Vacation in the Tropics (OpenRP)

Jayne noticed the street performer from the corner of her eye. He clearly wasn't native to Bilgewater and from the look of him, he might've been Noxian or Zaunite. He wasn't nearly as good as others but he sure was desperate by the look of him and she saw that look before. Her father's face wore that look every day ever since her mother got sick. The memory angered her and for a moment she was lost in thoughts. When she snapped back, she found the performer sitting down next to his cape which contained little to no money in it. She took a couple of gold coins from her pouch and threw them on the cape.

She then lit a cigarette using the chemical lighter that was installed in her dart glove and looked down at the sad performer. "What's your name?"

Jayne pushes Jay's shoulder back with the tip of her finger when he tries to hug her. "Yeah, no problems. Any place to sleep in this dump? Some place where I won't have to burn people who try to steal my money at that?" She said, showing her dart gun as both an explanation and a warning. It was loaded with a widow dart which was her top toxin.

"In any case, it's nice to meet you Jay. Heh, similar to my name. My name is Jayne, friends call me June. Weird vampire girls find me a freak." She said, going to shake his hand.

On the porch of what appeared to be a small fishing shack not too farm from where Jay and Jayne were speaking to one another an elder man sat in a rocking chair, relaxing and playing a tune on his harmonica. Today so far had been a good day for the man. He'd met his quota for fishing to make ends meet, won a little something extra gambling and even stumbled upon a few crates of imported booze from Demacia that no one would be missing anytime soon. Yup, that was about as good as it gets for the man most people in Bilgewater knew as Scrod.

However, while he rocked back in forth in rhythm with the song he played he stopped abruptly for a moment, frowning at the small fire pit built into his porch. It had some of the extra fish he'd caught roasting over the warm coals of the now deceased fire, but at this rate it'd take forever for his lunch to cook with the flint and tinder he lacked to relight it. He'd noticed the fire wielding street performer from his porch and decided to try and call him over since the show seemed to be over for now. "Hey you! Firehands!" he called out to Jay. For some reason a random drunken pirate with fire tattoos on both his fists going up his arms dumbly stood up and pointed at him self with a confused looks on his face.

"Not you! Yer' so drunk that you couldn't tell the difference between dung n' wild honey. Sit yer' ass down a'fore you go n' make a fool of yer'self." he barked at the drunken pirate. The pirate hearing this attempted to go over and confront Scrod but proved too inebriated to take more than two steps before collapsing while muttering something intelligible. Scrod shook his head in knowing disappointment before going back to trying to get Jay's attention, he'd rather not have to get up from his chair and have someone rob him of something he'd left there. "Hey street performer! The one that was tossin' the fire. C'mere a second, I gots me a quick favor to ask ya'." he hollered more than loud enough this time to be heard over the hustle and bustle of Bilgewater's usual activities as he waved Jay over.

"Oh, so that's how it is eh boy? Think yer' gettin' lucky n' ya' get snippy with an elderly man you think's wastin' yer' time is that it?" Scrod grumbled crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back in his chair.

"I can be quick about it, oh you bet yer' ass I can, but believe me if you slow down life some you get to enjoy all the little things you'd a missed along the way. Remember that n' you might just be thankful even if ya' can't remember who told ya'." he lectured Jay lackadaisically. In truth he was speaking from experience, not that Jay would know or care anything about it, but the old man felt it necessary to say. He paused for a moment on purpose just to mess with Jay a bit because it was blatantly obvious he wanted to get back to the woman he'd pointed at a moment ago. A little fun at Jay's expense in addition to the favor he'd ask seemed a fair trade compared to what he'd plan to give him in return.

"But I was young once upon a time too so this old salt'll quit his ramblin' n' let you along yer' merry way just as soon as ya' relight this here fire fer' me. Can't cook my lunch in a timely manner over a bunch of warm coals. See? To be fair I can give ya' somethin' mighty generous in return" he told Jay in his Bilgewaterian drawl, lazily shifting in his chair shuffling through each of his pockets looking for something. Having a good day so far gave Scrod the feeling that he should share his good fortune with others, and by the look of Jay it seemed the he'd fallen on hard times and could use some good fortune.

"That so? Then you best consider it a gift" Scrod said grinning as the coals were lit and his lunch began cooking. It truly were the simple things in life that brought the most pleasure, and right now for Scrod, the smell of lunch was one such small pleasure. He was a man of his word though and finally produced a key from one of his coat pockets and held it up to the sun briefly as if it held the answers to life. Standing up from his chair he went to the door of his shack unlocking it.

"Grow 'em big where your from don't they. You ought'a eat more though, get some meat on yer' bones..." Scrod went on rambling while he briefly entered his shack emerging with a rather large crate dropping it unceremoniously on the ground next to his chair before re locking the door.

"This' fer' you boy...do with it what you will" he said tossing a sack filled with more than enough money to get him a boat anywhere he wanted to go from Bilgewater. He immediately knelt down and went to prying open the crate on the floor. "N' this' fer' you n' yer' lady friend. Don't go thankin' me though. Silence is sometimes the best answer" he told Jay, slapping him on the shoulder as he handed him a bottle of the expensive liquor from the crate with a big goofy smile on his face.