[center] [url=https://fontmeme.com/fonts/paranoid-orange-font/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210408/5c88a40e482e2d6feb9b470679aaf4cd.png[/img][/url] [/center] [hr][hr] [center] [b]Level:[/b] 1 [i](3/10)[/i] [b]Word Count:[/b] 1,110 [b]Location:[/b] Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon Marketplace [b]EXP:[/b] +1 [/center] [hr][hr] Back out in the late morning sun, tensions mounted in the northwest court. A mysterious man and a fractious frog had been upping the ante in terms of indignation, the bets piling closer and closer to outrage, and it was about to cash out. Their squabble hardly went unnoticed, but while most of the shoppers shied away from the escalating conflict, someone couldn’t turn a blind eye. Mercer became aware of a slight tremor in the ground, and acutely aware of it getting stronger, until an enormous shadow fell over him. A smooth, bass voice, deep and rich as a vat of Al Mamoon coffee, addressed him firmly but without malice, compounded by a smooth metal echo. “Is there a problem, sir?” When Mercer turned, he found himself dwarfed by a titan of a man, seven feet and seven inches of beige trench coat and lovingly polished bronze in the approximate build of a city bell. Glassy eyes stared down at him from beneath a fine inspector’s cap, and above a steely breathing apparatus. [url=https://xblafans.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Big-Band1.png]Ben “Big Band” Birdland[/url] made no extra effort to look intimidating, but he didn’t exactly need to, and his presence certainly exerted an effect on the shopkeeper. “Yeah, this creep just waltzed on up and started pesterin’ me with questions, disturbin’ my business, then got all uppity when I told him to beat it!” the frog complained. Mercer crossed his arms, looking the larger man up and down briefly before responding. [color=red]”I’m looking for someone. Figured the people around here could help.”[/color] He cast a glance back at the vendor from over his shoulder. [color=red]”I guess I was wrong.”[/color] The big man looked between the irate pair. “Then locked horns won’t do you a lick of good,” he told Mercer before tilting his head a touch. “Maybe we can help each other instead, if you’re in the mood. I’m on the beat for someone myself, a little girl with a big hat and bigger attitude, God bless the child. Peacock’s the name. Ring any bells?” Turning away from the stall so as to leave the perturbed frog to his business, he left his suggestion that Mercer should follow implicit. Mercer shook his head as he trudged along, leaving the amphibious shopkeeper behind without so much as a second thought. [color=red]"Name doesn't ring any bells as far as I'm aware. Still, you help me find who I'm looking for and I'll help you."[/color] There was the briefest moment of silence before Mercer spoke again. [color=red]"Other than a hat, a name, and an attitude, does this Peacock kid you're looking for have any unusual features? Anything that I should be on the lookout for?"[/color] Perhaps it was a stupid question given the sheer amount of diversity and strangeness in this new world, the hybrid of instrument and man standing before him being only one example of such out of many, but Alex thought it an important thing to ask nonetheless. “See for yourself.” After steering himself and the conversation into an alcove out of the way of foot traffic, Band opened a small split in his coat and produced a tiny, spindly mechanical arm with padded claws, no thicker than a permanent marker. Between the wedges of soft cloth was clutched a color photograph of a [url=https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/skullgirls/images/a/a9/Peacock_1p.png]young scamp[/url] with six eyes and a steely grin. Once Mercer got a chance to take a look, he retracted the arm back into his coat. “How ‘bout you? Who’s got you moanin’?” Mercer tucked his hands into his pants pockets. [color=red]"My sister, Dana. I've been looking for her for the past couple of months now, with little success. Seems people don't move about that often, so I figured I'd ask some of the vendors, see if they'd heard anything."[/color] He gave Band a small shrug. [color=red]"As you can see, that didn't go too well."[/color] Though the two had left the near-altercation behind, this guy seemed eager to tread the same ground. He neglected to offer any description of his sister, so Band let that lie. “Well, forget all that jazz,” the detective advised him. “If your way of askin’ makes people see red, you’re never gonna get the green. You got a name, watermelon man?” Mercer lifted his gaze ever so slightly. [color=red]"Mercer. Alex Mercer. What about you? You got a name?"[/color] “Me?” The huge man extended another claw from his coat that reached up to tip his porkpie hat by the brim. “I’m all there is of the most real. They call me Big Band.” Alex nodded, [color=red]"So, where's the last place you saw this kid at?"[/color] Shaking his head, Band replied, “Don’t mean a thing. Kid can teleport. Left me a note about some unusual suspects, tellin’ me to boogie straight out here, and I just rolled in on the blue train yesterday. If squat’s what you’ve got, all I can say is keep an eye out, ‘case we meet again.” He rolled his neck to get out the cricks and then did a quick visual sweep of the bazaar, as if he meant to pick his charge out of the crowd, but something else hit him. “That said, we could set our sights higher. Straight to the big cheese, no chaser. If anyone can send us on our way, it's the queen of this place, hmm?” Mercer raised an eyebrow, though the movement was obscured by his hood. [color=red]"This place has a queen?"[/color] Band looked mildly amused, feeling like this guy must be even newer here than he. “Uh-huh. The Cowlipha everyone’s mooin’ about. That palace over yonder ain’t for show. Heard from a little birdie she’s more interested in cheese than her own subjects, but if we find our way to the in crowd we might just get a clue.” [color=red]"Hmm. Sounds like a plan. I'll follow you there though. This city's still foreign to me."[/color] “Deed I do,” Band confirmed, getting into action. He set himself in a stance facing the exit where the bazaar rejoined the city proper. After a deep inhale, he blew into his mouthpiece. A stream of lines like musical staff, dotted with notes, flowed from the bronze contraption that protruded from his back. Everyone in the vicinity could hear what sounded like a giant saxophone as Big Band propelled himself across the ground. “Gang way!” he called between puffs. “Slow train rollin’!” In such a manner he cleared a speedy path to the palace. Jogging after him, as a full on sprint would have been much too fast, Alex followed Band along the path he'd cleared. Eventually slowing to a halt as his guide drew closer to the palace steps themselves.