[Mature] Make Merry While the Weather Shines

[Spirits of Adventure]

It was a strange feeling for June to feel melancholy, and one she didn't particularly like. Her typical modus operandi in social situations was to power on through, and being forced to stop and take account - like she'd had to do a few times already today - was something that made her feel incredibly uncomfortable. Others would have said she deserved it - June wasn't so sure that was fair. Still, nobody would accuse June Merryweather of not keeping her word. And if Kent was going to be one of her gang, that meant she was going to have to look after him.

Slapping her face a bit to try and get herself pumped up, she saw a nervous look cross Kent's face as she mentioned the Velvet Goose, especially as he mentioned that he owed them money. June pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed - she'd expected that she was going to have to start solving a lot of other people's problems if she was going to start a gang, but she hadn't thought it was going to be this soon. "...right. Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there." June nodded, and she kept tugging the supplies back on the main road towards the Velvet Goose. She rubbed her neck, wondering what that woman would have to say - though as she did, she felt a slight blush rise to her face, and her morale started to rise (amidst other things).

Still, despite all the chaos that had happened, at the very least she would probably be able to finish the job without too many more risks at least, now that she had Kent watching her back - at least, to the best of the ability Kent could do that. It was good that he was at least falling in line, but even June could see it was more opportunistic than either of them would like to admit, at least for now. If June was going to start a gang and get Kent on side, she was going to have to prove herself too. But owning an airship was a long way away - how was she going to prove herself in the meantime? The Velvet Goose at least seemed to hold--well, not the answer, but a possible answer. In any case, she had a feeling that the events of the past hour were nothing compared to what was waiting on the other side of the Velvet Goose's doors.

As they walked along, something started occurring to June. "So, uh...when you say you owe money...like how bad are we talking?" Granted, it would probably irritate him to go into detail, but at the same time June figured she at least needed to know what she'd have to face. "Look, I get it, it's not my business how or why, fine, fine. But I just mean...look, if you want to me to help you get food, I at least need to know no-one's going to stab you when we walk in." Food, after all, was going to be of little use to Kent if he was dead, and June did have a vested interest in him staying alive.

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Kent nodded waving a hand over his shoulder at June's similar shift in attitude to match his own. He spotted the last street, the lamppost sign marred with a small wood-burning of a goose showing the way. "Coin- shouldn't be much more than a halfsilver- I think. I got laid up in a bad way- couldn't pay 'em even if I could have made it out there to do so," he explained with another nervous scrub of his cheeks, wincing at the pain in his fingers. "Place is just around the corner here, shouldn't be too bad this close," he added, pointing to the defaced signage.

"No one should be stabbing me- probably- I can explain and trade work, you don't- I mean- if you're gonna be the boss I guess-" he shook his head and shrugged, uncertain how to finish the series of thoughts and trying to suppress his hunger. The growl of his stomach twisting itself into knots immediately punished his hubris. "Food- sounds good. Maybe none of 'em will recognize me- not exactly my best these days."

He turned his attention back to the mostly calm street, the occasional larger wagon moving by them as they worked along the final stretch. "Did they tell you where to drop stuff off?" he asked, looking to the wagon and then the old doors at the front before eyeing a side alleyway. "Maybe round the back? Don't imagine they want you walking through the front-" he guessed, indicating the path and adjusting his slow movement that direction.

When he reached the alley, he leaned his way around the corner briefly before continuing into the dim path. "Don't see much-" he offered over his shoulder, half slinking along the uneven cobble with a sudden appearance of skill beneath the edge of weakness and exhaustion. "That looks like the right place," he motioned for a door with a flickering lamp and no other marking of note.