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</div></div><br/><br/>Being true to his Romani nature, Amadan experienced wanderlust as quickly as the changing seasons in New Orleans, but found the Big Easy to his liking. New Orleans culture, like Romani culture, wasn't static and rigid over time but remained a dynamic, constantly evolving and enriching system. The jazz and blues music blaring from the clubs on Bourbon Street and the melting pot of multiple cultures in the New Orleans metropolitan area had spoken to Amadan's soul and it was something that catered to his nomadic way of life. That factor was something that he considered to be the single most structural and defining characteristic of his Romani lifestyle.<br/><br/>Amadan was born and raised in a Romani gypsy traveller camp in Seville, Spain. His clan had deep historical traditions, an intricate and functional family structure, strict (though unique) rules on hygiene and food preparation, and their own beliefs about the human body. The values, by and large, were different from European as well as American culture. Communalism was at the center of how the society functioned, and everything was shared within the group. To outsiders, particularly Americans, his cultural mores were considered strange. Standing a few feet away from the Spaniard was an even stranger aberration. But then again, so was Amadan. Amadan sensed he was in the company of another spider, yet there were subtle differences between the two arachnids and their human husks.<br/><br/>While Drae's complexion appeared pallid and somewhat deficient of proper sunlight, Amadan had a robust appearance and could pass for any human on the street. Drae also seemed to suffer from the ultraviolet rays negative effects on his eyes, while being out in the daylight didn't faze Amadan at all. Without a doubt. Drae seemed to have a cantankerous, mercurial temper. It was enough to have a desired effect of chasing away the crowd that had gathered to listed to him play the violin in front of his shop. On the other side of the coin, Amadan was easy-going and much more conciliatory in his approach as compared to his present company.<br/><br/>Even with his startling appearance and grouchy demeanor, Amadan just flashed a smile and gave Drae a nod of his head. "You chose well. I will make for you a sign that will be the envy of this entire street!" Amadan proudly boasted.<br/><br/>The street musician and jack of all trades, pocketed the small donations he did receive from a few stragglers and packed his violin in its case. Standing up, he had all his earthly possessions in his backpack, and turned to follow Drae into the shop. He had a few odds and ends inside his backpack that would aid him with the task of designing, drawing a plan of what he would carve, and a few tools in which to get the job done correctly. Amadan was no stranger to others thinking that he was probably up to no good. As a Roma, he and his family were on the edge of marginalized society.<br/><br/>Romani gypsies faced daily segregation, forced evictions and discrimination in accessing housing and attending school. Discrimination remained a constant reality, as they were forced to live in appalling living conditions far away from services, schools and decent jobs. Worst of all at any time authorities could come in and tear asunder the place they called home, placing them in monoethnic shelters, or worse, leaving them on the streets. Amadan had sought access to social housing and benefits, and his attempts to live independently crushed by governmental criteria he could not comply with, so he came to America for better opportunities and to escape the additional burden of being a homosexual.<br/><br/>"Do you have a name, friend?" Amadan asked curiously.<br/><br/>Amadan had already introduced himself to the shop owner, because that was his habit as a human. His spider was another story entirely, and it seemed to be testing the air with its pair of forelegs, still held aloft in warning mode to let the other spider it sensed in its presence.<i>Phoneutria nigriventer </i>remained that way for a fraction of a moment longer, and when the Hex'ras did not provoke him further its forelegs eased downward until they touched the ground. It kept its distance from the Hex'ras, wary of the other but not detecting any additional threat. Amadan was even more surprised when he got an insider's view the interior of the shop, which needed some extensive repairs as well. Perhaps the man would also consider help with the chipping paint, the broken window and the decayed, termite infested trim around the window and door frames.<br/><br/>Amadan knew a lot about carpentry, and found carving wood somewhat calming. Drae's shop was full of treasures, and there were other objects of delight and interest claiming his instant attention. There were quaint twisted candlesticks in the shape of snakes cloaked in a layer of dust on the shelf. The display cases had selections of various tarot decks and other sundries. On another shelf nearby, there was a carved sandal-wood box packed tight with aromatic incense. When Amadan's eyes adjusted to the dim light, his eyes scanned the room as fast as he could, trying to take it all in. The smell of dust and old candles was overpowering, and stacks of books towered towards the ceiling, and even more old tomes covered every inch of the shabby, old shelves. From the looks of it, they’d all been sitting there for quite a while, more and more thrown haphazardly on top of each other like a game of Jenga.<br/><br/>"Perhaps you wish to have me play<i>brigaki djilia </i>later? It is a song of sorrow." Amadan suggested.<br/><br/>Of course, the last thing Amadan planned on doing was rushing the sign making task, because he wanted to make sure his work was first-rate. Amadan had never stolen a thing in his entire life, regardless the sentiment others had about him or his background Drae may have wanted him to make the sign and get lost, but it was in Amadan's best interests to stick around since he didn't have a roof over his head.<br/><br/>Amadan smiled when Drae voiced his sentiment, and Amadan responded, "Good things come to those who wait, you shall see."<br/><br/>Amadan observed him as he went in search of the ancient tool box and step stool he presented to Amadan, and he set his own belongings down in order to accept what he was offered. "I shall get to work. How long have you owned this shop? I noticed the casing on the window is broken and so is the trim. I can fix that as well. It's not like I am needed somewhere else right now. I'm sort of new to this place and still finding my footing." he admitted.<br/><br/>The shopkeeper was probably tired of hearing his mouth, so Amadan, holding the tool box and ladder turned and headed outside to remove the old. broken sign in order to make some repairs to it. The medium sized wooden sign had some insect damage on it, nothing a little sandpaper couldn't cure as he brought it back inside with a cheerful whistling noise that sounded a lot like bird song. He found an empty countertop in which to lay the wood down horizontally, and after rummaging around in the tool box, found what he was looking for. A putty knife, in which he began chipping away the loose paint in order to make way for the new design he had in mind for the shop.<br/><br/>"So, how long have you had your condition? You know the eight-legged variety?" Amadan asked, cutting to the chase. He kept working as he spoke, tuning in to hear whatever the man could provide as an answer to his more than likely, irritating questions.