Fresh Baked Bread (M.A.P.)

["Unfettered"]

OOC: Would appreciate this if this was before the Train quest. If that s cool with you, of course, I mean. Also, sorry for short posts.

Saturday Afternoon

Nigh impossible to mistake the rich smell of freshly baked breads.

Rye-wheat. Toast bread. Whole-grain. Wheat-rye. White bread. Multi-grain. Rye. Sunflower seed. Pumpkin seed. Onion bread. Tell me that wouldn't smell good. As it was, "Unfettered" was sitting on a park bench, passing out pieces, speaking a little bit of English and German. Basically to both give people on their walk through the park something warm to have melt in their mouth, but more importantly to advertise the restaurant. Shameless? I suppose. But thats business.

"..Warm bread! Fresh bread! Erhalten Sie es während seines heißes!"

[M.A.P.]

OOC: Sure, before the train. Just keep it easy. No worries, Mein Fuhrer.
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M.A.P. having seen no reason to stay in the building- she never stayed where the dead one remained- had returned to the streets. It was..harder without being able to see color. She was slowly learning to depend on her other senses to determine if something was edible or safe. Honcho helped with that- but he...he seemed annoyed with her for leaving, though he stuck by her more closely than before. It was their life to keep moving. People died often, usually those she spent time around, became attached to..but that was- simply how it was. Her dark eyes shimmered brightly, soon enough the name Hiroko Katashi would become a memory she would have to struggle to keep. She would only be able to remember him, though the training sessions. That was all.

As M.A.P. dug through garbage cans, black hair already becoming matted and was already more than in need of a wash- her over sized clothing hung on her like a deflated circus tent. She'd lost a deal of weight, and for her already thin frame- you could see her wrist bones, hip bones and rib cage- the bones well defined- even her face was thin. She pulled out a half eaten apple, remainder of a hot dog bun, and what looked like cotton candy...she didn't know, she looked it all over. Giving her corgi the bread and taking a bite out of the apple. She gagged as the apple oozed into her mouth and spat it out, throwing it in the garbage, and spitting to the side. She discarded the cotton candy- that was week two without anything in her stomach. She felt sick.

The corgi, Honcho had been rolling in mud. Easy to tell this puppy was dirty- his collar was almost worn away, it being held together with a strip of cloth. He lifted his nose to the air after inhaling the hot dog bun- something fresh and warm. He strayed away from his human, not too far- and found another. Passing out bread, warm and, his little nose went up into the air, and far fresher than the bun he'd just devoured. Honcho came close but not close enough to be grabbed, sitting up- his dirty little white paws in the air and whined.

["Unfettered"]

Weak-Spot Found

Just about out of bread.

'Been sitting out here for hours, now. About a loaf left? Pumpkin seed.. aye. Well, he was rather partial to it, and he had to ashamedly admit to himself that he did... sort of hold this one back for last. For himself, actually. Keeping it down, towards the bottom, so that it would still be warm, when all the others were gone. A little grin tickling around his lips, as he pulled it out, the aroma accentuating all about. Warm. Soft. This was pumpkin seed bread. With vigor, he tore the foot long thing in half, mouth opening to take a small bite to savor it---

...

What the..?

Whining noises. His eyes swiveled down. ..Oye. Oye.

..It was a dog.

From first site? It was dirty, unkempt, homeless...---No. Wait. The dog 'had' a collar, but.. the dirt around it was so thick, "Unfettered" could barely recognize it. That didn't mean that it had an owner though. Why? Well.. for starters..

The dog was keeping its distance. This was possibly part of its routine for survival. Begging from whoever it came across.. and, in spite of his own arm length? Pup though it may be.. it was very intelligent. But in a word? Pitiful.

"Welpe..., was zu Ihnen geschehen ist?"

Side of his mouth curled into disdain. Couldn't keep his eye off the poor thing. Pitiful? Oh yes... deserving of whatever pity it was. But nonetheless, that did not mean the dog might not attack him. Did not mean that the dog might suddenly whisk away his bread. ...But...---Screw it.

*RIP*

*RIP*

*RIP*

*RIP*

*RIP*...

Slowly, just tearing apart the half-loaf. Eye never wavering from the dog, he kept tearing up the pieces, until the whole half-loaf's scent had filled the air, cupped in his right hand, against his stomach. But this next part would determine exactly how 'stupid' "Unfettered" had become, in the face of a ragged pup. And gingerly, he propped up a piece into his left palm, and held it down, leaning towards the dog, his only eye in a gentle slit, as his entire face relaxed. Cooing.

"Kommen Sie auf. Essen Sie. Ich schwöre zur Herr sich selbst, dass ich Ihnen nicht schaden werde, als Sie mir nicht schaden werden..." Urging it gently. Hungry? Starved? No. Was it right for a man who had food to withhold food unto himself to become a food monger? He didn't need to answer a question he already knew the answer to.

"Ich werde Ihnen nicht schaden. Kommen Sie."

[M.A.P.]

Honcho's ears went forward- that wasn't how the trick worked, the human...who smelled like flour, yeast and Autumn...didn't understand the game. You're supposed to throw it! But Honcho eaisly landed back on all four little paws and walked right over. He gave a small whine, hesitating- he may have been hungry, this human smelled trust worthy..but his human was off digging through garbage cans for them both.

Sure enough she was, digging through the can with a soft patient sigh- she'd find Honcho something more substantial than...leftover french fries and half a hotdog bun. She wouldn't beg. Don't beg. Don't plead. Don't speak. Shaking her head, she pulled nothing out of the can. Pausing she looked around- where had he gone? Putting her fingers to her lips, she gave a whistle, loud and clear.

Though mud covered and small, he was quick..but he was afraid of being snatched...nah this human looked harmless enough. Autumn was a good season after all...and how could anyone who smelled like food be that bad? Carefully- slowly, the puppy stretched out his neck sniffed at the human- and licked to get the bread. He gave a small whine, but that would disappear with the piece of bread, but instead of running he stayed and began to bark. Not threatening or teeth bearing but practically a thank you, butt wagging included. His ears swiveled towards the sound of the whistle but he was more interested in the food.

["Unfettered"]

OOC: Sorry... >_< Late and short.

New Little Friend

A lick and a snatch.

Perfectly enough to make anyone happy. The scruffy little guy was adorable. But he noted with some interest that it was definetely more intelligent than the other dogs that ran around here. But he'd already noticed this. Smiling a bit, as he looked at the dirty pup, he noted with a bit of happiness that the scruffy thing wagging its tail.

Admittedly, he did jump a bit, when 'it' (rather annoyed he didn't know the gender...) barked at him, but the tail kept wagging. Asking for more food, or something?

Well then. Should probably comply.

He grinned.

Stooping over, he put the other half of the bread deep into his brown paper bag to conserve some of its warmth and softness. Scooping the pieces of bread, he held them towards the dog. But, from the way 'it' was looking around, he half-expected it to just leave him there.

..But that was normal.

Today was just going to be a normal day, after all...

...

[M.A.P.]

Honcho's ears went forward, taking a mouthful of the food, swallowing with a bravado only know by little hungry dogs. He nuzzled the now empty palm of Autumn and pressed forward to be loved on. Petted, pampered, shown the affection his human had...been too distressed to show in the time since the giant man had passed and they had left that lovely kitchen.

But M.A.P. having been looking- found Honcho. Taking food from some young man- and worse so now pressing forward to get him filthy. Scooping up the puppy- having come close enough over a short amount of time- you could have hit that young man with a roundhouse before he would have noticed where he was.

Honcho grunted and squirmed before resting his head on his owner's shoulder. Huffed- he was being a good boy! Blue- violets studied the young man who had been feeding Honcho. Gray skin, black and white clothing- gray hair- a shade darker than his skin. She spoke hoarsely, her dark eyes seeming not to focus completely, "I apologize. Honcho knows better than to beg from strangers."

["Unfettered"]

New... 'Not-So' Little Friend...?

Smiling. That little smile that seems to say a sweet little something. Not a 'sweet little nothing'. Always a something. Had to be. Or else it was not real. Bent over, all attention on the dog. Hand felt against the wet nose, and was almost ready to pet him, when suddenly, up in the air, and whisked away from his grasp, in a swift, almost panicked manner, if he'd be so bold. Eye went up...

"I apologize. Honcho knows better than to beg from strangers."

Dirty. Ragged. "Unfettered" stood up so fast, you could've sworn he'd seen the Queen of England, for what the reaction on his face was. But his expressions softened in an instant, as he looked at... 'Honcho'. Resting so softly on 'his' (assuming assumptions are correct on the name basis train of thought) owner.

The owner.

What curious eyes. Homeless? Obviously... there was a reek of garbage and other miscellaneous things, but it did not bother "Unfettered" overmuch. Brought back assorted memories, in truth. Clothing, the way she was... aye. But still with enough pride to know what her morales and honor were in her heart. Just pondering these little things, as he mused to himself.

Shaking his head, almost frowning, "Aber das ist nicht der Fall." Quickly, though, turning into a grin. "...But it was I who was offering, Frau."

[M.A.P.]

She looked him over, hollow face giving no thoughts out, though for a bare second, her eyes shimmered a pure obsidian, then back to the blue violet- they were filled now with concern. Nothing in life was free, even if someone was- Honcho whined, nuzzled her cheek. She inclined her head slightly, a submissive gesture- one which gave a hint of deep thanks, her voice was gentle, "For feeding Honcho, Sir, danke."

It was not his job to feed her dog- kindness or not. Inside her stomach twisted- be it from the smell of food or from the thought she wasn't capable of feeding Honcho or herself on her own. Shame- though the feeling remained inside and unfamiliar- outside her face remained expressionless.

Do not accept the free. Contacts made under such pretenses are false. All parties are responsible for their work- all parties are responsible for their actions, even in declarations of giving freely of themselves. Self reliance under orders is all which is acceptable.

"How may I pay for back for your kindness?"

["Unfettered"]

Possibly...

"For feeding Honcho, Sir, danke."

There was nothing to say. Just a gentle nod. But his eye caught onto hers. And was somewhat taken aback by it. Such coldness... such things as sadness. Such things that were common in today's world.

"How may I pay for back for your kindness?"

..Were it not for her eyes, he would have simply said 'By accepting it'. But while he was no master at reading vibes, he could definetely see. One eye was all he needed, as he stood up quietly, and made his way towards her, but keeping about three feet in distance, before holding out the brown bag where the last half of the pumpkin seed bread was. Slightly warm, but it would grow colder.

"...Zat depends. What can do you have? ...What can you do?"

And then pressing the brown bag towards her, all seriousness in his eyes...

"..And vat do you vant...?"

[M.A.P.]

Her expression was calm, unaffected- watching him. Her eyes stayed on him- watching for any betraying gesture. She did not trust easy, and lately her mind had been...a bit fuzzy lately. Black shifted to violet and her lips parted, "Behalten Sie es."

Honcho whined, she held him tightly, Honcho sighed softly, adjusted his paws and stayed still. His human was trembling slightly- descent food being so close and yet- to M.A.P. so far and unworthy of such things. Kindness comes with ulterior motives. Nothing is free. Do not accept those things labeled as free. Honcho's nose twitched, he watched a butterfly- best to wait for her to put him on the ground- though he was wondering if she would be able to hold him up still. He could still smell the blood on those old bandages.

"Honcho and I cannot take what we do not work for," she told the man, her tone soft, serious, voice as mechanical as her expression, though it changed to give some warmth- though not over friendly or even what would be considered kind, "My thanks is with you for feeding Honcho."

She was tired, more tired than she had thought, she wasn't sure- but she was shaking, maybe that last memory had the done more damage than she had thought- darkness be it all consuming. She continued to watch him- not staring him down, but waiting for him to move, to walk away, to see the monster inside and know that everyone she had lived with...been around had died- he didn't want or need that...or her in her colorblind glory.

["Unfettered"]

"Behalten Sie es."

...At which time, he stood up, his face expressing a bit of surprise. Brows raising, but not to the point of absolute disbelief and incredulity. Nay. Instead, a smile came on his face. A little bit of German... eh? Or was she fluent with the whole beautiful language?

"Honcho and I cannot take what we do not work for."

He did not grin, did not smile. But growing respect did arise. That type of personal moral code... was really hard to find, these days. The brown bag retreated. Finally and wholly cold was the pumpkin seed bread. Mind playing with an idea...

"My thanks is with you for feeding Honcho."

..Click, click, click, went the grinding of his head. Squinting for a moment at her, but finally deciding for himself.. yes. Yes. That would be wonderful. Perfect, even.

"Vell zen..." as if to completely ignore the last statement about the gratitude for feeding 'Honcho'... He let his only eye widen at her, before closing nearly half-way.

"What would you take, vat do yo need, if you could vork for it?"

"..Do you have talents... skills?..."

Growing excitement.. as he looked on at her with even further approvement, daring to take a step aside. Daring... her.

"..Vould you dare to trust a complete stranger, even?"

[M.A.P.]

Her expression remained as it had, calm, collected, though still heavily guarded. If need be, she only had to say a word and the cute little ball of fluff, known as Honcho, would become a raging ball of canine fury. Cute but dangerous. M.A.P. would have to openly admit- she had never intended for Honcho to be so two sided but he was. Maybe it was because pets became like their owners...she didn't know.

To his questions. Her tone remained even. He asked simply- and then complexly. What did she need, what would she do with it, could she work, with what skills? Could she trust even a stranger.

She started at the beginning, "Nur, was erforderlich ist zu leben."

Violet eyes watching him carefully, Honcho felt so heavy- he'd never weighed so much before. She heard him whine as she readjusted her grip slowly- a practiced bit of slow non-threatening movement. As she was very careful, as friendly as she could be...as allowed, she gave thought of her skills.

"Cooking ranging from gourmet to international, cleaning, childcare...nannying, pet training, maintenance including plumbing, home repair, gardening, and drywalling, physical therapy, mesus, painting, drawing, pottery, hunting, hand to hand combat."

She had a puzzled look, lasted a bare instant, she couldn't honestly remember anything else- but she had many talents..skills. She could sing, play piano, viola, and even several other instruments- she also had the ability to not see color- but hey, maybe he didn't need to know that? She could identify ingredients and substances by smell and taste- and, of course, by reading the damn label.

Violet's deepened as she thought on her answer of trusting a stranger. Answered as fairly and truthfully as she could, "In all honesty, Sir, I have been trusting strangers for a long time. Without them, I believe Honcho and I would not exist."

["Unfettered"]

OOC: Apologies for the short post. ._.;

Strike: The Chords of Potential

"Nur, was erforderlich ist zu leben."

Simple, to the point. A right hand went over his head to crease down the hair, almost as if to subconsciously pondering over something.---

"Cooking ranging from gourmet to international, cleaning, childcare...nannying, pet training, maintenance including plumbing, home repair, gardening, and drywalling, physical therapy, mesus, painting, drawing, pottery, hunting, hand to hand combat."

...The mouth dropped a little bit. Just a little. And by little, we refer to, of course, a good two, maybe five inches. As himself, however, he remained generally stoic, so it could be just as well that he was mocking her. But.. his left hand quietly pocketed itself, as he continued to eye her, the dog, and her again.

"In all honesty, Sir, I have been trusting strangers for a long time. Without them, I believe Honcho and I would not exist."

That did it.

Shaking his head back to full composure, he nodded, the hair falling away from his face. Revealing a swastika on his eye-patch...

"Vell zen..."

A strange look...

Is that smile? A smirk? Some sort of condescending look? Possibly, some sympathy... or empathy, a feel of knowing. Hundreds of possibilities. Hundreds of ways.

"...If you are villing, follow me. I will let you earn your keep in zis vorld. And when you trust me as a stranger, ask my name, frau..."

The smiles faded, and he looked on her, much more seriously. Quietly taking a step back, as his left hand came back out, extending with it a key. Not a car key. Not the key to the building itself. Just a key to a room.

...Her room.

[M.A.P.]

The swastika meant very little and more or less nothing. Her mind pulled information on people- people who, in the past, had chosen to do things not to differently than Talbot had. And to the modernists who used the symbol for radical excuses and to gain attention to themselves- usually leading to a deeper insight of having been abandoned by a parent or the hate of a parent or lifestyle.

Honcho whined softly, his little butt wagging- he knew that tone, those sounds that people made. Acceptance! His human had no choice in letting him go as he dug his little paws into her wounded stomach and lept over her shoulder. Landing on the ground- what a height that had been! He turned around and barked at her. This was his way of saying 'a place to live- he smells like good people.' Then sitting, he whined softly, little ears wiggling, big brown eyes watching them both- nose twitching in excitement.

M.A.P. winced, could feel that usual warm feeling on her stomach- bleeding through the bandages. Not quite having reached the shirt, but formalities. Her expression was calm, though not tired or pained, she didn't reach for the key- not yet.

Blue-violets shimmered softly and she smiled- it was small took little effort, however it was obviously unpracticed and unfamiliar to her. She stepped to him, though her expression was unpracticed- it was most certainly friendly. Her hand reached out, long manicured nails expertly plucking the key away...if he so allowed. She would step back, with or without the key, give a slightly formal bow, a fist pressing against her chest, "My name is M.A.P.- it would be a great honor to know the name of such a kind heart."

["Unfettered"]

...Silently Amused.

A strange feeling resounding in his body, as he watched the dog jump off. That sort of strange chill. Of course, never really having had a dog before around in the constant premises, he couldn't tell the body language that the girl's dog was exacting on him. But just that feeling of that little pup giving off all the vibes of being 'adorable' made "Unfettered" careful so as to avert his eye, and focus instead on the violet orbs, straight in front of him. Lest, of course, he accidentally betray his rather carefully guarded emotions.

Ironically, in turn, he looked at an equally pleased girl. Damn. A really sincere smirk came out in response. But it was nigh impossible not to. Unrefined as it was, the smile was pure as it could be, with simple intent.

..And right there, the light weight was plucked from his hands, with him barely even noticing. But reaction made him immediately pocket the hand again. Quietly nodding, in the exchange of this deal.

"My name is M.A.P.- it would be a great honor to know the name of such a kind heart."

There came a crackling from his neck, as he bent it a bit to the side. Not to be impolite, but, the question itself took a bit to register in his head. ..Not so much that he misheard, but... a hand went to his chin. Musing, actually, over what to tell her. There was his name. And then there was his name. And then of course, there was his name.

Quietly stepping to her, hands pocketed, his face somewhat downcast... he wrinkled his nose a little. Itch. Conceding finally, he chuckled slightly... oh, hell. Right?

A twinkle in his eye...

"...You may call me... "Unfettered"... M.A.P. A pleasure to meet you... and Honcho. Truly, ja?" Tongue lightly flicking over his molars, as a bit of a habit of having his eye flick at her, towards the dog, and about her. Taking note of her appearance, taking consideration of the fact that some may be in fact, allergic to dogs... and how he'd have to overcome that, without breaking a promise.

Trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible... he strode on, to her right, unpocketing his right hand on her shoulder in a gentle manner. Now, smiling without restraint, as he whispered quietly in her ear...

"..And velcome to Deutsche Küche Restaurant."

Giving a slight squeeze, and letting his smile tone down a bit.. he moved on past her, and would walk on a few feet, maybe bend down to let out his hand to Honcho, if he came nearby, but was ultimately starting on his trek back to his restaurant. His home. His life.

..Should she still be waiting, after he took ten paces, he would look back at her, a look on his face, as if to indicate... 'Well... aren't you coming?'