Completed A Dark Hallway with a New Torch (Kysanthe, Flashback)

[Vaas]

Time stamp: 50th of Spring, 509AV

Feeling the warmth of the spring sun, Vaas ventures into the road in front of the Glass Reverie using his staff to guide his way to the steps of the Glass Reverie. He finds an out of way step away from the gallery traffic, and he sets down his backpack and staff. He smiles up at the warmth of sun and takes a deep breath. He loves spring since the flowers are in bloom and their scent carries all throughout the interior of volcano. He suddenly sneezes at all the pollen in the air. He hears the Wind Eagle call to all of Wind Reach when they take off for there evening hunt. He walks down a familiar busy street hearing the Avora glass makers stream out of their workshop. He decides to show his fellow artisans what he learn today.

He sits down on the step and pulls out his metal flute from his backpack, and start cleaning the inside it with his rag while listening to the passers bye go about their business. He brings the flute to his lips and blows into just to warm it up. Satisfied with the the sound, Vaas starts playing gentle melody he learned a couple weeks go by a couple of older musicians in the Cedar Amphitheater. The music was easy enough, however, he did miss a few notes here and there. He liked this song. It was about a huntress and her wind eagle getting caught in spring storm, and they had to camp out in a cave till the storm was over. He always smiled at some of the content of Inarta music. Hunter gets lost in storm, mountain, or both. Hunter falls in love with his or her wind eagle. Who happens to be a Kelvic, so their love was not as awkward. Or his favorite, hunter has a epic battle with a pack of dire wolves naked armed with only his trusty cutting knife. He still needs to learn the music to that song, but it is a little to advanced for him right now. Plus it is drum heavy, so the flutes shouldn't even be in the piece. He continues his gentle melody surprised at out well it is going for now at least. Wishing he could experience some of things the songs were about brings a feeling of sadness to his song. The music starts to slow slightly to mimic his mood. When the song is finish, he frowns and mutters to himself: “That could have sounded much better, Vaas.”

Pulling out his water skin from his bag, Vaas takes a drink and thinks of a more upbeat song during his time as a Yasi. His other favorite Inarta children's song: “Happy Little Arrow in Flight”. This melody always makes Vaas a little light headed. He takes a deep breath and starts playing a series of quick notes that sort of sound like a arrow taking flight. The music's tone begins to sound eager to carry the arrow through the air towards it intended target. As the arrow gets closer to the target, the music quickened even faster; however, the arrow suddenly veers abruptly left and crashes into a rock as Vaas stumbles over the last set of notes. Vaas swears to himself and holds his head in disgust. He hoped no on heard that last part.

[Krysanthe]

It had been a long day, but at least it had been productive. Krys was an apprentice at the Reverie, as she had been for a few years. She was still learning, gaining skill. Earlier today, she had worked again on making beads. There were many elements to glass working that she loved. The color. The effort. The heat. The passion. The outcome. She loved the big gorgeous creations that master craftsman created, for they were wondrous and admired everywhere. She loved the glass mosaics that decorated their home. What she loved more than anything, however, was the small little details. She loved to analyze every color and every speckle of every pieces of glass, amazed by the details that some glassblowers were able to work into even the smallest of pieces. This is why beading intrigued her so much. She had a huge attention to detail, and she was determined to be amazing. Another thing that interested her about this occupation was the philtering. She felt as though any glassblower could turn some colored glass into some different shape, but it is the making of the color that really intruiged her. Why were some colors harder to come by than others? Why were some admired and others hardly looked upon? Philtering was most commonly associated with magic and potions, but it had its place in a glassblower’s shop, and it intrigued her. Yes. Beading, philtering, and perhaps one day if she ever gained the skill, she’d be able to make the amazing Eagle Eye glass. Watching the masters work such an amazing and intricate creation struck Krys with awe, and she hoped one day she’d be good enough to even be able to try such a creation. But for now, she’d stick with the little beads. Leaving the hot shop, Krys’s fingertips were still stinging from the occasional burn. They had begun to get callused since she was first accepted as an apprentice, so the heat was affecting them less and less. You’d think she’d have learned not to get herself burned, but what could she say? She may be a fast learner, but she still makes mistakes. It’s because she always tries to do something amazing (and likely too challenging) that she burns herself, and her determination is admired. Then again, her waste of glass with her mistakes is not. She’d got an earful today about being more careful. Eh. It wasn’t the first time. She knew she wouldn’t be kicked out of her apprenticeship. She had too much talent. Or at least, that is what she told herself. She liked to think that she was amazing. After all, she didn’t see anyone else her age doing what she did. Then again, she was never looking. It didn’t occur to her that they taught her how to make beads because she wasn’t very good at working in a team, which is what the other apprentices did around the glory hole, making the bigger pieces. But the day was over. Maybe when she went back tomorrow she’d be a bit more of a team player. She could learn to work with other people. She just needed more practice. She had always been somewhat antisocial, even when she was a yasi. She just didn’t see the appeal in playing with the other children. Krys told herself again that she needed more practice talking to people. She needed to get along with the other glassblowers if she wanted to get anywhere in the trade. If she was going to become an Avora, she would need to be liked. Yeah. Krys decided then and there that the next person she saw that was her age, she would try to strike up a conversation with. Yeah. That’s what she needed. Practice makes perfect. But where was she going to find someone just sitting around? And then she heard it. The semi-sweet sounds of someone playing a flute. Pretty. Sad. Kind of uncertain, as if the player was still learning. No matter, even something half learned was beautiful on the flute. At least, that’s what Krys thought. She simply adored music. It wasn’t her talent, but she still loved it. She had eyes and ears for pretty things. As Krys stood behind him, he muttered something about the song being played poorly or something to that effect, and Krys rolled her golden eyes. Sure, it could have, but she thought it was fantastic. The redheaded young woman decided to hang back for a moment, trying to figure out how she was going to greet this young man, deciding he would be the victim of her craving to attempt to socialize. He then again raised the flute to his lips and played a more upbeat tune. She recognized the frilly song, but it was distant, a memory. Sure, it wasn’t long ago that she was a Yasi, but the memories were still somewhat faint. Still, he played the song well, so it didn’t take long for the memory to click. She remembered that song. Happy Little Arrow in Flight. Of course! She remembered making up words to that song. A few meaningless lyrics with a few silly rhymes. It was hard to make words to match such a flighty and fast tune, but the child had tried, and now the teenager strained to remember. As she stood, a smile spread across her face. It was a pleasant memory, those silly little words with that silly little song. But then the arrow missed its target when he struggled with the end, and the hostility of the young man’s curses caught her off guard. It was as if the few bad notes spoiled the whole song. Psh. He needed someone to talk some sense into him. “You’re very good,” Krys finally stated, coming over to his side. She wasn’t sure how to place herself. She wasn’t very good at this, after all. Should she stand in front of him? Behind him so he has to look at her? Perhaps to his side? She didn’t know. She felt awkward just standing there while he sat, so she made her way to his side, sitting on the step next to him, yet not uncomfortably close. She didn’t even know his name, after all, and talking to someone else was enough to make her feel awkward. “I’ve always wanted to play an instrument, but I’m just no good. But that sounded fantastic.” This kid was so familiar. They must be the same age. Perhaps they grew up in the same nursery. Who knows? Still, that long hair hanging in front of his eyes was somewhat of a trigger. She just couldn’t remember his name. As previously stated, she was not exactly a social butterfly. “I’m Krysanthe, by the way. Or just Krys. Or, I guess, well, you can call me Krysanthe if you want. But most people call me Krys. Yeah.” Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up just stop talking. Come on, Kryssie! Even you know you’re rambling. Don’t scare the poor guy off. You just gotta practice shutting up. Krys yelled at herself while she waited for some kind of response. She yearned to ask a question, to ask for the young man’s name, but she felt as though the question was implied, and that if she were to talk anymore, she’d just make herself seem like even more of an idiot. Best to quit while she’s ahead.

[Vaas]

“You’re very good,” Krys finally stated, coming over to his side.

Vaas looks towards the direction of the gentle but nervous voice. He recalls hearing that timid voice once before in his early years of the nursery. He remember she threw a stuff animal at him when he said something most likely stupid. In his head, he laughs to himself because he has a tendency to put a foot in his mouth from time to time. He never could asked the reason why she threw the stuffed animal at him because he couldn't find her after she ran away crying. Sometimes he hated his blindness because he has a tendency to loose people if they don't come back and talk to him again. However, he liked the girl; Krya or was it Kryssie always a kind with a good heart and a hell of a throw! He was always proud of his memory because it was the only way he learn a song or music is by listening and remembering it.

“I’m Krysanthe, by the way. Or just Krys. Or, I guess, well, you can call me Krysanthe if you want. But most people call me Krys. Yeah.”

Vaas just listen to the Kryssie stumble over her greeting, and he just had to nods and listen. He brings his flute to lips trying to stifle a laugh, but he just grins at her and starts rubbing his chin. Thinking man I need to shave, anyways. Suddenly she stops talking, and his eyes widen in panic, “I will not lose my friend again,” He declares to himself in his head.

Hoping to jog her memory, Vaas runs a hand though his hair revealing his cloud green eyes. He smiles to her closes his eyes and brings the shiny metal flute back to his lips, takes a deep breath, and remembers a tune he learned in the Temple of All Gods, but he stops and remembers he is a better singer than flutist. He loved this song, and it fit him perfectly, and one day he hopes to sing it for Kaden Avin himself. He knows it a dream, but is life worth living without dreams. Moving the flute from his lips and holding in his left hand. With his eyes still closed, he stands up on his step not caring who is watching, and he takes a deep breath. He sings his favorite song, an old Inarta children song,“Little Sparrow Lost in Wind”, to the Krysanthe and the world. This hymn always brought tears to his eyes. A sad song about a little sparrow caught in a storm. The little sparrow is being tossed and thrown by the great winds never hitting ground. The sparrow prays up to the gods to let it die, but all the sparrow hears is booming voice of Zulrav in a series of flashes of lightning and thunder. The sparrow closes its eyes waiting to die, but feels it is gently embraced by light and carried to the center of the storm. When the sparrow opens his eyes, the wind has calmed, but it could see the raging storm circling for miles around sparrow and a human woman radiant white robes. The woman brings it to her lips and kisses gently, and in that kiss, it finds new found strength to fly in the storm. The woman lets it go and floats away and she vanishes. Leaving the bird alone in the eye of the storm. This song was about his favorite goddess, Priskil.

He wipes his tears. “Damn song, now I'm is crying,” Vaas mutters to himself as he wipes the tears from his eyes, sits back down on the stairs, and opens his eyes again. He turns and look into the direction her voice. Hoping he is facing the right direction and says with a giggle, “You know, Krysanthe, you have a hell of a throw...”

[Krysanthe]

From the beginning, Krys was confused. This fellow seemed to be trying not to laugh at her, so immediately she was embarrassed, second guessing this whole ‘social’ thing. What good was it to try to talk to people if they were just going to laugh at her? Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he was just going to play his flute and she misinterpreted it is a stifling laugh. When he lowered the instrument, this hope was diminished. Yup, he had definitely been trying not to laugh. There it was, strike one, the first reason that she should stand and leave. It wasn’t quite enough though. Krys waited for an answer, but alas Vaas said nothing. What, was he deaf? Was his attempt to hide giddiness coming from some other source? Had he even heard what she had said? Perhaps he was deaf. No, you can’t be deaf and be able to play such pretty music. He must just be ignorant, which didn’t encourage Krysanthe at all. Then again, he was somewhat familiar. Something about this young man struck some kind of memory in the back of her mind, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Vaas then drew his hand and ran it through his hair, pushing his extremely long bangs back, revealing his cloudy green eyes. Suddenly, it all clicked. He was blind. He loved music. He called her his friend. He was the same age as her. And then his name clicked. Vaas! Of course! How could she forget? Of course, it had been years since they actually had a conversation. They were childhood friends, and despite the fact that they were only fifteen, it still seemed like so long ago. Krys really only remembered Vas because he was one of the few people who actually tolerated talking to her. Krysanthe always had a great interest in those that were different, so she always enjoyed her conversations with the young blind man. Still watching him, Krys waited to speak with a mite of anticipation as he raised the flute to his lips again, and then with dismay as he lowered it, curiosity as he stood, and horror as he began to sing. It wasn’t that he was a bad singer. No, this was not the case at all. In fact, Krys quite admired his voice as he sang of sparrows and storms. The only reason she was mortified was because he was drawing so much attention to himself. Sure, she was envious that he had so much confidence that he could just stand up and sing without fear of judgment, but she was more humiliated than jealous. Passersby paused and stare, their eyes shifting between the singing blind boy and the girl sitting near him. Every fiber of her being told her to stand and run. Go back to the safety of her bedroom. He was blind after all, distracted by singing. She could leave and he wouldn’t even notice. Still, the singing was strike two. She reminded herself that practice makes perfect with this communication thing. Perhaps Vaas needed more practice too. Or maybe he was just quirky. Who was she to judge if he liked singing in public? She sat awkwardly, not really knowing where to look or what to do, tapping her head and humming to the tune in an attempt to look nonchalant. One passing man stopped and threw Krys a pinion with a sympathetic smile on his lips and pity in his eyes, before continuing on his way. Krys wanted to stand up and shout in the stranger’s face. They were no beggars. They weren’t looking for his charity. They didn’t want his pity. Vaas just liked singing. Or did he? Why was he here? Was he begging? Was he looking for some extra money? No, that wasn’t it. Still, that pitiful pinion was strike three. Krys stood, and began to walk away, slowly, in an attempt not to make too much noise so he wouldn’t notice. Her cheeks were hot and she knew she must be more red than a tomato. But then he stopped singing. He swore and said something about crying. This made Krys turn, simply wanting to look. Damn her curiosity. There he was, wiping a streak of tears from his cheeks with a misplaced smile on his face. How much more uncomfortable could this situation get? Surely there was some normal Inartan teenager sitting around who didn’t randomly burst into song, pouring his heart out and then crying about it. Wasn’t there someone she could just make small talk with about the weather and other meaningless topics that she wouldn’t remember an hour afterwards? But no, she was here with this freakish blind boy. Petty judgments aside, Vaas still kept Krys’s attention. She didn’t want to walk away just yet. Sure he was strange, but everyone had their quirks. Krys figured there were probably several elements of her personality that freaked other people out. At least Vaas was confident with his quirks. Why did she stop talking to him all those years ago? After all, they had been good friends. ‘Krysanthe, you have a hell of a throw…’ Oh. Now it was coming back to her. The memory was dull and faded, since she had no thought about it in ages, but it was still there, barely clinging to the back of her mind. Something had happened when they were kids. Vaas had said something or done something that must have deeply insulted the younger version of Krys. Just like now, when Krys gets angry there is very little stopping her. She grabbed the weapon that was closest to her, which must have been a book or a stuffed animal or something along those lines, and she threw it at his head as hard as she could, then running from the room in explosive tears. It took several minutes to calm her from her temper tantrum. That day, she vowed to never talk to Vaas again. All in all, she had been rather successful. It wasn’t difficult. It had happened when they were seven or eight, and at that point, they were pretty set in what profession they would go into, so it was easy to ignore him. She always had something else to do, somewhere else to be. But why? What reason did she possibly have to never talk to him again? Whatever it was, she had buried it long ago. Maybe they could be friends again. But for Krys, it wouldn’t be easy. She felt somewhat guilty for remaining standing, for Vaas looked to his side where she had been sitting, but not guilty enough to actually go sit down. She remained on her feet in front of him, and somewhat sheepishly, she replied “Oh yeah… Ha… Sorry about that, Vaas. I guess I must have been pretty angry.” She chuckled somewhat dryly, although she felt that the situation was more uncomfortable than funny.

[Vaas]

While Vaas was singing, Vaas heard the sound of the pinion strike the steps at his feet and his heart sank. His anger and sadness builds inside him as thinks to himself, “What wrong with singing in public. I wanted to try to make a old friend smile with my favorite song, and I get treated like a beggar. God I hate this city!” Realizing she is now in front of him, Vaas turns to her and tries to hold a smile, but it fails, and he softly and sadly says, “Sorry, I hoped you like the song, and I hope I didn't embarrass you to much Kyrssie. If I did, I am deeply sorry...” Suddenly Vaas gets on his hands and knees and starts feeling around for the stray coin. He heard fall moments earlier. He lets his hair fall over his sad face. He really didn't care for the coin; however, this coin symbolized what this city really thought of him, Dek. Even though he working in his music not to be a Dek. He understands in Inarta society everyone has their place, and this coin symbolized his place in society. Maybe his dreams are just disillusions in Wind Reach. Maybe he should just leave. He stops looking for his coin and ponders it; however, leaving the Inarta would be breaking one of it most sacred laws. He finally finds the coin and picks it up, and he hold it there in his hand for a moment. Thinking of his fate outside Wind Reach.

Not knowing if she still there he slowly stands up and wipes his eyes with his arm. Not wanting to embarrass her further, he asks, “What bring you to this side of town, Kyrssie?” He should have started his conversation like this instead of making a public spectacle.

[Krysanthe]

Strike three. Strike three, right there. He called her Kryssie. Walk away, Krysanthe, just walk away. Turn tail and go while you still can. Honestly Krys just leave! No one calls you Kryssie. Ever. EVER. Go on. Just leave. She had been on the verge of walking away without so much as a goodbye, when suddenly, Vaas got on his hands and knees. Oh gods, now what was he doing? Krys looked left and right at the people staring as they passed. She grimaced at the looks and glared down at Vaas, who was searching frantically for one simple pinion. What was his problem? Was he a dek or something? It hit her again. That weight that dragged down her stomach and made her feel like a fool. What if he was a dek? What if after all this time the young blind man never had his dreams come true? He never found anyone to take him under their wing; he was trapped forever as a drudge simply because of something that he was born with? Krys felt very lucky that the only thing she was born with was a stubborn personality, and at least she could change that if she really wanted to. Vaas wasn’t that lucky. Krys was definitely embarrassed now, but it was a different kind of humiliation. This came from being so ashamed of herself. She was filled with self loathing, and glared at the glass coin upon the ground with spite, for much of her anger was embodied by that little symbol of greed and pity. She clenched her fists when he stood up. She missed her chance to run away. What brings you to this side of town, Kryssie? He called her that name again. That stupid stupid name. He called her the name that no one should ever call her, the name that she never uses unless she is trying to insult herself. Why? She couldn’t be sure. There was some angry subconscious link to that nickname that she just couldn’t put her finger on. Maybe if the two of them were close friends, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He could call her Kryssie and she would laugh. But they barely knew each other. And the name bothered her. But he didn’t know, so how could Krys in her right mind yell at him for it? Taking a breath, she replied softly, “Don’t call me that, please. It’s Krys. Just Krys. Or Krysanthe. But not Kryssie.” What else was it that he had asked her? Something significant. Oh yes, what brings her to this side of town. Well, that was an interesting question. It didn’t really occur to Krys that he didn’t simply know of her current occupation. She didn’t really think she’d have to say it considering she just came from the Reverie. But it does make sense. He is blind, after all. “And I… well, I work here. I’m an apprentice here at the Reverie. I’m a glassblower, or at least I hope to be, some day.” She smiled at the idea. Oh to be a master. Wouldn’t that be something? She could finally say she was good for something. She’d need to be able to figure out how to get along with people first. This whole conversation with Vaas couldn’t hurt. Maybe she’d finally be able to do a team project without getting yelled at. Or maybe what she really needed to do was work on getting used to getting yelled at. Hm. That seemed like a job for tomorrow.

[Vaas]

Taking a breath, she replied softly, “Don’t call me that, please. It’s Krys. Just Krys. Or Krysanthe. But not Kryssie.”

Vaas kind of taken back by the her clarification of her name. He came to the realization through his ignorance he been insulting her the whole time. First impressions were never his strong side, and the way keeps she keeps saying her name over and over. He realized he blew this first impression out of the water. Awkwardness starts to set into him and he runs a hand through his hair. He starts nervously rubbing the pinion in the palm of his hand. He looks up in the direction of Krysanthe voice and apologizes, “I am sorry Krysanthe. I guess I just remembering calling you.. by that name in the nursery.” He starts to flush in embarrassment and continues, “I just been out of sort this last week, so my oddities are starting to show more.” He laughs at himself and frowns, “I am...very bad at first impressions...sorry.”

Oddities is a clever way of saying total randomness. Vaas shifts uncomfortably still thumbing the pinion. Vaas hates uncomfortable silences because most of the time the person he is talking to already left before he could think of something to say. He relaxes a little though when he hears her say, “And I… well, I work here. I’m an apprentice here at the Reverie. I’m a glassblower, or at least I hope to be, some day.” He smiles at Krys and says cautiously, “My memory might be a bit foggy, but I remembered you always liked to play with sand. I am glad you took interest in glassblowing.” He thought about his wording. He seems happy with what he said. He meant every word he said. He didn't realize he was at the Reverie till Krysanthe mentioned it, and he also remembered she complemented him on his flute playing. He says with a smile, “Before I decided to sing.... I wanted to thank you for the complement. I really only know children songs right now, but hopefully in a couple years, I will learn more advance songs.” He stands there wondering if she going to hit with something, walk away, or stay. In his hand, he nervously shifts the pinion in between his fingers.

[Krysanthe]

Great. Now she felt guilty. Socializing was hard! Krys was definitely not enjoying herself like she thought she was. She even thought part way through this mostly awkward conversation that it would be easier talking to a childhood friend. WRONG! This was just… weird. Krysanthe felt entirely out of her comfort zone. This was not what she was good at. So he remembered calling her that in the nursery? Sorry sir, that was years ago. Times have changed. That was the nursery. The nursery! That was lifetimes ago. It was just odd to hear that name again, and somehow, it was attached with negative feelings. She just couldn’t remember why. Still she stuck to her guns about not being called that. Now what? So he’s been out of sort? Okay, so he is not this peculiar on a normal day. What? That made no sense at all. If he was odd, he may as well embrace it. Was he not proud of who he was? Krys scoffed in spite of herself, knowing well that she was simply a pot calling the kettle black. So he’s blaming himself for a failed first impression. As if. Krysanthe was well aware that this awkward encounter had a great deal to do with her. If she was any good at talking to people than she wouldn’t have to deal with this. Krys couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at the comment about playing with sand. Sand? Really? Naturally she understood the connection, but she took the comment more as an attempt at a joke. Even if it was not intended that way, the golden eyed gal had a rather unique sense of humor. She quickly squandered this chuckle as he continued, entirely serious about her glassblowing. He really meant what he said. Great, so that wasn’t supposed to be funny. Krys clenched her fist around her own pinion, irritated at her own judgment. Oh, so now he is bringing up what happened before he made a public spectacle of himself. Great. Great! Krys could feel herself blush again at the very thought of that incident. When he finished his comment about only knowing children songs and dreams for the future, she felt that this would be a great time just to end this conversation. This was getting way out of her comfort zone. She just wanted to get away and hide, truly. Something about how long this conversation was lasting struck a nerve in her. She began to feel claustrophobic. This needed to end. After another uncomfortable silence, Krys responded “You have a lovely voice. I bet, I mean, well, I’m sure that, well, you know. You’ll go far. I mean, you’re just so inspirational. A musical blind man. That’s got to be enough to get you farther than the average musician, right?” She offered a smile, then blushed as she realized that he couldn’t see it. Gosh she was bad at this. “Well I should probably be going. I burned myself a little today and should probably be doing something about it before I get blisters. But it was… uh… really nice to see you.” See you. Poor choice of words. Somehow, she felt like that would be offensive. “I mean, it was great talking to you after all this time. Yeah. Ah, I’ll see you aro- I mean…” Gods, didn’t she have any phrases in her vocabulary that weren’t some offhand comment about vision? She had to be able to think of something to dig herself out of this hole she had thrown herself into. It probably wouldn’t even have been a big deal if she hadn’t kept cutting herself off. “I hope I bump into you again sometime…?” She really had no idea what she was doing, so her odd comment ended with the upward inflection of a question. It could go without saying that she was no good at first impressions either. Maybe Vaas wasn’t such a bad guy. The comment was genuine enough. She really did hope that she could talk to Vaas again, but just when she felt less awkward. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Maybe they could get to be friends. But with Krys’s track record, what were the odds of that happening?

[Vaas]

Vaas just listens patiently to her awkward complement and he gives her a reassuring smile. He would of thanked her properly for the compliment, but she kept talking like she was trying to get away from something or someone truly terrifying. Was he really that much of a ass that she trying to run away? Maybe it was the singing? Maybe this reunion was never meant to happen? At the last thought, Vaas' mood quickly starts spiraling downward. He runs his hand through his hair, and thinks of a way to make it up to her. Mulling over ideas in his head. Vaas frowns when she mentions she got burned at the furnaces. He never realized that glassblowing was such a dangerous art. He smiles widens at the sudden thought of the spring concert at the Ceder Amphitheater. He will wait until she is done talking.

Vaas smiles to himself when she starts to try saying goodbye. When she stumbles over her words, he had to admit she was pretty cute in her own way. Also he starts to wonder if she talks to anyone at all. He remembered she was a shy girl in the nursery, and she never really said anything other than the occasional thank you, no, or see you tomorrow Vaas. Honestly, she never talked at all than why did he remember her voice. Vaas smiles at the realization that she might be making a conscious effort to met people, and this first meeting with him was awkward as awkward can get. Vaas mulls these new thoughts over and decides to act.

I hope I bump into you again sometime…?”

Vaas twirls the pinion in his hand and says, “Krysanthe, I am happy to hear your voice again.” He awkwardly runs a hand through his hair and asks, “If you are free tomorrow after work, the Cedar Amphitheater is having a spring concert. The music isn't not as contemporary and up beat as the music in the Inclement Weather, but it is really....” Vaas can't think of the proper word for classical Inarta music. Priskil, what is the correct word, and after a long pause, Vaas says unsteady, “patriotic... no I mean relaxing and comforting...” Now it is his turn to second guess himself, and he says to her nervously, “It is OK if you don't want to come.., but I should let you get home, and Wind Dancer gets kind of cranky when he not fed. Man am I rambling..?”

[Krysanthe]

A concert? Patriotic music? No, relaxing music. What? Tomorrow? Oh yes, she knew about that. Krysanthe enjoyed attending concerts and the like. In the past, she has attended numerous concerts all by her lonesome. People didn’t really question the individual who likes to listen to music after a long day of work, and if they did, well, they never pestered her about it. She found the music quite soothing. It took her to a different world, a place that she would much rather be than in this moment right now, awkwardly waiting for Vaas to finish speaking so she could run away and hide without seeming like a complete inconsiderate moron. Suddenly, Vaas lost his normal confidence and crumbled into pieces, although she felt his rant wasn’t near as terrifying as her own. At least he seemed to have some kind of reason. Krysanthe was at this point convinced that half of what she had just said wasn’t even words. That’s how she remembered it. Just a bunch of gibberish. “That’s something we have in common!” Krys blurted, blushing immediately after the words escaped her lips. Somewhere in the recesses of her memories, she recalled someone lecturing her that you make friends by finding common traits. She felt she needed to explain, but she took a breath first, not wanting to sound any more insane than she already did. “I mean… We both… ramble…” She coughed, clearing her throat, attempting to get rid of the lump that had formed. “… I guess.” Once again she recalled that he had asked her something. What was it? She was too busy feeling like she was drowning to remember what he had said. Something about music. Music that isn’t contemporary. Oh yes! The spring concert! Right. Okay. She felt like there were sparrows in her stomach chasing the butterflies that had already made their home there. Why was she was so nervous, she couldn’t say. She just wanted to get out. But how? Of course she would go to the concert. She would have gone anyways. So what would be an appropriate response? “I’ll be there.” Simple enough of a response. She figured that was safe. She clenched her hands into fists, clenching and unclenching them, trying to release some of the tension that she still felt building. Gosh she hated this. It was as if she had started at the top of a mountain with a little snowball of hope of having a nice conversation, dropped it, and now it had rolled into an avalanche of failure. But maybe it wasn’t so bad. After all, she had just had a conversation. And she was invited to a concert. So that’s nice. Maybe she had just made a friend! That would be incredible, however unlikely. “Later, Vaas.” She cut off suddenly, deciding to completely drop any sort of ‘see you’ or ‘talk to you’ or any of those prefixes in order to not offend. Plus, that way, the goodbye would be shorter and she wouldn’t have to worry about stumbling over her words like she had done previously. She waited only a second for his response before she turned and walked away, probably a little too fast to look natural. She really didn’t know what he said before she left if he said anything at all, because quite frankly, she was done listening. He could have said anything from a simple ‘goodbye’ to ‘purple lizards sing while I play music with a piece of glass’ and she would not have noticed the difference. She just wanted to go home and tend to her somewhat imaginary injuries.