

Keenan followed the woman closely, peering into the shadows to try and see what was there. He crowded close against Candy as they ascended the stairs, putting on a brave face but definitely nervous about where they were being led.

The halls were richly furnished, though nothing like the way the castle was set out. The Castle was cold, all the vases and pictures surrounded by a foreboding aura of 'don't touch!' Here, the walls were a rich, velvety red, run through with gold, and the carpet was soft enough to mask their footfalls completely. What ornaments they had out almost begged to be touched, from kinetic statues of silver and glass, to rich tropical plants that shouldn't bloom in Amber's chilled clime.

Candy took them to a door at the end of the hall, singing out a hello before opening it. A chorus of 'hellos' rang back at her, along with a rush of smells. There were perfumes hanging in the air, rich as grapes in the full fruit of summer, ripe for picking. Beneath that, though, there was the unmistakable scent of roast beef and stewed carrots and pumpkin pie. The boys saw the buffet first, fit for an Amberite. They saw the ladies second.

They were seated among divans and cushions, sofas and soft, furry rugs. They balanced plates on their laps and wine at their elbows and smiles on their lips. they were painted like portraits, trussed up in silks and ribbons. One of them, a sparkling girl of perhaps sixteen, laughed.

"You've brought us some small treats, having you, Can? They're darling!"

"Treats? No..." Candy ushered the boys to a loveseat. "We're just feeding the dolls, and charging a client who thought to make fun of us."

Keenan looked around, bewildered. "Then... there's no candles?" He chewed on his lower lip, and looked as if he might if Candy replied in the affirmative.

Dante, though he'd been expecting something like this, seemed to be in shock. His mouth hung barely open, with his mouth trying to form some glib phrase. Candles... something about candles entered his mind, which was currently occupying the moral bordertown of smut with a certain amount of reverance.

"It's not the heat," he muttered as he adjusted his collar, "it's the humidity. Must be for those tropical plants."

"They're darling!" squealed a girl with a tiny little mole on her cheek that danced when she laughed. "We should take them on as towel boys... What do you think, Candy? Think the mistress would let us? Old Donnie and Corbin are getting too old for that."

Candy busied herself with building a plate for the two boys, loaded down with beef and roasted pears and stuffing and sugared grapes and petit-fores. "I don't know... We'll have to ask the Madame, first."

"No point in not starting an interview now, though," said another woman, her tone husk and words coming out in white lines off smoke. She puffed at her cigarette holder, then studied the boys from underneath dark bangs. "What are your names, boys?"

Suddenly Dante's hair was standing on end. He had the intense urge to run, only barely keeping himself in line. "Dante," he said before hitching a thumb at his companion, "Keenan."

Keenan nodded. "Only we're not looking for jobs," he said. "But... what do you do here?" he asked curiously, moving away from Candy and taking a few steps towards the first girl that had spoken to them, or really about them... the one that didn't look to be any older than her mid-teens. "And what are your names?"

"I'm Pauline," said the youngest of them, helping herself to a slice of pear. "That's Eva," she nodded at the dark haired smoker. "And we have Tabitha, Ouest, and Mauve over there... Oh! And Annie!" Keenan turned and there was his tin kick partner, Annie, dressed in a smock and carrying several bottles of red.

"Kee!" She started, nearly dropping one of the bottles. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you!" he replied, in such a perfect facsimile of his mother that if any of them had known her, they would have laughed. He rushed over to her and took some of the bottles to carry himself. "I haven't seen you in forever!" he said. "I wondered whatever happened to you!" He looked her up and down. "Do you work here? I mean, I guess obviously you work here, but..." He chewed his lip. "I missed you, Annie. I went looking for you sometimes, but I could never find you."

Dante caught the tone, and smirked a little before taking note of the familiarity. He did not feel the need to intrude upon them. Instead, he looked up at Candy and quietly asked, "food, then? For us you say?" He motioned toward some of the rarer pieces of fruit.

Candy held a plate out to him, the one she had been loading while introductions went around. "For you," she agreed. "More than enough for two growing boys. Enjoy..." She settled down, lowering herself into a sumptuous recliner, taking up something that could have been a plum, were it not the color of jade. "Where do you hie from?"

Annie looked back and forth between the two young royals, panic rising in her eyes. She set the bottles down on the buffet, motioning for him to do the same. The ladies watched in bemused interest. "Well, we had to move out... Patrols got upped around there, so we went to the fishmarkets. Then it got cold, so we all found other places to work until the spring."

"Annie's got a beau...." one of them whispered, and Annie flushed. "Oh no?" the woman continued. "Where do you know him from, then?"

"He... He... He was in another gang." Annie fumbled uncorking the wine. "That's where we met. In a near bust."

Dante scarfed down the food, but his attention was more on those in the room. More than once a look of shock crossed his face as he realized he'd bitten into a rind of cheese instead of an apple. "Me, I'm from Begma."

Keenan managed to squash the confused look that rose to his face at Annie's lie, and nodded. "So do you like working here, then?" he asked. "I... I got a nice job, down by the docks, in an inn there." His face twisted as he tried to lie, not knowing whether he was being at all convincing.

Annie tried to keep a traight face as she poured a glass for the smoking lady with dark hair, and the woman gave her a slow, cat like smile. "Oh, Annie, you've got a beau who's gone legit. Aren't you the lucky girl? All the rest of us have scoundrals and princes. And he has a friend from Begma. You'll be a debutante of shadow before you're sixteen."

Annie only blushed, rushing to fill another upheld glass.

Dante's eyes went wide for a moment, and then he tried to compose himself. "You've got princes? Like, ummm... Corwin and Random? I didn't think..." his eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting that the princes aren't legit?"

"Don't tease her," Keenan said indignantly. "I'm not her beau. I would be if I was old enough, but I'm only eight!" He moved toward Annie as if to protect her from the playful accusations of the other ladies.

"Princes are legit," laughs a fair skinned red head. "But that doesn't keep them away from here. Who've we had lately? Random's been away since he got himself kinged, but I suppose he's got a passel up in the castle just for him... Then there's Martin, when he's bothering with Amber. Oh, and Merlin! Weren't you a fav of his when he was in town, Candy? And we've got Caine, of course..." She giggled, then gave the other girls a superior smile. "Or at least, I do..."

Her dialouge didn't pull much attention away from Keenan and Annie. The ladies cooed at the flushed stare Annie was giving Keenan. The dark haired woman chuckled. "Oh, Annie's got a legit future beau who's waiting around for her! We'll be reading about them in the penny reads, won't we, ladies?"

Keenan seemed relatively oblivious to the teasing as he looked uncertainly at Annie, suddenly afraid that he had upset her somehow. She was certainly staring at him as if he'd done or said something very wrong. He went to her and took her hands, looking up at her imploringly. "What's wrong, Annie? You wouldn't want me for a beau, if I was old enough?"

Dante looked at the ceiling at the mention of Caine. "Hunh. Well, um... what was your name?" He was trying not to blush, not to do anything. He had gone a little rigid.

"Marcie," she purred. "I certainly hope you aren't writing a proposal behind that cute little face of yours. The Prince likes his girls exclusive."

Annie looked down at her hands, connected to Keenan's, as if they were aliens suddenly attached to her body. "I-- I guess--" Around them the women giggled and tittered, and she turned a brilliant shade of red.

"Give her a kiss, boy," said one, "You gotta give sugar to get it."

Obediently, Keenan bounced up on his toes and kissed Annie's cheek. "It's okay," he told her, squeezing her hands. "I'm not old enough yet."

[OOC: Just a reminder, I'll be gone from the 29th - the 1st. I may get the chance to check my email and do quick responses during that time, but don't count on it. Happy New Year, all!]

Dante put his hands above his shoulders, "I wouldn't muscle in on Caine's action!" He gave a look at Marcie. "Why would he hang out with you?"

Marice cocked an eyebrow. "I've obviously got some training he likes."

"Pshaw--" The dark haired smoker blew out a ring. "Only training you've got is in bending over and lacing your bodice so you're popping out of it."

Marcie pursed her lips, sucking in a grape and biting it until it burst. "You're just jealous, you chessboard."

Annie began to tug on Keenan, trying to urge him to the door.

Dante found himself looking over Marcie, trying to figure out what -exactly- was meant. It didn't take long. "Yeah... bending over is probably a very important skill." He was trying to be polite, even nice. He ate a slice of melon.

Keenan allowed himself to be tugged away, figuring that Annie wanted to talk in private... which was fine with him, because he wanted to talk to her, too. He wanted to know if she liked working here, and how she was, and he didn't want the other ladies and all of their comments that made Annie blush getting in the way.