Ignorance isn't always bliss.

12th Tria, 81380

Three past ten in the morning.

It was yet another morning on Mansukh's east coast. People had already gone on to their daily jobs, children had been sent off to school. The occasional homeless pendragon was resting on the streets. A number of the population (and tourists) wandered said streets, often ignoring the homeless. Very young children could be seen chasing each other. All in all, it was a regular Tria morning.

West stage, a local tavern - enter a brown and gold Lukuo covered in feathers, moving on two feet, with a backpack slung over his shoulder. His black claws gently scratched the tiled floor of the pub as he pushed open the door. An orange bandana tied around his neck and a pale blue pair of denim pants were the only articles of clothing that he wore; it was a hot day and he wouldn't particularly need too much warmth. Due to the planet's taboos and whatnot pendragons only ever needed to wear clothes if the temperature was too cold, but they still often wore them for whatever reason. The Lukuo in question didn't always wear clothing. Today, however, he decided to put on the 'jewellery' - he felt like it. That was all.

"G'day there Osador!" A voice snapped the arden out of his drifting thoughts. His dark eyes met those of the bartender, also a Lukuo, but with eight limbs - two arms, and two legs. The spiderlike pendragon had bags beneath his eyes, but he still managed a smile. "You haven't been 'ere in a while."

The raptor-like arden chuckled softly. "No, I haven't. My bad. Usual, thanks."

"Sure thing," the bartender called out as he turned to some of his assistants. Osador took his seat at a table near one of the windows. The seats were mostly the same; metal and some sort of plastic with a hole in the back for the occupants' tail. He slung the backpack off of his... back and placed it beside him on the floor. The sound it made as it landed suggested that there were tools made of metal inside. He sighed softly, looking at the view of one of the ocean which Mansukh's east coast was border to.

A sign caught his eye. The symbols on it would have spelt out what the sign was - it was advertising a fisherman's shop - but to Osador, they were still shapes which he had trouble deciphering. "F, I, S, H... E, M, P... what? Oh... E, M, P, O P... no, P O R, I, U, M..." The letters at the very top were, regrettably in Ramathian. If only he could learn what it was; perhaps it would make learning to read English easier?

"Fish Emporium, Osador."

"Oh-- thanks." He smiled at the feydragon waitress who gave the illiterate Lukuo his usual breakfast - the scrambled eggs of some species of bird, with the juice of a tropical fruit. He didn't pay any tip; he didn't have to, as he had promised the bartender that whenever he ate there, he would do some work as a cook for him in return. To them, it was a fair exchange. Occasionally the other employees would help him overcome his disability, but for now...

He closed his eyes, smiled slightly, then opened them and began to tuck into breakfast.

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class='ooc'><tr><td>And there you have it - my return to roleplaying! The bartender and other employees are NPCs, but they're important people in Osador's life.

And no, the posts don't have to be that long - this is just an introductory post to Osador and his way of life. The rest of my posts will most likely be shorter.

"Osador? Vyld'ra Osador?" Yes - he goes by his last name. :P</td></tr></table>

 

If anything, Osador's way of eating was slightly sloppy; he did use a spoon and fork, thankfully, but a bit of scrambled egg did escape from his mouth. After about two mouthfuls, which it almost seemed he'd swallowed whole, he grabbed the glass of juice and downed a significant amount. If one knew the circumstances he'd been in last night, they would see why he was basically wolfing down his breakfast. Something involving a restaraunt and his ever-so-typical problem.

It was whilst he placed the glass down that he heard the jingling of jewels from just across the table he sat. The Lukuo's first thoughts were of slight panic. Wait - someone's here. Someone heard me having trouble with reading. Someone knows my secret! Alarm bells were going off in the poor arden's head, yet it didn't stop him from looking up and seeing a dark blue thill sitting across the table. An awkward, slightly comical expression was on his face for a moment.

She greeted him and stated her name. Great... how'm I... "Uh, hello." If this Ryokko was slightly embarassed, Osador was downright so, as well as panicked. A bit ashamed, even, having inadvertedly revealed his illiteracy in front of a complete stranger. Now what... Eh, she seems friendly... better be careful.

Swallowing slightly, with a bit of red touching his face, he spoke. "My name's Vyld'ra Osador, miss. Pleased to meet you." Okay, so the second part sounded half-hearted (and it was obvious, too) but at least he'd tried. Poor guy.