Beauty in the Sewer

That was an acceptable answer. Sometimes, though, someone who could not save enough for the new item was forced to continuously buy the cheaper replacement part over and over again, thus being more expensive in the long run, but survival was all about balance and choosing your priorities.

After a few minutes of silence, Claudius dared to ask softly, "How are things going with your sister? Not that it is my business, precisely, but I do hope things are going well."

How nosey was someone allowed to be in such matters? He was not certain, but he felt it was safe to bring up a subject already discussed. Sort of. He had done most of the listening last time, and he was happy to continue listening now. If she wanted to talk.
 
Having kept pace for so long, Ingrid figured the walk would be kept in silence until she spoke up again. Not that it wasn't unwelcome: Claudius had a way of silence feeling comfortable. It wasn't a lack of communication, it was just communicating without words. Which made sense, really. Apparently, two-thirds of their time together had been nothing but growls and grumbles on his part.

Imagine her surprise when he piped up to ask something. Something personal, no less. It didn't garner much of a response, aside from a quick glance and a raised brow.
"It's going alright. She's been less of a nuisance lately, that's for sure. Still not happy about me being out for countless hours of the day, but that's too bad for her. Should've figured I wouldn't have time for her showing up uninvited, y'know?"
 
Claudius hummed deep in his throat in understanding as he turned up another pipe. "She worries. It is standard to worry for those we care for. It is better than to be forgotten."

He stopped and reached up to grab the bottom of the ladder and pulled it down with a rattle and a crunch as it came down. He glanced at Ingrid before climbing up and pushing the manhole cover out of the way and crawled up into the abandoned house. He brushed off his knees then reached down to help Ingrid up.
 
"Depends. Sometime's it'd be easier for both parties if they just forgot everything and moved on. Stops future hiccups altogether."
Ingrid added onto the conversation dryly, her own gruff growl of confirmation sounding before. Ingrid didn't want to be forgotten: she just wanted Amalie to forget everything to do with her. The uncertainty, the worry, everything.

His offer to help her up was waved away with a quiet 'I got it', with the small woman clambering her way up the ladder. Evident by the way she staggered, she probably should have taken the help, but her pride would not allow it.
"The dusty old house. I'll have to come down here someday with some ghost hunting jazz, see if anything otherwordly stays here."
 
"There is nothing else here," Claudius said, carefully brushing himself off. He adjusted his jacket with great care. "I lived here for a short time before retreating within. It is safe here and quiet, but not fully out of sight. Or it was. New windows open every day as the boards fall. It is better to go below."

He watched Ingrid out of the corner of his eye, ensuring she would not stumble again or fall over before he stepped over a couple of boards and walked out into the busy market. As much as he did not like the humanity here, the hustle and bustle made it easy to hide. As long as no one ran into him, all was safe. If they did bump into him, they were in for a lot of pain.
 
"Mm, that's what they all say. Ever seen those crappy ghost hunting shows?"
A rhetorical question: she didn't see a T.V down there.
"They always figure there's nothing there. Then something...Falls and hits someone. Or they trip. Very spooky business."
At this point, Ingrid was on the tip of a nonsense-talking iceberg. Part of it was just chatter, part of it resided in a little more calculated reason. Maintaining a conversation reduces the chances of being stopped, and establishes to anyone around that she was with someone. As tough as she talked, Ingrid was aware of the dangers of walking in places like this. Her subconscious had her walk just that little bit closer to Claudius when they got to the more busy areas.

"You know where you're going, yeah?"
She asked, now not having the time to spare him a look: she was too busy watching the surrounding people with caution. It wasn't necessarily exclusive to here: she did it everywhere she went. Especially lately...
 
Claudius glanced at Ingrid. She was staying much closer than she normally did, seeming to be someone who highly prioritized personal space. Was she nervous? No, he decided as he watched her look around, not nervous, wary. Cautious. Like she was expecting to be pounced upon at any second. Was she normally the prey in this predator and prey world? He never would have guessed it of her, but he supposed now that he saw her in contrast with the others, it made sense.

"Yes. I follow the same route every week," Claudius said patiently, willing to help keep her mind off things. "First, I must turn in my coins. There is a machine just over there for that." He indicated a small bank branch that was thoroughly closed, but there was a coin machine in an alcove that took your loose change and turned it into bills.

He walked over to the machine and turned so his back was to the wall even while his eyes never left the machine. He took two socks and untied the securely knotted tops in order to dump in the change. A great clatter of coins caused a few people to pause and glance, but they quickly hurried on their way when they saw what was going on. Not their business, and not a threat. Nothing to look at. Claudius collected the bills and tucked them and the pair of stretched out, empty socks into his pockets before slipping into the street once more.
 
"I guess you'd have the whole placed mapped by now if it's once a week. It's the safest bet around here."
Watching the coins pour into the machine with temporary interest, she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. She was conscious of every move she made, and that made her nervous.

The coins reminded her of something however, discretely fishing through her pockets while she resumed her place beside him. Ingrid didn't want to risk offending him and outright give him money, but there were ten bucks spare with her in case he needed it. The sudden change in dynamic left her at a loss on what was appropriate and what would be seen as overbearing.
"You usually have enough from all that pocket change?"
 
Claudius finished shaking out his sock before answering. "Yes. I gather the coins I find every day from the grates. There is a surprising amount when you know where to look. I remember how much I need and bring only that much. The change gets... heavy."

The bills came rustling out of the bottom slot and he carefully folded them into groups before putting them in his pockets. He had a pattern he followed so precisely, it bordered on a form of OCD. He knew to the penny what everything he needed cost, and he always brought the even dollar amount, handing the change to whatever poor vagabond he passed on his way back.

"Have you need of anything?" he asked, turning to make his way to the next stall. He was a few minutes behind schedule. He did not like that.
 
"Nah, nah. Best I don't get anything from here. It's not really...A place I should be doing business."

Every movement and collection looked so organized, it made her wonder. Was it all out of routine? Or was it a forced precision born from the weariness of the outside? True, that may have been her projecting, but it had to have some truth- He was so distrusting of people as a dragon, yet he seemed to be doing fine here. Curiouser and curiouser..

For a while, she seemed to grow more at ease. Whatever vendors Claudius interacted with didn't receive as threatening looks, along with the people who walked too close. Though, her gaze still seemed fixed in one direction. A squint usually saved for people trying to recognize someone at a distance.
"If it's a lot of change to carry on the day, I'd be happy to get some of your change turned to notes before you head out? I get if you wouldn't want anyone handling your money, though."
 
"I would not with to impose. Thank you for your offer. It is most kind of you, but you seem so busy with troubles already that I would not wish to burden you further," he said, his quiet voice barely carrying over the crowd.

The vendors he stopped at were already reaching for the items he needed by the time he reached them, though they did give Ingrid very odd looks. She did not seem to quite belong here, though she didn't stick out as much as someone like, say, her sister might have. Further more, they'd never seen Claudius with anyone, let alone actually talk to them. His conversations with them usually consisted of the occasional muttered word and pointing. They did not dwell on it, though. Curiosity never paid here.
 
"It's not a burden, Claud."
Having lost sight of what she was looking at, Ingrid assumed the best and figured it was gone. This meant she could look up at him with the unamused frown commonly occupying her face. Without dwelling on it too much, she felt like she had to help. That's what she had to do, to be a friend. Seemed like basic 101 socializing.

Ingrid looked back forward and would have pressed on about helping, but jerked to the side when someone grabbed her arm from behind. She was just about ready to stop and do something everyone would regret when a chipper voice hissed into her ear.
"Keep walking, missy. Don't cause a scene."
"God.."
Fight or flight was instantly replaced with dread, as a figure mere millimeters shorter and tucked away in a hoodie walked on the other side of Ingrid as inconspicuous as manageable.

She couldn't even get a word in: Amalie had already leaned forward to peer past Ingrid, and from under her hood smile up at Claudius.
"I saw you two talking- Hello! I'm Amalie!"
"Don't say your name so loud, you idiot."
 
Claudius jumped and spun, ready to flee, his fingers hooking like claws as he dropped his bag. His eyes widened, his breath catching. DANGER!!

But... Ingrid wasn't reacting like he expected. She looked... humiliated? And like she really wanted to punch something or someone, but not like she was being attacked. Then the name registered. Amilia? As in Ingrid's sister? But what was she doing here?

He swallowed hard then leaned over to collect his bags. "Hello," he whispered, his words barely audible. He looked to Ingrid for a clue, his nerves still singing. He inched away from the pair, ready to run at any second, but he wouldn't leave Ingrid without knowing she was safe.
 
Oh goooooood....
Ingrid moved forward to help Claudius with his bags, but was promptly tugged back in Amalie's direction. There wasn't too much she could do, other than be there and feel awful. If she'd have known it was Amalie she saw, she would have turned tail and left. Or at least led her away from him. He was probably livid with her right now, and she couldn't argue.

Catching his gaze, all she could mouth was 'I'm so sorry', before turning to address her sister. Amalie, on the other hand, was a disturbing mix of collected, and furious. The grip on Ingrid's arm didn't dare to loosen, and the smile offered out was colder than ice. Apparently, the shifty behavior set off her own alarms for danger.

"Is this a friend of yours? With you? Out here?"
"No-- Yes--- Not- Not the kind of friend you're thinking. I was just lost, and...Asked for directions to get back to the main street, y'know? But!! Now that you're here, it's all good, and...He can leave...If he's freaked out!"
Ingrid's words weren't at all convincing, but she knew Amalie would accept them. Her sister hated causing scenes in public.

"I see. Thank you! I appreciate the concern, sir."
 
Not the kind she was thinking of? Directions? What did all that mean? It took Claudius' panic-muddled brain several tense seconds to work out the "code" in Ingrid's words. He flushed briefly, but not even his embarrassment could overcome his fear.

"I... I hope you are... safe now?" he stammered awkwardly, trying to think of what a "normal" person would say. Ingrid was giving him permission to leave, and he felt she would be wise enough to know when to ask for help when it came to a physical confrontation. He edged away even more. Sisters. They were sisters. She would be fine. "I am glad we came to someone you are friendly with. I... I need to... Farewell."

He fled. He did not feel all that heroic doing it, but he fled.

In seconds, Claudius was back in the abandoned house. He watched to make certain no one was spying on him then disappeared into the sewer tunnels. Heat crept up his cheeks once again as he trudged toward home, shoulders hunched. He'd left her. There hadn't been much he could do, but he'd just left her. That did not sit well with him. But there was nothing he could do but wait to see if she would come tomorrow.

If she could get away from her sister.
 
Both women watched him go, with varying levels of relief. Ingrid was glad he'd gotten the hint, and just hoped he wasn't mad at her. Though, her hopes should be elsewhere: hoping Amalie didn't murder her, for example.
Ingrid was never scared of her sister when there was wriggle-room to argue her case, but there wasn't much room here at all. The best course of action would be to just lay in the grave she'd dug for herself.
"...Am-" "Home. Now."

To say she got it in the neck would be the understatement of the century. It felt like an investigation: Amalie drilled her on why she was there, who she was with, what she was doing-- And if Ingrid took too long to respond Amalie would assume the worst. A trait they both shared, really...
"I was just helping a friend get some things!"
"That's strange: I recall you saying that friend was just a helpful stranger."
"I lied, okay?? He-- He just--- He's got problems, and-"
"Oh for god's sake, Ingrid."
Amalie groaned, burying her head into her hands and shaking her head. Ingrid lightly scooted away from her on the couch, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Why does everyone you have to associate with have some degree of issues?? What happened to you having normal friends?"
"They weren't my friends."
"I-- Please, Ings. I don't want you to end up dead."

Ingrid could feel where the attention was directed and repositioned her arms to cover the scar on her stomach.
"I'm not stirring up trouble again, I promise. He wasn't trying to stir up trouble either-- He's different. He's good."
She could tell Amalie didn't believe her, so it was left at that. Ingrid retired to her room, and Amalie left to stay somewhere else for the night.


.....It was tense, to say the least. Ingrid half debating not going to see Claudius after the situation, before reasoning that it'd make it worse. Groveling wasn't her style, but an apology was absolutely in order. She'd freaked him out. Or, rather, Amalie did: who wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for her.

"Claudius?? Are you around?"
Ingrid called out pleadingly, voice heavy from being out of breath. She was late, absolutely due to her previous doubts about showing up, and she'd be lucky if he decided to wait around for her.
 
A few minutes of silence. Nothing but an occasional drip in the distance.

Then a soft scraping sound, scales over concrete. It moved slowly and intermittently, as if the owner was cautious about his destination. Then a head appeared at waist level. FIrst the snout, then eyes, and finally the horns. He peered around the corner, looking all around suspiciously. Then his head rose high into the air as he stepped around the corner and gave one more look.

She was alone. Safe and alone.

Claudius sighed in relief and came the rest of the way into the tunnel and walked straight over to Ingrid. He lowered his head and nudged her shoulder gently. Was she alright?
 
Of course he wasn't here. Why would he? She could have put him at extreme risk, drawing attention like that. She should've been more careful. What was that saying, something about baby deer? Easily startled? Whatever it was, she felt like it could apply. He looked downright terrified yesterday.

The mental back and forth of blame switching, and the physical back and forth of pacing were both brought to a stop by the sound of movement. Slow, and sandpapery- he was here. Ingrid watched him approach from the corner of her eye, having stopped facing the wall, and only turned towards him at the shoulder nudge. She looked...Disheveled, to say it lightly. Not completely disheveled yet, but scruffy.

Ingrid shuffled back a little to give her hands room for gesturing: something done when she knew she was going to be talking a fair bit of nonsense.
"Claudius I'm really sorry about yesterday. I didn't know Amalie was going to be poking around-- Well, no, part of me sorta did, but I didn't think she'd be there at that moment. I probably shouldn't have gone with you anyway, but I wanted to see what you had to buy, because-- I dunno? I just--
I didn't mean for it to happen. I'm sorry that it did. It won't ever happen again."

Although it came out like her usual long-winded answers (skitterish and scatterbrained), Ingrid managed to convey her main point of apology across. That was a win.
 
Claudius purred softly and reached out to her again. He understood. She was curious, and it was only natural that her sister had been curious. What little he'd noticed of Amilia - outside of devastating fear and the desire to run - was her protectiveness of Ingrid. She was afraid for Ingrid. Ingrid might be able to take care of herself, but she had done something to make Amilia doubt that ability and want to protect her. Whether or not she was doing a good job or should even be there was not Claudius' business, but it was nice to see siblings caring for each other.

The dragon nudged her shoulder with his nose once more, trying to let her know she was forgiven. He was curious what her thoughts were on his spending habits, but that question would have to wait until later. Instead, he just nuzzled her shoulder then started investigating her pockets like an absurdly large dog. Did she bring him a sandwich??
 
Ingrid felt like she was forgiven too quickly. Whether he was just expressing it was okay because he couldn't talk, or if he was trying to settle her nerves, she wasn't sure. Her best guess would be both, he didn't seem to have the same knack she had for overthinking and overexpressing. From what she'd seen, anyway.

"Good to know you've got priorities in order."
Ingrid chuckled lightly, letting herself relax a little. Getting so worked up so fast made her nervous for reasons she didn't have. It would be wise to stop being so certain when assuming feelings. Using a hand to lightly push him away from her pockets, she set about digging through them to find what he was no doubt looking for.
The staple of this entire friendship.
The holy grail.
Chicken and bread.

"I hope I didn't stop you from getting food or anything yesterday."
 
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