Stone's Throw

[Andreas Amell]

"Making of oneself a canvas, a demonstration to the world of the passion within," Andreas murmurs, eyes gleaming. He, on the other hand, seems to very much approve.

[GamesMaster]

"I suppose. Or a memorable target. There is strength in anonymity."

[Andreas Amell]

"Perhaps," Andreas replies carelessly, a shoulder shrugging in obvious unconcern. "But that sort of strength... is might preserve but it cannot enrich."

[GamesMaster]

"Sometimes that's all you can do," sighs Adonis, and the weight of the world seems to settle back on his shoulders. "Thank you for speaking with me," he says, as Dreas opens the front door. 

[Andreas Amell]

"I-- yes, of-- that is to say..." Andreas swallows thickly, gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. Then his feet plant and his shoulders square as his head lifts to met his blood-father's eyes. "Does your culture permit us to speak more?"

[GamesMaster]

"Of course. You are not one of the Tribe, but you are a Catfolk and a citizen of Nyra, and thus, my office is open to you." A pause. "And as the son of an old friend, and the grandson of a colleague, my home is open to you as well, if you would prefer a more informal visit." 

[Andreas Amell]

Son of an old friend... "Right. Of course." He takes a slow breath, then nods. "Alright. Then... we'll speak later."

[GamesMaster]

"Take care, Andreas Amell." He gives a small nod of the head, and then he turns to go. 

[NPCs]

As time passes and Charon starts learning the city-- well, the parts he can access-- the merikos catfolk discovers that finding a job is actually a lot easier than he'd first thought. Work is actually rather plentiful, truth be told. Despite this, Charon finds himself still looking for work nearly a week after his assault by the guard. This seeming contradiction is due to the types of work that are plentiful: insulting low paying, decidedly illegal (and rather immoral to most), requiring specific, difficult to acquire skills or training, not available to catfolk (or visibly poor), high risk of injury or some combination of those.

Street sweeper: better pay than he'd braced himself for but a shockingly competitive field (twenty-seven other people seeking the sole opening)
Sewer cleaner: either low pay or magical talents needed, surprisingly high risk (and nose-destroyingly disgusting)
Scribe: specialized knowledge and skills required, not for the poor and unconnected (he'd known it as a burdened cast walking in).
Drug runner: illegal (though he might have been willing to go for it if the dealer hadn't insisted he take half his pay in drugs)
Gardener: catfolk and poor need not apply, and either low pay or training needed (at least only two households had thrown him out).
Store clerk: everything from low paying to high risk (he's desperate but not desperate enough to sell bathtub alchemist fire)
Pickpocket: illegal and high risk (it had seemed like it might work, at least for a little while, until he'd been beaten by Coalies)
Ditch digger: too scrawny, too young (he hadn't even gotten to say a single word before being dismissed)
Whorehouse scrubber: degrading, low pay, illegal, and... his best option remaining

"You part'a a gang? Blood with any guards or sumsuch?" Deckie Dukes is a squat human who looks like he should have a goblin or midget troll in his bloodline but doesn't. He's literate enough to do his shopping and most street signs, do enough math to track his staff's hours and pay, is convinced that people's intelligence is tied to how short they are (the air gets thinner the higher you get and brains need lots of air to breath right) and has the ability to actually smell out liars. He's also the head of the menial staff for the Pretty Purple Palace (Three Pee for short) and the man Charon has to convince to get a job.

[Charon Tethras]

"No," he says, tail twitching. "That a problem or an invitation? I'm game if you are."

[NPCs]

"No gangs, no guards," Duke says firmly, nodding his head sharply. "Don't need no-body poking in dem noses at Three Pee, you gets it? You how a broom 'n mop work?"

[Charon Tethras]

Great. There's definitely legal problems here."Yes, I can work a mop," he says, a little cranky. 

[NPCs]

"Yeah? Good, good, less training den. Howsabout using ash grit and rags? Done it afore? Gots you a strong belly?"

[Charon Tethras]

"Ash grit? No. But I've cleaned with rags and I've got a strong enough stomach to birth a calf gone breech."

[NPCs]

Deckie squints, glancing down at Charon's legs for a moment as if puzzled. "Wot?"