mogget_cat | OOM: Open-Mic 2

Yrael and Teja step through the door and out into a deserted alleyway in New Orleans. It's evening, here, around eight o'clock with the sun just having fully set. The people in the street before them haven't noticed them yet.

"All right... to find a clothing shop."

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Teja nods. "One that sells tea shirts," he says, "with the right sort of meaningful writing on."

He still doesn't understand what the shirts have to do with tea, but not everything has to make sense. Names, especially, are sometimes rather cryptic.

Indeed they are.

"Yes," Yrael nods, stepping out into the street.

As he does so, his posture changes. His shoulders slump a bit, and he hooks a thumb into his pocket. The first person who passes is hailed. "'Scuse me, man. D'you know where I can find a place to get a couplea shirts? Airport lost my luggage."

People watching in New Orleans, and thus overhearing their conversations, is useful. :D

The guy gives some directions, pointing down to their left, and nods. Yrael thanks him, and he continues on his way.

"He says there's a good place down on Decatur, not too far from here."

Edited Date: 2008-03-26 07:04 pm (UTC)

"I do not know what a Decatur is," Teja says, "even though it sounds vaguely Latin; I will simply follow you there."

Edited Date: 2008-03-26 08:11 pm (UTC)

"It's a street running parallel to this one. Just a couple of blocks away," he says, heading towards the nearest intersection, St. Ann and Royal.

Duhkayter. Silly Southern pronunciation. :D

Yes, decaetor -- it makes no sense at all. Teja follows, hoping the place itself will be less puzzling.

Not puzzling at all! Just another street, with people and streetcars and shops. After walking a block along St. Ann, they pass Jackson Park, which is just getting into this new "spring" thing, covered in bright green grass and trees with pollen tags.

After passing the park, they turn right. Decatur street is the nearest street to the water, with the train tracks running between.

"It's the Big Easy T-Shirt Company, we're looking for. Specifically, it's sign, because it's on the second floor of the building it's in."

Teja actually spots it soon, despite the fact that his eyes stray to the train tracks again and again -- he doesn't know what those are good for.

"There it is!" he says. "They sell big, easy shirts, then?"

Yrael laughs as they head towards the sign. "No. The city's nickname is the Big Easy, mainly because it's so easy for people to make money here. Especially musicians. It's a city known for its musicians."

As they head in, a train whistle can be heard in the distance.

"Ahh," Teja says, nodding. Some cities had had nicknames in his time, as well.

And then he turns, almost alarmed, at the sound of the train whistle.-

It's still kind of new to Yrael; the novelty of trains hasn't yet worn off.

So, when he hears the whistle, he stops and turns, leaning so he can see the tracks.

"Wait a bit. I want to see," he says, grinning.

The blasts of the train's whistle are getting louder, now accompanied by a growing roar.

"What is that?" Teja asks. Yrael is not taking cover, so it is most likely not some sort of attack.

"It's a train. A vehicle to carry people or goods long distances, running along those tracks. The ones here usually carry coal or livestock," he says, leaning out the door.

The train, a great hulking thing of metal with 100+ cars full of coal behind it roars by them, the doppler effect making its whistle fall in pitch as the engine moves away from them.

Teja observes, fascinated.

"Men mentioned cars and planes to me," he says, "fire arms, and electric. Why did nobody ever speak of those? They are -- amazing! I wish they had been invented at my time!"

"They are quite useful, I've heard. Publicly available transport for long distances, some of them, if one does not have a car or the money to ride in a plane. Most, though, are used for transportation of goods, coal, livestock, lumber, metal, cars, food... to get them where they need to go, hundreds and hundreds of miles away in only a few days."

It's one of humanity's more sensible ideas, he thinks.

It takes about three minutes for it to pass fully. They watch until then.

"They are," Teja agrees.

Pause.

"What one might do -- how one might run a realm well, using those! Be it war or peace, supplies for an army or traded goods, workers that go where their hands are needed..."

Pause.

"And all men tell me is, 'Oh look, you dead barbarian, we have things that go bang, and things that go whoosh and things that go beep to amaze you'. This, however, is a new invention that is indeed truly useful!"

"It is. I intend to ride one, some day."

Yrael shakes his head, bumping his shoulder against Teja's before heading into the mall-like area and towards the stairs.

"Come on, you dead barbarian," Yrael says, fondly. "I have flimsy and cheap cotton tee-shirts to amaze you."

Or something.

Teja gives a brief, fond chuckle at that. "Ahhh - but you introduced me to trains, also," he says, following.

"And I am going to introduce you to jazz, as well. The shirts are just a bonus, then," he grins.

Some people take the escalator up to the second floor; Yrael take the stairs. Something about escalators make him worried that his tail will get caught in them.

Whether he has a tail at that moment or not.

It would not occur to Teja not to take the stairs. He has seen escalators, and also elevators, in his forays to the modern world; but secretly, he thinks they're for old women with heavy bags, and for young women with small children, respectively.

Not something he would wish to use.

The lazy bit of Yrael (which is most of him) would like to take the escalator. The cat bit of Yrael (which is also most of him and overlaps quite a bit of the lazy bit) doesn't want its tail to be caught.

It's the same reason one will never see Yrael sitting in a rocking chair.

"Here we are," he says, heading into the large entry under a sign proclaiming it to be the Big Easy T-Shirt Co.

Teja follows him inside, and looks around.

The choices are quite amazing.

"I would have one that is black, if that is permissible?" he says.

Yrael glances at him, eyebrows raised, from a row of hangers that have dark red shirts with angry things written on them.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I do not know -- perhaps one should wear colours for such a concert?" Teja says. "I know not much about the symbols and colours of those clothes, and what opinions and loyalties they represent. Only that they seem meaningful. Eirene gave me one with her symbol on."

Pause, during which he browses the racks. "What, for example, would this one mean?"

It is brown, and says 'ARCHAEOLOGISTS DO IT DOWN HOLES'

Yrael tilts his head at it.

"I think it is meant to be suggestive. Archaeologists dig up ruins and things to see how people of the past lived, so they do dig holes. The pun is that they dig holes, but they also might have sex in those holes... with another pun on the word 'hole,'" he explains.

Teja quickly puts the brown t-shirt away again. "I would have nothing to do with it, then," he says. "For the innuendo -- the digging up of old things might be interesting. I was told that the lost cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum, that Pliny wrote about, have been found again -- the men who did that would have been archaeologists?"