Catching some eyes [Alayne]

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

There were always different ways to attract patrons and performing in various areas was a classic one. Lately I'd taken to spending more time showing off on the Doorstep but that wasn't the only place that I could show my skills, so I'd decided to head to Elua's Square. With the amount of open space available it was possible to do a little more tumbling here anyway and I'd staked out a little bit of space before watching the people for a moment. There were crowds enough, but would any of them be the sort who could pay? There was always the chance and I was getting to the point where if I didn't make my marque soon it would be a question of pride.

After doing a set or two to applause but no one deliberately trying to catch my eye I decided that a slight rest was in order and went to looking around for something cold to drink. There were various vendors here and there so it didn't take that long to find someone selling a cheap brew, which I paid for with a wink before going to a bench and sitting down. There was no telling what you could see if you watched long enough and any adept looking for patrons got pretty effective at spotting their type if they waited long enough. Maybe something good would come along.

[Alayne Lombard]

I had a day off, and it was the sort of day that one doesn't spend inside. I'd bathed and put on a clean shirt and petticoat, and I was with no ambition other than to have some fresh air and some sun.

I was sitting on one of the benches out on Elua's square with my eyes closed when the sound of some clapping attracted my attention. I squinted under the sun's unforgiving rays and noticed a crowd, and curious, made my way, waded, even, through the minglers to see what it was about.

The acrobat was handsome and gifted, and he had a manner about him full of mischief that made me smile, and so I kept on pushing my way through until I was in the first row of stragglers, and clapped happily to show my enjoyment.

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

Once my drink was done it was right back to work and I was sure to dazzle them this time, doing various tricks and performing to my heart's content with the same sure pride I always felt when I was in my element. Maybe I'd been born to the Doorstep but I'd trained myself to be something a little more than that and I knew it. My eyes always on the crowd I moved with quick grace and effortless skill, letting them see me and my nature in what I was doing and hoping to catch some interesting eyes.

One particular set caught my attention and I focused on it a bit more, though I kept to my routine as I did so. I knew her, very well, or at least better than the others in this crowd, and I gave the red-haired woman a rakish, familiar grin. "Well, there's a beautiful face I haven't seen in far too long," I called out, noticing a few differences in her and wondering exactly how they could have come about. The Julie I remembered scorned gowns and carried herself with pride, but now she dressed like a Doorstep girl and had that fierce look to her face. There was a story in all of that.

[Alayne Lombard]

The adept seemed to single out someone in the crowd, and the way he spoke, rakish and seductive like a whore, I couldn't imagine he was adressing me. I turned around, looked behind me to face a straggler who was missing quite a few teeth, then turned back to look at the red-haired youth, then the other side, and looked into a crone's empty eyes.

“Who, me, Messire?” I asked finally, because in all kindness, neither folk behind me fit the label of a beautiful face. I smiled wryly, and said, “Truth be told, you're kind to say so, but I've no coin for Mont Nuit. If I did, though, you'd be the first adept I'd contract.”

I was gently teasing – truth be, he was trying to earn his marque, and I'd never afford him in a lifetime, but that didn't mean he wasn't worthy of contracting.

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

Her answer was either a tease or very, very odd, considering that the lovely Julie and I had parted on good terms and she didn't seem the sort to forget anyone who came her way. Besides, I was just cocky enough to be sure I'd made a good impression and not the sort that a girl would want to block out, even if she had fallen on harder times. This gave me something to think about as I finished my set with a backflip and took my bows, then promised another performance for later and looked at the red-haired girl again.

Deciding that this question was one worth pursuing I ran my hands back through my hair and walked toward her, head slightly cocked in curiosity and my eyes flashing. "Yes, I meant you," I replied with a crooked grin. "You remind me of someone I knew once and haven't seen in some time, a girl named Julie. I don't forget a face and unless I'm mistaken you could be her exact image."

[Alayne Lombard]

I kept on observing the adept's show, admiring his skill and nimbleness. He was handsome and gifted, and I imagined he must have had quite the goodly amount of patrons, and was a hoot in bed. I wasn't attracted for myself, though – it was the thought of a whore looking at another, more sophisticated one, and appraising his fitness to the trade.

When he came to me, and spoke of a girl of which I was the spitting image, I blinked. “It must be the hair, I told him. Surely I'm not the only carrot-head about.” And of course I wasn't, I was talking to one, and I laughed a little, because he looked friendly enough – charming, even. “I hope the reminder is a good one, though.”

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

Did she really think I could confuse people that easily? I may have let a name slip from time to time, especially the last ones, but I didn't forget a face. That would have been unforgivable in some sense or other and just rude to boot. "Oh, it's more than the hair, though I've seen my share of redheads," I joked, smiling a bit more crookedly and giving her a significant look. "But somehow I think that when I say I knew her a little bit better than to be mistaken by that I think you'll catch my meaning. I may not be some Siovalese thinker but that only leaves a few other options, one of which is a big damn coincidence."

[Alayne Lombard]

He looked so certain. I stared at him, trying to see if I'd ever... but he was remarkable in his own way, I'd have remembered him, of course I would have. “Well, I don't think adepts ever come to the bathhouse, do they? I can't remember every single john I get, beggin' your pardon, Messire. But I'll gladly get reacquainted if you please.”

If that was the kind of acquaintance he wanted, Elua, I'd give it to him. I had no qualms about taking him back to an alley and doing the deed, so long as he paid at least a little. He didn't need to pay too much, though – his good looks were partial payment enough.

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

She seemed as confused as I was pretending not to be and I could only watch and listen to her explanation. The Bathhouse was a pretty well-known feature of the Doorstep, even to adepts, though most of them would rather have found a steady patron or another of their own type to tryst with, but I'd spent enough time sneaking out that I'd seen it a few times in passing. Her, though- could she really just be a regular whore working at the brothel?

"I've been by there a few times, but that's not where I'm thinking we met," I replied with the same crooked, impish grin, buffing my nails against my shirt as I did so. Better to get to the bottom of this. "How long have you been working there? Maybe I'll have to come by sometime and see what else has changed." Or at least I could ask Essie if she'd heard anything, though I didn't want to seem too interested. I didn't want her to get too close to that lifestyle at all.

[Alayne Lombard]

I grinned, looking almost pleased. “You well should,” I replied. “I don't think any adept has ever visited the bathhouse, so far as I know.” I shrugged, and made curious by his allegations, I tilted my head inquisitively. “And where have we met, pray tell?”

It was almost a challenge – I knew precious little of his trade, and had rarely met any adepts at all. I did wonder, though, what kind of life he led, and if the ink on their backs hurt, and what manner of relationships they held with the uppity folks in the city. In short, he seemed to me to be a curious creature, and faced with his enigma, I was interested to know more.

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

Of course she didn't realize how familiar with the Doorstep I really was, especially with the more seedy side of it, but I wasn't going to let that come out right now either, especially if she wasn't the person I remembered. "I remember meeting you in a treetop actually, or at least that's how I met the person you well resemble," I replied instead, giving her an appraising look in the hopes of catching her before she told any kind of lie. "About a year ago, give or take. But I don't think you'd have been working in the bathhouse then. Have you been there long?" I'd asked her before, but I wasn't sure if she'd avoided the question or just hadn't caught it.

[Alayne Lombard]

“All my life, sweetheart, and never on a tree top,” I replied, laughing. “Though it's a fancy tale, and one I'd have liked to live, though I can't say I ever climbed anything that wasn't a john.” I put my hands on my hips, and looked at him with fair amusement. “And what did you say your name was? If I ever was a Julie, I can't say I remember it at all!”

And I could imagine him being a good climber, with the tumbling he'd performed, and I imagined he must also be quite the lover in bed. Possibilities popped in my mind unbidden. “And I think I'd remember bedding you, if I ever did, too.”

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

So either she was lying or she wasn't Julie, because there was no way she'd been anything but a member of the peerage when I'd known her, even if she did behave differently than most girls. She'd cultivated her strength that way though, and I could respect that- but this girl was strong in a different way, all sharp edges and rough talk for all of the bodily softness she showed. "I'm Bayard, no' Eglantine of course," I replied with a flash of mirth in my eyes and an impish grin as I gave her a small bow. "I think you look very much like that girl, but I can't say that you're her at all. She was something of a different creature completely. Unique. And I think if I'd ended up at the Bathhouse you're the person I would have spotted across the room and chased after, m'lass."

[Alayne Lombard]

He said his name as if I should know, and he sounded a touch like one of my own, rather than one of them uppity floozies with ribbons on top of the hill. I shifted my hips a little, hands still on them, as if I were taunting. “So we've never met, but we should have, Bayard no Eglantine. I'm Alayne no Bathhouse, I guess, in your language.” I grinned a bit wider, he was amusing and charming, and besides, he didn't seem to think himself my better. I liked that. “Sorry to disappoint. Feel free to correct that, though, and get to know me.” With coin, if possible, I didn't add, though Elua, I wouldn't have said no, not in the least.

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

It wasn't hard to read the offer she was making and while I thought she was lovely and would have been glad enough to take her up on most circumstances I didn't have the coin on me at the moment for the going rates and anything less would have been an insult. "Aye, Alayne no' Bathhouse then," I replied with just a slight touch of my thicker Doorstep accent, sketching a rakish bow. "A pleasure to meet you on both sides, I'm sure, even with the mystery still sticking around. Are you sure you didn't get a hit on the head and forget your origins or some such?"

[Alayne Lombard]

“I've been here so long as I can remember,” I replied earnestly. I shrugged, looked a bit curious. “... what do you think I've forgotten?”

I'd been told a simple story: my mother was a servant somewhere in Namarre, she'd come to the city for work, but when she couldn't feed the both of us, she'd given me over to a whore in the bathhouse who wanted a child of her own. So long as I could remember, whores were my mothers, my sisters, my friends, my rivals – they were my world, my family, my kin. I knew nothing else.

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

"I'd hate to suggest a woman was wrong by saying what you remember isn't the case so perhaps it's better that I call all of this a miraculous coincidence," I replied with another impish grin, rubbing my hands together for a moment as I considered what could really be going on. I never claimed to be a genius and the world was a surprising place, so why couldn't two complete strangers look practically identical but have very different natures? "But the girl you resemble was sweet, a little wild and the daughter of a good family, one who could afford me anyway."

[Alayne Lombard]

I laughed, then, he was indeed very amusing. “She had good taste, too,” I replied. “Well, I'm not sweet, and I don't know how wild I am, though you might ask my johns about that. As for my family, my mother was a servant, I'm told, though I barely ever knew her, and I couldn't afford you, sadly.” I shook my head, finding the situation odd but interesting, intriguing. “Or are you spinning me a tale? You look like the gifted trickster – a fox of sorts. Wouldn't it be grand to play and tell a whore some stories, just to make her head spin, somehow?”

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

When she called me a trickster I was amused and chuckled slightly, my smile becoming a bit more crooked even as I shook my head briefly. "Oh, but talking to your johns would only make me some of your competition, pet. And I'd hate to get on the wrong side of you," I teased lightly, giving her a wink. "But I don't spin tales of this sort. My art isn't storytelling, not in the slightest, and anything past one twist of the truth and I'd likely lose track. Everything I'm telling you is the truth, including that you're quite pretty enough to catch my attention even if you didn't resemble that girl."

[Alayne Lombard]

The crowd around us had scattered, and I was still looking at him almost defiantly, hands on my hips. “Well thank you for the compliment,” I drawled. “ And you're welcome to me, if you can pay up. Can't give the goods for free, you know how it is. Though I'll reckon, you can't either, aye?” I laughed, lightly, feeling almost that it was a case of like calling to like, as if this Bayard no Eglantine was me, but male. I liked him. “Tell me all about that girl, or whatever else you like if you don't want to play. I got time to waste, today.”

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

"I think if our fees were discussed I'd end up paying you and you'd end up paying me back that with a little more," I teased lightly, not trying to be rude in the slightest. She likely saw more of her sort than I did of mine, and that was because the Bathhouse girls were affordable and fun, while we at the Night Court generally had fewer, more monied patrons. To each their own though, and considering my mother was a whore in her own right I couldn't say nay to her lifestyle. Besides, there were more than a few times I'd taken to lovers without worrying about any payment at all, simply on a whim or a need, but I was trying to be better about that. "Do our sort ever really have time to waste though? You gather your patrons one way, I gather mine another, but the work never stops."

[Alayne Lombard]

He wasn't answering my question – interesting. Maybe it was a lie after all, and I filed it away as such, that, and the decision that Bayard no Eglantine was indeed a very interesting fellow, and possibly an excellent liar. “I guess that's the case for you,” I replied, and smiled a touch smugly. “Believe it or not, whores get days off. It's not a huge deal, but it's still an advantage.”

And truth be, it was – since men came almost nightly, having time to oneself, with people not licking on your ear, fondling your breasts or trying to sneak up your skirt, oh, that was indeed a blessing at times.

[Bayard Roux nó Eglantine]

"I could see how it would be," I agreed readily enough and with a grin, more than aware how much energy I spent on each and every patron who came in my door even if the physical satisfaction never exactly met the limits of my endurance per say. Sometimes that was the way of a Servant though, to give more than you got, and of late I'd been more willing to accept that. If nothing else those times made me appreciate the sweeter ones with patrons who gave of themselves completely, even if they weren't sure what that meant. "Do you have a regular schedule then? That's only my curiosity asking, since I'm from the other side of the street, ya see." At that I let a little bit of my street brogue slip in, just as a tease.

[Alayne Lombard]

I grinned, and was amused. “Maybe I do,” I replied. There was something about the way he spoke – he drew some vowels shorter, some longer, and I could have sworn, he could have been any of the mutts from the Doorstep. Elua, he could have even one of us, if he'd not claimed himself of Eglantine.

You're not like the others, I wanted to say. It would have been an understatement, and I wasn't sure why I wanted to know. Maybe it was because if an adept could be like me... then maybe I wasn't such a waste myself.

But I got shy, suddenly, and instead, gave him a small smile.

“I should go,” I said softly. “Good by, Bayard no Eglantine.”

And with that, I slipped off, before I felt too jealous, or confused about this very strange encounter.