Avaarah
Citizen
Tsingani & Common thief
Watch your purse and your rooftops
Posts: 11
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Post by Avaarah on Aug 25, 2011 14:36:44 GMT -5
Damn guards!
I'd fallen on my backside for the third time tonight and my ass was starting to protest this little endeavor.
Everytime I tried to poke my head up one of theose stupid guards would pass, and I couldn't seem to get by and up the wall.
Ever since the queen died, there have been guards everywhere, making it harder to steal what we street runners needed. Not that that was what I was doing right now, exactly.
I wanted to get to the house. I wanted to hear the music and see the adepts. I wanted...
I sighed in frustration, as yet another guard passed by on the other side of the wall, making me duck my head again. My fingers were growing tired with me hanging there, and someone could come by at any moment and spot me.
Luckily it was night time and there weren't muck folk around. I was supposed to go by the Spider's place to see if he had any new work. But, my dreams were keeping me up again and I knew, I just knew that if I could let my mind go to the sound of a violin or hear one of the adepts singing I might be able to sleep tonight.
I gripped the outer edge of the wall tighter with my right hand, and with my left I wiped away the sweat that ran down my nose and stung my eyes.
But I hadn't gripped hard enough. Before I could gain purchase my fingers slipped and I found myself falling... again.
Damn guards!
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Post by Bayard Roux nó Eglantine on Aug 25, 2011 22:36:07 GMT -5
The deeper into hot summer it got the less and less inclined I was to stay within the walls of the House unless I had reason to be. Maybe it was growing up as a Doorstep wretch for awhile that made me crave breezes and open air when it got so warm, but dammit, it made the most sense! True that the thick walls of Eglantine kept us cool and we had the luxuries of ice and chilled food and drink, but there were always the Dowayne and Second looking over you and as generally fantastic as they are I don't like being penned up unless it's in perfect luxury. If I lay on my silk pillows right now anyway I'd stick to them and that would just be annoying.
Besides, the tumbling gym was in use and I didn't feel as much like showing off for today. Maybe I'd sneak down to the Doorstep again and look for a drink, or for Essie. She'd be doing alright of course, the pigeon always did, but I felt a bit responsible for her. I had ever since that time we'd sat on the rooftop of one of the Doorstep inns and had a bottle of wine, and I'd taught her to dance, and the night after that had only deepened that sense of protective rightness. She'd been through too much to never have anyone else to help her.
Not that I'd say that to her. She'd get indignant perhaps and remind me that she was the one still living the Doorstep life while I had my luxuries. And she'd be right, so I'd just keep it to myself.
As I walked along the garden walls I mostly ignored the flowers- foliage wasn't really my favorite topic- I brushed my hands back through my short red hair to bring the sweat-soaked curls away from my face and thought about other things. That's what I'd do, at least until things quieted down enough for me to get out of here.
A sound from near the wall caught my attention and I turned toward it just in time to see a figure with blonde hair pop up over it and then drop back down. Was that...? Glancing at the guard I gave them a wave and a cherubic smile as they moved on their way and I started over. There was only one way to know, and with a smooth motion I climbed up onto the wall and sat on the edge, my grin turning a bit more rakish as I looked down at the girl. She was about the right height, right colored hair, it was too dark to tell her eyes- and what kind of chance it was a coincidence? "Psst, pigeon," I murmured quietly as I waited for her to look up at me.
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Avaarah
Citizen
Tsingani & Common thief
Watch your purse and your rooftops
Posts: 11
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Post by Avaarah on Aug 25, 2011 23:21:39 GMT -5
Pigeon...? My heart nearly jumped into my throat as I realized I'd been caught. But then I looked up to see a flash of red hair and some legs dangling over the wall. I didn't think the guards would respond in such a fashion.
Quickly, I pulled my dress over my knees and sat up, brushing sweat damp hair out of my face and scowling up at the figure who would give away my position. My butt hurt, as did my back, and my fingers and palms were bleeding. I was in a mood.
"Go away!" I whispered harshly flinging my arm out at him. I felt something moving beneath my other hand and I squeaked, jumping up and out of the way of... whatever it was. The whole damn mission was a bust now!
I wiped the grass from my dress and then rubbed my ass to alleviate some of the pain. What on Elua's green earth was this idiot doing out here in the middle of the night? I peered up at him, but in the dark it was hard to make out precise details.
He seemed... lithe. No, that wasn't the word. But he was grinning at me like a pretty fool.
"Who are you?" I whispered and hoped his sitting on the wall wouldn't attract too much attention.
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Post by Bayard Roux nó Eglantine on Aug 26, 2011 16:45:24 GMT -5
It only took a moment of closer inspection and hearing this girl's voice to know she wasn't the one I'd thought to see and I repressed a moment of shock and a sigh to go with it at the realization. Damn. I'd really been hoping for Essie I realized, but that didn't matter right now. Essie was still somewhere on the Doorstep, hopefully safe and out of trouble with whoever she'd pickpocketed recently, and maybe she was even making the money to live comfortably. Besides, I was an adept, and she was pretty under all of that dirt and her raw palms. The least I could do was be charming.
Even if she was being really abrupt. Maybe I should have let the guards deal with her.
"Nah, I think I'll stay here for a few," I replied in a nonchalant tone that belied the flashing in my violet eyes as I looked along the wall and the street beyond it as though taking in the scenery. At this hour there wasn't many people likely to be out, especially with the war taking so many nobles from the City and cutting our patronage, but you never could tell. Besides, we were close enough to the Doorstep that ragamuffins coming to ogle at the opulence weren't so rare as that. Thus why there were guards in the first place; we had money, and people would want it. "It's where I live so I think I'm allowed."
Then she was brushing herself off and I saw some grace in her movements, and the dark smear of blood she spread from her palms. She'd been at this whole 'climb the wall' tactic for awhile then, and with little success. Maybe she just wasn't used to it and that's why she hadn't built any callouses up. "Well, since it's my home I guess I should introduce myself first," I replied cheekily. "Bayard's my name, you can probably guess the ending. What's a delicate little thing like you doing on a dark street like this?"
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Avaarah
Citizen
Tsingani & Common thief
Watch your purse and your rooftops
Posts: 11
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Post by Avaarah on Aug 29, 2011 16:18:42 GMT -5
Delicate? My irritation flared as I watched him sit there all smug like. Of course he lived in Eglantine! The arrogance in his voice indicated that he assumed he was better than I. And the ease and grace in which he used to climb the wall suggested that he'd had some practice in climbing, maybe one of those tumblers I'd seen before.
Bayard, he said his name was. I fought mentally over whether I should push Bayard off the wall to see if he truly was a tumbler (rather he'd crack his head open, making that red hair of his a deeper shade), or if I should give him my name. He was after all, Eglantine. He might be able to help me get some new music.
I hate arrogance, and this boy stank of it. Instinctively I used my gift to peek into his past. I found the source of his arrogance and pride. He'd earned his place at Eglantine. But he was a pickpocket underneath the layers that were his years as an adept there.
I looked down at my dress, blood and dirt stained and lightly used my hand to dust it some as I spoke. "Bayard, huh... You've come a long way from the streets, Bayard." I looked up at him, still squinting to see his face in the shadows.
"But it is from the streets with which you came, so stop looking down at me so!' I stomped a foot and then mentally slapped myself for doing so. I hate being called delicate or dainty or small. Men who thought women were delicate were supposed to protect them or something right? If I was so delicate why the hell had no one come to protect me? I was tough and smart and not some froo froo girl in a pale pink dress who cried when her puppy died. I knew I shouldn't take it out on this Bayard boy. But his smile... it was just so damn smug!
I crossed my arms and glared up into the shadows where all I could see was that smile and waited.
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Post by Bayard Roux nó Eglantine on Sept 2, 2011 17:12:37 GMT -5
Her reaction was a defensive one, but I was a little more surprised that she'd gotten some hint of my origins. Well, the nobles who didn't know better said the stink of the streets never left those who started there- but then again how many of them had become very satisfied patrons, never the wiser. Maybe some of my accent had slipped in, or still stuck around in some subtle way, or maybe she knew about my family. Could be that she was a lover of one of my brothers or sisters, or worked with their groups of street thieves and whores.
With the way she was talking she probably would have been a little more angered had I asked that though.
"Aye, I did start as low as the street, and look where I am now," I said with a completely jesting seated bow, my accent coming even more thickly into my tone. "Resting in gutters like any other rat or pigeon and scraping by the same way until luck and some cleverness served me better. But at least most of the time there people would return an introduction. Or are you so baffled by me that you're having a hard time remembering?" There was nothing but teasing in my tone, and I never considered myself among others, but no matter what I said she'd likely take it wrongly and I wasn't ever the kind to pat someone on the head for an imagined slight. What good was a thin skin in that sort of life?
"So really, if I wanted to look down on you, like as not I'd think of a better way to do it." I'd be damned if I let her take my own hard work and love of my art from me just because she knew my history. It didn't make her worse than me that she had a different history, but it didn't make me more guilty than her for have made a lucky break either. Especially not when I backed it up with constant work and my own penitence.
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Avaarah
Citizen
Tsingani & Common thief
Watch your purse and your rooftops
Posts: 11
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Post by Avaarah on Sept 4, 2011 12:07:16 GMT -5
"Manners dictate that you meet someone face to face, not looking down on them. I will give you my name if you come down here where your face is not so much a shadowy smirk, Bayard." I was being stubborn. But I did not like the way he sat up there all high and mighty, like the wall was his own personal throne.
I'd seen his sort, the boys who played men, who walked along with their heads held high because they were no longer living day to day. How fine were his clothes? How soft was his skin? How clean was that blaze of hair upon his head?
These things I wished to know, more than he wanted my name. I would yank him down, I decided, if he would not come down on his own. Let him get some dirt under those perfect nails. Let him remember a time when it seemed that such dirt was stained on your skin.
I envied him, I will not lie. But I would rather loathe him outwardly for his luck. At least until he proved he was not so high and mighty as he seemed up there.
Either the guards had not noticed us (in which case they were idiots) or they had, but they just didn't care. My hands stung fiercely. I'd need to go to the Spider for some bandaging.
I should have just turned and left and forgotten this boy. But he fueled my anger. It felt too good to turn away.
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Post by Bayard Roux nó Eglantine on Sept 21, 2011 17:49:10 GMT -5
She was certainly one to talk about manners with all of her snarking and assumptions, but that was the way of the streets. People only followed what rules they needed to in order to survive and everything else was for friends or the 'rich bastards' that ended up on the Doorstep slumming to prove how very tough they were. It wasn't going to work with me though, not in the slightest. I was too used to it, and too inclined to charm her into relaxing instead.
"Me, come down there and get in trouble?" I asked in a jesting tone, my smile growing a bit wider as I leaned forward a bit, using my legs to brace me as I reached a hand down toward her so she could grab it. "Why not just come up here to my level. It's just as face to face as me coming down there and we'll get to sit at the same time. Unless you're being stubborn."
That was still a strong possibility though, and I was ready for whatever rebuttal came in. At least my tone and offer had been sincere though and her anger was of her own creation, no fault of mine. I wouldn't call for the guards, not against a girl, but that didn't mean I couldn't slip down the other side and away.
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