Beauty in the Sewer

Claudius almost smiled at her "prickly" comment as he watched her slowly release her mental and physical tensions. She was taking this a lot better than he had feared, and he appreciated that she was still being honest and not trying to pretend everything was "okay" and nothing weird was going on. Yes, this was weird, very weird, but not horrible or dangerous, and she was coping well.

"I think I can answer most of your questions fairly quickly right now," he replied with a tiny shrug of his own. The horns and the spines made shrugging a bit more of an interesting maneuver than most would think. "I do not know. I remember flashes of what life was before I was here, but I do not know what happened to cause me to become... this. It is as you said: I woke up and I was here. I found myself in an alleyway, and I quickly learned it was safer down here. There is... not much else to tell."

He paused, shifting uncomfortably as he pondered his own words. No, that was not quite right, and he could not lie to her.

"I am sorry. That is not entirely true. There is a little more to tell, but I am not ready for that yet," he confessed. "I like to think that... in time. If you continue to see me. I do not blame you if you do not."
 
She didn't need much more info than that. He'd said so much more than she was expecting. Enough to dispel her intrusive questions for tonight. Ingrid told herself it was because she didn't want to push, but in reality, she just didn't want to cause him any more stress.

"You tell me at whatever point you wanna. You've given me enough to think about for the next, what, ten years?"
Ingrid wished she knew what to say to be more comforting. She hoped trying to be lighthearted to the best of her ability would ease his nerves.
"We can change the topic, if you'd wanna? Take your mind off it for a while."
 
He blinked at her, an almost owlish movement from him, and tipped his head slightly as he considered her question as carefully as if she had asked for secret information. "I do not know. I do not talk to people outside of the market when trading. I do not know what to talk about."

Even the idea of trying to come up with a topic of discussion was unnerving to him. What did people talk about? According to memory - which he fully recognized was likely tinted with rosy coloring - he used to be good at casual conversation and, dare he say, suave, but now he felt he had as much cleverness of speech as a blender.
 
Duh. Of course he didn't know how to hold a conversation. For once Ingrid found herself in a position of superior social knowledge. First time. She wracked her brain for any sort of reasonable conversation topic.

"Plenty of things to talk about. Could talk about..!...Uh....Well. Could ask me a few questions? Since I've interrogated you, could flip the script. Oooor...Could talk about, uh...."
There was nothing she could think of. Shared interests was the go-to, but what happens when you know of no interests the other person has?? Or any interests of your own???
"Hobbies? Sewer pipeline positioning? How shitty the world up top is?"
 
Claudius waited patiently. Then he understood. She was not much better at this than he was. He found that somewhat comforting, even if that meant their social lives were doomed. He nodded slowly as he took in her options.

"I do not have hobbies, I do not think," he said slowly. "What types of activities constitute a 'hobby?'"
 
If only she knew. Ingrid hadn't had anything considered your bog-standard hobby in years. Avoiding rent and debts or relentlessly trying to find things out about people for her gain were the only things she did. The pause to scramble for an explanation was masked behind a thoughtful 'hmm'- How did she say it?

"It's...A thing you do. Something you enjoy, that sometimes gives you a sorta skill? Like, uh. Painting would be a hobby! Or cooking. Things like that. Some people have specific hobbies. Sculpting specific things, or collecting certain stuff. It all depends on what you like to do. And how much money you have."
 
"Then... I have a hobby of collecting?" he offered cautiously. "There is much that can be found and rescued from the sewers if one is willing. It is not something that is particularly... glamerous, but it can be financially beneficial at times. I save the coins I find and spend them on Fridays. Sometimes I find other things, like toys or watches. Or strange buttons."

He started walking casually, looking up at the grates that had brought him all the mentioned treasures. Inwardly, he was cursing himself bitterly for slipping up. What if she connected the watches he mentioned to the watches the dragon had brought her? Would she think he - either version of him - had gotten them by illicit means? Or would she think- he had no idea what she might think, but he hoped it was not ill.
 
Ingrid felt herself grinning triumphantly. So collecting was just a sewer thing. It...Made perfect sense. Not much else to do down here. She felt her eyes drift down to the floor to try and look for any sort of hidden shinies. All she got was a few kicked aside cans.

"That's fair. You could probably make a killing overtime. I got given a few watches by him, a while ago. People lose alotta stuff down the drains."
Commenting with another nod, she initially didn't think anything of it. She assumed they shared the same hobby. Maybe the dragon had gotten some of his watches from Claudius?
 
"Yes," Claudius agreed softly as he slowed near another grate, this one an access port. "It is a thing to do when all is dark." He stopped and looked up through the grate at the light slowly gathering in the sky, not yet strong enough to turn off the streetlights. "I should go. The daylight comes."

He turned and started to walk back the way they had come. That was the fastest direction back down into the lower levels. It would be safer down there during the day. Sometimes, in beast form, he came up to the higher levels with caution, but the risk of being spotted always plagued his mind. Better a large, dark mass that could blend in or be explained away as a trick of the eyes rather than a humanoid shape that someone might think needed rescue.
 
Daylight? Christ, how long had it been?
Ingrid saw the slithers of sky through the grates, and hissed a curse under her breath. She was going to die of exhaustion one day, and it'll be all her fault. The realization brought on a yawn, the suppressed tiredness of the day starting to set in.

"Yeah. Till next time, Claudius. Take care."
She spoke after him, but didn't expect much of a response. With recent discoveries, she understood fully why he wouldn't want to hang around.

Ingrid, now in a sudden rush to get home, made her way out of the sewer and into the cold. Super early morning walks were refreshing on most days. Most days. Today wasn't most days.
Today was good for other reasons.
 
Claudius watched her go wistfully. Maybe... maybe someday he could join her? Then he shook his head at his own nonsense and hunkered down. No, that was foolishness. If nothing had changed by now, why should it ever. It was nice to dream of leaving the sewer and being free again, but when would that ever happen? It wasn't like he could take a bus, and being seen in his other form was not an option.

He resumed his retreat deep into the bowels of the sewers and disappeared until the sun went down and it was safe to return to the surface. What else was there to do? Nothing that came to mind, and he had been trying to come up with the answer to that question for a long time. He felt... stuck, mentally. Whenever he tried to think of a way to escape, to change his life, his mind would offer a few tentative ideas and then shut down. Perhaps he was cursed by a good, old-fashioned, fairy tale witch as punishment for some act in a previous life. It would be nice if she'd left him a memory of what he'd done so he could learn not to do it again, but perhaps she was satisfied with his punishment of eternal imprisonment.
 
It was a peaceful time of day. Around about the time people were clearing up and heading home. Nobody thought twice about her emerging from the sewer because nobody was around. Ingrid walked all the way to her apartment with little to no thoughts. There was a lot to think about, but a lot to take in before she could properly sit down and think about it. She'd think it all over when she was home. Alone. Just her, no one else. No one to bother her.

At least, that was the plan...
Ingrid found her front door unlocked. Okay, no big deal, she sometimes forgot to lock it, the worst-case scenario was that she got robbed, right? Wrong.
Mobster intruder, serial murderer, debt collector-- All of those would be preferable visitors to who Ingrid found sitting inside her residence.

"....Amalie???"
Oh no.
 
Claudius woke in his nest and slowly uncurled his reptilian form. Ah. Another day. He stretched slowly, his serpentine back rolling like a wave as joints popped and cracked, his stretch punctuated by a massive, toothy yawn and a full-body shake. Being a beast did not mean waking up was any easier as it was for anyone else. A quick drink and a breakfast of leftover dog helped to wake him up fully, and he headed out to spend another day in the tunnels. It was not so bad. He got to find a lot of interesting things, and now he had someone to show them to.

He was somewhere under the restaurant area - the fancy restaurants, not the fast-food ones - when he heard voices above him. The tunnels were small here, and he rarely went this way, but he had found an abundance of coins and a few wallets here over time. The wallets he usually kept because there was no way to return them to their owners, and most of the stuff was replaceable, anyway. He did not understand how someone could so easily lose their wallet, but it was more common in this area than any other.

The current wallet he had found was a beautiful, hand-crafted leather thing, and he was cautiously picking it up out of a suspicious puddle to place in one of the sacks on his back when a soft gasp froze him in place. His eyes shot upward, fearing discovery, only to see neither of the two people above him were looking at him. The man was kneeling in front of the woman, holding something up, asking a question. He did not catch the words in his panic, but as he calmed, he realized neither was looking at him, only each other, and the woman was nodding frantically, her eyes brimming with tears. What was wrong? Was he threatening her?

The glimmer of light bouncing off the ring as the man took it out of the box caught his eye. Oh. That was all it was. The man slid the ring on her finger, and she commented on its beauty before leaping forward to hug him. The ring must have been too loose, however, because as her hand flung around the man's neck, the ring flew off and bounced down into the sewer. Claudius hastily drew back as cries of horror rang out. He dared not move, stuck in his confined area, but he was not in direct view. For well over an hour people tried to reach the ring to no avail. Finally, they gave up and left.

Thoughtfully, he squirmed forward and picked it up out of the goop of mud and rotting weeds, the tiny golden circle fitting around the tip of one claw only just. It was a nice ring, not at all cheap, and real. He'd learned to spot that. With a bit of awkward flipping, he was able to see the inside of the ring. It was inscribed with names, and what looked like some kind of loving phrase. He reached up and slid it into his smallest sack before starting forward once more.

Maybe... maybe, for once, he could make a tiny difference?

Claudius made his way to his usual meeting spot with Ingrid and waited patiently.
 
Her landlord was to blame for this entire mess. Her landlord, herself for not being sneaky enough, and whichever parent seemed to house the detective gene her and her sister had apparently inherited. Amalie had tracked her down after being ignored, saying silly things like 'it's been years' and 'it's only me who's here'. It didn't matter if it was just her. Ingrid didn't want anything to do with her.
Yet she was there. Decidedly spending the weekend in town. If Ingrid was lucky, perhaps she'd be scared off how awful this part of the city was? She'd be so lucky.

To Ingrid's relief, Amalie wasn't nosy enough to poke around her room-- Something that could have been disastrous for at least 30 different people. She told Ingrid she'd be visiting around the evenings because that's when she gets off work (curse Ingrid's tendency to complain about her job on social media.)

To hell with it all. It didn't matter. For the next few hours, none of it should bother her. Right now all she had to worry about was landing right on her feet after jumping down a manhole.
"Heya pal. You down here today?"

He always was, but it was a habit to ask. Her way of announcing herself, in a way.
 
A soft rumble echoed through the stony caverns of the pipelines as he came forward. He leaned his head down, examining her, still keeping a cautious distance. He grunted softly then nudged her shoulder in greeting. She came! She hadn't stayed away! He had not admitted it to himself until now she was here, but he had feared she would not come again.

Hmm.... but she smelled... different. He lifted his head and eyed her skeptically. What was that new smell lingering on her? He could not place it, and his tail tapped in irritation at his failure.
 
As if to scare away the stresses of what was going on, the low grumble helped her feel a little less pissed about the state of her life. Patting his nose at the nudge, Ingrid tugged the zipper of her hoodie down to grab food from the inside pocket. She had to relocate food storage to have her outside pockets equipped with heat packs. Nothing worse than freezing cold hands. She couldn't stand them.

"What's with that look? Did I not brush my hair this morning?"
Ingrid asked in amusement, holding out the sandwich in one hand and ruffling her hair with the other.
"Shouldn't make a difference to you: I never do it anyway. Though, got a feelin' I might be forced to start.."
Oh she'd gotten it in the neck the moment she'd gotten home. Amalie was appalled by the mess-- It wasn't even her house! She had the nerve to call her 'unkempt'. Tsk.
 
Claudius grunted. A hairbrush probably wouldn't hurt - or, at least, it wouldn't hurt after she got the tangles out - but he wasn't really one to pressure anyone for that kind of thing. He tried to stay neat even if he did live in a sewer, but that was his prerogative. Why would she be forced to start brushing her hair? It wasn't like he could or would call her out on it.

Then the scent of food overrode all, and he gladly accepted the sandwich. It disappeared in a single nip, and he spent a moment savoring the flavor. Mmm, so fresh and good! Maybe next Friday he would attempt to buy something like this. It would be nice.

Then he remembered something. The ring! Yes, he was going to show it to her. Maybe she could get it back to the crying lady. He reached around with one claw and carefully hooked one of the strings of the bag as it nestled amongst his spines. He'd tried to clean it off, and the bag was still a little damp from his efforts not to lose the tiny thing. Carefully, he swung the bag around and held it out to Ingrid with a soft whine. The bag dangled from the tip of his claw, the smallest thing he'd ever tried to give her.
 
Farewell, poultry snack. You fought bravely.
Idling around, Ingrid leaned her back against one of the pipe's walls and fumbled with her zip to try and pull it back up. It was too cold to me walking out with an open hoodie. A less-than-friendly chill reminded her of it.
She had been adjusting her collar when a small bag was held out to her, by the big dragon. It was funny to see a big claw try to be so careful with something so small. Must be important if he was showing it to her. It was different than the usual gifts given, or trinkets shown.

"Huh, whats this?"
Ingrid muttered aloud, taking the bag and rummaging two fingers inside to hook- A ring? From the looks of it, not a cheap one either. She'd never seen one in person, but after a quick close up inspection, she concluded it was a celebration ring. Promise ring, engagement, one of those.
She looked up at the dragon suspiciously.
"Did this fall down one of the grates?"
 
He grunted his assent. Yes, it had fallen. He craned his neck to look up at the grate above then pretended to watch the ring fall right in front of him. He was loathe to reduce himself to childish pantomiming, but that should be clear enough, yes?

Now he tried to shuffle around and look over her shoulder, glaring intently at the ring. There was something on the ring, something that would help her find the owner. He looked up at the grate again, then at the ring, then at her. She could get it back up there. She could return the ring to its owner.
 
"Oooohhh yikes...."
Ingrid cringed at the confirmation, shaking her head with an unapproving tisk. Dropping something like this down here was such a common mistake she was surprised it happened so much. Expensive both in money value, and sentimental. A tragic loss.
...How much would it sell for?

Feeling grooves on the inside, Ingrid managed to spot and read the engravings carved into the inside of the ring. Damn, that made it kinda worthless. By the way he was looking, he knew that engraving was there- And by the way he was looking between it and the grates...
"You want me to take it back?? Do you know how many people make the mistake of getting married around here? Could be anyone...With these names.....Eugh."

Ingrid knew it was the moral thing to do. It'd make two people happy. But she was lazy. She looked up with a deflated huff.
"..Are you sure you'd wanna give it back?"
 
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