Beneath the surface veneer of what Port Kar appears to be runs a subversive parallel countering almost every aspect of that city's pulse. Almost, it seems, within a swirling, cyclic, down-river flush of every other Vosk settlement's refuse. And delightful refuse it is, too.
I met a youthful adolescent with a pretty face late one night on the pier while watching dock hands load up the troupe's equipement. He was rather street savvy and had an arrogant cockiness about him that drew my eye. Too, I was certain that his flirtations were nothing imaginary on my part. At first, he had merely embarrassed me with them. But when the lad had finally approached and drew me into more risqué conversations, his manipulative game was wholly lost upon my own rising tide of curiousity and desire. "Port Kar," he said, "is a haven for our kind." I did not know what he meant by our kind.
For I did not readily suspect that he was kajirus. He seemed.. much too sure of his footing in the world. Moreso when he took hold of my hair and kissed me with the impassioned kiss of a Master.
There are still far more perplexing mysteries surrounding the culture of the port city, some that still continued to puzzle me even long after we had set sail across Thassa for other seafaring ports. In Port Kar, nothing is as it seems, as first impressions often lay dashed to bits beneath their subterfuge.
The youth with his pretty face.. became revealed to me as none other than a woman named Oshunai dressed in men's clothing. She was amused with herself at having conned me so easily. Yet, perhaps it is I who has the innate desire to be conned.
I met a youthful adolescent with a pretty face late one night on the pier while watching dock hands load up the troupe's equipement. He was rather street savvy and had an arrogant cockiness about him that drew my eye. Too, I was certain that his flirtations were nothing imaginary on my part. At first, he had merely embarrassed me with them. But when the lad had finally approached and drew me into more risqué conversations, his manipulative game was wholly lost upon my own rising tide of curiousity and desire. "Port Kar," he said, "is a haven for our kind." I did not know what he meant by our kind.
For I did not readily suspect that he was kajirus. He seemed.. much too sure of his footing in the world. Moreso when he took hold of my hair and kissed me with the impassioned kiss of a Master.
There are still far more perplexing mysteries surrounding the culture of the port city, some that still continued to puzzle me even long after we had set sail across Thassa for other seafaring ports. In Port Kar, nothing is as it seems, as first impressions often lay dashed to bits beneath their subterfuge.
The youth with his pretty face.. became revealed to me as none other than a woman named Oshunai dressed in men's clothing. She was amused with herself at having conned me so easily. Yet, perhaps it is I who has the innate desire to be conned.
