Alva meets Omen

Alva_Coinin stepped out onto the streets of Fallen London for the first time, naught but her meager bundle of belongings; she'd been banished from the surface to New Newgate for a crime not of her own doing, framed as an outsider, her appearance one that could make a false description hard to deny as anyone else. Frosted blue eyes scanned about as she clutched that bundle to her chest... It contained what little she had aside from her dress and boots; a few personal trinkets and the one precious thing that belonged to her; the locket belonging to her mother, a gift to her from her husband, Alva's father... Both gone years ago at this point. Aside from that, there were some minor scraps that might bring a few pence if she could find a place to pawn them. Even as dingy as the limited light of the gaslamps was and the gloom between, it was almost bright compared to the dank, oppressive darkness she'd found herself in while in her cell. And now, though... On the streets once more, albeit ones wholly unfamiliar to the lass, and she clutched her bundle tighter, making her way down the cobbles, checking shop windows for a location she might garner a bit of money in order to find room and board...

Omen_Gryph was out and about, dressed in their usual attire that concealed much of his true nature from the others about London. After all, it was awfully drab to get bothered by those surprised by his beak. Or his paws. Or his tail. Or- Well, you know. Either way, he was quite happily eying the crowd, listening for secrets or other shenanigans he might get involved in. Finally, though, she catches his eyes, and the crowgryph paused for a moment, his mask concealing his gaze as he regards her, intensely, seeming outright fascinated by her, really. "Hmm..." Muses Omen, quietly, as he would start to tail them through the crowd.

Alva_Coinin didn't survive on the streets for the last several years by being unaware of her surroundings... So it only takes a few glances around when checking shop windows to catch the masked figure tailing her.. And while she does her best not to give tell that she noticed him, but Omen can likely pick up on the stiffening of her posture, and the quickening of her pace gives the lie to her demeanor... She'd duck down a sidestreet, then another, before her luck ran out and she found herself in a dead-ended alley. Turning, backing against a wall and watching for the one who was following her, Alva steeled herself to meet whomever it was... Not knowing intentions, and having heard, ill things of the 'Neath, what whispers there were on the surface...

Omen_Gryph would do his best to follow, of course. Not everyone could shake him, but some could. Alva, it seems, was not one that could, indeed, and he paused as he closed off that escape route, glancing about warily for a few moments before he slowly approached, and paused, giving her some space, but not too much that she could wriggle free. He hummed softly. "You're a pretty lass. New to it, are ye?" He asked, seeming amused. "...Not to sneaking about, though."

Alva_Coinin has her back to the dingy bricks of the alley wall as she does her best to take on a brave face as Omen comes 'round the corner and addresses her... But for all her stiff upper lip and squared shoulders, he can tell it's all she can do to keep her eyes from darting about for an escape. "Ain' really had many say such, sir, but yea, I've, jus' arrived down here... An' aye, no stranger to the streets, even if I am t' these ones."

Omen_Gryph would chuckle. "You draw the eye." He admits, freely, leaning on the cane he'd been walking with somewhat, voice muffled. A faint hint of purple in the eyes under the lenses of that mask. "Indeed, I'd say you'd draw plenty more eyes. Though, perhaps, if you'd indulge me, I can give you somewhere to go." He would chuckle softly. "...I intend you no harm, stranger, that much you can be assured."

Alva_Coinin hesitates a moment, but a pang of hunger strong enough to make her wince changes her mind, the girl giving a wary nod as she steps away from the wall, and Omen can get a better measure of her as she steps out of the shadows more, albeit the twilit nature of the 'Neath means it wasn't much. Barely five and a half feet in height, and even aside from her natural pallor, there's a slight sallowness to her skin, and a definite holllow to her cheeks. and when she extends her hand after a moment's hesitation, there's almost naught but tendon and bone beneath that pale skin, a clear sign she's missed far more meals than she's made for a long while. "If'n you'd be so kind t' see me to a pawning-shop, sir, I've a few things I migh' be able to peddle and make my way with..."

Omen_Gryph mulls this over for a moment, then nods. A shop, he can certainly do. "Oh, I am certain I can arrange for some form of trade for you." He would say, with a nod. He moves forward and delicately grasped that thin, underfed waif by the hand, giving a firm squeeze. "My name is Omen." He offered, with a smile in his voice. "...I'd show my face in turn but... well, it's complicated." He glanced around, getting his bearings... then nods. "...Come. We best be quick, before someone else notices you." He would say, and without waiting for any form of protest, Omen is off, setting a brisk pace toward the exit of the alleyway, an arm draped about her back. Given, he was in fact taking her to a shop, but the likely outcome wasn't what she thought. He's sure she might forgive him in time, though.

Alva_Coinin nods slightly at Omen's giving her his name, though his refusal to show his face caused a slight look of consternation to come over her face... Had she fallen in with the wrong sort? There was a slight squeak of surprise as he starts to hurry her along the roads, clasping her bundle to her chest tightly with her other hand to keep it to her chest and keep from losing what little she had to her name. "A-ah! My name's A-Alva, sir!" It took some adjusting for her to match his pace, her underfed condition leaving her a mite unsteady on her feet, but she did her best to keep abreast. "Your mask, if'n I migh' be so bold t' ask? You, ain' wanted by th' law, are ya?"

Omen_Gryph would wind up supporting her, more likely than not, if she needed it. The gryph chuckled softly. "Wanted by the Constables? Certainly not. Well, at least, not currently. They can be fickle like that, as are most down here." He murmured, "No, it's for another reason. One that I will be happy to show you once we are less... exposed." He chuckled softly. Twists, turns, a brisk pace, but slowed some to suit her condition, but finally they arrive at... Well. Mr Ware's shop. Who knows how far they'd just traveled. Hell, they'd probably passed several shops on the way here. But it seems, this one, was special, at least to Omen. He ushers her into the gloom of the interior insistently, closing the door. And... promptly, he'd set about removing the mask. The reveal of his face being a beak that mostly fit neatly in that plague doctor mask was probably not the expected outcome, of course...

Alva_Coinin is puffing slightly as Omen keeps up the brisk pace, though the lass gives a murmur of thanks as he slows it slightly to account for her. There's a bit of relief to her voice as she speaks with that assurance, and gives a nod. "A relief, sir... I'd, just been dumped from New Newgate; had been sen' down from the Surface... Got accused of things I'd never do, but since I'd no-one t' vouch for me, an' well, false witness bore 'gainst me ain' rightly gonna match anyone else... I got shipped off down here, did my spell an' tossed to th' streets again." There's a look of consternation once more at the rather darkened shop she's being ushered into, swept into the dim interior by Omen... Though as she turned in time to see him reveal an avian countenance, those icy blue eyes going wide in shock. "I... I've rightly tumbled down th' rabbit'ole, ain' I..." She's, not entirely sure how else to react to, well, seeing her very first nonhuman aside from wary confusion, clasping her bundle to her chest. "A-and, is this shop yours, sir..?"

Omen_Gryph laughed. "Well... no. It's... a friends." He said, clicking his beak lightly as he glanced around. "...Not sure where Mr Wares is, just now, though I really ought to insist you stay a spell on account of your..." He gestures vaguely at her body. "...State." He nodded. "...Mr Wares can discuss value soon enough, so don't panic. He's really quite good at it! I just... clean up the shop, and such the like." He said, even as he shucked cloak and more, the dark innards of the shop clearly somewhere he felt safer to expose more than just beak. Cloaked wings are revealed, and rubbed at absently, before he lets his tail slip free. In a far silkier outfit than the bulky plague doctor kit he has to wear outside. "Stay the night, Alva, get some rest, hmm?" He offered, with a slight beaky smile.

Alva_Coinin gives a soft, nervous swallow, a flicker of concern on her face as the name, or perhaps title, tickles at the back of her mind; reminding her of something heard on New Newgate... But, unable to dredge up the memory to full recall, just a niggling concern in the back of her mind. "I, don't have anything which with t' pay for my staying yet, sir... I-it's why I was keen on findin' a pawning-shop, to, try and get what I could from what I have..." She nodded slightly to the bundle in her arms; a scant amount seeming contained within the threadbare woolen shawl. "Do, you have leave of your, friend, to invite someone t' stay at his shop, sir..? I'd not want to trespass, or get handed to the Constables just after bein' set loose..." For all her reluctance and worry, the poor girl seemed just shy of swaying on her feet, clearly taxed by the jogging pace, and moreso by the lack of a solid meal; poor thing may not have ever really had much to eat in days given how unsteady she seemed.

Omen_Gryph would chuckle softly. "Well, of course. I live here too!" He would say, amusedly. "He's just on one of his trips... somewhere, I think." Where? Who knows, bats are enigmas, wrapped in mysteries. "There's spare beds, and he's really quite accommodating. All he asks is that he gets to meet anyone I bring home." The crowgryph gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's all a bit much to take in, the 'neath. You should take advantage of the respite while it's here, yeah? No constables, nothin' like that. Promise."

Alva_Coinin still seemed almost reluctant, worried this was too good to be true... But it might behoove Omen to try and guide her to a seat, or even to a cot in the back, as the poor girl seemed about ready to faint on her feet~. She did give Omen a nervous smile, nodding a bit. "I, do hope that he's as accommodating as you say... Or at least I've 'nough to repay the night's stay..." She seemed about to say something more, but stammers slightly, her eyes fluttering... Of dear, it seems the poor waif's a bit too overtaxed, and starts to tip towards into his arms in a swoon, the combination of the exertion and strain overcomes her~

Omen_Gryph blinks a few times then catches the swooning lass, midway though his attempts to get something set up for her to sleep in. ...As a result, instead of guiding her to a cot, she might wind up in a certain pile of blankets behind the counter instead, because, really, even if she was a waif, he wasn't going to be able to get her upstairs. "...Oh dear." He murmured. "...Well, I'm sure he'll like her anyway." He muttered under his breath.