It Ain't Always What it Seems [Nira'lia, Sariana, Sylkra]

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: Spring 21, 512AV, Late Afternoon Pash'nar found himself back in Alvadas. He could only guess at why. The Patchwork Port was looking better, but his breath still caught in his chest when he saw the stretch of beach and remembered his near-death at sea. His last memory of time on that same beach was no more pleasant, though less life threatening in a way. The tattooed sailor looked for reasons to petch about on his casinor, delaying the inevitable of entering the city proper and perhaps actually bothering to look for people he knew. He loathed the thought of all that meant, though, heart still heavy with the memories he'd dredged up that day near the end of spring in front of Sariana. Ached like the sore, still-healing flesh of his leg. Once he'd finished finding every excuse possible to remain on board, Syna's light was stretched thin, golden on the water and golden on the walls of Ionu's city. He slipped over his hull and onto the worn wood of the port's docks, wandering at a purposefully slow and thoughtful pace. What the petch was he doing here? Was he looking for one of them? Any of them? Why? How the petch was he going to find anyone in Alvadas' shifting streets? The dark-haired navigator was granted entrance by the Gaping Maw without hesitance, if only because it was easy to offer the half-hearted truth that he was here looking for work, though his own reluctance was surely obvious on his countenance or in his movements on the streets. That wasn't the only reason he'd returned to Alvadas, but it was his best answer for now. Everything else he was unsure of ... was he really here to make amends? Did he come crawling back to shore for the sake of making others feel better? To make himself feel better? Surely not. When was the last time he truly let some petching woman—or anyone, really—get under his inked skin so deeply as to make him even consider such foolishness? Decades, surely. Ages indeed. He was spat out onto an unfamiliar street, and as he attempted to search for his bearings, he simply began to think of faces he knew and people even he, deep down, wanted to see again. Pash'nar was still unsure of what he wanted from anyone, even himself. His brief time at sea attacked by monsters and charoda had reminded him of why he chose not to get involved with feelings, emotions, hearts … and yet, wasn't he? Entangled enough to get himself into trouble. Entangled enough to run away. Entangled enough to come crawling back like some petching fool. He had no real expectations, and, even worse, no destination. He simply wandered a bit through the City of Illusion, which was unexpectedly full of snow, wrestling with his own thoughts, justifying his own actions, and attempting to guess at the actions of others. He wasn't surprised to be caught off-guard by Ionu's whims, but the lack of summer inside the city made him even less sure of his purpose in being back here. Even if he'd made a petching mess, but one he'd made all his own.

[Nira'lia]

"I promise it tastes good!" said the child as he scooped up yellow snow in his hands and offered it to Nira'lia. Alvadas was under a blanket of snow in the middle of the summer. It was strange and mystical, but the city, Ionu's domain, was a mysterious one. At the moment, the boy was telling Nira'lia about the patch of yellow snow under a nearby bush. The konti couldn't help but smile sheepishly. This kid was telling her that the yellow snow was actually lemon flavored ice – and Nira'lia couldn't take it upon herself to trust him. One could only think of something disturbing when they saw yellow snow, and it was not that they were lemon flavoured. The boy continued to pester her, and he even made an act of taking a mouthful himself. Gaping, Nira'lia looked disgusted, but then she thought... surely nobody could be that good an actor. Finally giving in, she accepted the snow from him and daintily took some of it in her mouth. To her surprise, he was right! The familiar tangy taste of lemons met her taste buds. It was refreshing, and she took another mouthful, chuckling at the discovery. She had spent the whole morning playing with this kid. They were near the Cubacious Inn which was where the Konti was staying. In fear of getting lost, she avoided straying too far from the inn when she had a choice. Soon enough, the boy bid her farewell, and she gleefully waved at him as he walked away. Now she was alone again. She leaned down and started to draw strange figures in the snow to pass her time. Nira'lia didn't know a lot of people in the city yet, and she found herself alone at most times. Something in her hoped she could run into a familiar face once again. She knew Sariana and Sylkra were around, but she found herself too shy to bother the two women too much. As if her questions were answered, Nira'lia looked up to see a recognizable person. "Pash!" Impulsively, she stood up, her face bright with happiness. Without warning, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, giggling all the way. If she had actually given it a second of thought, she knew that it wasn't a smart move and it might cause him discomfort. However, she was just too excited to see him. She pulled away from him and clapped her hands together. It had been a while since she last saw him! Peering at him with interested eyes, she said, "What are you doing here? Are you looking for Sariana?"

[Sylkra]

oocSorry if there is any errors, I am at E3 for the week, and using my iPhone and the 'Notes" app to write this!

I patiently awaited for when the breadman would throw away the scraps. The leftover bread that no one wanted, the burned ones. It was food, delicious stuff that made your tongue tingle, it was a gift from the gods. And so I hid in an alleyway, a dark one that only me and the rats knew. Here was where he dropped the bread. It took some waiting, but eventually, he stumbled out of the restaurant or bar or inn or whatever it was. I dove behind a crate, making sure that he didn't see me. He always made us run away or else get harmed if we were spotted.

He dumped 10 pieces or so onto the ground, and trudged back inside. I saw this as my chance. I padded over to the bread. What a waste! How could humans not want this food if they were so greedy? Sure it was burnt, but it was good.

I craned my neck down to take a piece, and then once ahold of it ran back to my hiding place where I gobbled it down quickly. If I didn't take it soon enough the rats would get it. I speeded back to the pile, and picked up my second piece. My brain then hatched an idea. What if I stay at the pile and eat it? My plan worked. No rats came near, and the Bread was all mine. I chewed brought each piece as fast as possible, and once down to the last one instead I eating at the spot I picked it up and took off.

Stupid humans, they have no idea hey are feeding me.

I went around the corner and into the light. My eyes scanned the passing feet and hooves and wheels, waiting for a chance to break through the crowd and get to the other side of the street. Sure enough, soon after a wide space was between the last person who passed and the next in line. So I ran across the street, not rushing nor taking my time. I wanted to get to the other side quickly, but didn't hurry, if the next person came most likely would go around me. I reached the other side, and ate my bread more peacefully, savoring each flaky, chewy bite. When it's only remnants were crumbs, I sped down the sidewalk in search of Sariana, she was probably looking for me. Just in case she was near, I let out a loud howl to alarm her where I was. She was my master.

[Sariana]

OOCSorry guys, I subscribed but I've had no notifications there were any replies!

Sariana didn't wander the streets full of curiosity and wonder. She didn't find herself in strange shops or places of business browsing their wares or eating their food. The drykas warrior placed herself in the middle of a busy street, standing in the snow with the bison fur she and Sylkra had hunted wrapped around her shoulders, tightly sealed clay jar hanging from her belt. Tiny flakes of snow had settled here or there in her hair, like a spattering of stars in a black night sky. The hilts of her rapiers poked out above her shoulders and her breath caught in a wispy fog in the air in front of her. Sapphire eyes scanned the people in front of her, around her, watching the snow melting underfoot.

Since delivering Vrathetu to the arms of her brother, the brunette had received a letter in return. The horse had arrived in Riverfall safely and Reodin had taken him back home to Endrykas. She felt better, more at ease, but it was still a hard thing to bare. Vrathetu was her strider, the coming of age for a drykas was when they bonded with one. She had received her wind mark after that. To be so far from him, it caused her some worry. At least she had Sylkra. The thought of the wolf made the woman smile slightly, lost in her thoughts. The kelvic was a curious creature, fearless in the city and loyal to a fault. Sariana adored her companionship and treasured the hole in her soul that the young creature was able to fill. It was good to know she would never be alone - if she asked it of Sylkra the wolf would stay by her side.

Unlike some others she knew.

The small smile faded from her lips as she remembered her final encounter with the celestial Pash. Pash'nar. A damned godling, but still just the same as every other man. Heartless, selfish, mean. She had spent the end of spring torn between emotions she vowed never to bother with. Wanting him to come back so she could apologize, but never wanting to see him again and completely unwilling to apologize for something she'd not done wrong. Gods, how she wished that when the mantra-ray on his back had faded into the distance, that the feelings would have to. Why was she still here, in this awful city of illusion? Since arriving, there had been no signs from Karithus as to where her next destination lay. If she thought about leaving, the only thing she felt was a sense of loss. Like one felt when they were lost.

A loud howl broke through her musing, and with a grin Sariana moved forward through the crowd and down the street towards the searching kelvic.

"Sylkra, here I am." Kneeling down, she ruffled the large creatures fur and stroked her silky ears. Looking into rich amber eyes, the drykas chuckled.

"Have you been sneaking food from the alleys again? You smell like burnt bread." Scratching under the white woven collar she had made for the wolf, the brunette happened to glance across the street, and her heart caught in her throat. The smile faded and she stood slowly. She could see Nira'lia, had known the woman was in the city still but afraid to look for her in the ever changing scenery. And she could see something else. A figure, tanned skin and black hair. Tattooed in mostly all visible places, and some not so visible. Her chest felt ready to rupture as her heart beat against her ribs. Frozen in place, she signaled Sylk to stay close. There would be no biting or leaping on the man, she would not give him any leeway to harm the kelvic if she so decided to protect Sariana.

He had a limp, she could see it. A tingle of concern ran through her body. He had been hurt? Angrily, she looked away. Why should she care...he didn't care. Pash'nar had made it quite clear that he had been 'done' with her as he left with unkind words on the beach. Looking at Sylkra, the woman felt a gust of wind swirling across the people in the street, tugging on her long black tresses and whooshing across the way towards the ethaefal and the konti. Something stirred in her, a feeling missing for so long now. Sariana refused to follow it, frozen between speaking to Sylkra to tell her to come...and wanting to run across the street.

[Pash'nar]

His feet were numb in the snow, sandaled and wet. He'd lost his cloak in the djed storm, drowning, and so the chill in Ionu's air was annoying at best. The shifting streets led him nowhere, but he wasn't focusing on where he wanted to go. He thought of the Wager, or even the Rear, but neither of them interested him, really. He didn't feel like wasting mizas and for once, he didn't feel like drinking. Well, maybe he felt too much like drinking and that's what kept him away. His leg still ached. This frustrated him. As if Alvadas wasn't petching annoying enough. What did he come back for, anyway? He kept trying not to think of his reasons, because he knew them by name. He was loath to consider too deeply, for he knew it meant admitting things he had no interest in admitting, especially to himself. Then someone was calling his name and just as he caught a glimpse of pale hair and scales, he was hugged. Tackled, really, leg protesting the sudden movement, even though he could hardly consider Nira'lia extra weight even with her arms around his neck. It took him a moment to hug her back, tattooed arms slow to touch her, not because he didn't want to so much as he was caught off guard. He squeezed warmly, but shifted his weight with a hint of discomfort on his face once he was released, favoring his right leg. It was a strange relief that the Konti found him first, alone, but he knew to keep such things to himself, "Hullo, Nira—" The dark-haired navigator caught his quiet words with a sharp breath, her question not one he wanted to answer, "Nah, I ain't. I mean. I wasn't plannin' on't." He lied a bit, cerulean eyes glancing to the snow instead of the Konti's face, "Petch, I ain't sure why I'm still here. I've been workin' a bit an' my run ended here, I s'pose." It was more truth than lies, but the false Svefra was obviously reluctant to answer about Sariana, "It ain't like we left things well, Sariana an' I. Nira, she an' I … I …" Words failed and Pash'nar rolled his shoulders like the tide, still not meeting her gaze. Did he want to see her? Did it matter? What was the right answer? They weren't compatible. Not really. At least, as far as he was concerned. Or as far as he was willing to look. Looking further meant finding things that hurt, touching the edges of mortality again, and he just wasn't sure if he wanted go there. Or he knew he could, but was afraid of the consequences. "I don't know." He exhaled finally after a long silence, deflated, tired, cold, and aching. A calloused hand rubbed his unaging face and he let his tide pool gaze wash back over the Konti, "I ain't got answers today, lass. She an' I … well, I left." He didn't explain, unsure where to begin. He didn't like feeling lost or helpless, and he didn't like the way the Drykas distracted him. He just let his words hang there, unfinished, blinking at the smaller, pale woman. For a moment, he considered changing the subject. How had she been? Was she settling into Ionu's city?

[Nira'lia]

Nira'lia looked at the sailor with a sheepish smile. She bit back her words, refusing to make a comment about the way he was so indecisive about his reason for being here. Even the way he spoke about Sariana made it apparent that he was uncomfortable about the topic. He somehow seemed awkward, and he couldn't even look her in the eyes. The Konti had no idea about what had happened between him and Sariana, though she could easily find out if she wanted to. In the end, it was none of her business. Instead, she shrugged, obviously restraining herself from giving her opinion about his conflicted words. "It's fine if you don't know what you're doing here. I'm just glad I saw you... it's difficult being in a new city, especially in a city like Alvadas. This place is so... weird. Did you know you can eat the yellow snow?" Her eyes trailed to his leg. She was attempting to change the topic, though when she realized the problem with his leg, it came naturally. Almost instantly, concern swept over her features. She hadn't noticed it before, but he was limping. The decision to tackle him affectionately, out of the blue, now seemed silly. At the moment, she was just glad he hadn't yelled at her—he seemed to be in pain. "What happened to your leg?" she asked as she leaned down and peered at it, trying to get an idea of what was hurting him. Nira'lia hoped he would show her, and maybe she could help. The Konti could heal minor wounds, and if it was shallow, then she could help. Judging from his discomfort, it probably wasn't that shallow, but she tried her luck. "Hey, are you even taking care of yourself? Can you show me your leg?" Nira'lia had all her attention focused on him, and thus she didn't realize that Sariana and Sylkra were nearby. Ironically, at that moment, she hoped their travelling group could meet again soon. Pash'nar and Sariana surely had some things to mend, and while Nira'lia didn't want to be a pest, she hoped they could all spend time together.

[Sylkra]

I stopped my howl, and became overflowed with joy at the sight of master approaching. In fact, a little trickle of pee came out my end, but I didn't care. I barked and yipped, and ran up to her, tackling her in the process. Well, almost. She crouched down, and when I leaped onto her, I erupted in a spasm of licking.

Sariana seemed happy to see me as well. Her eyes shined with happiness. But then, everything became dreary again. Her vision shifted from me to Pash and Nira, whom I could see out in the distance. I couldn't help but feel a pane of anger. Not only was she ignoring me now, but also, Pash, the dirty sailor was here. How I despised him. He was so tall, and strong, and manly. He looked like a huge threat to master's safety. Uh... Sariana's safety. I barked again, hoping to catch Sariana's attention. I whimpered, licking her arm, except not as much. It was one little lick that barely dampened her arm.

I couldn't understand why Sariana was so upset about Pash. She seemed to be angry, and sad, but yet.. she still liked him. And Sylkra still hated him, but wasn't allowed to hate the fact they liked each other. Humans were always dramatic about mating, they needed to find someone that was nice to them, not someone strong and smart that could bear strong pups. Or in their case, babies. Sylkra found babies fairly interesting. They were small things that could barely move, and they made annoying noises, that that made burps and squeals. Strange they were as well. They- Sylkra didn't want Sariana to have babies. She had seen it before. Once your mast has babies, all the attention goes to the baby. And then you get less and less noticed, until soon, if you even go near your master, they shout and scream, squealing, "A dirty animal!" It was a cruel life for a wolf and her master. Just the thought made Sylkra whine, and she burrowed her head into Sariana's chest, rubbing it to feel the warmth of her master. She loved Sariana, they had an undying loyalty for each other.

[Sariana]

Pulled away from the sight of the ethaefal across the street, Sariana smiled down at Sylkra as she rubbed her large soft head against her chest. Pushing her fingers through the wolf-kelvic's thick fur the drykas pressed her forehead to her companions and sighed.

"I know you don't care for him Sylk, and Gods be damned, I don't either." Well, that's what she told herself over and over.

"But it would be...dishonorable to turn our back and walk away from those whom we know like they are strangers to be distrusted. Besides, Nira is there. You like Nira, don't you?" Standing, she signaled the kelvic with a tilt of her head, before lifting her chin and making her way across the street. As they approached the duo, Sariana's sapphire gaze avoided any contact with the navigator.

"Nira, I knew you were still in the city somewhere." The warrior said in a friendly tone, tension in her voice suppressed with a smile. Vaguely, the brunette nodded to the man, her cheeks hot and her eyes on the konti rather than the ethaefal.

"Pash'nar." Between them snowflakes floated casually like small motes of dust here and there, hardly noticeable on the breeze.

[Pash'nar]

The tattooed sailor knew Nira'lia didn't understand his reasons, his purposeful aloofness. Longevity she indeed possessed, and yet even hers still paled in comparison to his own impossible-to-determine lifespan. She had also, perhaps, chosen to deal with the cycle of life in a more positive light, knowing and accepting her own end and the ends of others, even for a brief time. Pash'nar refused to see things clearly, or had gotten lost along the way toward such clarity. His opinions had been dirtied, muddied, trampled, lost. He'd changed course. He'd found comfort in temporary things, though if pressed, even he would be willing to admit that none of his vices particularly satisfied. They just passed the time. All the time he seemed to have. The Konti played along with him, humored him, teasing him about the petching snow and letting him get away with his excuses. He let a slow smile tug at his wind-worn features, watching her bemusement turn into concern. A dark-haired eyebrow arched and he waved a calloused hand dismissively, "S'nothin'. Almost mended, I'd say. What happened? Petch, y'wouldn't believe me if'n I told you, but I'll tell you anyways." His grin turned wry, "I got stabbed by a charoda—of all things! An', I swear I didn't deserve it. Much." He laughed then, coarse and salty, a bit of tension melting from his finely inked shoulders. It was petching ridiculous, really. All of it. What of his life really made sense anymore, anyway? "An' then I was petchin' stupid an' overworked m'self liftin' shyke an' sailin' with some folks for a bit'o'coin. You can see if you want," he winked then, with an unexpected coyness, feeling uninhibited despite his internal philosophical dilemmas, both hands moving to his belts and the hemline of his linen pants, "But I gotta take's off, first, lass. Maybe not out onna street, eh—" The dark-haired navigator stopped himself then, swallowing the rest of his words as he caught a glimpse of movement tugging at the corner of his gaze. Cerulean eyes slid away from Nira'lia to fall on the more intimately familiar form of the Drykas and her wolf as they approached. Surprisingly enough, his smile didn't fade so much as temper, corners deepening as he made effort to keep his expression instead of lose it. Inked hands didn't move from their general location, thumbs hooking into comfortable places under his belt as he straightened, leaning only slightly to the right. Though it hurt somewhere inside to do so, Pash'nar somehow mustered the manliness to keep himself from skipping a beat in his impromptu warmth, insisting with his typical boldness that the woman who spoke his name so distantly not feel as unwelcome as he, himself, must have been. He'd made his own mistakes, and he was used to paying for them. When Sariana didn't look at him, he glanced at Sylkra briefly before looking at the swordswoman anyway, attempting to catch her gaze with his own, "Sariana," her name was heavy off his lips, weighted with words that were far more than a simple greeting, spanning the purposeful distance between them. Distance he had insisted on in his own selfishness, "Ionu's gotta mind of her own, I see. S'good to see you." He didn't lie, and risked another glance down at the wolf as if to include her in his simple honesty, "An' you." Mostly. He shifted uncomfortably, but refused to alter his stance, though he looked to Nira'lia to ask his question instead of lingering on the Drykas, "Y'mean you all ain't stayin' in th'same place together?"

[Nira'lia]

"A... charoda!?" repeated Nira'lia, her expression in disbelief. She knew about the race, although she had never really met one before. It seemed silly because she was a Konti and half of her being was owned by the sea, and she had never met a Charoda before. "Also, you're injured, and you decided to work anyway? Really, Pash..." She gave a soft sigh, although her smirk also said she was amused. As a medic, injuries and illnesses were some of the things she could approach realistically. Nira'lia was a healer and it was in her nature to be concerned about these sorts of things, and she was slightly irritated by people who chose not to take care of themselves. This she hid behind her expression, although her words were giving her away. "If it's nearly healed, I can help take care of it if you wish... don't worry, I've seen a lot of men in the clinics before," she said with a laugh, although her cheeks were slightly red. She considered Pash a friend, and she also found him attractive. It was very unprofessional of her, but a small part of her hoped he'd decline, because that would just be awkward. They conversation was suddenly joined in by two others. Sariana and Sylkra! The joy on Nira'lia's face couldn't be ignored as the group converged. She noticed the tension between the sailor and the raven-haired woman. Nira'lia had nothing to do with it, but she shifted in her feet uncomfortably. "No, we aren't, we went separate directions when we got here..." said Nira'lia. 'To be honest, part of me wondered if they had left with Pash.' The Konti saunted over to Sariana and pat her shoulder playfully, and then she gave a wave at the wolf. She had grown fond of the two during their days and nights as a travelling group. It had been a group brought together by pure chance, but a lot had happened as well, and she had been a witness to it. "What are you guys up to, Sariana? Sylkra?" asked the Konti curiously as she looked from the Drykas to the Kelvic.