Log Date: 7/22/97, 8/12/97 Log Cast: Ottar, Tog (NPC), Aislinn, Roki (NPC), Elette (NPC) Log Intro: For the young woman known only as Aislinn, working the streets of Coronet City for those willing to pay coins for dancing or the reading of the cards has grown harder... and the stay in the homeless shelter beneath the city proper a more dangerous one, particularly with three young sentients under her care. With only herself to care for, it'd been easier, but protecting and feeding Roki, Tog, and Elette has introduced Aislinn to previously unknown hardships. Thus far she has kept them successfully out of danger, but she's also had to yield her pride in favor of accepting charity from one man who's visited the shelter to give out free food, and for the sake of the two small humans and the small Drall she has taken under her wing, she has to decide now whether she can afford that kind of trust a second time... ---------- Homeless Shelter --Under Coronet The shelter area is a large cavern with walls of steel giders and other scrap castaways from construction of the city above. The area is sprinkled with bodies of the sleeping homeless, curled up in whatever kinds of cloth they can find to keep their bodies warm. A soft moaning echos at all times from the restless in their nightmares. There is a burning trash drum over which food can be cooked if there is any to be found. If no one else takes it first. Contents: Ottar Obvious exits: astwards leads to Underside Way -- Under Coronet City . Ottar walks in and glances around, smiling slightly to himself as he glances at some faces of the bodies curled up. As he looks around he starts to look lost in memories, when he finishes his quick scan of the homeless shelter he sighs and turns towards the door. In one corner of this dark and shadowed place, a small set of features, furred, with brown beady eyes, peeks from around a corner made by one of the rusting girders. The furred visage vanishes a moment, only to be replaced by an older one, dark-skinned, blue of eye. Ottar You see a human male standing around six feet in height. He has unruly black hair; most of which is combed forward in an attempt of seeming somewhat presentable. He has deep blue eyes that permeate a sense of kindness to anyone who looks into them. A short black beard covers most of his jaw and looks a little unkept. He wears a light brown work shirt over which Blast Vest Armor is worn loosely. He wears dark blue pants which has pockets of all sizes; some of which look to be occupied. On his feet he is wearing black boots; which look worn and well used. Around his waist a blaster holster is strapped so it can be quickly accessed. Carried Objects: Hvy-Blaster Pistol Blast Vest Armor -WORN- Ottar walks a few steps towards the door then turns and looks over his shoulder and back around the shelter, his face showing some sadness as he looks upon the bodies curled up. A pair of blue eyes in that dark face in the shadows considers the stranger; it is shortly joined by another small set of features, paler, green-eyed. Tiny whisperings come from that corner, before the two smaller figures are abruptly hustled out of immediate sight. Ottar catches a quick movement and glances towards around again then half-turns his body back into the shelter and stops there. His face saddens as he glances at the faces of the homeless laying off to the side of him. After a brief hesitation he crouches down beside a small mass of rags laying on the floor and then converses with the mass in low mumbles. When it becomes evident that the unfamiliar one is not planning to approach the fire, there is another movement in that shadowed corner... and abruptly a slim figure steps forth, padding on silent feet towards the embers in the trash bin. She bears a stick in one hand, and what looks like three small ration paks in another, and she strides with head lifted in an incongruously regal bearing, given her shabby surroundings. Ottar chuckles softly and then moves his body in between himself and the eyes of most of the other beings and seemingly reaches into a pocket and withdraws something, keeping it hidden in his hand. He clasps hands with the being and smiles a sad smile and watches as the being looks at what it was just given. As quickly as it can it bows its head towards Ottar and then raises itself to its five foot height and half limps towards the exit of the shelter. Ottar sighs and watches the retreating form of the being and then turns and looks around the rest of the shelter. The figure by the fire pokes her stick into the embers, considering them gravely as they ever so slightly begin to sputter and crackle in response to her careful proddings. When a small tongue of flame finally leaps into life, she lays the ration packs in the dully glowing ashes, again with a cautious touch; her hands are dark delicate shadows against the dim little fire. Ottar glances at the figure by the fire and watches her for a moment and then slowly stands and starts towards her. He steps over a large mass of fur and a scaled body and then stops noticing a familiar face, crouches down and he gently attempts to shake the young human male awake. Sighing as the body is stiff and cold he checks for a pulse and frowns, bowing his head to conceal his face, he mumbles a few words. The dark-curled head remains ostensibly pointed by the fire; the female figure, dressed in what might be vividly hued, exotic clothing if it were not worn and shabby with age, is rather more notable in closer proximity. Her stance appears casual enough, but that may mean little. Her back and shoulders remain for now to her observer, as she watches the small flames in the trash bin lick about the packages she has placed in the ashes. Ottar shakes his head and raises one hand to his face, slowly he rises and then looks back towards the figure by the fire. He slowly picks his way through the bodies on the floor, one or two reach up and pull on his clothing. To those few he just looks down sadly and then carefully removes his leg from their grasp, speaking a few words quietly to them. He reaches the barrel and then glances down at the fire and then to the person cooking rations. She is human, and young, it would seem; her skin is dark, catching the dull firelight in occasional glints of gold. When she sees the stranger, her head lifts ever so slightly, just enough for a brief searching blue gaze to take the measure of this other; she looks quickly down once more, however, either unwilling to provoke what might prove to be unwise contact, focused on the paks she is heating, or both. Ottar smiles warmly to her as she looks up then glances back down to the paks and speaks softly in a semi-hoarse voice so only those right beside him can hear. He looks back up at her face as he talks, "Would you like to go and get some more pratical clothing and a good meal?" He talks slowly, searching for words as he watches for her reaction to his words. _That_ catches the female's attention. Her head lifts again, giving a better view of sculpted features and a too-thin, too-pointed chin and jawline; black eyebrows lift, and blue eyes consider the offer and its maker, searchingly. She then answers back in strangely formal cadences, "Your offer is most kind, O noble master, but unless you can extend it to four, I shall have to decline it." Ottar smiles and nods briefly, his somewhat young face loosing some of the sadness that was in it from before. He glances around while replying, his voice a little stronger, "Four is just fine, although I am not any kind of master, or for that matter very noble." Those blue eyes remain on the stranger, even as the female produces a worn kerchief of some sort -- faded silk, perhaps -- wraps it around her fingers, and scoops the paks out of the heated ashes. Her head inclines once, then, again in that strangely gracious manner, and she says, her soft low voice almost casually curious, "Were this humble one to accept your generosity, to what place would you take me, and those I feed?" Ottar searches her face as he shrugs slightly, considering the question. "To anywhere that you would like, where you will get decent food, and then later hopefully some more suitable clothing for this climate." That dark dusky face is carefully neutral of expression, save for that searching blue regard. After a moment, with the three paks in her silk-wrapped fingers, she beckons with that hand. "Come you, now." She turns and pads back the way she came; in that dark corner from which she had emerged, three pairs of eyes might be seen to be peering cautiously out from hiding. Ottar nods slightly and tries to peer into the dark corner to which he slowly follows the young female. He looks downwards soon to watch that he doesn't step on anyone or anything. "Roki. Tog. Elette," calls the young female, quietly, to that shadowed corner. As she does, two of those pairs of eyes resolve in faces; the furred one tha that had peeked out before, and the grubby visage of a small boy with red hair. After a moment, in a softer and gentler tone, the female calls again, "Eletsha, show thy face, now," and that brings forth a smaller little set of features, ghostly pale in the darkness save for huge liquid dark eyes. All three small faces focus on the strange man behind the female; the boy's eyes narrow, and the Drall-cub quirks its furry head. Once the three children are visible, at least their faces, the female turns back to her companion. "Can you provide good food, and clothing, for these littles?" she asks gravely. Ottar watches her and glances at the young beings that appear from the darkness. He looks them all over and frowns slightly as he looks at their clothing and then without hesitation he nods to her, turning his gaze back to her. "If you are willing to go into the stores and pick out the clothing, I will gladly pay for it all, as well as with the food." He looks back at the young ones assembled in front of the female and sighs mumbling something to himself. Indeed, the little boy and girl are quite shabbily dressed, their garb as thin as the young woman's; the Drall-cub is wearing nothing, but its fur is matted and clearly needs a good washing. At the mention of stores, though, the boy-child gapes at this, whispering, "Stores, Linn?" to the woman; the Drall-cub squeaks in startlement, and the tiny pale girl simply wraps herself around the woman's left leg, peering timidly and silently up at the stranger. The dusky female takes in the reactions of the children, and pauses to give each of them one of the three ration-paks she had warmed in the fire, touching each of their heads as she does so and murmuring to them. The boy and the Drall help the little girl with hers before they tear into their own, but all three children watch the stranger warily as the female who would seem to be their guardian straightens up again. She, too, holds a hint of wariness in her gaze, though her tone remains graciously polite as she says, her eyebrows raised in delicate feathery arches, "We can pay for a meal this night, but no place of quality would admit us." Her tone is not recriminatory, nor bitter; it simply states That Which Is, and her gaze suggests an underlying question, 'What will you offer to do about it?' Ottar nods slightly, watching the children for awhile before looking back at the young female. "We can go to a clothing store first, I will make sure that you get enough clothes to last awhile." His voice is still hoarse but throughout the last sentence gains determination. He motions to the little Drall with one of his hands, "For this little one I think we can find someplace that will clean him up. And then we can get a good meal and see about provisions for the future after you all have full stomachs." The boy and the Drall-cub, the broth that had been in the ration-paks already inhaled down their apparently vigorous gullets, stare hard at this black-haired man, as does their guardian. "Yes," she murmurs, "we shall speak of it." But she turns to the younglings, and leans down to instruct them in whispers, "Come you now, all. Walk with caution. Come." Ottar smiles slightly to the young female and the three younger ones and then steps back, carefully stepping over a sleeping being and motions for the young female to go ahead. "I know nothing about what you and these young ones need." He struggles for words, thinking about how best to word his lack of knowledge on that subject. The children creep out of hiding, clustering near their guardian warily; the woman leans over to scoop up the tiny girl, who is still clinging to her ration-pak and sucking the broth within it down, making every drop last. As the boy and the Drall-cub exchange low mutters, the woman begins to lead them out, while she murmurs to their companion, "My littles need what all littles need: food in their bellies, shirts upon their backs, and warm and safe places to sleep." She does not observe that the shelter does not qualify for this last. "Tog needs a bath," says the redheaded boy, piping his voice to a low whisper to imitate the grownups, and the Drall-cub chirfs and smacks him with a paw. "So do you, Rokisha," replies the woman, unruffledly. If she is aware of the jealous gazes of some of the other denizens of the wide dark cavern as she passes, she gives no sign of it, but merely leads her charges to the exit. Ottar follows closely behind them, listening to the woman and trying to remember it all. He stares down at the floor, thinking of the four beings leading him. You head eastwards through the reasonably wide tunnel, emerging into... Underside Way -- Under Coronet City Coruscant's underground city is located beneath the steel workings of Central City. The Underground Way is the only policed portion of this city, afterwards it tumbles into chaos. The sky is rusted steel girters mixed with the occasional rock formation. However, the main structure surrounding the whole underground region is of old buildings that were not destroyed, but simply built over. The only light in the area comes from scattered lanterns hanging from various different implements around the roads, streets, and darkened side allies. Obvious exits: outh leads to The Slicer -- Under Coronet . orth leads to Homeless Shelter --Under Coronet . ast leads to Coronet Park -- Coronet . Ottar comes from the shelter in the west. Ottar has arrived. The woman carrying the little girl might be striding through a wide open street on Alderaan for all the attention she gives to her shadowed surroundings -- but then, her stance as she walks is that casual one that suggests that she is, in fact, studying what she passes while pretending she is not. The boy and the Drall-cub, squabble apparently forgotten, flank her on either side now, both of them scanning the night about them with rather less success at hiding it, but both of the little creatures look quite alert. Ottar follows closely behind watching the woman and the little ones beside her. He nods slightly to himself then looks around at the street and the beings along the street. You leave the tunnel and emerge above ground. Coronet Park -- Coronet Amidst a suburbanite jungle there exists this refuge of nature, a large park. By galactic standards Corellia is fairly vegetation heavy, though this only means a few trees seen here and there within windows, or perhaps lining a laneway. However, here is the prize of Coronet City, Corellia's capital. A huge park, stretching from one district to the other, centered in the middle of it all. Roads criss-cross, spring out of nowhere, and weave amongst the multitude of gardens, fountains, statues and benches located without the park. Several huge Salbralt trees tower to the sky, displaying their purple coloured leaves to the Corellian sky. A variety of flowers can be found at the feet of the various trees, and are arranged neatly within stone surrounded gardens about the park. Fountains sprinkling fresh, clean water shoot up all over the park grounds, errupting from statues, basins, or even the ground itself. Benches, mainly located by the fountains, are there for those weary in the feet. Four main laneways, paved with stone, lead from east to west, and north to south, meeting in a crossroads at the center of the park where the largest of the fountains is located. Obvious exits: ast leads to Pendari Hospital -- Coronet . est leads to Underside Way -- Under Coronet City . orth leads to Greeting Gallery -- Corona House . outh leads to Trader's Way -- Coronet . Ottar emerges from the underground. Ottar has arrived. Only once she and her charges have emerged into the park does the little girl in the woman's arms peek timidly up from her guardian's chest. The woman, in the meantime, says calmly to their companion, "We typically bathe in the fountain when the security patrols pass elsewhere. If you can suggest aught better, we shall listen." Ottar continues to follow along behind the shabbily dressed beings in front of him. He watches them mostly then frowns for a moment. "Not unless you want to come up to my room at the hotel and get cleaned up there. I could let you in and then go and get some food..." He shrugs looking towards the woman. "A hotel?" echoes little Roki, in clear astonishment, his voice a trifle louder now that they are away from prying ears in the shelter. The Drall-cub squints dubiously up at the stranger, while the woman carrying the still-silent little girl Elette turns her head momentarily to study the man. She slows, then, and stops. "Can you offer your word that they" -- and her dark head inclines towards the children -- "will not be harmed in a place alone with you?" Her tone once more contains no hostility, simply query -- but her blue gaze is a level one, expectant, and deeply searching. Ottar nods slightly at the request, and stops when the woman does. "They nor you, will be harmed if left alone in my care. I give you and them my word." He looks them all over as he says this. Roki and Tog peer at this; the boy's eyes narrow thoughtfully, and the little Drall sniffs curiously, as though trying to take the man's measure from his scent. Elette's liquid dark eyes, even more searching in their depths than the blue ones of the woman, simply watch everything, until the woman inclines her head in response. "Lead us, then; we shall follow." Little Roki's face breaks into a wide grin; clearly the boy is fascinated by the idea of going to a Real Hotel, and he grabs Tog by a furry shoulder and mutters excitedly to him. Ottar nods and looking at all their faces once more he takes the lead, not glancing from side to side as earlier, but walking slowly and straight through the crowds. Focused on the task of following their companion, now, the woman carries the silent girl, while the boy and the Drall scurry along beside her, taking three steps to every two of hers. Ottar goes into the southern district. Ottar has left. You go into the southern district. Trader's Way -- Coronet The Trader's Way is a wide road, designed for both groundcars and foot travel. The road is well maintained, though is slightly dirty along the fringes, with odd pieces of left overs from travellers lining the side. The houses and appartment buildings on either side have a lived in look, with laundry hanging out on some balconies. The sleek plastisteel of the light fictures along either side mark a contrast to the old-style brick of many of the houses. Contents: Ottar Obvious exits: oor leads to Dark Building -- Coronet . est leads to Entrance -- The Red Dragon . North East leads to Nova Armaments -- Coronet . ast leads to Trader's Way, East End -- Coronet . orth leads to Coronet Park -- Coronet . ransport leads to Coronet Transport Station -- Coronet . Ottar slows down and looks at all the stores, quickly finding what he was looking for he resumes walking. Ottar continues along the Trader's Way going eastwards. Ottar has left. You go eastwards along the Trader's Way. Trader's Way, East End -- Coronet (#1237R!Lnt) The resident's buildings become more scarce as the road continues towards it's eastward destination. Where houses would have stood on the western portion of the road, there are now shops of multitude of ship components, trade items, foods and goods of to many varieties to mention. The noise, music, and murmer of voices from Treasure Ship Row can be heard even from here. The smells of things sweet and good mingle with aromas which aren't so appealing to the senses. Contents: Ottar Obvious exits: ast leads to Token Corporation . outh leads to Seaward Inn -- Coronet . orth leads to Hexi Street -- Coronet . est leads to Trader's Way -- Coronet . Ottar glances to the sides at the shops and street merchants as he slowly makes his way through the street towards the Seaward Inn. Periodically he glances over his shoulder to make sure that everyone is still keeping up. The children -- at least, Roki and Tog -- start gaping as they pass more and more shopfronts. All manner of enticements to their eyes and ears clamor for their attention; the woman, evidently unfazed, strides calmly along on her sandaled feet, carrying little Elette without comment. The girl-child peers cautiously every so often in the direction of a shiny trinket in a windowfront, or a gauzy dress, or, most often, food. Ottar has left. Seaward Inn -- Coronet The wood floors of the inn are stained black from use; dirt long ground into the very fibers of the wood. Even so, the floors still manage to shine as if well polished. The entrance to the inn is extremely busy, and therefore extremely large. The ceilings are high to accomodate the multitudes of aliens that make use of the inn, and the passageways are wide, allowing several to walk abreast. The wooden passage way ends in a broad stairway, though before that there is a passageway to the east leading to the bar or cantina for the inn. It seems to be getting the most flow of people who come into the inn. Contents: Ottar Obvious exits: tairs leads to Second Floor -- Seeward Inn . ar leads to Bar Room -- Seeward Inn . ut leads to Trader's Way, East End -- Coronet . Ottar sticks close to the wall and slows down to make sure that they can follow him. He heads towards the stairway muttering something about the crowds. He reaches into a pocket and pulls something out, enveloping it in his hand so it isn't visible. It is with a slightly less serene expression that the woman brings her tiny brood into the inn; while the children stare with round eyes at everything, the woman's gaze is less impressed than it is wary, as though perhaps she expects some proprietor or manager to order her and the littles to leave. Her gaze rests on their companion every so often, too; if she notices that palmed something, she gives no sign of it, but then, that would seem to match her behavior in the shelter. Ottar climbs the stairs. Ottar has left. You climb the stairs, arriving on the second floor. Second Floor -- Seeward Inn The second floor of the Seaward Inn contains the various different appartments, all of which are locked. A small terminal access is the only kind of administration that can be seen. To the south is a large window, overlooking the goings on of the market. The doors lining the corridor are clearly marked with a number being their only designation. The stairs lead down into the corridor for the Inn. Obvious exits: <201> leads to Room 201 -- Seeward Inn . own leads to Seaward Inn -- Coronet . Ottar comes out of room 201. Ottar has arrived. The woman and her charges come cautiously up the stairs; the young female murmurs a stern and soft adminition to Roki not to smear his dirty hands upon the wall, making the boy stuff his little fists into his pockets. Once the corridor is achieved, however, the woman's eyes come back to their companion, watching, waiting. Ottar walks down the hallway, and stops in front of the room marked 201. He inserts the keycard into the small slot on the door. He pushes it open slowly and glances into the room, then makes a motion for his companions that this is the room. He stands by the door, waiting for them to enter first. The boy and the Drall-cub glance up to their guardian for a cue; the woman eyes the black-haired man with the keycard, deliberating. She then looks with a lifted, querying brow down to the cub, who bobs its furry head at her sagely for no apparent reason, and only then does she nod for the two littles before her to enter and investigate the room, following behind them with Elette in her arms. You enter the room marked 201. Room 201 -- Seeward Inn A fairly spartan room, with only a bed, a couch, and a holodisplay/video display center along the one wall. There's a small kitchen with a heating instrument, as well as a washing instrument. A small room leads off to an equally small bathing unit and waste disposal system. The window in the room, however, affors a grand view of the grounds around the Seaward Inn, and all the goings on of people below; trading, buying, selling, etc. The door is easily locked, and affords access back into the corridor. Obvious exits: ut leads to Second Floor -- Seeward Inn . Ottar comes in from the corridor. Ottar has arrived. "Look, Tog, look!" pipes Roki, tugging his furry friend to the window and pointing excitedly at the view before. Just as interested in everything else in the room, the Drall-cub peers at this and sniffs at that before joining the little boy at gaping at the activity visible out the window. Lingering nearer to the door, still holding the girl, the woman surveys the place quietly. Ottar closes the door softly behind him, making sure that it isn't locked. He looks around the room, then looks towards the four beings in the room with him. He speaks quietly to the woman, "The bathing unit and etc. are over there." He motions to the small room, off to the side. He shrugs slightly as he looks at the kitchen, "I can go out and get some food to cook, or there are restaurants around here we could go to. As for the clothes, I could go out and buy something for each of you and bring them back, then you could go out later and pick out what you actually want. Whatever." He still stands by the door, uncertain as to what to do. "For the nonce," replies the woman calmly, "the littles shall bathe." Catching this, Roki and Tog snap their gazes over, and Roki groans a protest, but the woman continues, "For the opportunity to allow them to do so, I thank you." She bows her head a single time, before carrying little Elette into the bathing niche. The door is left ajar, and the woman within can be seen studying the bathing unit before settling down to undress the tiny girl and start cleaning her up. In the meantime, curious, Roki wanders back over to the provider of all this unexpected bounty. Red brows crinkled over his green eyes, the lad pipes, "So how come you wanna give us food and clothes and stuff?" Ottar watches the woman for a moment then watches as the little Roki approaches and asks him a question. He looks towards the floor and stares at it reliving some old memories. He smiles and then turns back to the little boy, "Because once, someone did the same for me and I just wanted to return the favor. And you all looked like you could use a break in this crummy world." He starts off softly but then gets louder as he talks more. Tog waddles over on his befurred feet to peer up at their benefactor, along with Roki; the human boy squints his right eye, and asks cagily, "You said somethin' about the future. This mean you wanna keep doin' us favors, or just do us a real big one?" "Rokisha," comes the gently reproving voice of his guardian over the soft noises of the bathing unit, "it is impolite to seek further largesse when one has nothing to offer in return, and you do not." The boy's face falls a bit at the scolding, but he subsides, scruffing a toe along the carpet, though he is quickly distracted by the mere notion of a carpet clean enough that its color can be easily determined. He pokes Tog and points this out to the cub in another whisper, before both boy and Drall peer up again at their benefactor. Ottar smiles to the boy and the Drall, looking at their faces for awhile. He glances towards the small bathing unit with the reproval and smiles wider as he looks back to the boys. He shakes his head slightly then talks so he thinks only the boy and the Drall will hear. "Yes, I plan to do as much as I can for all of you. Whatever that may be." He continues smiling then heads over to the kitchen unit and grabs himself a disposable cup from one side and fills it up, taking a drink from it. He looks at the two and then asks if they want some. Tog bobs its - his? it's difficult to tell, with the young Drall being mostly round and rolypoly despite the mattered fur - head, and Roki squints, then says candidly, "Yeah. Thanks." The lad stares hard at the water as it's poured out, as if marvelling at the notion of running water and trying hard to pretend that he is not. Ottar nods and then grabs two more disposable cups and fills them both with water, walking over and handing a cup to first Tog then to Roki. He takes another drink from his own glass then turns and looks out the window at the people below. The bathing unit shuts off abruptly, and the woman appears at the door, gently shooing out the tiny waif Elette. The child is no less pale, but now her white skin shows no trace of dirt, and her soft cloud of hair is damp and much more clean-looking. With a dark hand, the woman beckons to the little Drall. "Togsha, come, it is thy turn." Tog chirrs a low affirmative, and, still sipping greedily at his cup of water, waddles over to join the woman, while the tiny Elette stands there at the door of the bathing niche. As the woman and the cub vanish once more, the girl continues to just stand there, and she pops her thumb into her mouth. Roki gulps down his water without ceremony, and without much of a pause to breathe, either. The lad watches the shift off, then parks next to their benefactor, peering up at him consideringly. "So who are yah, anyway?" he pipes. Ottar looks over at the girl in the doorway and smiles to her, nodding to himself as he looks her over. He turns to face the boy after the question is asked then crouches down so he is eye-level with the boy. He continues smiling and answers, "Ottar. And who might you be, young man?" "My name's Roki," the redheaded boy answers, turning the cup around in his grubby fingers, and trying to pretend he's not eying it acquisitively. The little girl remains utterly quiet, just standing there, still sucking her thumb, and Roki adds, "That's Elette. She doesn't talk." Ottar nods and looks over to the girl then back to Roki, "That's a shame." He looks back at the girl, and then asks her, "Would you like a drink of water Elette?" The girl, thumb still in her mouth, stares long and liquidly up at that offer, and gravely bobs her head. Evidently, there is nothing wrong with her hearing. Ottar smiles and then stands up and turns, grabbing the last disposable cup he fills it full of water. Slowly he walks over to Elette and hands the cup to her. Roki wanders over, watching all this, and when Elette turns her great dark eyes to him in evident query, the boy leans over and pats her on her head, flicking her a sheepish little grin. The thumb comes out of her mouth, then, and Elette wraps her tiny hands around the cup. She's barely big enough to hold it by herself, it would seem. Roki puts in wisely, "We think she's like three or four or somethin'." From within the bathing niche, Tog makes a little squealing noise, followed by, "Hurts, Linn!" in piping, broken Basic. The Drall-cub is answered by the woman murmuring quietly, "If you would stand still while I try to comb you, Togsha, the tangles would not pull your fur as greatly. There now... that is the best we can do for you till we find the proper place for such things." And with that, Tog, looking sheepish, waddles back out into the room, and the woman appears behind him. Ottar nods to Roki's comment and says in a lowered voice meant so that only he can hear, "Too young to be alone on the streets." Then he looks up at Tog, and then over to the woman. "Would you like something to drink?" Roki eyes 'Linn' -- the woman -- meaningfully, clearly intending to relay for Ottar's benefit that little Elette is not in fact alone. Linn, her black eyebrows rising slightly at the lad's look and the whisper he'd received, informs the boy, "You are big enough to bathe yourself, Rokisha; it is now your turn. Come, now." She waves the boy into the little room. He goes, but grudgingly, screwing up his little mouth by way of protest. As he does, Linn kneels before Elette to help her with the cup, while looking up at their host. "If the littles have drunk their fill, I will take water." "More," requests Tog, holding up the cup in its little paws. Ottar nods and makes his way over to Tog, taking the cup and then stepping over, refills Tog's cup. He sets it down then looks for another disposable cup, frowning when he sees there aren't any left, he dumps out the water in his cup and then quickly rinses it out. He fills up the now empty cup and then takes Tog's cup in his free hand, walking back over to Tog first and handing him his cup then he hands Linn the other cup and steps back. He gestures to the bed and the couch, "There is some room to sit, if any of you want to." but he himself remains standing. The woman inclines her head, turning to lift Elette onto the couch. After a moment, Tog scrambles up beside her, and the two sit there with their cups; Tog drapes a furry arm companionably about the tiny girl, and at last, Linn turns back to accept the offered water. "Again," she says soberly, "I thank you." Ottar nods to the woman, smiling slightly he says, "It is no problem whatsoever. And I am glad that I can help you out." She drinks rather daintily from the cup, cradling it in her palms, and her blue eyes remain reserved, but perhaps slightly milder of expression, now. Linn inclines her head, serenely, offset by her quirked left eyebrow. Taking her time with the water -- as if, as the children had done with the broth before, she intends to make every drop last -- she says, "You jest not, when you speak of clothing the littles?" Ottar shakes his head and then looks over to Tog and Elette, "I will buy them and you clothes, for it looks like you and they could use some that are capable of keeping a body warm. I am willing to go out and find some clothing and then bring it back, so that the beings out there" he motions to the window, "won't be able to refuse you in a shop. Then we can all go out and you and they can pick out clothes that are better suited to your needs, which you know far better than I." The other eyebrow lifts, as Tog and Elette watch this conversation avidly, and as Roki, his face cleaner and his hair damp, emerges in just as clear curiosity from the bathing niche. But Linn, still cradling the cup in her palms, says, "First, O generous one -- what would you know of the littles' needs?" Ottar shrugs, "Nothing much at all, that is why I am suggesting that you pick out clothes that will be best suited for their needs." He adds as an afterthought, "And my name is Ottar, so you don't need to be calling me O generous one, or anything of the like anymore." Roki abruptly snickers. "Linn just talks like that, it means she don't think you're dangerous or nothin', or else she'd be a lot meaner," he puts in. "They talk like that where she come from." The woman's mouth quirks up on one end, ever so slightly. "We speak with proper grammar as well, Rokisha," she says blandly to him, making him screw up his nose at her. To Ottar, she then lifts her gaze once more and says formally, "I am named Aislinn." It comes out of her 'is-lean', pronounced with an odd blend between clear enunciation and a lilt that makes the syllables flow in her voice. "As to the needs of the littles -- speaking solely of garments, Roki and Elette require shoes and coats, to begin. Tog requires a proper grooming of his fur; I know not how such things are best done, and there are no other Drall in the shelters we frequent." Tog bobs his furry head vigorously at this. [Lost a chunk of log here. Ottar volunteers to go out and buy clothing and shoes for Aislinn and her charges...] Ottar comes in from the corridor. Ottar has arrived. You hear the door unlock and then the door swings slowly open and Ottar walks in, slowly closing the door behind him. He is carrying some clothes (they all look like nice coats) slung over one arm and carrying a bag full of things in his hand. The room is quiet, darkened save for the faint light coming in through the still-uncertained window. Their breathing coming all slow, each with their own tempo, Roki, Tog, and Elette have curled up on the couch in a mingled little heap, sound in slumber. Aislinn lingers by the window, her dark arms crossed; at the sound of the door's opening, however, she looks over, and straightens. Ottar starts to talk before he looks around, speaking in a fairly loud voice, "I found everything" with that he abruptly stops speaking as he looks at the little people on the couch. He quickly mumbles something and frowns, hoping he didn't wake any of them. "They rest soundly," pronounces the young woman gravely. Her dark blue eyes sweep over the figure of the man before her -- and over the items he has brought. A strange expression flickers across her face, as though she hadn't quite expected actual evidence of his claim to aid her and her charges. Ottar looks over at the young woman and nods slightly, he glances back to the couch and speaks in a lowered voice, "That's good. I think I found coats for everyone who needs one and also some shoes that should fit, but if not I was assured I could take them back and get ones that would." He turns his attention back to the young woman by the window. She moves, with noiseless assurance, towards the brought items, brushing dusky fingers over them -- perhaps as if to assure herself of their reality. Her brow crinkles for a moment in the dimly lit room, then she straightens again, glancing at the children, clearly deliberating. Ottar watches her and then also looks towards the children, continuing to speak softly, "They look like they are enjoying their sleep." He shrugs and then looks back to Aislinn. "It is rare," murmurs the young woman, "that they do so." The thought appears to, if not trouble her, then perhaps sadden; she does not sound surprised. Ottar looks at you for a moment. Ottar nods slightly and then takes a few steps from the door, where he was standing and sets the bag and coats on the floor. He picks up one of the coats from the other ones and then holds it up for Aislinn. The coat is a beige color, relatively close to the color of Aislinn's vest. Her eyes rest upon the offered garment, then lift up to the face of its offerer. "You did not need to purchase garb for me as well as the littles," she says soberly, head quirked slightly sideways, her gaze searching. Ottar shrugs slightly, offering no reply, he walks over to her and holds out the coat. "There are also some black shoes in the bag for you... I didn't know what colors you like so I just guessed and tried to match them with what you were wearing, since those sandals don't look to be the all-weather type." Aislinn accepts the garment consideringly, her mouth curving up in an almost-smile. "They are not," she murmurs, almost wry. "They are, however, what I have." Ottar nods again smiling slightly, "Well, now you also have those shoes in the bag." He hesitates for a second then adds, "That is if you want them." Not yet inspecting the coat she holds, Aislinn frowns slightly, her brows drawing together over the slender bridge of her nose. Finally, she observes, simply, with neither wheedling nor sorrow in her tone, "These things shall be stolen, if we return to the shelter with them. We can defend what we wear upon our backs, and what we carry on our persons, but more than that -- it is difficult. I must ask another thing of you, if these littles are to go warmly clad for the cold season -- and that is, where I can take them to be safe." Ottar nods slightly, and then frowns for a moment, "Indeed... well... I suppose that I can pay for your lodgings and theirs for awhile... unless we could find a small house that you and they like." He sighs softly and then shrugs. "I get more than enough money to buy you a house from my wages." Dark eyebrows go up. Then, still with that simple but searching tone, Aislinn says, "I must know why you would do such a thing." Ottar turns his head to look at the floor, and stares at a spot there. After a moment he shrugs again, in a somewhat faraway tone replies, "I don't have much use for the money I have, since I am hardly on one planet for very long. I think that helping you out would be a better use of it." "And who are you, that you have such money to spend, thus?" Aislinn gestures with a dark hand to the sleeping younglings, then at herself. Still her tone remains unburdened with any implications; her words are solemn, reserved. But her eyes hold hints of curiosity, and not a little wonderment. Ottar shrugs slightly looking back up at her face, "Someone who got a good job and gets paid too much for what he does." Her gaze measuring, taking in those slight shrugs and diversions of Ottar's own eyes, Aislinn says after a moment, "The wisdom of the streets advises that I should leave sleeping sand panthers to lie." This time there _is_ a subtle undercurrent to her words, a question -- perhaps an invitation to elaborate. Ottar nods slightly, he shrugs and looks at the coat that Aislinn is holding. "Are you going to try that on and see if it fits?" At this, the young woman issues a very short, very soft ripple of laughter. In a small and smooth motion, she turns the coat about in her hands, finding fasteners, sliding her arms into the sleeves. Her brow crinkles momentarily in bemusement, as though the weight of such a garment is unfamiliar upon her shoulders. Ottar smiles as Aislinn laughs and watches here put the coat on. He looks at the all weather coat and frowns slightly thinking it a bit too large, "How does it fit?" She flexes her shoulders slightly beneath the garment, murmuring, "It is heavier than to what I am accustomed." Ottar nods slightly, "We can aways return it if you don't want it." Releasing another soft ripple of laughter, Aislinn murmurs, plucking at the cloth of the garment with her fingers experimentally, "I have not yet stated such a thing -- to be warm is a great boon." She looks up then, the brief amusement fading from her expression. "You have offered me and these small ones much, for one who has but met us a scant handful of hours hence. You ask nothing in return?" Ottar nods slightly and shrugs slightly turning from Aislinn to look back towards the couch and its occupants. "Just that you take good care of them, and of yourself." "I have done that... do that," she replies, gravely. Then she inclines her head, straightening a little, and giving a slight half-bow. "Very well; I accept your bounty, on behalf of the younglings; know you, however, that if you can keep them safe and fed, I shall put forth my effort to see that you are properly repaid." Ottar nods slightly still looking at the couch, "Whatever you feel is necessary, I don't need to be repaid. We can deal with that when the time comes though. For now, you should try on the shoes I bought for you. I am wondering if I guessed the right size or not." Shaking her darkly curled head slightly, again looking vaguely bemused, Aislinn slips out of the coat and casts a blue gaze to the rest of the items purchased. Dark dusky fingers slip, curiously, into the box that contains the footwear. Ottar watches Aislinn takes off the coat and then watches her looking for the shoes. The bag contains a pair of small white running shoes, that appear to be made of one material making them virtually waterproof. Also a pair of medium sized, brown hiking boots, that appear to be made similarly as the white shoes. At the bottom of the bag are black shoes that look lightweight, also sealed in a similar fashion, these bottom pair have a single line of a orangish/gold trim around them. Her hands brushing over each of the pairs of shoes lightly, Aislinn straightens with the black shoes in her grasp, pausing there for a moment as her fingertips trail over their surface. Something in her face, a slight widening of her eyes, perhaps, or an intake of breath, testifies that her benefactor -- or at least the shoes he's brought her -- have startled her. But she covers it well, and after a moment, she settles down gracefully upon the bed, lifting a foot to remove the sandal there. One black shoe and one black sandal with a brown foot between them remain in place for a moment, before the woman slowly slips the shoe onto where the sandal had just been. Ottar watches Aislinn take the shoes out and then sees her brief reaction and frowns slightly. He follows her with his eyes as she sits down and tries on the shoe. He stands there patiently, watching her, waiting for her verdict on the shoes. The second shoe follows the first, onto that other slender brown foot. Aislinn at last rises, apparently bemused, but perhaps not displeased, as she says, "I do not believe I would dance in them. But they would protect my feet." Ottar continues to watch her and nods, "Well you can always get some dancing shoes that are to your liking if you want. How about the other shoes... do you think they will do for them?" He nods towards the three beings on the couch. "Tog," says Aislinn wisely, "needs no shoes, but Roki and Elette shall test these others, when they wake." She pauses for a moment, glancing at the children as they sleep; Roki has an arm protectively curled around the tiny girl-child, and Tog is snuggled into the redheaded boy's other side. Aislinn releases a soft breath, then adds, glancing back at her benefactor, "You have already given me more bounty than I could have envisioned in a cycle of the moons. This will do, for now." Ottar nods slightly and follows Aislinn's gaze over to the couch, he smiles slightly as he looks at all three of their faces. He turns and looks at Aislinn, "You could probably use some sleep also, when you want to, feel free to make use of the bed." With another of those searching looks, the young woman inquires, "You will sleep where?" Ottar shrugs slightly and glances quickly around the room, shrugging. "The floor. I have slept on many more uncomfortable surfaces before." Blue eyes shift from man to bed and back again. Finally, in a straightforward sort of tone that might be used for declaring the Gold Beaches gold, Aislinn replies, "On this night, I shall not argue. But if we remain here for more than one night running, tomorrow night, the bed shall be yours." With that, as if the issue has just settled itself, she settles on the bed again long enough to divest herself of the black shoes. Ottar shrugs slightly and mumbles something before turning to look at the uncurtained window. He frowns slightly and walks softly over to the window, glancing down at the street below. Momentarily he moves the curtain to cover the window. With a bare whisper of sound, the young woman curls up, almost catlike, upon the bed, curving one arm in under her cheek. "Thank you," she murmurs once, and is silent; it is perhaps a measure of trust that her breathing immediately begins to soften and slow. Ottar waits for a brief moment nodding in the darkness towards the bed. He softly moves over towards the door, and lays down on the floor. He stays awake for a little bit, glancing towards the bed and then at the couch. Slowly he closes his eyes and then he too falls asleep. [End log.]