Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Aug 15, 2016 17:02:58 GMT
It took a moment for Thrakazog to understand what Cait meant by the guild 'stores'. In his head, he was thinking that perhaps, somewhere in the mercantile district, there was a series of carts, or actual stores, run by her people. They would sell goods to everyone, and somehow, he could 'claim' them on some kind of tab that he would eventually have to pay back. That was nice, but somehow, he felt that having such debts would mean he'd always be behind - always be working just to pay off those debts, and never getting ahead. Mind you, he didn't have grand aspirations that required a lot of money, but his mother had always taught him to buy things he could afford, and not owe.
Frankly, he didn't quite latch onto the whole 'rogue' moniker. Perhaps that was his failing. If he did, maybe he'd steal the boots, or burgle a house for their clothes, or given his size, become a thug and demand items from passersby in dark alleys. But he didn't, because he wasn't that sort of person. He might be called a rogue, for working for Captain Caitlin, but if he was ever to actually BE one, he had a lot of work ahead of him.
It finally dawned on Thrak that Caitlin meant guild 'stores' in a way that wasn't a place, but an inventory. His face lit up, as did the lightbulb above his head, and he nodded at her in understanding and appreciation. He got up, towering over both her and Faolan (and most people in the immediate vicinity), and when Caitlin asked him if he wanted to see the fights, he agreed whole-heartedly, "Yub, yub!"
It was only when she followed up with, "Before you compete..." that he blanched, and paused.
"Wait... whut?" He asked, thinking maybe he hadn't heard her right.
Faolan was talking though, mentioning sword fighting versus pole-arms. They started leading Thrakazog from the spot, and as he tailed them, he kept trying to get a few words in, "Wait... nub... me wanna see dem... nub compete! Dere's... me is nub..."
Post by Zona K. Noakes on Aug 15, 2016 18:34:10 GMT
"Well I guess our job here is done then." Zona said with a smile as she looked over to the the new person who just approached. Zona paused for a moment as she looked at the dark haired woman, she seemed familiar, though Zona couldn't put a finger on it... "It's nice to meet ya. The name is Zona by the way." She added with a smile. Just then an announcement was made, turning a bit Zona listened in for a moment to hear what was going on before turning back to the group. The short haired blond then asked if anyone wanted to do that. "Ehh, seems interestin' I might give it a go, though I've never worked with anythin' like that before." Zona said with a shrug as she looked back at all the weapons the man had, everything seemed to be on some kind of stick, had to be pole arm stuff. "What about you guys? Gonna give it a try?" She questions as she turned back around.
Badger: The cuss you are. Mr. Fox: The cuss am I? Are you cussing with me? Badger: No, you cussing with me? Mr. Fox: Don't cussing point at me! Badger: If you're gonna cuss with somebody, you're not gonna cuss with me, you little cuss! Mr. Fox: You're not gonna cuss with me! -Fantastic Mr.Fox (2009)
Post by Edgar Anapello on Aug 15, 2016 19:23:39 GMT
Everything had been going so wonderfully so far. Edgar and Aida were walking around happily, people waved at them as they passed, Edgar was actually able to forget that he wasn’t wearing black for the briefest of moments. It was peaceful, nice even. But then, Aida darted off to meet with some people. As Edgar followed after, a slight frown on his face, his eyebrows rose as he saw someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.
A short conversation took off after that as Edgar nodded to each person in turn. The man with pointy hair was the only new person in the group, so Edgar focused his attention on that man, trying to size him up in the situation. Aida had nearly tripped on his title, an odd sort of fact, but Edgar didn’t worry on it just yet. “Nice to see you again as well, Edelweiss, it’s been a while. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, mister Lupen. But I am confused, my lady here doesn’t go by the name of Sayvahn,” he began, a condescending smile on his face. “Her name is Aida. And yes, these garments come from Masaa itself and had a price tag to match the fact.” He chuckled lightly, because surely price was trivial for the guild leader. And the other man, well, with a shirt like that maybe he wouldn’t understand. But, that was his loss.
“How did you both meet Aida? I’m afraid she’s never mentioned you. Well, I know she was working for you, Edelweiss, but I didn’t know you considered each other to be friends.” His grip on Aida tightened somewhat as he continued to smile at the group. It was nice being the tallest among them, gave him a sense of power in a way. Leading the conversation was easy now. And he did want to know how Aida had come to be acquainted with these two.
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Aug 15, 2016 20:58:19 GMT
Wow. Talk about jealous clinginess. Edelweiss had met people who were clingy to their dates before, but if the most 'affectionate' or mistrustful of them reached the stage of being like bubblegum or glue in her eyes, then Edgar was like superglue for shoes (the yellow one that sticks everything everywhere).
The redhead woman looked at Sayvahn wondering if Edgar was never told him what he/she was called besides 'Aida'. "We first met at Castamere, but barely - not much time for socializing due to the circunstances. After that we kept meeting due to a mix of a series of coincidences and common acquaintances." Acquaintances like Lasair - actually, Lasair was the main reason she and Sayvahn ever met, if she is being honest with it. Then her gaze wandered back to glance at the redhead man in question with a concerned look. The mood here was strained, and that couldn't really be good. "Aida is her stage name, and 'Sayvahn' simply the name that came before that, but it still refers to the same person anyway. Doesn't matter what she's called (as long as it's not demeaning), right?"
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 15, 2016 22:41:08 GMT
Lasair watched the man skeptically, doing his best not to be bothered by his higher height. The man was interesting, especially with his posture and interactions. So he didn’t want to call Sayvahn by his (or her) name? Well tough. Sayvahn had told Lasair to refer to him as such so unless that changes, Lasair didn’t see a reason to conform. Unless Sayvahn himself asked to have a change begin.
Edgar would be irked. But well, he needed to be put in his place. “Right you are Edel. And I’ve known Sayvahn for a while,” Lasair began in a calm tone. He rolled his shoulders as he said the next part, seemingly relaxing himself. “I met him at a bar actually. Not a special place, but it was alright. Good music, nice atmosphere. Funny thing actually, someone spilt their drink on Sayvahn and I happened to have a cloth to help clean it up. We got talking after that and have been good friends since then.” He lied effortlessly. Not a skill he was proud of, but one he had nonetheless. He knew where his tells were and how to cover them. The question now was how Sayvahn would react to the story and whether or not he could pick it and go forward.
People hustled back and forth, pushing and pressing as if to make anyone weak enough surrender to its current. Wern would have been one of those to surrender and be dragged off, but Alisa and Polinya anchored him down. Or well, Alisa did. Polinya was pulling him away. “WERNI, WERNI, THEY HAVE FISH OVER HERE. FISHIES!” The child squealed, and Wern laughed, his hand, still firmly on hers, preventing her from running off into the crowd. “Y-yes Poli. There are a lot of fish there, b-but we need to stay here. With momma.”
There was a lot of everything and everyone everywhere, to be exact. When Wern had moved to Lodan, the larger man had never expected something on such a grandeur scale to occur, but well, the grandest thing that happened in his hometown was the harvest festivals so his frame of reference was limited, he would admit. Yet, even Alisa, as she clung to his arm, face, held in a smiling grace, seemed impressed by the arrangement, so, maybe it wasn’t just him who was amazed by it all. “D-do you like this sort of thing?” He asked her, and the headscarfed woman turned to him, the smile never fading as she nodded, head, coming to rest against his shoulder. The action normally would have made him shrink away, but, her presence, it was light upon him. Like water. “I do. But, I mainly like that Polinya is enjoying herself so much. It’s nice to hear her laughing again.” “I-indeed.” Ever since the councilmen had retired, Wern found himself able to spend more time with both Alisa and Polinya, the sound of the child laughing, becoming a norm as opposed to rarity. Money was slowly trickling in again, and Alisa found some time to take off as well. Everything seemed to be reaching a happy place. Even the lifting of the curfew spelled some happiness for the group, in which they could take trips farther into the country, where the stars could shimmer brightly, and magic would not be seen as so unsightly. “I-Indeed. It’s… nice to just be happy.” The tinkerer hummed, leaning his head against hers as they walked, Polinya, still pulling along until at last, the group reached a circle, or well, were redirected into a circle.
“Announcing a tournament for the masses! “ The lead figure called, and Wern winced at the offer. A fight? Really? Was that best? There was so much fighting going on already, and to have one in the middle of a festival, even in jest, seemed rather….neglectful. The larger man was going to lead Polinya away, yet, the girl’s eyes twinkled with a look that Wern had grown too familiar with. “Werni. You should fight him.” “P-polinya?” “You should fight him and win the thing! Win the thing Werni, win the thing!” The girl chanted, jumping up and down, wrenching his arm back and forth. “Imagine what you could do with that fork, Werni! You could eat a giant cake with it. A GIANT. CAKE!” The headscarfed girl chimed, and Wern awkwardly laughed. “No, Poli, I can’t, that’s a trident anyway—“ “Werni—“ “it’s not meant for eating, especially a cake-“ “WERNIIIIIII.” Again, Polinya whined, and wincing, the mechanic turned to Alisa for advice. The woman chuckled some, picking up her daughter as she hummed. “Polinya, you know that Wern doesn’t like violence.” “But mamaaaaa. Wernpi is so big. He has to win!” Wern flinched at that, and Alisa looked to him apologetically. “He’s big so you can hug him. Not have him fight.” Rocking her child back and forth, the headscarfed woman mouthed “I’m sorry” and Wern winced once again. W-was that really all that anyone ever saw of him? Someone to hug? H-he was a man, after all. But, no one ever treated him like one. He could fight, if the tinkerer wanted to. Though, when did he ever want to?
“N-no. She’s right.” Werns spoke up, eyes, flickering between Alisa and the ringleader. “I-I mean, what’s the harm in trying?” He laughed, and Polinya squealed, nearly falling out of her mother’s grasp. “B-but Wern, you don’t have to.” The older woman stated, and Wern met her eyes, a smile, coming to his own as he stepped forward, taking her hand in his. “But… i want to.”
Except he didn’t want to. Not entirely. But, he had to. If just to prove himself to Alisa, to Polinya, to anyone else that questioned him that he could. Yet a woman called out first, but she wasn’t decisive. She said maybe. He knew that he wanted to. “I-I’ll fight you! Or, I’ll try.” The larger man stated, chin, held high as he stepped forward, and in the background, Polinya could be heard chanting, “Go Werni Go! You can do it! I believe in you!” But belief would get him nowhere. Stepping forward more, the larger mechanic placed his hands on his hips and stood tall. “I’ll best you, good sir! F-for the golden trophy. F-for my daughter. ” And with that, Polinya squealed even more, calling out, “Go Daddy go!”
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
As he made his way around the crowd, Amon caught glimpses of other interested onlookers, including Zona and Cait. And although he was surprised at seeing Skye just willingly out in the open ("...Your funeral man..."), it wasn't until he was almost clear of the crowd did he hear a stuttering, yet familiar voice ring through the air.
"WERN, WHAT THE LITERAL FARCE MAN?!" he practically screamed in his head as he quickly turned towards the crowd, only to quickly turn back and continue on his way. Sure, he was glad that his second-in-command was starting to become more daring...on the other...
"Again, not my problem..." he thought. Well, if nothing else, might as well check out the Anderswelter corner first; might as well enjoy something while he was here...plus there was the possibility of meeting up with Edel along the way...
"I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible! And when I leave, you will finally understand why storms are named after people!" - Taryn, Nerf This
Eryn stepped out onto the street as she looked at all the action and the amazement of the festival , she was curious of all the things on sale from different foods to all different sorts of items that seem to look like tools and miscellaneous items should never thoughts the world had so many places in the world , she was so used to Lodan and her old home . As Eryn continued to look she saw a clothes seller and desicded to take a look.
skills:
Telekinesis I & II, Aeromancy I, Cryomancy I, Pyromancy I, Gating I, Health I, Kinetics I-III, Toxins I, KF I-III, SF I & II, UC I, TW I
Post by Veronika Tallent on Aug 16, 2016 23:41:46 GMT
Veronika swallowed and shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't have much experience in fighting. I think I'll sit this out, and maybe just watch the event, or go find some other things to look at." She knew she must be the weak girl of the group. She'd always been rather girly. A blush tinted her cheeks, making her face even redder than it had been with just rouge. She couldn't help feel embarrassed. She also hoped she wasn't appearing rude by declining, but battle just was not Veronika's thing.
Post by Maeve Blodeuwedd on Aug 17, 2016 7:13:39 GMT
Maeve was genuinely torn. To keep following sissi, or to get involved in this very -very- lucrative competition that was just screaming her name? She hesitated, and someone else stepped up to the ring. She sighed. Next round maybe? She split her attention between the two goals, and wished again that perhaps one of the Ddonya boys would show up and watch over Clair so Mae wouldn't have to.
Shrugging a little in embarrassment, Gladys wasn’t quite sure how to receive the kindness were showing her. “I uh, well I haven’t gotten to experience much so far. But the help would be appreciated, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” She stuttered a bit with her words, face blushing as she did so. In the span of two minutes, two people had showed her more kindness than all but two people in the EIRAL had. It was funny, really. The guard had no idea that kindness like this even existed anymore. It was so hard to remember that the real world existed outside the ranks after all.
Before she could really say or do anything more, Jovena herself reappeared, which caused a whole new blush to form on her cheeks. “Friends?” she squeaked, feeling herself grow smaller despite the fact she was the tallest among them. Oh how she hated being a tall woman at times. “I, um, just met them. Fell over her, and um, she saw,” she gestured to Veronika and Zona in turn. “This is the friend I was just looking for. Guess she uh, found us,” she turned to explain to the other two girls, eyes falling to the ground.
Just then, as if to save Gladys from any further embarrassment, the announcement was made throughout the plaza and it called for people to fight, to battle. “Would any of you be interested in that?” she asked, hoping to draw the attention away from herself.
"Well I guess our job here is done then." Zona said with a smile as she looked over to the the new person who just approached. Zona paused for a moment as she looked at the dark haired woman, she seemed familiar, though Zona couldn't put a finger on it... "It's nice to meet ya. The name is Zona by the way." She added with a smile. Just then an announcement was made, turning a bit Zona listened in for a moment to hear what was going on before turning back to the group. The short haired blond then asked if anyone wanted to do that. "Ehh, seems interestin' I might give it a go, though I've never worked with anythin' like that before." Zona said with a shrug as she looked back at all the weapons the man had, everything seemed to be on some kind of stick, had to be pole arm stuff. "What about you guys? Gonna give it a try?" She questions as she turned back around.
Veronika swallowed and shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't have much experience in fighting. I think I'll sit this out, and maybe just watch the event, or go find some other things to look at." She knew she must be the weak girl of the group. She'd always been rather girly. A blush tinted her cheeks, making her face even redder than it had been with just rouge. She couldn't help feel embarrassed. She also hoped she wasn't appearing rude by declining, but battle just was not Veronika's thing.
Jovena blinked, momentarily confused. They weren't... friends? Oh they just met! Well that made so much more sense
Jovena felt the awkwardness and was just about to invite them all over for smoothies at the West Indies part of the plaza when the annoucement was made. That seized everyone's attention, at least for a moment. Gladys sounded curious but unsure, Veronika was definitely repulsed (as any classy woman would be surely in this day and age) but Zona sounded as eager as Jovena felt. She was a soldier after all (Jovey, who knew what the blue haired woman's occupation was).
"Perhaps an even split?" She suggested, while motioning for her and Zona to stick together and for the other two to pair up. "We break up into pairs and then regroup in an hour or so?" That way the fighters could - well - fight, and the more peaceful pair could explore the grounds. If everyone was in accord?
Rava was playing game, not just any game , she was playing a little sneaky game as she followed Mulven as she giggled to herself , after seeing him frustration she decided enough was enough as she hugged him from behind "hey there~ sorry I was seeing if you would tried to look behind you~ " she teased him as she smiled , she was wearing a traditional Ca’alla Dress , decorated with silk and leather and embodied. the dress was cut at the sides to show her legs and showed her neck and shoulders, her hair was down and her eye was covered with an eye patch of the same kind. "come on , your can't be mad at me for some games and fun~"
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Aug 18, 2016 16:46:22 GMT
"Dis is still NUB a good idear..." Thrakazog declared, as he stood in the middle of a large circle, holding a blunted glaive in both hands, though to be fair, it looked a lot less like a polearm in his meaty fists and more like a rake or hoe. The seven foot weapon was only six inches taller than he, and weighed far, far less. Still, in some ways, it was far more menacing than its wielder.
He came to be there in a round-about-sort-of-way. First, Caitlina nd Faolan had taken him to find boots. Fortunately, that wasn't nearly as hard as one might think, because despite his size, Thrakazog wasn't the type to wear any kind of fancy footwear. The most likely place for him to find boots, therefore, was in the largest bulk section. And while they only had a couple of pairs in his size, at least they didn't have to be custom fitted for him. Thrakazog never saw if money exchanged hands, but he found himself stomping the ground in his new, roll-top boots, making sure they fit him well. They did. He followed after Caitlin with a waterfall of thank-yous and the like, completely forgetting that she intended to see him compete in some sparring contest.
Of course, when they got to the area - a large circle filled with relatively soft dirt, and surrounded by a few racks of differing polearms as well as a horde of excited onlookers - Caitlin stated that no further thanks were necessary, IF Thrakazog got in there and showed the people what one of her 'boys' could do. Thrakazog had frozen in mid-stride, and declared, "Dis is NUB a good idear."
His Captain wouldn't hear it though, and with her Commander along, she insisted on it. Thrakazog was in trouble. First off, he couldn't tell her 'no', because he owed her so much, and adored her. Second, he feared her - not because she'd ever done anything mean to him, but because she was the 'Queen of Rogues', and every sailor on the seas knew some tall tale or another about how terrifying the fictional version of Caitlin could be. Third, she had a way of smiling and asking for something that could likely get any red-blooded man, and most women too - to do what she wanted.
And that's how Thrakazog found himself in this predicament.
To his credit, or more accurately thanks to Faolan's helpful tips, he was indeed showing the 'pointy end' of the glaive to his opponent. But he hardly knew how to use one, and had only beaten his last opponent because they too had no idea what they were doing, and were simply participating in the event as one would an ax-throwing contest, or a chicken-eating one. Thinking about that, Thrak decided he'd fare far better in the chicken-eating contest.
He'd won the mock-battle because he was simply so large. Between his arm length and the glaive, he had managed to hold his first opponent off until they got tired of trying to get within his reach. They turned to the gathered crowd, shrugged their shoulders, and Thrak (at some prodding from Caitlin) had leaned in and smacked the fellow on his arse with the flat of the glaive. The crowd roared with amused laughter, as the embarrassed man yelped and leaped into the air. The referee called the bout in Thrak's favor, and Thrak shook hands with the man in good sportsmanship and spirit.
But winning by luck and having any skill with a polearm were two very different things, and even though Thrakazog tried to wave off a second bout, the referee and crowd only cheered him on. The ref stated, "You're in this lad, until you get trounced! It's 'King of the Mountain', aye?"
Thrakazog's shoulders slumped. He certainly knew 'king of the mountain'. He'd gone to the Queen's masquerade ball as the spirit of the Mountain King, and nearly every child of Lodan had played it at some point or another. A group of children would try to climb a hill, and the supposedly strongest one at the top had the task of keeping the other kids from getting there. Fist fighting wasn't encouraged, but pushing, falling, rolling back down the hill and such were common. Thrak probably didn't have to worry, because anybody with a lick of talent or skill at fighting would surely oust him from his coveted spot. But it looked like - much to the crowd's joy and Caitlin's amusement - that he was going to have to fight another round.
The referee had called out to the crowd, "SO! Who's going to step up and try to knock down -" He turned to Thrakazog and lowered his voice for a moment, "What's your name, big fella?"
"Ummm..." Thrakazog answered with his usual eloquence. "Youz can call me Thrakazog."
The ref's eyes lit up in delighted amusement, and he turned back to the crowd, shouting loud once more, "OHO! I had no idea we had such a terrifying individual among us! Behold! The Serpent of the Seven Seas! The Denizen of the Deep! The Brother of the Kraken, and the Swallower of Ships! I give you... THRAKAZOG!"
Oohs and Aahs came from some people in the crowd, while others exchanged coin in small bets. Some people recognized that the big man had shown no particular skill in his first fight, and others had heard of the legendary sea monster, and assumed that based on his size, Thrakazog was a strong contender. Iin short, they were amused... for the moment. But how would that pan out if Thrak got his butt handed to him by a ten-year-old?
So Thrakazog stood there, made his declaration, "Dis is still NUB a good idear..." and watched his opponent carefully.
Compliments sent Aida’s heart fluttering, and the feline laughed gingerly as Edelweiss comforted her some, even offering to help the dancer with her nails. “Yes. And t-that would be lovely.” Aida confessed, bowing her head some, though, she had to admit, she was a bit surprised that Edgar and Edelweiss knew each other. Though, perhaps not as surprised as she found that Lasair wasn’t. A-after all. The younger velvet hadn’t known about Sayvahn, or well, about Aida. And well, the redhead was doing fairly well, and that, that made her feel… happy. And then, another compliment, but this one, this one sent her into a blush. Although it was directed to both of them, Aida found herself wondering if it was. Lasair’s lips said one thing, but his eyes, she found his cerulean pools upon her, and she, she swam in them.
Yet, if Lasair made her seem like she was floating on water, Edgar pulled her under. The words, often so crisp yet warm, were chilled, like stone. “E-edgar.” She squeaked, yet her voice was shushed by a tightening hand on her arm. Confusion leaked from the dancer as her eyes darted between the limb and Edgar’s eyes, hoping to find an answer in them, but the members only promised silence. Was he… telling her to be quiet, to be idle? The woman’s frown deepened. Her name wasn’t Aida— but it was, but, she was also Sayvahn. To ignore one was to be rude to the other. To deny that one existed, was well— A social norm. Just, with Edgar, it was reversed. Instead of denying her female half, the barber refuted her masculine one. I-it was strange, and had been expected from the taller man months ago, but, well— not like this. Sayvahn had believed Edgar was fine with it. And the barber was— at the expense of Sayvahn.
As Edgar talked, Aida’s expression became more and more worn. The awkward smile slipped into a frown, even though she tried to save face. After all. This was the man she was in love with…. Right? “I-I told you I would pay you back.” The woman muttered, her own fingers digging into his arm, as if to remind him that she wasn’t some sort of…. What? dollymop? The thought sickened the feline.
Though, gratefulness crossed the older woman’s face as her Crimson Angel described something that she herself was finding hard to put into words. But, Aida was more than a stage name— that was true, but, there was comfort in both. Aida, for one half of her life, and Sayvahn, for the other.
Weaving a tale, Aida wondered why Lasair found the need to lie, only to remember that their first meeting was meant to be a secret. After all, they had not started as friends, but business associates. An “Oh” crossed the feline’s lips as she laughed awkwardly once more. “Yes. I have to say it’s not the most elegant way a man has fallen into my lap but I’ll take it.” Shoot. That was probably a horrible choice of words, yet, the older woman couldn't retract them. Not as she smiled upon Lasair, praying that the taller man would not read into her words.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Maeve Blodeuwedd on Aug 19, 2016 21:33:10 GMT
Turns out little sister didn't have any intention on joining the fight, just watching it. After the first go-round Maeve felt the itch to get involved herself. Apparently there was a line, Some fellow named Wern stood at the registration desk while another fellow with the -nickname?- Thrakazog (couldn't be his real name could it?) won the first fight; though she'd hardly call it a fight. Maeve smiled a big toothy grin at the bigger man and rushed to the registration desk, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Merchanic. "'ello loves," She greeted, eager for her chance to play. "Will yeh be goin next doll?" She asked the man beside her.