Sure
- Last Seen: 5 days ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 679 (0.22 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Blackfridayrule 9 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
LadyAnnaLee
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
Firmly. Grasp it.
3
likes
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Darin instructed the pair of taja to allow children through their guard, so they nodded and wordlessly waved a few children, who had stopped short when the pair had initially moved to touch their weapons, to come forward. They mostly grinned, though a few were a little shy and bashful, and would skitter away after they'd proffered their tokens to Darin. Most of the children were poor or from a family of middling status; There was very little traditional grandeur and wealth to be found in Azurei as a whole, as desert life did not lend itself to excess. It said something of Ridahne's temperament, too. She and her people had to work very hard for a living, and most of them were a little hardened and weather-worn for the experience.
Ridahne led Darin to one of the leaning, branchless trees and gave no advice as she watched. Not only did Darin not need much advice, but the young dust-rat of the streets came out in Ridahne as she adhered to the childhood tradition of letting newcomers struggle with the trees at least once before aiding them. The elf laughed. "The darker green ones!" she called, pointing. As Darin cut one down, Ridahne spun on the ball of her bare foot and, with a flourish, caught the falling fruit with one of her knives. She intentionally dropped the blade down a little as it hit, slowing the momentum of the coconut so her blade didn't slice clean through. She pried her blade out of the green husk and after a few practiced strikes, she peeled away the fibrous outer husk. "Come down, now it is time to taste the spoils of your climb! And then I will show you how we climb them." Ridahne hacked once at the shell with her blade and twisted it, prying the two halves apart. She did this carefully so as not to spill the milky liquid inside, and distributed the water between the two halves.
This was the flavor of her childhood. This, and fish. She remembered many a hot day when she and a few other children would scale the trees and retrieve a few coconuts to pry open, drink, and then eat the flesh inside. Most visitors didn't like raw coconut--they said it required more chewing than they were willing to put up with--but most of them enjoyed it when it was used in a recipe. And coconut was used a lot in azurei cooking. It was found in curries, desserts, as a breading for some seafood, and even mixed into rice. It was enjoyed by the poor and the wealthy alike.
Ridahne led Darin to one of the leaning, branchless trees and gave no advice as she watched. Not only did Darin not need much advice, but the young dust-rat of the streets came out in Ridahne as she adhered to the childhood tradition of letting newcomers struggle with the trees at least once before aiding them. The elf laughed. "The darker green ones!" she called, pointing. As Darin cut one down, Ridahne spun on the ball of her bare foot and, with a flourish, caught the falling fruit with one of her knives. She intentionally dropped the blade down a little as it hit, slowing the momentum of the coconut so her blade didn't slice clean through. She pried her blade out of the green husk and after a few practiced strikes, she peeled away the fibrous outer husk. "Come down, now it is time to taste the spoils of your climb! And then I will show you how we climb them." Ridahne hacked once at the shell with her blade and twisted it, prying the two halves apart. She did this carefully so as not to spill the milky liquid inside, and distributed the water between the two halves.
This was the flavor of her childhood. This, and fish. She remembered many a hot day when she and a few other children would scale the trees and retrieve a few coconuts to pry open, drink, and then eat the flesh inside. Most visitors didn't like raw coconut--they said it required more chewing than they were willing to put up with--but most of them enjoyed it when it was used in a recipe. And coconut was used a lot in azurei cooking. It was found in curries, desserts, as a breading for some seafood, and even mixed into rice. It was enjoyed by the poor and the wealthy alike.
Uban might have just been tired still, or maybe he was just enjoying the moment and the wine, but he was far slower to the uptake on the sudden shift of events than everyone else. He was never as lightning fast as Wheel, or even Rohaan, who both seemed to have sharp senses and quick reflexes, but he wasn't always this slow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he resolved to actually get some good sleep after this, and before they honed in on their prey. Presently, however, he rose to his feet in a ready stance, holding his lute by the neck as if he might use it like a club. It would be a crying shame to damage it, but since that's what he had in his hands, he wouldn't think twice about splintering it into someone's face.
Blessedly, Berlin was both attentive and quick. He didn't think Berlin used his magic on the boy. Damn, he was a bold man. Kaga-met, however seemed to take the whole situation in stride and with a measure of grace. Rohaan, the little unpredictable rogue, was a powder keg, and if Kaga-met had responded poorly, Uban darkly guessed they'd be on their way to the bottom of the ocean in a half-charred ship by now. He was either a really smart man, or the crew of the Swift was desperate for help. Maybe both.
Rohaan was bristling, a tempest confined to the flesh of a man. In his eyes lay the wrath and hatred born of pain and fear, and in his blood ran the power to sink ships and sow chaos. Yet he kept that at bay for the moment. He did not immediately answer Kaga-met, and he did not accept the offered hand. Berlin, at least, never expected he would take it. The fact that the shifter was speaking to the strangers was notable enough. Instead, Rohaan put out his free hand to Berlin. "A knife, Ca-mm."
Berlin did not hesitate or question this, though he wasn't entirely sure where it would lead. He did know for a fact that if Rohaan wanted to cause damage to these people, he wouldn't do it with a knife, so he took his from his belt and handed it over hilt first. Their eyes met for a long moment.
Rohaan spoke in vokurian: "Let go of me."
Berlin inclined his head and responded in kind. "This is a precarious situation you've put us all in. And we'll have words about this later. Can I trust you, Rheoaan?"
"If I have to trust you, you have to trust me."
Berlin nodded slowly. The lad had a point. Though he had a responsibility to govern the child, he also knew trust meant nothing if it was not mutual. He let go of Rohaan's wrist.
Rohaan's eyes went back to Kaga-met, and as he stared unblinkingly at the older man, Rohaan brought the tip of the knife to the fleshy back of his hand between his thumb and forefinger, pressed the edge hard into the skin, and drew the length of the blade across it. Silver blood welled up and dripped from the cut; Rohaan held up the injured hand until a single drop fell to the deck. He spoke Vokurian once more, for he did not have the eloquence in Carisian to do his meaning justice. And anyway, it felt wrong to perform a ritual like this in any but his native tongue. Since he glanced at Berlin, the captain translated for Kaga-met. "This pact is sealed in blood. Break it, and blood will be your price." With that, Rohaan huffed and returned Berlin's knife before storming off down below in search of something to wrap his hand with. He might have promised not to eviscerate them, but he didn't have to be happy about it.
It was only after he'd found a strip of clean cloth and sat down on the floor with it that he released the adult form he'd been holding and reverted to his natural one. Vaguely, some part of him thought Hana ought to look at his cut, but he didn't feel like asking her right now. He'd go back up there eventually, mostly because he knew that's where the food would be and because he wasn't about to let any stupid stranger keep him away from his weird, adoptive family. This was HIS home, not theirs, after all. But he needed a moment before he went back into that storm. He fumbled with the bandage, but his hands were shaking. Eventually, he got up and went into the galley where Pieter was preparing the fish, unceremoniously holding out the bandage and his silver-streaked hand. "Kia'se..." Help. His voice was soft, and he didn't look Pieter in the eyes. His anger had cooled a little and he looked emotionally spent.
--
There was a tense, electric silence after Rohaan's footsteps faded down below, but these were the moments where Uban excelled. He simply sat back down and started to play his lute as though nobody had made any death threats or blood oaths. Berlin let out a pent breath, silently giving praise for Uban's unflappable good nature. "Honestly, that's the best you'll get out of him," He told Kaga-met. "Children..." he sighed, as if having to talk a kid down from eating people was a normal, relatable aspect of child-rearing. "Anyway, how long have you been tracking this scum? Do you know their number?" Berlin knew his crew was more than capable, but it heartened him to not only have allies, but ones who might be more familiar with their dangerous foe than he.
Blessedly, Berlin was both attentive and quick. He didn't think Berlin used his magic on the boy. Damn, he was a bold man. Kaga-met, however seemed to take the whole situation in stride and with a measure of grace. Rohaan, the little unpredictable rogue, was a powder keg, and if Kaga-met had responded poorly, Uban darkly guessed they'd be on their way to the bottom of the ocean in a half-charred ship by now. He was either a really smart man, or the crew of the Swift was desperate for help. Maybe both.
Rohaan was bristling, a tempest confined to the flesh of a man. In his eyes lay the wrath and hatred born of pain and fear, and in his blood ran the power to sink ships and sow chaos. Yet he kept that at bay for the moment. He did not immediately answer Kaga-met, and he did not accept the offered hand. Berlin, at least, never expected he would take it. The fact that the shifter was speaking to the strangers was notable enough. Instead, Rohaan put out his free hand to Berlin. "A knife, Ca-mm."
Berlin did not hesitate or question this, though he wasn't entirely sure where it would lead. He did know for a fact that if Rohaan wanted to cause damage to these people, he wouldn't do it with a knife, so he took his from his belt and handed it over hilt first. Their eyes met for a long moment.
Rohaan spoke in vokurian: "Let go of me."
Berlin inclined his head and responded in kind. "This is a precarious situation you've put us all in. And we'll have words about this later. Can I trust you, Rheoaan?"
"If I have to trust you, you have to trust me."
Berlin nodded slowly. The lad had a point. Though he had a responsibility to govern the child, he also knew trust meant nothing if it was not mutual. He let go of Rohaan's wrist.
Rohaan's eyes went back to Kaga-met, and as he stared unblinkingly at the older man, Rohaan brought the tip of the knife to the fleshy back of his hand between his thumb and forefinger, pressed the edge hard into the skin, and drew the length of the blade across it. Silver blood welled up and dripped from the cut; Rohaan held up the injured hand until a single drop fell to the deck. He spoke Vokurian once more, for he did not have the eloquence in Carisian to do his meaning justice. And anyway, it felt wrong to perform a ritual like this in any but his native tongue. Since he glanced at Berlin, the captain translated for Kaga-met. "This pact is sealed in blood. Break it, and blood will be your price." With that, Rohaan huffed and returned Berlin's knife before storming off down below in search of something to wrap his hand with. He might have promised not to eviscerate them, but he didn't have to be happy about it.
It was only after he'd found a strip of clean cloth and sat down on the floor with it that he released the adult form he'd been holding and reverted to his natural one. Vaguely, some part of him thought Hana ought to look at his cut, but he didn't feel like asking her right now. He'd go back up there eventually, mostly because he knew that's where the food would be and because he wasn't about to let any stupid stranger keep him away from his weird, adoptive family. This was HIS home, not theirs, after all. But he needed a moment before he went back into that storm. He fumbled with the bandage, but his hands were shaking. Eventually, he got up and went into the galley where Pieter was preparing the fish, unceremoniously holding out the bandage and his silver-streaked hand. "Kia'se..." Help. His voice was soft, and he didn't look Pieter in the eyes. His anger had cooled a little and he looked emotionally spent.
--
There was a tense, electric silence after Rohaan's footsteps faded down below, but these were the moments where Uban excelled. He simply sat back down and started to play his lute as though nobody had made any death threats or blood oaths. Berlin let out a pent breath, silently giving praise for Uban's unflappable good nature. "Honestly, that's the best you'll get out of him," He told Kaga-met. "Children..." he sighed, as if having to talk a kid down from eating people was a normal, relatable aspect of child-rearing. "Anyway, how long have you been tracking this scum? Do you know their number?" Berlin knew his crew was more than capable, but it heartened him to not only have allies, but ones who might be more familiar with their dangerous foe than he.
Rohaan shook his head. "What greater pursuit is there than fine wine and even finer liquor? Or a cool ale at the end of a long, hard day's work? Suppose I'd have to do one of those first--a long day's work, but whatever. Pedanics..." he meant 'pedantics', but he often mixed his words up when speaking his second language. Vequaniel still seemed nervous though, or uneasy, or bothered by something, but he'd pressed once and they hadn't opened up about it, so he let it go. If it was a real problem, it'd come out sooner or later, anyway.
Their use of their new accent made Rohaan remember he now needed to come up with a persona to wear until their plan for getting him into court was solidified and executed. And if they were going to be convincing, they needed similar enough features to be considered of the same people, as well as an accent to match. Of course, variations always existed in class and region, but there needed to be some commonality. It would be useful to establish what Acdani was, and he was already thinking his native Vokurian might work well. For one thing, he'd taught it to Vequaniel and Berlin when he was young, and Rohaan could just about guarantee that no scholar, however dedicated to their art, would know Vokurian. Since the humans spent all their time in the proximity of the Vokurian shapeshifters slaughtering or capturing them, they likely did not spend much time in study. These days, shifters were a rare find, as they purposely settled remote areas humans either couldn't access, like high mountain peaks, or didn't know about, like deep forests and remote, uncharted islands like the one Rohaan came from. That they had a native language at all was probably a surprise to any human.
"Acdani..." he said, shifting seamlessly back to his own shape. "Could be Vokurian, if we ever needed to speak it. Nobody would know it but us. And what's our accent like? I'm trying to sort out my character..." He tried on a few shapes in quick succession, eventually landing on a sturdy, stoic-faced male shape with dark hair and clothes that Rohaan would call gaudy and ridiculous, though for the manservant of a foreign princess, no one would find it strange to see him dressed in a tunic of his kingdom's colors, trimmed with braided silk pauldrons at the shoulders. He even tried a few voices, settling on a deep, resonant baritone with an accent that was similar to Andromeda's, though a little less refined. "How's this, my lady? Or would you prefer a handmaiden?" Rohaan, and most shifters, he explained, were quite comfortable shifting between different gendered shapes. A shape was a shape, and there seemed to be no taboo about the differences in anatomy, either. Rohaan often balked at humans' strange preoccupation with hiding nakedness.
Their use of their new accent made Rohaan remember he now needed to come up with a persona to wear until their plan for getting him into court was solidified and executed. And if they were going to be convincing, they needed similar enough features to be considered of the same people, as well as an accent to match. Of course, variations always existed in class and region, but there needed to be some commonality. It would be useful to establish what Acdani was, and he was already thinking his native Vokurian might work well. For one thing, he'd taught it to Vequaniel and Berlin when he was young, and Rohaan could just about guarantee that no scholar, however dedicated to their art, would know Vokurian. Since the humans spent all their time in the proximity of the Vokurian shapeshifters slaughtering or capturing them, they likely did not spend much time in study. These days, shifters were a rare find, as they purposely settled remote areas humans either couldn't access, like high mountain peaks, or didn't know about, like deep forests and remote, uncharted islands like the one Rohaan came from. That they had a native language at all was probably a surprise to any human.
"Acdani..." he said, shifting seamlessly back to his own shape. "Could be Vokurian, if we ever needed to speak it. Nobody would know it but us. And what's our accent like? I'm trying to sort out my character..." He tried on a few shapes in quick succession, eventually landing on a sturdy, stoic-faced male shape with dark hair and clothes that Rohaan would call gaudy and ridiculous, though for the manservant of a foreign princess, no one would find it strange to see him dressed in a tunic of his kingdom's colors, trimmed with braided silk pauldrons at the shoulders. He even tried a few voices, settling on a deep, resonant baritone with an accent that was similar to Andromeda's, though a little less refined. "How's this, my lady? Or would you prefer a handmaiden?" Rohaan, and most shifters, he explained, were quite comfortable shifting between different gendered shapes. A shape was a shape, and there seemed to be no taboo about the differences in anatomy, either. Rohaan often balked at humans' strange preoccupation with hiding nakedness.
There was an amicable silence between them for a moment, broken only by the clatter of wheels grating against the bumpy road and the creak and jingle of the horse's tackle. But then Rohaan turned, peeking through the little curtained opening of the carriage and studying his sibling with luminous eyes. "You're awful quiet...What, are you nervous, or do you not like my plan? C'mon now, you know you wanna watch them eat the floor in frustration as you all sit down for some courtly feast and the notorious Rohaan Ja'aisen sits down among them?" he howled with laughter, real genuine laughter that made his stomach hurt. "Damn I bet they got good whiskey too." Rohaan loved whiskey. He loved all sorts of libations, but whiskey was a personal favorite, second only to good strong ale and rum with a bit of lime.
"Should we practice, V?" he cleared his throat. "Sorry, Princess Andromeda." He seamlessly shifted into a near perfect copy of Lord Girard--a local baron with a portly waist and a puffy mustache. Rohaan had been casing the palace for months, sneaking about in the shape of a cat, a rat, or a bird--whichever suited the moment. He'd snooped on lords and ladies alike, learning the secret things whispered only to their handmaidens and advisers. With Vequaniel's help, they'd compiled a book of dossiers on near everyone of importance in and around the palace. He knew them all.
He combed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "My dear lady, tell me about your home country of..ah...erm...I don't know I've ever heard of it. How odd!" Rohaan was, of course, excellent at changing his appearance. But he was also a skilled actor, too, and that usually sold whatever shape he put on.
"Should we practice, V?" he cleared his throat. "Sorry, Princess Andromeda." He seamlessly shifted into a near perfect copy of Lord Girard--a local baron with a portly waist and a puffy mustache. Rohaan had been casing the palace for months, sneaking about in the shape of a cat, a rat, or a bird--whichever suited the moment. He'd snooped on lords and ladies alike, learning the secret things whispered only to their handmaidens and advisers. With Vequaniel's help, they'd compiled a book of dossiers on near everyone of importance in and around the palace. He knew them all.
He combed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "My dear lady, tell me about your home country of..ah...erm...I don't know I've ever heard of it. How odd!" Rohaan was, of course, excellent at changing his appearance. But he was also a skilled actor, too, and that usually sold whatever shape he put on.
"You mean to dispel some rumors yourself, then? Does this mean you intend to make yourself known to the public? To the Court is one thing, but the public is something else. I'm not advising you against it or anything, but I think you know how the public can be when they know you're around and who you are. If you're ready to deal with that, then by all means. I will stand by you regardless. Though...I've got a feeling people are going to start figuring it out..." Ridahne glanced towards the shore, where there seemed to be a larger than normal cluster of people. "Don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. But I do worry what the Red Hand is planning. They've been quiet."
"It's for good reason, Ajoran said. "Any of them that have shown their faces around here in Tasen...? Well, their faces are now adorning the pointy ends of some pikes. I know an eija who had to break up a fight in a tavern because he overheard a group of people accusing a suspicious man of being Red Hand. He was captured and questioned extensively, but was not found to be one of them. People are on the lookout for them here. Its the smaller towns you'll have to worry about, I think."
Ridahne nodded, thinking over that a bit as they pulled into Port. Darin was nervous, though. Ridahne only smiled at her. "You are, and you are not. You are both Ri'atal, and you are the stubborn farm girl who proved to her village a woman could run a farm near singlehandedly. And you are Darin Torzinei. You will do as you please, and say as you please. And the world can only watch. But if you want my opinion?" She smirked. "Ignore them for the moment. They will shout and approach you and clamor to meet you, but Ajoran and I will see to it they do not get too close without your leave. Ignore them, and come prove to me you are a worthy tree-climber of the coconut bearing trees." Her expression was impish and playful. "Let them watch! It will serve to demystify you a bit, which will be good, I think, when it comes to the common folk. They will know you are like them."
The ship docked, and Rheisun busied himself tying up his boat as the three of them disembarked. A couple people came forward at an excited run, but they stopped short as Ridahne and Ajoran touched their weapons in unison. They did not need to draw them. The people knew a taja--even an off-duty one--and an eija by sight and none of them were the sort to have delusions of tangling with them. The people kept their distance after that, but there were many whispers of "Astra-Sol" and "Ri'atal" from some of the older folk.
"It's for good reason, Ajoran said. "Any of them that have shown their faces around here in Tasen...? Well, their faces are now adorning the pointy ends of some pikes. I know an eija who had to break up a fight in a tavern because he overheard a group of people accusing a suspicious man of being Red Hand. He was captured and questioned extensively, but was not found to be one of them. People are on the lookout for them here. Its the smaller towns you'll have to worry about, I think."
Ridahne nodded, thinking over that a bit as they pulled into Port. Darin was nervous, though. Ridahne only smiled at her. "You are, and you are not. You are both Ri'atal, and you are the stubborn farm girl who proved to her village a woman could run a farm near singlehandedly. And you are Darin Torzinei. You will do as you please, and say as you please. And the world can only watch. But if you want my opinion?" She smirked. "Ignore them for the moment. They will shout and approach you and clamor to meet you, but Ajoran and I will see to it they do not get too close without your leave. Ignore them, and come prove to me you are a worthy tree-climber of the coconut bearing trees." Her expression was impish and playful. "Let them watch! It will serve to demystify you a bit, which will be good, I think, when it comes to the common folk. They will know you are like them."
The ship docked, and Rheisun busied himself tying up his boat as the three of them disembarked. A couple people came forward at an excited run, but they stopped short as Ridahne and Ajoran touched their weapons in unison. They did not need to draw them. The people knew a taja--even an off-duty one--and an eija by sight and none of them were the sort to have delusions of tangling with them. The people kept their distance after that, but there were many whispers of "Astra-Sol" and "Ri'atal" from some of the older folk.
Rohaan sucked his teeth, scowling a little at their words. He hated the very idea of having his eyes 'changed' in any way. One would think that a creature whose shape was so fluid and ever-changing would have no issue with just one more aspect of their appearance changing. but for the vokurian people, their distinctive eyes and blood were points of pride. So much had been taken from them, and much more was denied to them that was never theirs to begin with. But those two things belonged to them and to no other people. To hide them was to hide away the souls of his ancestors, whose blood had been spilled into the sea and the stone, never to be reclaimed. They lived on in those eyes, and their stories were written in his silver blood. He did not want to hide them. To keep them from being seen was one thing, but to lie about them outright was something else entirely.
"I don't like it. I don't want to hide. My people have always hidden, and still we have been cast away and slaughtered. If we're going to do this, and I'm going to go rub elbows with these murderers," he hissed, a sudden dark and violent edge in his tone, "then I want them to know that it's me, and what I am, and I want them to squirm as I take back what I'm owed. And I will laugh as it vexes them." Rohaan had told Vequaniel extensively of how he came to be with Berlin. He had asked no questions about their story, and it had taken him years before he plucked up the courage to tell them. And when he eventually did come out with the story, he did not spare any gritty detail of how the slavers came and raided the village, killing adults and incapacitating and stealing the children. He told of his desperate escape, how he nearly died in the bay of Telor, how he came ashore starving and alone in a land where he did not speak the language, but where people kicked him and beat him if they caught him anywhere near them or their shops. It was easy to see, then, how he'd come to be so bitter towards humans as a whole, but he had nothing but outright hate for the human-elite, who made it intentionally difficult for his people to even survive. It was hard to blame him.
"And anyway, what are you going to do, constantly alter the minds of a hundred or two people--servants and elites alike? What if you get hurt or sick or something, and you can't keep it up? What if someone comes in and sees me before you've had a chance to tamper with them? I'm too identifiable, too notorious. They'll know eventually, and it will ruin us if they find out you're capable of deceit like that. No, it needs to be real. Or at least, whatever tampering you do needs to be subtle and backed by a tangible story." He thought for a moment, scratching his short beard. "I could change my shape at first, and you could cloak my eyes until we establish you. And when you've got some clout, we'll set up some kind of con. Lets say I hire a ruffian or two to rough you up, and I, as myself, come and stop them. You could be so grateful for my heroic and selfless deeds that you insist on making me your personal guardian and advisor. Say it's the custom where you're from to honor such deeds with lofty titles. They'll all question it for sure, and they'll insist on clapping me in irons." He snorted a laugh. "I'd like to see them try...but then you sneak in and just do a little nudge in their heads, you know, to make them go with it. That way I won't be the reason you're found out, I can actually protect you in the way I do best without fear of being discovered, and I get to watch them all clutch their pearls and fume as I take a seat at court. And you know, then I won't have to pretend to know how to read, or that I can even pronounce silly human words like ah...is...ithis...ithsmas? Ith-smus? Whatever. You get my point."
"I don't like it. I don't want to hide. My people have always hidden, and still we have been cast away and slaughtered. If we're going to do this, and I'm going to go rub elbows with these murderers," he hissed, a sudden dark and violent edge in his tone, "then I want them to know that it's me, and what I am, and I want them to squirm as I take back what I'm owed. And I will laugh as it vexes them." Rohaan had told Vequaniel extensively of how he came to be with Berlin. He had asked no questions about their story, and it had taken him years before he plucked up the courage to tell them. And when he eventually did come out with the story, he did not spare any gritty detail of how the slavers came and raided the village, killing adults and incapacitating and stealing the children. He told of his desperate escape, how he nearly died in the bay of Telor, how he came ashore starving and alone in a land where he did not speak the language, but where people kicked him and beat him if they caught him anywhere near them or their shops. It was easy to see, then, how he'd come to be so bitter towards humans as a whole, but he had nothing but outright hate for the human-elite, who made it intentionally difficult for his people to even survive. It was hard to blame him.
"And anyway, what are you going to do, constantly alter the minds of a hundred or two people--servants and elites alike? What if you get hurt or sick or something, and you can't keep it up? What if someone comes in and sees me before you've had a chance to tamper with them? I'm too identifiable, too notorious. They'll know eventually, and it will ruin us if they find out you're capable of deceit like that. No, it needs to be real. Or at least, whatever tampering you do needs to be subtle and backed by a tangible story." He thought for a moment, scratching his short beard. "I could change my shape at first, and you could cloak my eyes until we establish you. And when you've got some clout, we'll set up some kind of con. Lets say I hire a ruffian or two to rough you up, and I, as myself, come and stop them. You could be so grateful for my heroic and selfless deeds that you insist on making me your personal guardian and advisor. Say it's the custom where you're from to honor such deeds with lofty titles. They'll all question it for sure, and they'll insist on clapping me in irons." He snorted a laugh. "I'd like to see them try...but then you sneak in and just do a little nudge in their heads, you know, to make them go with it. That way I won't be the reason you're found out, I can actually protect you in the way I do best without fear of being discovered, and I get to watch them all clutch their pearls and fume as I take a seat at court. And you know, then I won't have to pretend to know how to read, or that I can even pronounce silly human words like ah...is...ithis...ithsmas? Ith-smus? Whatever. You get my point."
Yay merry Christmas and happy holidays!! Hope you have a good one!
Ridahne nearly lost her composure at 'Taja Torzinei'. They'd sort of discussed how she more or less was one before, so it wasn't completely out of the blue. But to hear her called that in public was a real shock. It was to the sailors, too, who looked to Ajoran, who seemed quite obviously to be an off-duty taja anyway. But when Darin clearly addressed the tall, sharp-edged woman, their mouths opened a little. Was such a thing possible...? And then the realization dawned on them that Darin, this young human woman was the Seed Bearer of Astra, and their mouths hung open even more.
"Yes," Ridahne said after a brief hitch as she regained her composure. "This is Captain Rheisun and his first mate. He's so kindly agreed to brave the waters for us. Don't stare, and you'll fill your mouths with dust if you keep them open like that," she said to the sailors. "Step lively, sailors," she admonished, and the men jumped up and out of their stupor to get the boat ready.
It was a small vessel, and while it was a handful to manage with three people (Ridahne offered help manning the vessel) it was doable. The water was rough and turbulent, and the sailors remarked that there were currents where there ought not to be, and they swirled together in a spiraling confluence to create little whirlpools. they were too small to be treacherous, but the sailors avoided them all the same.
Darin called for a halt and the two men lowered the anchor. Out here, the waters were relatively shallow in comparison to the long, deep abyss of the open ocean.
"Now uh, Astra-Sol, what would you like us to--" Both men gasped in slight confusion as Darin leaped overboard.
Ridahne, however, was not in the least bit surprised and simply and dutifully shouted, "Man o'erboard!" as she was trained to do from a young age whenever a seaman got in the water.
The men looked at her. "Torzinei...?"
"Astra has her. She has no more reason to fear the ocean than you do on a flat, waveless day."
"Ain't you worried?"
"No. Not in the slightest." She spoke with an authority that made the men believe her. That is, until time passed, and the men knew not even Azurei free-divers could hold their breath that long.
"Torzinei...with all due respect...I think she..." they didn't even want to say it, considering who she was.
"No. She's fine, I know it. Trust me." she could sense the sailor were on edge, so she leaned against the railing and said, "So, Rheisun, what are you called?"
"Edal. Edal Rheisun. You?"
"Ridahne. This is my fiance" she said with some glee, "Taja Ajoran Teleisun-Torzinei."
"Ah, so he'll be taking your name. If I'm honest, that might have perplexed me until..." he looked over the edge toward where Darin had jumped in. To Ajoran, he said, "I suppose she's got more prestige now, considering. Quite the lofty pair you are."
"Not that lofty," Ridahne laughed. "I grew up in Atakhara. My brother's boat is the Tempest."
"Under captain Helark? Erm...that'd make him...Hadian, eh? Damn, you're Hadian's little sister?? Don't know the lad well, but I know him. Never thought..."
It got quiet among them as the subject of Ridahne's betrayal was danced around once more. The captain could not hold back his curiosity any longer. "What happened, exactly? Gotta be quite the story if you're..."
"Taja," Ajoran cut in, and Ridahne blushed sharply.
"It is quite the story..." she said softly. "The..." she tripped over the missing name, "Former Sol was more corrupt than people ever knew. I knew. I did only my job. Exceptionally well. And saved lives in the process."
"You were eija-alihn?"
"...once." Ridahne had mixed feelings about her past job. On one hand, it was supposed to be good. It was a high honor, and a testament to her skill. She was supposed to keep the people safe, and she had no doubt that many times she did. But the position had been twisted by the former Sol, and it felt ruined and tainted now.
Both sailors whistled in appreciation. The story was more complicated than they knew, after all. "Y'know, I heard some story on the wharf once. 'Bout a woman who claimed a rogue eija killed the disgraced Sol before the Sol could kill the woman. Said the rogue saved her life. Thought it was just a rumor--you know how it is. But ah...that you?"
"Aye. The Tree spoke, and I listened. I was rewarded accordingly." She let a little smile through. "Ajoran, you asked me that night if I regretted what I did. I still don't."
"Knew you'd say that." It was the same thing he'd said to her then. The two stole a quick but quite passionate kiss before remembering their present company and pulling away.
It was a long time before there was any sign of Darin, but when the sea launched her back out, Ridahne only laughed. The other three jumped at the sudden noise and movement, but she could almost...feel something would happen before it did. She couldn't have identified what, but she could feel a confluence and flex of Astra's power, and Darin's. The human landed gracefully on the deck as the wind whipped their hair about, and then stilled. The sea had a pent energy but was still. Ridahne seemed to freeze for a moment.
"That's the second time you've called me Taja Torzinei...it's not something you say if you don't mean it...do you...do you mean it? Are you giving this title to me?"
Ajoran smiled. "I think she's pretty set on it, Rhi."
Ridahne dropped to her knees. "I know you aren't one for formality, Darin, but you'll have to humor me this once. For me." With an air of ritual, she said, "If this is your will, Sol, then I accept. From this day forth, I will be Taja Torzinei until my Sol release me. This, I willingly give." Ridahne stood and wiped a few tears from her face, then added, "I'll ah...have to make a few changes to the uniform..."
Ajoran chuckled low and wickedly. "I think the current one would be great on you..."
Ridahne slapped his chest hard enough to make an audible crack. "Ajoran! We're in public..." Ridahne cleared her throat. "What more did you have in mind for today, dear sister?"
"Yes," Ridahne said after a brief hitch as she regained her composure. "This is Captain Rheisun and his first mate. He's so kindly agreed to brave the waters for us. Don't stare, and you'll fill your mouths with dust if you keep them open like that," she said to the sailors. "Step lively, sailors," she admonished, and the men jumped up and out of their stupor to get the boat ready.
It was a small vessel, and while it was a handful to manage with three people (Ridahne offered help manning the vessel) it was doable. The water was rough and turbulent, and the sailors remarked that there were currents where there ought not to be, and they swirled together in a spiraling confluence to create little whirlpools. they were too small to be treacherous, but the sailors avoided them all the same.
Darin called for a halt and the two men lowered the anchor. Out here, the waters were relatively shallow in comparison to the long, deep abyss of the open ocean.
"Now uh, Astra-Sol, what would you like us to--" Both men gasped in slight confusion as Darin leaped overboard.
Ridahne, however, was not in the least bit surprised and simply and dutifully shouted, "Man o'erboard!" as she was trained to do from a young age whenever a seaman got in the water.
The men looked at her. "Torzinei...?"
"Astra has her. She has no more reason to fear the ocean than you do on a flat, waveless day."
"Ain't you worried?"
"No. Not in the slightest." She spoke with an authority that made the men believe her. That is, until time passed, and the men knew not even Azurei free-divers could hold their breath that long.
"Torzinei...with all due respect...I think she..." they didn't even want to say it, considering who she was.
"No. She's fine, I know it. Trust me." she could sense the sailor were on edge, so she leaned against the railing and said, "So, Rheisun, what are you called?"
"Edal. Edal Rheisun. You?"
"Ridahne. This is my fiance" she said with some glee, "Taja Ajoran Teleisun-Torzinei."
"Ah, so he'll be taking your name. If I'm honest, that might have perplexed me until..." he looked over the edge toward where Darin had jumped in. To Ajoran, he said, "I suppose she's got more prestige now, considering. Quite the lofty pair you are."
"Not that lofty," Ridahne laughed. "I grew up in Atakhara. My brother's boat is the Tempest."
"Under captain Helark? Erm...that'd make him...Hadian, eh? Damn, you're Hadian's little sister?? Don't know the lad well, but I know him. Never thought..."
It got quiet among them as the subject of Ridahne's betrayal was danced around once more. The captain could not hold back his curiosity any longer. "What happened, exactly? Gotta be quite the story if you're..."
"Taja," Ajoran cut in, and Ridahne blushed sharply.
"It is quite the story..." she said softly. "The..." she tripped over the missing name, "Former Sol was more corrupt than people ever knew. I knew. I did only my job. Exceptionally well. And saved lives in the process."
"You were eija-alihn?"
"...once." Ridahne had mixed feelings about her past job. On one hand, it was supposed to be good. It was a high honor, and a testament to her skill. She was supposed to keep the people safe, and she had no doubt that many times she did. But the position had been twisted by the former Sol, and it felt ruined and tainted now.
Both sailors whistled in appreciation. The story was more complicated than they knew, after all. "Y'know, I heard some story on the wharf once. 'Bout a woman who claimed a rogue eija killed the disgraced Sol before the Sol could kill the woman. Said the rogue saved her life. Thought it was just a rumor--you know how it is. But ah...that you?"
"Aye. The Tree spoke, and I listened. I was rewarded accordingly." She let a little smile through. "Ajoran, you asked me that night if I regretted what I did. I still don't."
"Knew you'd say that." It was the same thing he'd said to her then. The two stole a quick but quite passionate kiss before remembering their present company and pulling away.
It was a long time before there was any sign of Darin, but when the sea launched her back out, Ridahne only laughed. The other three jumped at the sudden noise and movement, but she could almost...feel something would happen before it did. She couldn't have identified what, but she could feel a confluence and flex of Astra's power, and Darin's. The human landed gracefully on the deck as the wind whipped their hair about, and then stilled. The sea had a pent energy but was still. Ridahne seemed to freeze for a moment.
"That's the second time you've called me Taja Torzinei...it's not something you say if you don't mean it...do you...do you mean it? Are you giving this title to me?"
Ajoran smiled. "I think she's pretty set on it, Rhi."
Ridahne dropped to her knees. "I know you aren't one for formality, Darin, but you'll have to humor me this once. For me." With an air of ritual, she said, "If this is your will, Sol, then I accept. From this day forth, I will be Taja Torzinei until my Sol release me. This, I willingly give." Ridahne stood and wiped a few tears from her face, then added, "I'll ah...have to make a few changes to the uniform..."
Ajoran chuckled low and wickedly. "I think the current one would be great on you..."
Ridahne slapped his chest hard enough to make an audible crack. "Ajoran! We're in public..." Ridahne cleared her throat. "What more did you have in mind for today, dear sister?"
"Aint' gonna loose no tooth," he scoffed, though he put the knife away. "Vequaniel, Isfahan, we all know I wouldn't look nearly as good in a dress as you..." He gave a twirl, and mid twirl he changed his shape to a feminized version of himself with gaudy makeup and a similar looking dress to Vequaniel's. He frowned down at the fabric, which had been enchanted to change shape with him. "That's a lot of pleats to get blood out of...not sure it works for me." He chuckled and shifted back to his natural shape--blonde curls unkempt in a messy bun, and wearing dark pants and a dark vest over a loose, ashy-gray shirt.
"Blech," Rohaan said mockingly in response to their uppish affectation. It was good, and very convincing, but Rohaan never liked it. Too good, he always said. His love was for the seedy, underappreciated folk of the world, and he resented most of the upper-crust of society. They had only ever burned him. Shifters were unwelcome in society--even amongst the lowbrow folks--and the rich folks made laws that shifters could neither buy nor sell in polite society in order to keep them away. It usually worked, and the Vokurian people preferred to keep to themselves anyway. But for Rohaan, who had been separated from his people for twenty years and had been forced into human society, it left him no other choice but to pursue a life of crime. He did it with gusto. And while the rich and the powerful knew of him as a notorious villain, but the low, downtrodden, and outcast of society knew him as a champion of the neglected. Both he and Vequaniel had a heart for urchins and beggars.
He was about to get into the carriage's driver's seat when Berlin stopped him. His big hand gently caught the shifter's arm. "Rheoaan, lad." he looked him straight in the eyes; Berlin's were cool and comforting and vast as the sea. "You protect them, you hear?" Vequaniel did not often need protecting, but their abilities favored avoiding a fight rather than winning one already started. That's where Rohaan came in. He usually started fights, but he always finished them. And anyone who thought they could do harm to Vequaniel discovered all too quickly that they'd need to deal with Rohaan, first.
"Aye. I will."
"And give every last one of those rich bastards hell."
Rohaan grinned. "Aye, Ca-mm." Rohaan's native language did not have a 'p' sound, so when he first met Berlin, he heard crewmates call him 'Cap'n', and his 8 year old mind managed a very pronounced, 'Ca-mm'. It stuck.
Berlin hugged him and watched as the shifter climbed up into the driver's seat. Rohaan made sure Vequaniel was inside and flicked the reins; the animal, now less afraid of Rohaan, dutifully trotted off towards the road.
"You know, V, they're gonna know who I am. I got me a very...infamous face. And frankly? I want them to. I want them to lie awake at night wondering how Rheoaan Rohaan Rio Ja'aisen managed to make his way into court. I want them to hate it and be absolutely powerless to change it." He cackled. "Can you manage that, you think?"
"Blech," Rohaan said mockingly in response to their uppish affectation. It was good, and very convincing, but Rohaan never liked it. Too good, he always said. His love was for the seedy, underappreciated folk of the world, and he resented most of the upper-crust of society. They had only ever burned him. Shifters were unwelcome in society--even amongst the lowbrow folks--and the rich folks made laws that shifters could neither buy nor sell in polite society in order to keep them away. It usually worked, and the Vokurian people preferred to keep to themselves anyway. But for Rohaan, who had been separated from his people for twenty years and had been forced into human society, it left him no other choice but to pursue a life of crime. He did it with gusto. And while the rich and the powerful knew of him as a notorious villain, but the low, downtrodden, and outcast of society knew him as a champion of the neglected. Both he and Vequaniel had a heart for urchins and beggars.
He was about to get into the carriage's driver's seat when Berlin stopped him. His big hand gently caught the shifter's arm. "Rheoaan, lad." he looked him straight in the eyes; Berlin's were cool and comforting and vast as the sea. "You protect them, you hear?" Vequaniel did not often need protecting, but their abilities favored avoiding a fight rather than winning one already started. That's where Rohaan came in. He usually started fights, but he always finished them. And anyone who thought they could do harm to Vequaniel discovered all too quickly that they'd need to deal with Rohaan, first.
"Aye. I will."
"And give every last one of those rich bastards hell."
Rohaan grinned. "Aye, Ca-mm." Rohaan's native language did not have a 'p' sound, so when he first met Berlin, he heard crewmates call him 'Cap'n', and his 8 year old mind managed a very pronounced, 'Ca-mm'. It stuck.
Berlin hugged him and watched as the shifter climbed up into the driver's seat. Rohaan made sure Vequaniel was inside and flicked the reins; the animal, now less afraid of Rohaan, dutifully trotted off towards the road.
"You know, V, they're gonna know who I am. I got me a very...infamous face. And frankly? I want them to. I want them to lie awake at night wondering how Rheoaan Rohaan Rio Ja'aisen managed to make his way into court. I want them to hate it and be absolutely powerless to change it." He cackled. "Can you manage that, you think?"
© 2007-2024