Window Shopping (Toryuki/ Samuel)

The bustling streets of the Commercial Ward, shoppers from all sorts of backgrounds, shapes, sizes, and planets, wandering around and purchasing, discussing, and enjoying themselves. And among them, the tall Dystoran known as Toryuki walked.

Brushing her way past the others nearby, the giant lizard alien moved so that she could stand before a row of windowed shops, looking through the glass of a weapon store. The different technology of different alien technologies... To her, it was something truly fascinating. Her own weapon, The Emperor's End, was designed with the intent of eliminating from a distance, yet different species seemed to have developed different ways of fighting. A large "finger" to what can be compared to a chin, Toryuki hummed to herself in thought, gazing over the variety of weapons on display - some obviously more advanced than others. Intriguing indeed.

Junction was a place of filled with curious things, and to many this was exemplified in the Commercial Ward. No matter where on the tower you decided to take residence or your prior walk of life, the streets of the ward were the one place you were liable to to visit even if you never went anywhere else, creating a remarkable diversity in the beings that you could find yourself passing by on the streets. This same diversity was mirrored in the stores, from the doors of Toha and other enterprises familiar to some and unfathomable to others, to the great numbers of businesses that would open their doors to offer things you might never otherwise see outside their homeworld.
Here was a place of similarities and difference that would surely provide something of interest, given chance - like reptilian entity in ragged garb staring through a window, gazing over armaments one would think beyond their means, constructed from the designs of numerous peoples.

The clacking of a cane against the ground marks the approach of the skeletal gentleman, an unidentifiable scent wafting from the cigar in his jaw as he peers through the window alongside Toryuki. 「Interesting is it not, to see such things displayed so openly for purchase? The level of shock it can induce in some of those that arrive here can be truly a sight to behold.」 His assumedly unexpressive skill gives the impression of an amused smile, a twinkle to the dark irises that glow in Samuel's sockets. 「Though it does tend to quiet them to know the display pieces are non-functional - or at least, reduce their protest moderately. There is little point in restricting access to deadly items such as these if they can be acquired easily by breaking a thin sheet of glass.」
He looks over to the Dystoran to whose side he now stands, warm laughter emanating from his still yet strangely lifelike features. 「Your eye seem more appraising than fearful, however...might I inquire what passes through your mind?」

The sound of the cane caused the Dystoran to glance away from the objects of her current interest. Gland on the back of her neck shifting as she took in what she saw, the appearance was odd indeed, even among the many odd species she'd come across in Junction. It was like a skeleton, yet clearly not a skeleton of a Dystoran, or a skeleton of something she'd seen before. And unlike those she was used to, it dressed in a rather fanciful manner. A personal disdain of hers, yet that mattered not. His commenting on her action was intriguing though - an action not too dissimilar from what she would often catch herself doing to others. Waiting for the refined dandy to finish speaking, Toryuki responded in kind.

"Interesting it is indeed. It is rather obvious though that these are just display models. The lack of wear on the triggers, the almost plastic sheen... And the lack of the sense of lethality. I envy those that cannot discern what a real weapon is from one for show. You would be right however, I am appraising it as it were. I fancy myself as somewhat of an engineer, yet in a world - if where we are can be called such - so diverse, to limit myself to the technology styles of my home world would be a logical fallacy. The state of a races weapons can often tell you the style of its culture or technology. Do they use projectiles? Light based weaponry? Combust chemicals? Each one shows how the different technologies of the entire species progress, and in doing so, define how its culture acts. If I act only in the ways of Dystor, then I'll never grow in wisdom. A cocoon of ignorance is not something I intend on wrapping myself within."

Pausing to stretch her neck, Toryuki then turned to face and look down at the skeleton man, taking her eyes off the weaponry and instead focusing it on the new conversational would be in front of her. "So, now that your question has been answered, I will pose my own. What caught your attention to myself staring at these wares? Outside of the height of course." Upon the final bit, the Dystoran let out an almost grim chuckle to herself. So many species seemed to be smaller than herself, and she herself was not tall by Dystoran standards. Perspective was funny.

「What was it that drew my eye? What indeed.」 He gestures to Toryuki with a gloved hand. 「Mainly the garb you wear. Your attire shows no resemblance to that of policing or military forces, local or no, nor to some of the more eccentric compositions shown by those who collect. All that lies on your frame is a worn, tired cloak, a wear of style little seen on those who do not live destitute, and as such could not afford or familiarise themselves with the things so displayed here. And yet, your gaze suggested a developed understanding of these things - one that you have proved in the way you talk of them.」
「It makes you wonder what history one might have had to have found such knowledge. Not a kind one, in likelihood, to know well tools of harm. The stories you must have!」

「Ah, where are my manners?」 The skeleton takes a bow, tipping his top hat to the Dystoran before placing it back on on the steely strands that coat his skull. 「My name is Samuel. A delight to make your acquaintance.」

This skeleton certainly liked to speak, if nothing else. Not that she could comment on such, finding a way to make a speech out of a sentence herself.

Still, this stranger had humoured her thus far in conversation, so where would be the harm in reciprocating the favour?

Nodding her head towards him, the Dystoran spoke in return. "Toryuki. Likewise for your term of address. And I suppose I might have stories. Then again, we all have stories, no? That's the entire thing about living. A life is a story in and of itself. Thinking like that, weapons could be considered a match. No matter what other purpose there is for them, there is also the existence of them to eliminate a story. But, through that, tattered ashes and burnt pages remain. An interesting thing to philosophically think upon in my opinion."

"Still, the life span of my race is longer than that of other races upon Junction that I've met, so perhaps my idea of stories would differ from yours, Samuel. Cultural and life differences can make all the difference in such discussions."

A deep, warm laugh resounds from Samuel's skeletal frame once more, resonating with the sensations like those from the chirping of birds or crickets. Even among the urban surroundings, the presence of lush and vibrant nature he carries with him doesn't particularly seem to dull. 「True, how very true! A tale for every tail, a fable for each set of feet! So many differences exist to bring a world of change, innumerable ways for a tale to be written or closed!」 With a flick of the wrist, he tosses his cane to his other hand, and taps it on the glass of the window. 「Devices such as these draw my curiosity as to the tales of those familiar with them because they tend to write in a harsher contrast, to leave indelible stains on the pages and add aspects far harder to erase.」 He lets the cane slide down in his hand, loosening his grip and letting his fingers slide over the top as he brings it to the ground once more. 「But they are not unique in that. Hardship is the most ardent writer of which I know, its words impactful and its presence an influence long after its writing is done. Arms may be one of its most common pens, but in many ways will it find a way to interject and introduce its scribblings, shaping lives forevermore if only given chance.」

Oh, he did not often enough get to have these conversations. The trivialities and pleasantries he so often engaged with were delightful in their own ways, but it was these talks of the way of things that so often proved more enlightening. 「Allow me to step back from that before I get too far ahead of myself, though. Whatever the author at hand, if a life is a story, how is it so? What even is a life in this place, full of so many varied entities that differ from ordinary living, as I do?」 A heavy gaze rests on Toryuki, imploring answers. 「What even is your idea of a story that mine might differ from it, and why would your longevity cause it to shift?」

Toryuki chuckled to herself, crossing her arms beneath her cloak. It was pleasant to hold a conversation with one that held similar styles of talking to herself. Her perception of a story, hm? Her reason that longevity would change her peception?

"To me, a story is a culmination of experiences. Even a novel, a piece of fiction, can only be born through ones experiences that lead up to their imagination. In that regard, word of mouth, fiction, news, all are essentially the same. A story in my opinion, is never rooted amongst facts, no matter how much it decides to try. It will always be fiction to all but its author, who may view it as their own truth. I suppose that's the facet that comes from only witnessing ones own viewpoint. As I said at the beginning however, that is merely my own perspective. Because of that, I believe that my longevity compared to other races has allowed me to witness more. My own story is one that ties itself in to the many stages, some openings, some closings, of the stories of others. That gives perspective. Of course, I will make no claims that such is the correct answer. Only my own."

Giving a grim smile, Toryuki went on, returning the question to Samuel. "So, now that you know my angle, would you indulge me with your own?"

「Hmmm...」 It was worth taking the time to think on this. It would hardly do to give a underdeveloped answer.
Samuel seemed to 'blink', the glow of his eyes dimming and relighting as if he actually had eyelids. 「I believe that I'd not call stories a culmination of experiences so much as...a snapshot of them. A selection of events, perhaps.」 He clears a non-extant throat. 「Real or not, they are a group of happenings, grand or minor, with a perspective attached to them. The events shape was happened in the most literal sense, and the perspective gives their interpretation, the way it is delivered to those that would read or hear it. The recipient may reinterpret, shape to their own perspective, substitute theirs in the place of that of the telling...thus, you get two different tales from a single original source.」
「Thus, that is the way the story unfolds. Even from the same teller, the same happenstance can become a new story, shaped by a new perspective and added to by examining prior tellings.」

「In ways, it is different an the same as what you have said.」 He seems to grin. 「All a matter of how you interpret these words, no? A story of its own.」

"Indeed. That is similar yet alternative to my own interpretation. This in turn leads to a new story, set up by our own words. A tale that, with each retelling, will alter. The tone it's conveyed with, the words used, the time it's told, and even the memories. Our own conversation is in this regard a truly unique fable, although all fables, even those uploaded or written, are notable as unique with every passing and reading."

As her words ended, the Dystoran's gaze returned to the weapons on display. A thoughtful look crossed upon her face for a brief moment, before passing as her gaze shifted elsewhere. "Regardless, I'll admit I'm curious. You know of my reason for looking at the weaponry on display, yet why did you come to this part of the Commercial Ward? I assume you have or had some business in order to be here beyond talking to a Dystoran such as myself."

Samuel gives a small nod, smiling fondly with an unchanging face. 「Indeed. Such is the way of tales, to be passed on and change with every hearing.」

A shine comes to illuminate eyes, a gleam in sockets empty and not. 「My only business today is to see what I may find - to browse the streets for curios, new ventures and intriguing fellows. Just as tales shift, so do the streets, bringing fresh delights to the fore with each passage through.」
「I think that's something worth investing yourself to, no?」

Giving one final, stern nod, Toryuki gazed to Samuel. "I agree. Still, I must be going, and even with your own plan to simply peruse the location and what occurs, I would not desire to keep you held up as the saying goes. Still, I hope you mind not that if I spot you again, I may approach you for conversation. If ever you're among the Lower Ward, I can often be found there, although as can be evidenced today, it is not the only place I can be found loitering."

Turning, the Dystoran stretched out her neck from side to side, before stepping forward, and away. "Farewell, Samuel. May our paths cross once more."

[Exit]

Samuel waves a hand in the air dismissively. 「Speak nothing of it. It has been a delight to speak with you, it would have been a delight to keep speaking til the sun came down, and if you wish to speak with me again, then that is something I shall welcome openly.」 He chuckles. 「Til we speak again, Toryuki.」

As the Dystoran took their leave, the skeleton's gaze turned once more to the display of armaments, the items that caused so many much terror...
And that to his most recent conversational partner, were a window into the very culture of the beings that had designed each and all of them.
Perhaps he ought to learn to see such things himself...it was, after all, a delightful new perspective. One less maligned than he'd come to expect of such things.