The Flaneur & The Gladiator

[Thomas]

31st Frost 4622

There were few things Thomas adored more than shopping. It was better when he was spending someone else's money, but even when it was his own, there was something straight-forwardly joyful about getting new objects. He also didn't mind buying stuff for himself versus buying things for someone else. The fun part was more about the hunt for the object and the acquisition of it. If there could be some negotiation and haggling, so much the better. Actually possessing whatever he'd bought was secondary. If he stopped to think about it, there may have been some lessons in that about the sorts of things in life he valued, but Thomas preferred not to delve into self-reflection whenever possible, and had spent the last year doing far too much of it.

Today was not about that.

Thomas had inveighed upon Zilrud to talk to him about what was wrong with the clothes he'd been provided. The man had been reluctant at first, but after it became clear that his human companion was not about to drop the subject until he engaged with it, even when he growled at Thomas or brandished his claw-like nails. Thomas was not dismissing Zilrud as harmless but he was starting to see that a lot of the gestures and threats were just bluster, or perhaps body language from an orkhai unused to socializing with humans, or some combination. When the orkhai didn't want to discuss something, he made it clear, and Thomas didn't push. This had not been one of those times, so he had.

To his delight, Zilrud had finally agreed to come into town with him and purchase a few outfits that would be to his liking. Thomas had done his best to prepare the big man for the reality of what this may be like: they would be going to various tailors, they would look at designs the tailors had on display and pick out cloth by looking at samples, and then the resulting clothes would be shipped to the estate. It was as much about fabric and color as it was about size and form, as few things in Lorien were ready-to-wear. Fashion could be designed by humans and then cut, sewn, and ported by Hollows, so what would be the point of the mass-produced clothing manufactories in Grisic or the slower artisan craftsmanship of the Four Kingdoms?

They had journeyed to Wendall's small townhouse in the city and departed from it still early in the morning. The shops would not be open just yet, but Thomas thought it would be better to get there early, before the crowds really kicked up. It would allow Zilrud to get used to the press of people and the rush of commerce. It also meant that if they ended up seeing a few vendors that didn't want to work with Zilrud, they'd have time to find others. Between the fact that he was an orkhai and the fact that he was Nameless, Thomas imagined this day may have more challenges to it than he'd let on to the orkhai when he'd pitched it, but he didn't want Zilrud to worry, so he'd portrayed this as a fun and necessary excursion. Zilrud needed clothes that made people realize he was their intellectual equal, and in his current ill-fitting attire, that was not the effect being achieved.

Thomas wanted the world to see the smart man he had gotten to know, not the big brutish barbarian people dismissed him as.

"So, all ready? Any questions about this stuff before we dive in?" He asked. Zilrud didn't seem nervous, but despite himself, he was.

[Zilrud]

Claws had been brandished as were grunts, looks of disgruntled natures, and huffed breaths when it came to the topic being pushed about idea of going shopping for clothing. Zilrud was perfectly fine walking with little to nothing on, but it seemed humans had a harder time accepting something like that than an Orkhai would. So after enough thorough convincing, Zilrud had agreed to go along with it on the condition that Thomas never leaves him alone with humans. He had left humanity alone for some time for a reason. He was not about to revisit those parts of his life for some soft tidbits of fabric.

Having pulled on a black, loose-fitting tunic and black, equally loose-fitting trousers, the Orkhai had made sure to be on decent behavior. For one, Thomas was the one doing the buying, and this was more his arena than it was Zilrud’s. Zilrud’s type of arena tended to be bloodier and did not involve clothing or acquiring clothing. There was a moment Zilrud needed more convincing even to step foot out to begin looking in general at the different ideas, but Zilrud knew what would work best for him.

With the question posed to him, asking if he was ready, a brow arched, and he looked down to Thomas and did not have an answer readily available. He was bathed, and clothed, save for his bare feet, and looked completely out of place. His mannerisms were not befitting of Lorien, nor did the Orkhai feel he would ever completely belong to the area, but he was trying to blend in at least, even if he still stood out something fierce in regards to the humans around. Taking in a deep breath, the green male allowed his red-eyed gaze to linger over the other, and he snorted out in his direction. Lifting a clawed finger to hook under Thomas’s chin, Zilrud angled the other’s face, so they were looking at one another. “I may not end your life, Little One, for suggesting things to me. But if one of these… People cross a line, I am not afraid to rip their throats out and drink their blood and marrow in the middle of their… Place.”

With the fingernail removing itself from holding to Thomas’s chin, it would be difficult to ascertain whether Zilrud actually meant he would harm others if they crossed a boundary with him or if it was more posturing, especially since he seemed to posture at times with Thomas, rather than following up on some of the threats even if he followed up on different threats and promises.

Taking in one last, deep breath, letting it out through his nose, he looked down over the tunic and loose pants he wore with an exasperated sigh, and his shoulders slouched just the slightest. “…I am ready, Little One. No questions. Will ask if I need to.” And with that, even if it sounded like he was entirely against the idea, Thomas could not have made the Orkhai get to the point they were both at. Some part of Zilrud wanted to see at least what humanity had to offer, even if his only exposure to them, outside of Thomas and the estate, was steeped in bloodshed and indentured service.

[Thomas]

Thomas chose to believe that Zilrud would not actually eviscerate a shopkeeper if crossed. He was pretty sure the orkhai wouldn't do so. Maybe eighty percent sure, which was decently certain. That dropped precipitously if anyone got too handsy or familiar with him, but something about a giant glaring orkhai kept most people at bay, so that did not exactly seem like a pressing concern.

"If someone does something you don't like, tell them to stop," Thomas said. "They'll listen to you, because they want to make money. I know you're used to the Rienese walking all over you, but one of the nice things about being a customer is you take some power back, because every shopkeeper that wants your business wants your coin."

As he walked with Zilrud to the garment district, Thomas marveled at the sights of town. It hadn't been so long ago that he spent most of his days in places like this: when people were busy and exhausted, they were easy to con or steal from. In softer times, they were also willing to stop to hear someone recite poetry or dramatic monologues, which he enjoyed a bit more but paid much less. At night, he preferred to be near inns or public houses or clubs to try to hook passerby into whatever he was selling, whether that was a business opportunity they couldn't refuse, trinkets of dubious origin, medicines of dubious quality, or himself.

Now, as an official member of the idle class, he was removed from the day-to-day of commerce, and he found it exhilerating after his time away. People were everywhere, eating warm spiced nuts from paper cones, listening to a busker near a hot spiced cider vendor, or just loafing. Perhaps they were waiting for friends to begin a shopping expedition, or perhaps waiting for a shop clerk to have a break. It was fun to think about, and Thomas found himself smiling as he contemplated the thrum of the crowd.

Mostly, though, they were shopping. In Lorien, as in Grisic, shopping was a fulltime preoccupation for many of the richer members of the nation, and it was an aspirational hobby for the middle-classes. In Lorien, unlike in Grisic, almost everyone had some amount of excess income, so shopping was a truly democratizing activity. Machinists and professors and the landed elite all bought clothes in similar neighborhoods, even if the clothes they received differed in cut and quality.

As they turned the corner to a row of tailor shops and garment cut-and-sew manufactories staffed by Hollows, Thomas looked up at Zilrud. He wondered what all this looked like through the orkhai's eyes, how it compared to Rokhan. The Rienese, for their part, kept their distance from the pair and did their best to pretend Zilrud did not exist, which Thomas found darkly amusing. He was a bit hard to miss, but the populace marked him as a Nameless and did their best to indicate that he was beneath their notice even as he towered over everyone on the streets.

"Coming up, there are a few places where I've bought clothes before. I'm not sure what it is you're looking for, exactly, so we can try each of them. We'll also get to look at fabric swatches, and you can feel them to make sure you like the texture and that they are pleasing to your eyes," he said, trying and failing to contain his enthusiasm.

[Zilrud]

It would have been an interesting hypothesis and eventual theory to put to the test what would truly make Zilrud react. What would be the hair trigger for him to take someone out in front of a mass of other people? When he was told to simply tell them to stop if they did something he did not like, the Orkhai gave a disgruntled snort and tilted his head to look at the other. “They should not do something I do not like if they want to keep their heads. They can not keep doing it if they have no head. I tell them to stop. They can just keep doing it.”

Zilrud knew money was an important thing, he just had never placed that much emphasis on it, at any point in his life. He knew the humans and others loved money, and some Orkhai even came to covet money, but he never had. And perhaps it showed in his simpleness and his desire to simply live off the land rather than have something provided to him or for him. Listening to Thomas, he was only slightly miffed at the idea of minding what he could say or do in terms of the Rienese.

As they were walking along, Thomas was doing his best to contain his enthusiasm for the shopping, and Zilrud knew that Thomas was holding it back. The Orkhai himself could have cared less about having actual clothes. He would walk around naked if it meant he could be comfortable, but that was not the way in civilized life, or so he was often reminded. Zilrud took notice of most of the people averting their gaze from him or giving a wide enough berth around him and Thomas that it was as if they existed alongside everyone else but in a bubble that set them apart.

What was he looking for in terms of clothes? He did not even know. He was happy with a sheet draped around him for clothing, but that was also not allowed. Something about bedding not being appropriate outerwear. Lifting his gaze as they were walking, he offered a single-shouldered-shrug as they walked, and he paused to look at a couple of people walking by, particularly men, to see the fashion and what everyone else was wearing. The ideas seemed nice, but a lot of it was stifling to him.

“Something that does not tear right away… And loose… And some leather.” Not necessarily all together in one item or set of items, but he had an idea for some things that he wanted. “Boots, too.” It was not normal for Orkhai to wear boots, except when they were going to hefty battles or war, but many Orkhai did not keep their bare feet in the snow for long periods. And although he could do it without a problem, the coldness his feet felt, and the pains as he was getting older occasionally bothered him enough to consider the idea of boots at least.

Clothing being pleasing to his eye was quite foreign to the Orkhai. He typically looked for functionality as opposed to designs. To that, he only had a single question because he did not know, nor did he care for it for himself. But as their shopping trip seemed to be important to Thomas, he knew it was a question that would lead to a whole can of worms. “What do you think will look… Good?” Zilrud was not into fashion and did not know what looked good in terms of clothing. He would need help, and it would also give Thomas a bit of a lead to guide Zilrud this way or that in terms of some ideas for clothes.

[Thomas]

Thomas had not at all expected Zilrud to ask his opinion on such matters. He had surmised that Zilrud took a utilitarian view on fashion. He seemed to care more about function than form, about flexibility and mobility than aesthetics. Thomas had assumed that at the end of this they would come out with a similar outfit to how Zilrud was currently dressed: loose, draped fabric gathered at the shoulders and the waist with few seams. Clothes that could be pulled on or wrapped and tied over clothes that had many buttons or a zipper, lest the claws nick the opening and damage them, or the man's body feel uncomfortably constrained by restrictive cloth.

"Well," he said, looking appraisingly at Zilrud. "There's a lot to work with, to be honest. You have a classic, quintessentially male shape to you: broad shoulders, shoulders wider than your waist. Good torso to leg ratio, too. Many of the little illusions that fashion can provide are not necessary for you. For instance, we do not need to provide the illusion of a narrower waist or bigger shoulders or a higher or lower midpoint, because aesthetically, everything is already how it should be for many garments."

"If you're asking me what I think would be good for you to be recognized as a civilized person and less likely to be dismissed based on your appearance, I think we should trend toward simple and refined clothes: structured shirts that are pulled over the head, for instance. Trousers that tie in place, or otherwise have a good allowance for those legs of yours so they don't pinch if you bend or squat. Perhaps some warmer garments if you ever find yourself cold or uncomfortable in the climate here. If you do not, a light jacket that is weatherproofed would nonetheless be a good idea, simply because it will protect your other clothes, like the peel of a fruit protecting the flesh."

"Footwear is entirely its own discussion, but if you want boots, we can get you some! I think that's a very good idea, because it will protect your feet from the snow and ice. Frankly, it's amazing to me you have not lost any toes to frostbite. I know you run hot, but even so, there is only so much blood that can go to the extremities. If you're looking to get leather boots, you may want to consider socks, as well. Otherwise, when your feet sweat, it will get into the boot and it will chafe. It will also keep your feet from smelling like wet boot," Thomas said with a bit of a laugh, "though I can understand that this may not be a primary concern for you."

With that information in mind, he steered them toward a leather goods shop first. He'd been intending to build Zilrud a wardrobe from the top down, but perhaps with this man it would be better to start from the bottom up.

[Zilrud]

At first, Zilrud was worried that he would get a lot of fashion talk thrown at him regarding colors, textures, fabrics, and styles. The Orkhai did not particularly care for any of that, and Thomas seemed to care a bit more about it than Zilrud did. The compliments to his physique, though, that he enjoyed hearing. His broad shoulders, good shoulder-to-waist ratio, legs, and torso being in good relation also seemed like Zilrud was a prime specimen for many things. One of which had the Orkhai’s eyes sliding over in a not-so-subtle manner and gave an appraising once over of Thomas.

There was that word again, civilized. It made the Orkhai’s nose crinkle to hear it said in such a way as if the Orkhai were not civilized in their own right. He understood that Thomas did not mean it that way, but others did. “What does Little One mean with refined clothes?” The Orkhai was genuinely curious about that. He understood simple, simple he could pull off, but he did not quite know what refined meant in the world of clothing and fashion. This led to his next question as Thomas seemed to be explaining it. “…Structured shirt?” Blinking, he was lost; Atharen was lucky if Zilrud wore a loincloth most days. Though he did have something to offer in terms of warmer garments. “…Warmer? Do not need warmer, but if it will help.” Zilrud knew a little about many things, clothing he knew next to nothing about other than the bare basics and simplest needs of it in terms of an Orkhai. Thankfully for the Orkhai, Thomas explained a good portion of it as if he were explaining it to a child or someone who had been locked away in a cave for a few years.

Was it that amazing that he hadn’t lost a toe yet? He hadn’t quite thought about it, really. Even when Thomas spoke about it, the Orkahi lowered his head as they stepped, glancing down to see his feet and looking at his toes. Were they cold? Sure, it was colder there, but they didn’t hurt anything too bad or needed to see a doctor of any kind. Thomas seemed concerned about it, so not only was he interested in boots for other reasons, but perhaps he could also appease Thomas since it piqued his interest a bit. When their direction was angled toward a leather goods shop, the Orkhai’s brows both lifted and he looked to Thomas as they walked.

“What do they sell in there? Boots? Other things?”

The Orkhai was genuinely curious. The leather he could handle and simple linen were things he was used to, and the texture would feel somewhat familiar. And up to that moment, Zilrud had not been very thankful of much of anything in terms of being forced to go shopping for clothing, but, rather than remain annoyed, which the Orkhai looked like most days, a large, clawed hand lifted and rested to the small of the other’s back. Normally, Zilrud would only touch Thomas to guide him or push or pull him if guiding did not work. For that moment, it was Zilrud’s attempt at trying to do things Thomas recognized, rather than the human always trying to reach his level. Between watching others, to try and learn, he was also practicing his Common more and more so he could speak less… Well, dumb. It was not that he thought he was dumb. He knew he was not. But speaking the way he would normally speak, many others would, which he did not care about, but Thomas did place emphasis on appearances, even if only a little bit.

…And it was worth the attempt if he continued spending time around his Little One.

[Thomas]

The hand on the small of his back was rather nice. While he was much more in his element than Zilrud was, it was still reassuring not to be out and about alone. Thomas had spent much of his adult life relying solely on himself. It was nice to have someone have his back in the unlikely but scary event that anything untoward happened while they were out.

Rather than answering Zilrud's question about the store directly, Thomas just opened the door and walked inside, closing it behind them after the orkhai followed him in. His eyes went to the shopkeeper. They did not immediately scowl or quaver, so perhaps they could do business here.

The interior of the shop had about what Thomas would expect: leather boots and leather belts. Leather jackets would be found in a different store, and leather armor would be unlikely to be found in the garment district at all. They'd have to go to where Argents congregated for stuff like that. Despite being married to one, Thomas much preferred to stay away from them. He was a law abiding citizen of Lorien, these days, but old habits died hard.

"Good afternoon," he said to the shopkeeper. "I'm Lord Thomas von Klade. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'd like your assistance in creating a pair of boots to the specification of my dear friend Zilrud," he said, indicating the orkhai.

He could see the wheels turning in the shopkeeper's head. A Rienese Lord making a request, but on behalf of a Nameless. After a notable lag, the man brightened. "Of course, my Lord," he said, "I'd be delighted to assist. What is it he is looking for in a boot?"

"While I could hazard some guesses, I'm not rightly sure," Thomas replied. He looked to Zilrud. "Zilrud, do you have any thoughts about your boots? Length, for instance, or color? I'm sure the shopkeeper has many pattern books he can show us," he looked to the shopkeeper, who nodded, "but knowing you want something ankle vs calf vs knee length would be good. And similar for make and color -- if you have a preference for what sort of animal the hide comes from or what color it is, that will help narrow it down. Once that's all done, the man will need to take some measurements of your feet, create a custom sole for you, and then make you the pair or pairs of boots we order."

[Zilrud]

Zilrud was attempting to expand on his own knowledge and actions. There was a reason for this, but it was not something he had readily shared. Expecting an answer or a rant from Thomas, he received nothing from the other except venturing into the shop with the leather. The smell of the material was distinguishable from most other things, as he had been used to leather. He had been used to more naturally cured hides and leather, a bit more rough-worked than what was available in the shop, but leather nonetheless.

When they entered, Thomas greeted the shopkeeper and introduced himself. The red-eyed gaze lingered on Thomas while he was talking and then on the shopkeeper, who seemed to be caught in a moment of thought. Once the shopkeeper turned out not to be rude to Thomas, Zilrud’s attention drifted to some of the things that were on display. Even the Orkhai did not quite know what he was looking for. Orkhai had boots, but they served different purposes than what he was looking for now. Leaning over just a bit to take in one of the models of a potential boot he could have, he noted it looked too dainty and did not even come to the ankle. That would definitely not be a boot for himself.

Lost in the different smells and sights that were in the shop, the Orkhai did not hear that Thomas was deferring to him to inform the shopkeeper of what it was he was looking for, not until Thomas was talking and kept saying you rather than talking about Zilrud to the shopkeeper. Raising his right brow, he tilted his head in the other’s direction and realized the pair of them were looking at him, waiting for answers and replies to what Thomas had been saying.

“…What?”

Zilrud had honestly not been paying too much attention. The idea of an Orkhai in a shop that was not part of his typical routine or lifestyle choice meant the Ork was trying to adjust rapidly. So rather than politely talking about what he wanted, the Orkhai’s hands slid down along his body, then up, under the tunic to grip the waistline of his pants, fully prepared to drop them for ease of bending and moving. At that moment, he remembered Thomas’s warning about going against what the Rienese were used to, and open nudity was not one of them, at least not in the garment district. Pausing, he looked up to Thomas, then the Shopkeeper, his thumbs in the waistline, ready to drop his pants.

Grunting, realizing his error, he paused long enough to pull his thumbs from his waistline and instead brought himself closer to where the shopkeeper was and reached down, hoisting up his leg after gripping the pantleg and lifted it high enough so that the Orkhai’s clean, but still barefoot were on display to the shopkeeper. Resting it on the counter or any other surface nearby, Zilrud would point to it. “Fit comfortably on Orkhai’s foot and leg. Maybe boots come up here.” Hobbling a little bit on his foot, a clawed finger pointed and motions towards just above the wide birth of his calf muscle. “Black… Brown… Grey…” They were not exciting colors, but Zilrud knew what he would like. “Easier to slide on or strap on. Laces okay. Whatever fits and is comfortable. Won’t break easily.”

Zilrud did not know it, but his mentioning of what he wanted merely meant black, grey, or brown calf boots, didn’t matter how they were pulled on, and could fit him and would not break two days in. Leaving his foot on display for a moment, he looked over to Thomas and remembered something he had said. Grunting, he pointed a thumb in Thomas’s direction. “Also, keep feet warm and protected. Little One does not want toes lost. Can you do?” He asked the shopkeeper, still leaving his lead perched upward, waiting for a response from the other.

[Thomas]

As Zilrud got in the shopkeeper's personal space in order to demonstrate exactly what he wanted Thomas maintained eye contact with the man, straightened his posture, and broadened his smile like a charismatic shield to protect Zilrud from the social consequences of his actions. Thomas was not above pulling rank, and he'd had a feeling that he would need to during this expedition, so he was dressed in the sort of finery that garment workers would notice and appreciate: plain cut clothes that were made of the kind of sumptuous, rich fabrics that those in the know understood to mean that he had so much money that he didn't feel the need to call attention to it. It was a lie, of course; he'd call as much attention to his rank and prosperity as was merited. If he met someone who missed the subtler cues, he had an expensive Griscian pocket watch to whip out, the gaudy kind with rubies inset into the case and the single ring that adorned his finger had a rock big enough that it weighed his hand down.

So as the shopkeeper shrank back, his eyes flitted back and forth between the orkhai's clawed foot and muscular legs and Thomas' face. Thomas nodded at the man in satisfaction. Good. Commerce could trump decorum. It was something Thomas was rather counting on during the course of this expedition.

"So, ah -- that is -- you want," the shopkeeper stammered.

The Rienese were not the sort of people that got overly close to one another, and Zilrud had gotten very close indeed. Thomas laid a gentle arm on top of Zilrud's with a slight tug indicating that he should move out of the shopkeeper's personal bubble.

"Sturdy calf-length leather boots, suitable for marching, thoroughly weather proofed against snow and ice. I think a metal cap so that his nails don't puncture the leather from the inside, as they can get quite sharp and would cause wear over time. Laces are fine, but keep the buckles and such to a minimum. Let the ornamentation be the form of the boot, not in its decorations."

The shopkeeper nodded. "I think I have a pattern or two that will be suitable, Lord von Klade and ah -- esteemed guest." He said, managing an odd head nod in an approximation of a bow, before he scurried off to grab the aforementioned patterns.

Thomas used his chin to point out a set of low couches. "I believe, Zilrud, it's time for us to be seated and review patterns. Try to imagine how they will feel on you as you see them. They should be able to be made to whatever sort of leather you prefer, but if they look to be too tight or too stiff or otherwise unsuitable, take heed of these concerns and bring them up."

[Zilrud]

Typically, the Orkhai had zero sense of personal space, nor did he expect to be respected. To him, if someone did not want someone so close, they simply said something or stepped away. So, when he had propped his foot up and had motioned to his foot and calf while explaining, he had not thought twice about the closeness it had brought him to the vendor. It was only when the shopkeeper attempted to speak to him and stammered that Zilrud lifted his gaze up from his foot and looked to the shopkeeper as if he had some form of mental distress or disorder. Did Zilrud accidentally slip into Mordrub? He tried not to do that, as a majority of people did not understand the language. Even then, when he noted that Thomas was laying an arm on top of his and gave him a tug, Zilrud turned to regard Thomas with curiosity. Blinking as he was tugged back, his foot was removed and landed on the floor, and he was motioned back a bit.

Part of him loathed humanity. There were so many rules, unspoken needs, and desires for interaction that it was annoying. And even then, humans tended to act… Differently, for a moment, those thoughts breached the forefront of his mind. Still, with Thomas translating the common, which Zilrud had thought he had spoken perfectly and used more words than he typically would, to a more perfected and eloquent common, the Orkhai lifted his gaze to the shopkeeper and pointed a clawed hand at Thomas. Everything Thomas had said was exactly what the Orkhai had said, just flashier and prettier. “What Little One says.” Even a confirming nod was given to the shopkeeper as he turned to look for a pattern.

Esteemed guest.

That caught a narrowing of red eyes on the shopkeeper before Thomas gestured to the couches. “Patterns?” There was more than one way to make a boot for a foot and leg his size? He half figured it was a one-size fits all type of thing, and he would just get measured, and what he got was what he got. So, when the Orkhai turned and made his way to the couch, he looked down at the couch and paused when he was given instructions by Thomas on what to expect. “Imagine if they are tight?” That made zero sense to him. If the shopkeeper was measuring his foot, should it not be tight? Turning to take a seat, he lowered himself down onto the seat with another grunt.

The cough was not made for Orkhai, and it was evident as his knees were bent upward a bit more than needed in front of the Orkhai. Looking at Thomas, the Orkhai took in a deep breath and looked at his bare toes as he leaned forward, considering the idea of covering his feet. Thomas had made a few references to the need for shoes and clothing. He would try it if the humans helping him did not go too far.
Though he did have another question for the shopkeeper that would have to wait until after he had returned with those patterns, and if Thomas joined in sitting beside him, the Orkhai lifted a muscled arm and draped it around Thomas if he were close enough. And if Thomas were not close enough, he would grab him and pull him, so he was close enough to do so.