One man's trash is a hatchling's treasure [OPEN]

[notaneggbaby]

Characters: Conrit Ceto AND YOU!
Location: Metal Sector, in the alleys behind various businesses
Situation: Little Mr. Ceto has decided to go dumpster diving. He's specifically looking for any burnt and thrown away food, but also for anything that could aid a homeless kid-- gloves, scarves, extra shoes. You can never have too many shoes.
Warnings/Rating: None! BTW, feel free to either prose or action spam, I'll follow suit!

The last time Conrit had found himself staring down the alien streets of a city he'd never been to before, it had been nearly three months ago. Spring had come and the nip of winter was fading, which was a good thing. He hadn't had much in the line of clothing to bundle up in, and for his kind, even a balmy spring morning meant a shiver or two.

He was looking forward to summer in the city, of convincing his brother not to send him home to the harsh, inhospitable mountains of their home. Not that he didn't miss his family-- he did, tremendously-- but Conrit had gotten used to Nieve. If Ladon took him home, there was no telling when he would be able to come back.

And then... this had happened.

To be honest, he was still in shock, and doing as he'd learned on the streets of Nieve more out of a need to do something than because he really should. Thankfully, an alley was an alley was an alley, and trash was relatively the same. He could pretend for a few moments that he hadn't washed up ashore somewhere completely different for a little while, until he was able to cope with it. Until then, he'd look for what he could use in the bins full of the things others had cast off. If he was lucky, he could socks and gloves to layer on and keep warm if he's chilled, and maybe even something to eat.

He started rustling through the paper bags and garbage from a restaurant, looking for anything charred or that he could ferret away and burn up later.

Comments

[demon_brat]

And he got another kid, seeing him do that. Because this kid was Damian Wayne, and he was the kind who would bluster and be pretty unpleasant... and was way past the point where he would just ignore a child who seemed to be in definite need. Of. Help of some sort.

His tone was even almost nice - not quite so much so as his clothes, right now, but nice.

"You need something? I'm Damian."

That. Should be simple and straightforward and not intimidating, right?

[notaneggbaby]

The last time Conrit was in an alley with another kid (other than Violette, anyway), things had gotten rough. He'd probably still have a bruised chin and split lip if not for cousin Aza's healing abilities. Thus why he tenses, despite the voice calling out to him being young, and offering a name right away. He relaxes a little bit when he sees the boy, though. Street kids have a certain look to them. Dirty faces, clothing that's patched at best and torn to shreds at worst. Conrit has only interacted with one rich kid, and she was probably the closest thing he had to a good friend.

So he lets himself relax, just a little. He's still well aware of the weight of the knife strapped to his ankle, though.

"Um. I'm Conrit." He looks up at the well-dressed kid, contemplating how to explain scrounging to someone who's probably never done it before. "I'm looking for stuff."

Eloquence, thy name is Ceto.

[demon_brat]

"Hello, Conrit." Damian tilts his head to one side (wondering, idly, if Colin ever had to do this, back home. And how many of the children Humpty had dug out had been doing it regularly.)

"If you're looking for specific stuff, I can show you better places to find it."

[notaneggbaby]

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a few things. Grungy, mismatched gloves, a few cigarette butts (for trading with other kids of course, Conrit's not about to start up a habit like his brother), and most precious of all, a lighter with some fluid left.

"I got some things that'll keep me warm. But I need to find food, or I'll get hungry in a few days."

[demon_brat]

Damian... sighs. Carefully.

"I can get you better ones of all of them - so can you, they gave you money so you can buy things here, and I can show you where from. What kind of food do you like?"

[cowled]

[Bruce was always alert to the sounds of the street, the back alleys and alcoves that other people ignored or overlooked. Even as Bruce Wayne, because there was no telling when a situation might happen that needed the attention of the Batman.

Today, he was on his way back from work when he noticed it. A slight rustle, out of place amidst the usual noises of an early afternoon. He stopped, glanced both ways along the street and then slid unobtrusively into the alleyway.

Anything out of the ordinary was worth investigating, in his opinion. And this investigation brought him up short.

A child?

Bruce's eyes narrowed. Hard to tell if it was a kedan or one of the foreigners, though if it was the latter why on earth would the child be rummaging through trash? Every foreigner was supplied with a set amount of money to use at their discretion--

Either way.]

Are you lost?

[... a safe question, and without the low-pitched growl necessary to Batman.]

[notaneggbaby]

[ Conrit jumped the moment he heard the voice, looked up with a deer-in-the-headlights stare and the expression of someone caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The cookie jar here happened to be a garbage tin, though, and he was elbows-deep in the thing. He extracted himself slowly, backing up a couple paces. Usually, this was when the yelling started, once the confusion as to what he was doing cleared. The owners of restaurants and stands and such in Nieve were almost as offended by kids going through their trash as they were when robbed. Conrit was used to the yelling, and then to the chasing, and sometimes getting caught.

He braced himself, watching the man and cautiously holding the half-burnt chicken breast he'd found against his chest. ]

N-no. Sir.

[cowled]

[Bruce crouches down so he's a little closer to Conrit's height. Keyword there being 'a little'.]

My name's Bruce. It's all right, I'm not going to hurt you. May I see that a little closer?

[He gestures at the chicken breast. No, he doesn't want to take it, merely to look at it.]

[notaneggbaby]

[ Conrit backs up a little because, well. Despite the fact that he's being friendly, there are a million alarms going off in Conrit's head. The first is, of course, that there is a stranger talking to him and that can be a Very Bad Thing on the streets back in Nieve and-- he has to assume-- here as well. The second is the one he's had since he was an eggbaby, the fear and awe and general enigma surrounding humans. It's enough that he has to swallow back a growl and instead hold the food closer to himself. This could keep him alive for a few days. He's not about to surrender it that easily. ]

Um. No one else's gonna wanna eat it. Sir.

[ Mine mine mine mine. ]

[cowled]

[He holds his hands out, palm-up in a non-threatening little half-shrug.]

Mm, I believe you. But you see, I'm worried. Some of the food around here is really only good for kedan, and there's a very specific way of telling.

[notaneggbaby]

How?

[ Not surrendering that chicken breast. Nope. ]

[sophos]

Annabeth tends to meander, and right now she's doing so invisibly throughout the Metal sector. She knows it best, and that makes it easier to sneak around.

She spots someone -- a kid, by the looks of it -- digging around through dumpsters and trashcans and frowns. She knows what that's like; she's erring towards seventeen now, but she'll never forget her time on the streets. And he doesn't really look like a kedan.

Taking her hat off and coming back into sight, she cautiously approaches in a completely nonthreatening manner. Despite having some observation into what he's holding or browsing, it's a good conversation starter as any. "Hey. What are you looking for?"

[notaneggbaby]

Conrit jumps at the "hey" and turns his head sharply to look at her, frightened by the sudden voice. He stares for a long moment before pulling back from the garbage bin he's been rooting through and avoiding eye contact.

"Um. Stuff."

Such a brilliant conversationalist.

[sophos]

She gives him a small smile, nothing overbearing but friendly enough. She stops moving at his scared look and folds her hands together in front of her.

"Stuff could mean a lot of things. But I'm guessing in this case it's food or clothes?"

[notaneggbaby]

He nods, tugs at the brim of his hat a little to be sure it's on firmly, then roots through his pockets and comes up with some of the things he's found. Gloves with worn-through fingers, a single sock, a cracked and broken device that reminds him of a very small radio, and a lighter.

"I didn't bring any stuff here except my clothes and hat and I'm gonna need stuff to stay warm or I'll get sick."

[sophos]

"Pretty impressive," Annabeth says with a nod, and she means it. "But I don't think most people who end up here bring a lot of stuff from home. Did you get an apartment?"

[controlledvariable]

"You're better off a few blocks over, if you're looking for something edible."

Steph's already done this routine, and she's got a decent memory that she can remember the best spots she found. The grocer not far from here tends to lean towards the wasteful side of things, which means throwing out some perfectly good food.

For her part, Steph, dressed in civvies, is leaning one shoulder against the wall of the alley, arms crossed loosely, and she's made sure not to look like she's trying to block the exit. Her posture is casual, as non-threatening as she can make it, because she knows a little of what it's like to be a street kid, and doesn't want to scare Conrit.

Latest tag back ever ;;

[notaneggbaby]

He looks up, startled, and nearly falls out of the trash bin he's practically climbed into. He does his best to recover, but is clutching something close to his chest and looking at her with wide eyes. Someone coming upon him in an alley during a stint of dumpster diving is frightening no matter how non-threatening a person stands or sounds.

"U-um," he stutters... and just kind of looks at her, unable to think of what else to say.

s'okay!

[controlledvariable]

Steph uncrosses her arms, holds her hands out in the universal gesture of I'm not going to hurt you and gives what she hopes is a reassuring smile.

"sorry, didn't mean to startle you," She's got to get out of the habit of assuming everyone can hear her approaching, the problem with spending too much time with Bats, "You okay?"

[notaneggbaby]

He nods slowly, but keeps his distance. So far he hasn't met any humans willing to make his hide into boots, but he's not about to give anyone the opportunity to prove true the stories he heard when he was tiny.

"Uh huh."

He has a chicken breast, blackened on one side, clutched close. It's of course making a mess out of his shirt, which is already grimy from the other bins he's been climbing through. Not that Conrit minds. He's gotten very used to being covered in a layer of dirt or blood or both, no matter how obsessively his brother tends to scrub him.

[controlledvariable]

She watches in silence for a moment, then carefully sits down on the ground, legs crossed and her back against the wall. It serves two purposes; she's indicating that she's not planning to go anywhere for a while, but she's also trying to make herself seem like less of a threat. Of course, she could be up and at him in less than five seconds, but Conrit doesn't know that, and generally someone sitting down is going to take longer to attack.

"I meant it, by the way, about the dumpsters down the street. They throw out more packaged stuff, so it stays edible for longer."

[storm_warning]

[Ororo knows what it's like to be down and out, but kid? There is no reason to go trash-diving in her books. She's on her way past the alley when she hears the rustling and pauses. Weird.

She ducks beside and then behind the building, spying the little dumspter diver. It hits hear right in the feels to see, though she does her best to cover it and put her hands on her hips.]

I heard the service sucks here, but do they seriously expect us to fish our food out of the trash?

[notaneggbaby]

[ Hearing an admonishing adult voice is enough to get Conrit to tumble out of his current trash bin excursion. He falls on his rear, knocking the air of himself while at the same time losing grip of the chicken breast he finally found, and it lands burnt-side up on the alley floor.

He's quick to scramble over and nab it before defensively curling his arms around it. He bites back a growl, instead just scooting backwards and away from the opening of the alley. ]

[shifu_sifu]

[Conrit, meet Shifu. He may have spied him from the alleyway opening, he may have meditated and predicted his arrival. He's not really indicating which when he appears before him during one of his digging events, his ears relatively flat and his expression relatively blank. He is just watching, for now.]

[notaneggbaby]

[ He smells Shifu first. Humans have this strange way of camouflaging their scent with cologne or perfume or scented soap and too many baths. Animals don't, and Conrit is used to identifying his friends, family, and prey via his nose before his eyes. He's used to foxes and squirrels and deer, and this one reminds him a little of raccoon. Ladon would be mad at him if he ate a cat or a dog, but not a raccoon.

He debates changing forms so he can pounce whatever it is. He's never hunted before, but he supposes he could learn. But then it's there, staring at him, wearing... what looks like human clothing.

That's odd.

He rumbles a curious little noise, but makes no move to attack. Not yet. ]

[shifu_sifu]

[An ear shifts to pick up the sound and he looks down into the trash bin, then back to Conrit.]

It is better to eat the fruit unspoiled if you are to enjoy its true sweetness.

[Have some fortune cookie logic.]