Toby was glad that he had met Theo...whatever exactly Theo was. It was a bit hard to understand Theo through his gurgling speech, but Toby thought what Theo promised was to ask the ocean and its inhabitants about the location of the pirate ship that they thought had taken Ava. However, Theo asked that in return Toby stay put in Neocante and, when he returned home, to try and get the kingdom to adjust their lore to be more accurate regarding the ocean.
But how was he supposed to do that? How could he possibly get people to reform core beliefs? Would anyone even believe him? Lately Toby had gotten the sense that he was far from listened to. Ava had never really seemed pleased with his advice. Feeling utterly sorry for himself, Toby started to blubber and wiped some trickling snot onto his sleeve.
"Watch where you're going there," came a voice.
Toby wiped his goopy eyes and looked about himself. In his pity for himself, he had begun to wander aimlessly as Lucia had had to run off and discuss something, but she had assured him that she would provide him shelter in the evening. Toby did not realize that he'd ended up on a street with a busker. Toby appeared to be the only one who had walked close to him, the rest of the people on the streets made a big arch to avoid going near him.
"Sorry," muttered Toby, "I-I didn't mean to disturb your work."
"As you should be. I play what the gods tells me to play, so really you're disturbing the gods," the busker said before screeching on his flute once more.
Now Toby had really done it. He had lost Ava, nearly gotten lost trying to find her, managed to find a god-like being to help him, not know how to fulfill the god's request, and now had completely insulted the gods. He. Was. Useless.
Toby began to sob. It was hard to say what was a more awful noise: the snotty, pitiful attempts of Toby to stop crying or the continued flute playing of the busker.
Luckily, the busker ceased his playing so he could get Toby to cease his crying. "Are you alright there, mister?"
"Ke-keep playing, I don't want to upset the gods more."
"Eh they whispered that I could have me a little break. What's your story, friend? Yous don't look like you're from around here."
Toby then explained his whole sad saga.
"What's your name, friend?" asked the busker, "Mine's Toney."
Toby smiled a bit, it had to be fate his meeting this busker. "Toby."
Toney smiled. "I's got a proposition for ya. Since the gods talk to me and tell me what to play, perhaps I could help ye with your problem."
"How?" Toby asked in absolute wonder.
"Bring me back witchya to your palace and I'll play the songs that the gods tell me will convince yer people of the ocean god."
"That would be brilliant!" cried Toby, delightedly clapping his hands.
"'Course, I'll be needing payment."
"Whatever you need!"
As Toney resumed his grating and screeching tune on his flute, Toby thought perhaps his luck had finally changed.
(Prompt by Lisa McInerney)
NBC
Photo source
But how was he supposed to do that? How could he possibly get people to reform core beliefs? Would anyone even believe him? Lately Toby had gotten the sense that he was far from listened to. Ava had never really seemed pleased with his advice. Feeling utterly sorry for himself, Toby started to blubber and wiped some trickling snot onto his sleeve.
"Watch where you're going there," came a voice.
Toby wiped his goopy eyes and looked about himself. In his pity for himself, he had begun to wander aimlessly as Lucia had had to run off and discuss something, but she had assured him that she would provide him shelter in the evening. Toby did not realize that he'd ended up on a street with a busker. Toby appeared to be the only one who had walked close to him, the rest of the people on the streets made a big arch to avoid going near him.
"Sorry," muttered Toby, "I-I didn't mean to disturb your work."
"As you should be. I play what the gods tells me to play, so really you're disturbing the gods," the busker said before screeching on his flute once more.
Now Toby had really done it. He had lost Ava, nearly gotten lost trying to find her, managed to find a god-like being to help him, not know how to fulfill the god's request, and now had completely insulted the gods. He. Was. Useless.
Toby began to sob. It was hard to say what was a more awful noise: the snotty, pitiful attempts of Toby to stop crying or the continued flute playing of the busker.
Luckily, the busker ceased his playing so he could get Toby to cease his crying. "Are you alright there, mister?"
"Ke-keep playing, I don't want to upset the gods more."
"Eh they whispered that I could have me a little break. What's your story, friend? Yous don't look like you're from around here."
Toby then explained his whole sad saga.
"What's your name, friend?" asked the busker, "Mine's Toney."
Toby smiled a bit, it had to be fate his meeting this busker. "Toby."
Toney smiled. "I's got a proposition for ya. Since the gods talk to me and tell me what to play, perhaps I could help ye with your problem."
"How?" Toby asked in absolute wonder.
"Bring me back witchya to your palace and I'll play the songs that the gods tell me will convince yer people of the ocean god."
"That would be brilliant!" cried Toby, delightedly clapping his hands.
"'Course, I'll be needing payment."
"Whatever you need!"
As Toney resumed his grating and screeching tune on his flute, Toby thought perhaps his luck had finally changed.
(Prompt by Lisa McInerney)
Photo source
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