Curling Iron Refund

Goblintown, Midday

An overcast day from a recent rain casts the ragtag district in a glittery glow from manalights and random fires that were totally there before. A goblin woman with wild red hair and floppy ears in a rainbow headband is busy going back and forth with a vendor. "Yo! What the fuck is this 'bout, man?" she blabbers, jabbing a finger at a contraption that clanks and clatters about uselessly.

"Hey hey, missy, its just supposed to work once!"

"It's a gods dammed curling iron, not a belcher! Whadya mean supposed ta work once?"

He shrugs.

The frustrated, floppy eared gobbo throws her hands up and flips a finger as she steps off. <Goblin-talk>

A high pitched laugh rings from a pistachio colored goblin that had been walking past the spat. It's not /at/ the red-headed kin, but at her words and antics. Yellow-red eyes flick over the other woman. "How much did they take you for?" she asks, a resonating tone coming from her throat. "Goblintown isn't known for its deals, though some can be found if vigilant." she reasons, looking about the busy district, and shrugging.

"Depending on how much he fleeced, you might have options." another thought coming from Pirkko before she offers Slixvah a sincere and toothy smile. <Goblin-Talk>

The floppy ear gobbo flicks her head to the side and clucks. Ears, well, flopping about from the motion. "Not much," she huffs, holding up what might pass for a curling iron, but it's hanging off some hinges and a number of screws busted and stripped. "Just a couple coppa. Nothin' worth losing sleep over." <Goblin-Talk>

Sky blue eyes scan the pistachio hued goblin down, up. "What options ya thinkin'? I was jus' tryin' ta find a curling iron that heated up on its own," she smiles, switching to Trade and getting over the altercation.

"I don't lose sleep, but sometime I do listen to reports of bad trade practices." Pirkko notes as a fingers tug at a chain about her neck, a medallion of the Serpent's Compass produced. "Poke fun if you must, but I have an ear to listen." the woman offers, stepping to weave closer, letting others pass on the crowded street. <Goblin-Talk>

"If it's a replacement you are looking for, I can put in an inquiry with some friends." Pirkko answers, switching tongues easily. "So, umm. We uh, my accent bad or something?" she asks about the change, being a bit confused.

A door opens beneath a chorus of mismatched bells jangling, the flimsy portal rattling shut back in its frame with only a bit less cacophony a moment later. A wide-eyed gobber considers both directions in the cramped alley before exiting into the main thoroughfare beneath a swinging sign for 'Grapplsnap's Racks.' There's a simple painted picture of books beneath the goblin-talk scrawl to relieve passers-by of their illusions (be they torture- or lasciviously themeed).

Kristups stops again at the wider street's crossing, blinking out from behind reddish-black lids to consider the lamplit streets with amethyst-purple eyes. He holds a strapped trio of books to his chest in a poessessive hug. A gleaming dragonspitter sits in a holster affixed to his belts. Floppy eared gobber tilts her head to the side, spying the necklace and offering a little, gnarly toothed smile. "Ehh? Naw. Just lotta talkin' around," she waves vaguely. "Name's Jeski. I'll just find anotha one. Know any places that ain't gonna fleece me?"

She looks over briefly to the door opening, spying the gobber and his attire. "Hrm. Lost friend of yours?"

"No, not a friend of mine." Pirkko answers as Kristups is mentioned, and watched. "Yet."

"I'm Pirkko, Jeski." The pistachio-colored woman giving herself a name. "And hair products are usually best with the Kahazad. Don't get the innovation, but the quality can't be beat. But try combing your hair with a wire beard brush. It'll work, but it'll pull too." she teases, raising to cross arms under her chest. "Busy day, isn't it?" eyes still on Kristups, the books, and the dragonspitter.

Noticing he's been noticed, Kristups stops scanning the streets to look between Jeski and Pirkko.

He doesn't seem to be a big fan of blinking.

After staring maybe a beat (or twenty) too long, he spoils his blank expression with a smile. The kind of smile you practice in a tin mirror; it might not be winning but it'll probably cover the spread at your bookies.

The smile seems to take a bit out of him so he doesn't wear it for long. Instead, he takes a few steps towards the pair.

"Nice ta meetcha, Prikko," Jeski winks, one hand resting on a hip as the other makes the ruined hair straightener flip and flop about. A screw pops free. It falls apart to a clatter on the ground. Jeski rolls her eyes, kicking the scrap into a pile off to the side. "Ahhh, gotcha gotcha. I'll keep that in mind. Probs for the best. Gotta keep up with those beards somehow. Though gonna need heat instead of a brush.

She's being stared at. Shifts on her feet slightly. "... you uh... ya good man?" she says to the gobber man, a bit off put.

"I dunno. Maybe he's trying to communicate." Pirkko jokes towards Jeski, grinning with a flash of sharp teeth. "I think the smile means he's sociable." the crackling high tone coming with a jumbled giggle. "Could be wrong."

Turning to Kristups, Pirkko nods once, calming as she offers the man more of a smirk with no teeth. "The day find you well?"

The buckles on Kristups' jacket clatter quietly as he comes closer. He readjusts his grip on the books as he gets closer, holding them tighter to his chest. His wide-eyes betray a nervous energy the rest of his face seems to be ignoring.

"I don't say that good," he explains after forgetting to answer for a moment. He blinks. "Speak." Blink again. "Well." He clears his throat. Organizes his thoughts. "What they speak here. That language. I'm still learning."

The book on the outside of the carried stack is stamped 'LIVING UNDER CHARNISH RULE: A SURVIVAL GUIDE FOR ALEXANDRIENNES.' It's out-dated, obviously, and there's a typo on the cover. It might not be the most reliable source of information.

He tilts his head at Jeski. 'I am not a brigand,' he explains in jilted trade. <goblin-talk>

Jeski snorts at the jest, her shifting to her back foot. She waves a dismissive hand. "Totally fine, my guy. Trade's got some weird shit to it. Feels like I'm trying ta talk around a gag." <Goblin-talk>

Gaze flicks down to the books, then she giggles to herself. "First time in the city? Ya look like ya live at the docks." <Goblin-talk>

"I learned the trade talk as I did this one." Pirkko says with a glance flicking over Kristups as he speaks, the book noted with a small grin. "I wish you luck with it. I disliked it as a little one, but not so much now." her tone seeming to recall the study fondly.

"Yeah, the city seems to attract sorts from all places." Pirkko observes of Jeski's comments, sighing. "But what's so wrong with the docks? The boat life ain't so bad. I'm telling you, a little order helps some people." suggesting /some/ experience. <Goblin-Talk>

"I... do," admits the blue-green gobber, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Jeski. He's staring again as he attempts to suss out whatever witchcraft the woman employed to divine the location of his residence.

This inspection is interrupted by Pirkko's comments drawing a sidelong glance. "'Humans, elves, and dwarves put People on stakes or throw them in fires. Do you really want to know what they're saying while they do it!?'" The way he puts on a higher-pitched voice it's fairly clear he's parroting someone else's insights. He doesn't bother explaining who, though. He just shrugs out of his suddenly-manic energy.

"I liked the boat. I liked the woods more but..." he shrugs again.

"I can fix that." One arm untangles from around the books and he points at the broken doodad. He looks from it to stare Jeski in the eyes. "First one's free." <goblin-talk>

Jeski's snickering doubles as she guesses right. "Ain't nothing wrong with the docks. Just puttin' two and two together is all," she winks. Though, her attention shifts to the man, head tilting to the side.

Taking in that comment and energy. "Heh. Yeah," she says noncommitally,. "But better ta know what they like ta keep tha oil so they get burned as well, no?"

She looks him over, gives a small sigh, then offers the broken contraption over. "Keep it. I need somethin' different anyways. Appreciate it." <Goblin-talk>

"I believe we have seen different sides of the same coin." Pirkko says with a brow raising to the words about humans and dwarves. "It sounds like a story, but not one for here." she observes, sighing as she tries to skirt talking on that subject. "I'm sorry you experienced such things, but my experiences have been far kinder." the admission coming with an apologetic smile. One might think, her lips barely flashing teeth.

"It's about time I got on my way though, but perhaps another time. Mabye over some Ourch Chili?" Pirkko suddenly says, stepping away from the two. "Tide is changing, and with it the duties I need to stick to." excusing herself. "I'm sure the port and city are small enough we'll meet again." <Goblin-Talk>

Kristups takes a half-step back when Jeski offers the gadget over, the same suspicion turning his mouth into a frown. He looks down and then up and then back over his shoulder. The traffic in the street seems to hypnotize him for a second: so many moving pieces.

The gobber shudders and turns back, staring at the offered object and then snatching it. "~it's~a~feature~" he promises. His fingertips flash golden and the contraption pulls itself back together.

"Good deal," he decides. He missed saying good-bye to Pirkko. <goblin-talk>

GAME: Kristups casts Mending. Caster Level: 2 DC: 13

Jeski gives a light nod towards the fleeing pistachio gobber. "Probs! Catch you later, Pirkko, nice ta meet ya!"

Her attention shifts back to Kristups, a slight scoff leaving her lips. "Chill, it ain't gonna bite," she mentions as he swipes it. A brow raises at the display of magic, the typical surprise from most from random displays is lost on her. Instead, it's filed away. "Huh. Neat trick. Pretty handy."

She pulls free a piece of artifice, her brows raising as a timer that had been set is ticking near its end. "Agh. I gotta split. Have fun with that thing! Don't turn it on high or it'll go boom in your hair and that's /no/ good!" she grins, giving a cheesy curtsey with the ends of her jacket. <Goblin-Talk>

Kristups stares a bit longer and then turns, hoisting the books under one arm and holding his new hairdo'dad in his other hand. He tries to step into the street but hops back at the AWOOGA horn of a steam-powered wagon.

He'll just stand here for awhile.

-End Scene-