[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/bee7cdf3-093c-430b-91b1-6433cbfb2ac7.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkgoldenrod][b]Location:[/b][/color] Benha (Trains)
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	[color=b8860b]"Well then, I'm positively chuffed to have you aboard, old boy!"[/color] bubbled the Lord Major, in response to Mahendra. This was an odd collection of people that he had chosen to surround himself with on this day, as it was on the previous few days. A rag-tag selection of persons from varying walks of life each with their own histories and skills that hopefully were able to mesh well together, or make life entertaining at the very least. That sentiment certainly carried over with the newer additions to their company. Maybe not "additions" persay, more than people who had chosen to associate with them on the perceived temporary: J.C. and Bella, to be precise. If this woman wished to be of use as their interim scholar, then so be it. It was an awfully convenient arrangement. Funny how somethings went like that. Fate appeared to hand out luck with an eyedropper and honestly, Reginald sometimes didn't know when to view situations such as that with gratitude or with suspicion. As with so many things lately, the Lord Major was going to have to take this on faith. 

	Reginald took note of Bella's suggestion that they visit Athribis first. Much as he was not overly a fan of following someone else's lead blindly, he had to admit that he was not the man with the operational knowledge necessary to make the proper informed decision for anyone else. The fate of their little day trip was int he hands of these strangers. Polite people, certainly. Willing to lend a hand, it seemed. And J.C. was quite the storyteller over decent whisky last night, which counted for a bit in the Lord Major's estimation. But still virtual strangers. However, as he had no basis to go against the advice of the lady, Athribis it was. 

	Bobbing his head from one side to the other as if weighing options, Reginald responded with a light-hearted, [color=b8860b]"Oh heavens, young lady! I've a mind to tell you, I have been ensconced in the grip of [i]Arthritis[/i] for quite some time and I'd not recommend. Curse of getting older, I'm afraid. But if you insist..."[/color] Reginald chortled a bit at his little joke. [color=b8860b]"Ah, what ho? I've gone and made a funny, you see. HA!"[/color] His smug grin at his own amusement continued as he assembled into the line and counted the people in his entourage. Making a quick count, he prepared to procure the appropriate tickets. [color=b8860b]"I say, were we all traveling to the same locale?"[/color] 





[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=bdb76b]Haring Reddish[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/9338edd2-f3d4-4583-ad00-e783c62b7ac8.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkkhaki][b]Location:[/b][/color] Benha (Bazaar)
[color=bdb76b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Arabic[/i] [/center][hr][hr]

	Haring was not a professional actor like the lady with whom he was associating, though he did have his own talents. One of which was the amazing ability to appear exactly like a bumbling, nondescript, nigh stereotypical buffoon employed by the Crown with the dubious distinction of being issued a firearm. A walking, talking, oblivious, [i]Lord Majoring[/i] stereotype of Britishness as viewed by people in this part of the world. He roamed about a little bit with Josephine, looking at this and that as he went about. He looked at many an item but did not actually make a purchase at that time. Instead of really taking a good look at the wares about, aside from the casual glance at thing he might peruse in earnest if only they had the time after their initial business was concluded, Reddish was mostly listening to people talk. 

	The best way to hear something was to listen. It was a sentiment echoed by his father's words as a child, complete in its simplicity. Granted, that simplicity made him think that dear old dad was a raving lunatic and/or utter dumbass sometimes. As he grew older, Reddish realized that the very lack of specific intent of those words made them a point of honest, subjective wisdom. He wanted to gather information. He had to listen. 

	That didn't mean that he wasn't going to talk. Oh no, in order to be read as a tourist among the locals, he had to play the role. [color=bdb76b]"Oh [i]heavens yes[/i], dearest. We mustn't keep the honey waiting, hmm? But [i]before[/i] our foray into sweetness, Sweetness..."[/color] he paused to allow for the obvious pun to sink in. Even winked a little. Damn, he was good at acting like a goofball. It was acting, right? [color=bdb76b]"...I find myself interested in the local [i]knickery[/i] and [i]knackery[/i] about! Shall we?"[/color] He gestured over to one of the stalls where the vendor and another man seemed to be arguing. In a much quieter, more serious voice, to his market strolling companion, [color=bdb76b]"Keep an eye out for your watch, Miss Clarke. I shall try to find out what they are going on about. One might learn something."[/color] 

	One thing was obvious, he did learn something. Reddish learned that these people could speak their native language a hell of a lot faster than he was comfortable translating it, as enraptured as they were in their heated negotiations of currency. The object in question was a saber, though he was not paying especial attention to the item as he was assembling the hasty ramblings of them men into understandable English in his brain, alternating with the words and phrases which were more familiar that seemed to slip their meaning through the haze of the linguistical fence through which he had to peer. It was bartering in Arabic, and it took some concentration on Reddish's behalf to appreciate.