Octavious M!

The Great Aethin Fairgrounds

The bus bounced briskly over the hill. The day was small but bright and waiting. A small gray and white Mouse with a tattered felt hat and green corduroy jacket sat on a seat towards the back, enjoying a coffee magazine on the commute to the market. He had travelled here on ship, to the city of Aethin, where roads were paved to a shine and a merchant's stall sat on every corner. Every Aethinian had something to sell, to offer, and those who didn't reside in the city of white gold travelled there from every corner of the stratosphere for those wares and services you could only find behind the border of the infamous orange gate housing the landscape, flat in landscape but scaling high in development, apartments packed towards the back like cans of fish while the pear of the oyster, the Fantastic Aethin Fairgrounds, hosted tables and covers as far as the eye could see, rows on rows marked out like a microchip the townsfolk of ones and zeros could direct through with ease. For the foreigner, as most in the marketplace were, one was provided with guides, or, as our friend prefers, you could simply wander in and let any specific shop find you. Things tended to go the latter for most guests inexplicably, but it was also undoubtedly good for business that your customers should always find you when they need, no matter the cost to get there. In Roucks, Mouses hometown, the tram rides come with quarter coffee machines at the back and red leather padded seats. The uncomfortable wood and metal of these sleek town buses were not a place where one would nap and find pleasant dreams, but missing a morning coffee can lead to any perceivable outcome, mouse realized, and the magazine slipped from his paws. He soon was in a weary slumber, unmanned ears still scanning for the final ding of the bell from the driver, signifying the arrival at the Fairground entrance.