Open A Silent Siren

[Zenobia]

19th of Winter 512 It was a warm day for the season – a radiant, sunlit day, highlighting what Zenobia saw as the dark, ravaged beauty of the debris and vestiges of Sunberth. She had been to see the fallen, gilded glories of Ahnatep, the Castle Strongholds of Syliras, the secretive streets of Nyka and, of course, the majestic, intellectual beauty in the subtlety of Zeltiva... but nowhere in Mizahar was quite like Sunberth. It was that constant adrenaline and exertion, the inability to think and the looming prospect of a fight for survival. There was nowhere else where one was quite so aware of Life and Death, or the value of life. Maybe it was the lack of civilization and law enforcement, but one felt like living on one's own terms when one was in Sunberth. Not that she always had, of course, for on reflection, there was nowhere else where one had to be quite so careful of whom one met. She had come to the Simpering Seacow early in the day, when she thought the streets were probably less dangerous and less full of people who might wish her harm. The Simpering Seacow, outside of her own little apartment, was her favourite place in Sunberth. She had, to some extent, managed to find friends there so was treated with cordiality and even warmth when she went to get her favourite Sunberth Shanty. It always amused her that, in Zeltiva, where they considered themselves close to the pinnacle of civilization, they had such a god-awful speciality, Kelp Beer, whereas Sunberth, home of ruffians and the lowest of the low, had this delightful concoction. As always, most of the waitresses were hostile to her when she entered but a couple greeted her with smiles. Zenobia did not know why they saw her in such a light, but she knew that the hostile ones liked to call her Vixen, Shrew, Virago or other unflattering names which frankly bore no reflection on her character. When she had first arrived in Sunberth, relatively sweet and naive, they had been perfectly beastly to her, commenting that she behaved with 'airs and graces' but she was not fit to carve herself a noted place in Sunberth, and would end up a common vagrant. Then one had suggested that she really was not quick enough to live on such vagrancy, and with little else to do in Sunberth, she would find herself a whore. They had joked, probably thinking she would give up and return to Zeltiva, but she had taken their advice, and did exactly that. She became a whore. Now, their whispers didn't trouble her in the slightest. She knew them to be feeble-minded, ignorant women who would probably fall to the trials of age at thirty, a good deal earlier than most women, overworked, plump, buxom and pretty but perfectly unremarkable once the first wrinkle set it. She sat down at a table, well covered so the winter chill didn't bother her, and looked around, observing those about her with an ill-disguised passing interest.

[Xadel]

The day was warm, but the early morning air still carried some of the bite of the chill. One person did not feel much of the cold though. Xadel had refrained from going out the previous night, instead filling a bed that was not his own. He was sure Gia was thankful for that and possibly for more reason than one. She always chided him for his usual night time activities. He had roused from sleep early though and decided to leave his friend in peace so that he might get some time to practice his skills. Headed his way to a spot he frequented when he wanted to practice. Many times he managed to garner a tip or two by a passerby if he did well enough. This morning was no exception and he had managed to gather a small circle of people around him across the street from The Simpering Seacow. He had arrived a little earlier and prepared his things, running over his act and going through a rather rigorous stretching routine. The was soaked in oil and when he struck the flint it ignited, holding a steady flame. He was rather scantily clad for such cold weather but it was only a mattered time before he was warmer than he had been in his cloak. He moved with a grace that came from years of practice, bending and twirling in elegant patterns. The flame danced around his body and seemed to be an extension of himself. Few knew that he truly did use his abilities in reimancy to add some flourish to his act, he hid it well amongst his routine. He performed a rather extravagant flip that ended in a gout of flame when he blew out a previously hidden quaff of alcohol. The crowd let out an awe and some clapped. He smiled a little to himself. Gia always enjoyed his firedance and he would often times perform along side her. But for now he was alone and he was starting to wear down. He finished his dance and took a bow after extinguishing the flames. He reviewed some applause before donning his cloak once more and making his way across the street and sitting at an open table. A good portion of the waitresses had been watching him from time to time and now they scurried about again. They were some of his biggest fans, and he always enjoyed flirting with them. "Hey Xadel, you looked good over there. Haven't seen you around lately. Have you been two timing us?" One of the maids asked in a flirty voice. He smiled at the girl and leaned back a little in his seat. "Oh you know I could never do that. I've just been...a bit busy lately." "Uh huh. Sure you have, getting into more trouble are we? Does that have anything to do with the fact that you aren't accompanied by your usual company?" He knew she was talking about Gia. Sure they were commonly in each others company but they were in no way tied down to each other. Some of the girls there were still a little jealous of her. "Oh well I think she's probably a little worn out, maybe she'll join us later. For now though I think I'll have my usual." He smiled and winked in his charming way, his eyes shifting colors as he spoke. The girl nodded a little and hurried off to fetch his drink. After she left he relaxed a little and tool the time to scan the bar, mostly empty in the early morning. He took a deep breath and just enjoyed the day.

[Zenobia]

Zenobia had little of any interest to look at until a familiar figure walked into the Seacow. Until then, she had mainly been occupying herself, drawing amusement up with an old bearded man in the corner who had a very long nose, and was trying to clean his little spectacles. She decided that a handsome was possibly more worthy of her attentions. She didn't get up at once, as her drink came over and was slapped down in front of her with the most gentle roughness of a waitress who couldn't afford to do bad by the customers, but would undoubtedly have jumped for joy at the sight of her customer drenched with the drink splashing all over her. Zenobia took a couple of sips then slowly stood up, quite leisurely and glided over to where he was sitting with a smile. He had his back to her so she tapped his shoulder twice then moved to position herself straight in front of him, directly in his path of view, arms crossed, an amiable smile on her face. She flicked a dark curl out her eyes then bit her lip lightly, before saying quite quietly: "Do you mind if I join you? I can go again in a minute if you're waiting for someone." Without waiting for an answer, she gracefully sat down, hardly taking her eyes off the man. At that moment, the waitress came over with his drink and Zenobia was certain that her popularity with the members of staff was not about to improve. It almost upset her, but she couldn't afford to be so. She liked talking to interesting people, and she wasn't going to let a group of pretty talking birds tell her she couldn't. "A Problem?" she asked with a little smile, trying to conceal her anger at the woman's blatant disregard. "No. There isn't." There was a little pause before she added quite pointedly, "I just don't like your sort." "My sort? I know very well that you just don't like me and that it has nothing to do with what I do. You haven't liked me since I arrived in Sunberth. Don't worry. I know that it's intensely personal, so you don't have to hide it." "I'm sorry then." she sounded decidedly unapologetic, "You needn't be so uppity." "I am not so. I am quite willing to extend the olive branch and offer a truce and, who knows, friendship. You are not." "I'm not friends with bawds." She turned on her heel and went off back to the bar and started whispering with one of her friends. Zenobia knew perfectly well what they were whispering about and couldn't hold back a small sigh. She turned back to the Vantha. "I apologise if you consider this forward. Especially as one never knows quite who to trust when in Sunberth. However, I don't feel you wish me harm and, I assure you, I don't wish you any." she laughed, "Though I doubt I could cause much, even if I wanted to."

[Xadel]

As soon as the waitress walked away Xadel became acutely aware that he was being watched. He got a strange sense that eyes were on him and after a few moments sensed then walking over to him. He didn't make any sudden moves, just slowly moved one hand to a dagger he had hidden amongst his clothes in case he needed to react quickly. What happened though is that he was simply tapped on the back and when e looked behind him and saw the girl he had met a few days prior. He relaxed the grip on his knife and smiled up at the woman. When he asked to join him he nodded but it seemed she wasn't waiting for a response anyway. Once he sat his drink arrived, the waitress seemingly in a muh worse mood than earlier. He supposed it was bad enough that he came here with Gia at times but now there was another woman for them all to compete with. He shrugged a little to himself and kept himself out of the small spat that ensued. He was able to learn a bit more about the woman before him though during the exchange. He knew that the waitresses here were a self absorbed lot and anything that drew attention away from them, especially from a potential prey, was viewed as a threat. He pushed it off though and apparently the waitress felt it wasn't worth pursuing much either and would rather go blather about it with her friends. When she apologized for being forward he couldn't help but laugh out loud. "M'lady if you think that something such is that is too forward than I fear that our interactions are going to be rather offensive to you. As far as wishing you harm, if I did that I would have left you to that had fellow and his friend. Also, I feel that you underestimate the harm that a woman can do to a man. It is far worse than any physical ailment you might think of. Many times mental wated are can cause far greater and log lasting damage than any physical scar. It festers until it erupts and cripples one wholly. But I feel you will not visit this horror upon me. So that being said how are you this fine day?" He smiled at the woman now and waited for her response.

[Zenobia]

Zenobia did not at all mind the fact that he laughed at her, for he had a pleasant laugh and unlike many laughs she had encountered during her short life, it had no malice in it. "Thank god for that. I am glad that you are not the type to play coy. Unfortunately, I was raised in Zeltiva by a very proper Eypharian mother. As a result, I have never quite rid myself of the need to apologise for any form of what might be considered rudeness by some, though never by myself. Anyway, you can never be too careful with courtesy." And that included being overly polite courteous. Ten to one, a polite man was a better bet to have his purse cut in a dark alleyway by a group of thugs. Probably because they sub-consciously saw him as less hardy than ruder, more boisterous companions. Her mind, however, only rested on this for a second because the conversation turned almost abruptly, but very fluently, to a far more pleasant topic, in her eyes at least. "The harm a woman may do a man? If I am correct in my assumption that you refer to woes of the heart then I am pleasantly surprised to discover that you have the soul of a poet. Either that, or one of a farceur. Sometimes it is very difficult to tell which of the two, I need hardly tell you. And do not be too hasty in believing that lovesickness is merely an ailment of the heart and mind... it can be physical. Why, I knew a man in Ahnatep whose wife left him for her lover, an Inartan slave, so he took to his bed and never spoke a word ever again except her name. They say you could hear it ringing through the nighttime streets, 'Nitsa. Nitsa.' until the day he died, which must have taken a lot of endurance for I don't find it a very pretty name." Zenobia laughed, "I am not sure if that is love or affectation, though I tend towards the latter. A man must be awfully self-important to play the pose of love so well." She realised she was talking too much, but it did not trouble her for she knew that it often served to put people at ease with her company. She smiled at the simple nature of the question 'How are you?' for she didn't think she could remember when such an enquiry had been last done to her. After all, it was merely a social convention for many people, and social convention was not the sort of thing which flourished in Sunberth. "I am well. In good health and as happy as I think a person may be in Sunberth without inciting suspicion from their neighbours. And yourself?" The wind was blowing so she moved slightly closer so that she wouldn't miss a word of his discourse.

[Michaela Abendroth]

It was a slight breezy day outside and it was cloudy. So Michaela didn’t have too much of a problem being outside because there wasn’t very much brightness to hurt her eyes, but she still had to be careful. Michaela was new here and she had scouted out some places that has looked interesting to her the night before, and the Simpering Seacow seemed to have the lowest lighting inside, which worked to her advantage and if she needed to be quick about something it wouldn’t be in her worst favor. She noticed that not many people were there during the early morning and so she decided that would be the best time to go. Michaela had her wings wrapped around her so it looked like she was wearing a cloak, since she was going out into public and all, and not all people were understanding of her kind, or the fact that they really didn’t wear clothes. Michaela picked a spot in the far left corner and waited for a waitress to come up to her so she could order a drink. I hope these people aren’t too full of themselves and will serve me, she thought to herself. Slowly and unsure a waitress approached her.

“What is it that you would like?” the waitress asked Michaela in a not very appreciative tone.

“I would like your special, the Sunberth Shanty, please.” Michaela asked of the waitress and awaited her response.

The waitress gave her a dirty look, wrote down what she wanted and went on her way to fetch the drink.

I wish I knew someone around here she thought to herself. Someone who would accept me for what I am and would be able to show people around here that I am not dangerous. That I am not completely out to make everyone slaves or to eat them. I looked around the bar again and seen a lady sit down with a man and they looked like they were happily conversing. I wish I had someone like that so I didn’t feel so out of place, but I guess that is what happens when you are new to a place, and you haven’t settled down yet.
The waitress then walked over with her drink, Michaela thanked her and then watched her give yet another dirty look and then walk off. This was going to be an interesting day I suppose.

Maybe I could go over there and introduce myself, although I don’t want to scare anyone off. Michaela sipped her drink slowly and kept thinking about this thought.

[Thorn]

A cloud passed over the bright sun, causing a shadow to cover the hooded figure that navigated its way through the almost-empty streets of Sunberth. This momentary darkness caused the figure to look up at the sky, which revealed a slightly grotesque face to peer upwards with glassy eyes and dead skin, a sight that would give most mortals a queasy stomach.

Thorn readjusted the hood that he wore, covering the top part of his face once again.
"Welp, I'm lost," he admitted to himself, ceasing his forward momentum to try and figure out where he was.

He remembered traveling into the city from the East, but it was much earlier in the morning then than what it currently was, and the darkness confused the already complicated city. A small sigh escaped his lips, which was a very odd sight to see, as Thorn had no need to breathe, so the quick inhalation and expulsion of breath did look very forced.

The plan that Thorn had originally thought of was to come and explore the city before moving there, perhaps become familiar with the layout and also inspect the state in which it was already infamous for: being ruthless and murdering. So far he had failed the first part of his plan - hence his being lost, but the ladder part was in fact confirmed, as an attempt to rob him had already been tried . . Twice. Thankfully Thorn had prepared for this by bringing absolutely nothing with him except for his clothes and the simple cloak that he wore. So after an initial pat-down and the vandals saw what race he was, they had wanted nothing to do with them. After that, Thorn had to wonder if the scum of Sunberth really did have some standards.

But like all forward thinking travelers, Thorn did keep a small purse strapped to the inside of his thigh which he held a few coins, needle and thread, and his smoking pipe equipment. These were all essentials when in unfamiliar territory, so he had to make sure they were in a place where robbers were loathe to look on his dead body.

Deciding that the best coarse of action was forward, he continued down a quiet street until he came to the hanging sign of a - what was it they called them here, a tavern; a pub; an inn? Whatever the place was called, the Simpering Seacow promised drink and warmth, and while he needed neither, he did require directions and perhaps some gossip.

Walking through the entryway, Thorn stopped and scanned the layout from underneath the hood of his cloak. There were a couple sitting at one table, a few more patrons scattered throughout, and a secretive figure in the corner. Thorn spent a small moment narrowing his eyes at the lonesome person, trying to figure out what it was that made the person stand out, but put away the idea, trying to be nonchalant about it. He figured he would sit as close to the middle of the room as he could get, since he knew that only those that had something to hide sat in the corner . It was just the moment when he pulled up a chair that a wench came to ask if he needed anything. At first Thorn had waved her away, but she only stood there, her gaze piercing him until he relented and said, "Fine, get me a drink. No, I do not care what it is, just make it cheap."

After she scurried off, he reached into his pants and produced his satchel, untying it and pulling out his pipe, tobacco, and flint. Pulling a few puffs from the pipe after filling and lighting it, Thorn began to contemplate how long it would take the Living around him to notice he was a Nuit. His previous record had been an hour, but hopefully the fact that he was smoking would lead people to believe he actually breathed.

[Michaela Abendroth]

I looked over at the door as I heard it open and he looked new here; he looked alone and he looked like he was lost.

Should I go over and talk to him, yeah maybe see what his story is and what is going on Micheala said to herself and then got up slowly thinking this decision over. She decided that she would go over there.

I went over to the table in the middle of the room to the guy that was smoking the pipe. I pulled out the other chair and looked around and then sat down.

"I noticed that you were a nuit" I whispered to him, "What are you drinking? Is it okay if I sit here?"

I looked around at everyone else, and they didn't even seem to notice that he came in or that he was sitting in the middle of the room.

[Thorn]

Movement from the corner of the room caught Thorn's attention and, realizing that the figure he had thought was just wearing a cloak had just draped its wings over itself, he raised an eyebrow as the female Zith approached him. She spoke Common fair enough with no sign of a Zithanese accent as she sat down, making him wonder if this one might have been raised as a slave, or was just not familiar with its native language. It was a gods-forsaken thing to get the hang of, so he couldn't blame her if she just never took it up.

Taking a moment to blow out a puff of smoke, Thorn made no movement to remove his hood in acknowledgement to the female, instead looking her over for a long while with his dead eyes, becoming familiar with all her features.

"Why you are just full of questions, my young Zith. So eager are you to talk I doubt you would have listened had I said no to your imposition." As Thorn talked, the voice did not match the youthful face that he wore, belying a much older and calculated intelligence within the body. His speech was slow and methodical, despite proper etiquette.

The wench finally returned with a large pint of amber liquid, which Thorn barely paid attention to, but just placed a silver Miza next to the mug. Yes, he knew he was overpaying by a long shot, but hopefully the establishment would quit bothering him.

"Yes, I am Nuit," he said in a conversational tone, figuring that now it was known his money was as good as any others, nobody would have a problem with knowing what he was. Or perhaps they did, it mattered not to him.
"I'm not drinking what I have gotten, so it's not important. I only wish for them to leave me alone. Do you have a name, winged one? And perhaps a reason why you have deigned it safe to disturb me? If you know what I am, surely you have heard rumors of what we do to young, fresh, and strong specimens like yourself."

[Michaela Abendroth]

Michaela looked around them once more and realized that nobody really cared that she sat down there. She smiled at him and said,

"Yes, I know what they do to young specimens like me, but I like to take chance and risk, and my instincts told me that I should come over and strike converstion with you, I have been thinking it over in my head since I seen you walk in, but you didn't look like someone who would just strike me down in such a crowded place, and if you were wondering why I was sitting up there in the corner it is because I don't like to be around the loud and noisy drunks. I always here people say that people that sit away from everyone have something to hide, and maybe most of them do, I just choice to so I don't get too curious around the drunks and they also hurt my sensitive hearing." I said to him with a smile, knowing that i probably said too much, or most of it he already knew, but I could sense good and well-being in this man, and I wasn't afraid of him. "Oh and my name is Michaela" I said making sure not to tell him my full name.

I know that sometimes my instincts get me into trouble, but they also help me learn much. i would not know as much as I do now if it weren't for my over-curiousness and my instincts. I looked at him waiting for him to reply before I said too much more, I didn't want to bore him with my babbling which I have known to get ahead of myself and not even notice it.