Try not to miss me when I'm gone (Altaira Readva)

by **Bolivar** on November 2nd, 2013, 1:49 am

46th of Fall, 513 A.V.

There was talk of a kelvic new to the ways of Syliras in one of the many herbalism stores Syliras had to offer. Which meant a few problems with integrating themselves with the other citizens of Syliras. Sent at the request of his patron Bolivar found himself leading his horse through the numerous districts patrolling through the morning until finally the rumblings of the city's first workers started to arrive on the streets.

With that it looked like it was time for Bolivar to visit the store and see if it was open. Being able to convey good virtues and mannerisms was considered good training to be a knight according to Ser Theron. "Try it out. If you can easily teach this kelvic how to act you've grasped Syliras ways well. If not, you might want to delve into your studies more squire Bolivar."

Shrugging slightly at the small speech given Bolivar rode his horse straight to the front of Stormhold Salves. Not really one for the miscellaneous Bolivar found himself staring at whatever wares they had to offer. Unsure if the place was already open Bolivar would simply wait until either the kelvic or storekeeper would arrive.

by **Altaira Readva** on November 3rd, 2013, 12:24 pm

48 Autumn, 513 AV

She left early. She would have given herself props should she have been able to wake up at such a time on her own accord – but it was more of a fact that she could no longer sleep. She had gotten a full night’s rest, of that she had no doubt, but she had half the day prior on break, and had shifted some in her free time. It was from dusk till early morning that she had slept, and there had come a point when she could no longer stare at the ceiling, and rather chose to ready for work and brave the streets.

She was rather glad of her decision, and was considering to make leaving at such the time more of a common occurrence. The only ones she saw out were those with places to go, those who had market stalls to set up, or stores to sweep or clean. There were none of the gawking, uncouth or hubris kinds. None of the type that would buy a kelvic as a pet, waste what they had or drink their lives away; they were all far too busy for such a thing, they had priorities and lives they structured around them. For one of the few times since her arrival, she didn’t wholly wish for Avanthal. There would always yearn for the respect she garnered there, of how people seemed to understand that life was fleeting and acted accordingly, with the nature of changing colour of their eyes promoting much honesty; but at least in the crisp morning, she could at least delude herself in thinking that those of Syliras were at least somewhat similar.

She took in a deep breath, and set her sights forward, moving carefully along the route that she had quickly become used to. Against her better judgment, she chose not to avoid the store with the leering man, a slither of hope within her wishing him not to be present, a larger portion prodding her to be polite should she see him, with the greater part of her seething and boiling with ire and desiring a cause to her emotion.

She didn’t know his name, nor his occupation or skills. And she doubted that he knew hers, but she hated him. Whether it was an instinct within her that screamed danger or distrust, she wasn’t quite sure, but she would bet that the feeling was mutual. Although, there was also the fact that in her naivety, Altaira had unwittingly caused quite the disturbance within his store on her was to her second day of work, but she tried to move on wrong doings. She figured the old man should have been grateful to have received an earnest apology; she only gave them out once in a blue moon, and she thought that such things ought be weighted more than silver. As she walked by, she shot a lasting gaze within the store, almost falling herself as she saw the older man shoot her an arrogant look of great joy.

She balled her hands into fists, locking her jaw as she pressed on. Oh, how she wanted to wipe that smirk off of his weathered fat face. She pressed her lips into a fine line, and moved forward at an increasing pace, with the number of people present in the district beginning to marginally increase, and her patience for dealing with any wearing thin. Still, she tried to polite, like she was minding her own business and going about her day, but her expression even in the absence of all emotion was often said to be accusatory, at best.

When she neared the store she saw an unwelcomed guest. If she were honest, she would say that she wasn’t sure if she was more displeased by the horse that stood out like a sore thumb, as noble as it looked, its presence loomed, or whether the rather short, cross looking man that stood by it. They looked official, and Altaira felt a pit in her stomach seed. He seemed to notice her as she approached, but she took the liberty of being the first to speak. “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” She forced a look that was at least something of attempted politeness, clenching her fists behind her back as she fought the urge to march back down the pavement, and give the man what was coming to him. She coaxed herself to be kind and courteous, and managed to drop her fists and soften her hard look with several, deep breaths. It also helped that once she’d calmed herself, she was able to pick out the finery that was uniform of the man in front of her, and the myriad of ways it differed from Sylirian knights.

by **Bolivar** on November 4th, 2013, 7:57 pm

"Sir? Looks like we are getting off to a good start here."

Perhaps it they did not tell them of his arrival? This was part of their procedure the squire imagined. To have their trainees well versed in speech seemed as important as battle tactics.

Though the words seemed genuine enough the woman seemed skittish. Bolivar assumed that this was the woman he needed to talk to. The store keeper he imagined knew how to conduct herself. Though was this the normal response given to squires within the city? This was the first time Bolivar even noticed any air of discomfort from the citizenship.

"You are speaking to squire Bolivar of patron knight Sir Theron. With whom am I speaking with?"

The name was already given to the squire but he had to ask as dictated by his formal instruction. Though if she lied and made things interesting the squire wondered what exactly he could do given the position.

"Very good. I am here to talk to the manager and a new arrival to the store. A little bird told me of a special sort of bird that now works here. I'd like to speak with her alone for a bit."

by **Altaira Readva** on November 4th, 2013, 11:58 pm

“Altaira Readva,” She said, finding her stomach begin to knot once more. The man then announced his intention, the knot within her writhing and twisting the more he spoke. He even knew base species. Did even the Mistress know that? She took in a quick breath, and glanced towards the store, scanning the shelves and seeking movement from within. It wasn’t often that Mistress Blackleaf wasn’t early in store; perhaps business had called her out. But if that were the case, then surely Aoren would be in?

A sigh escaped her lips, and she moved to the door, trying the handle. “You might…” She began, frowning as the door appeared to be locked. She wasn’t trusted with the keys, and she wasn’t surprised at such a precaution – she was new and inexperienced, and surely not to be trusted with the keys. “Have to…” She trailed, slowly gaining her confidence, and surmounting her creeping fear of reprimand as she tried the door once more.

She gave a grunt and a sigh, resting her head on the door frame. She pressed her lips into a fine line. If she were in some severe form of trouble, which she thought to be most likely, she wasn’t too sure she knew how to get out of it. If not? Then what a lovely waste of time. She turned and cleared her throat, speaking what she’d tried to say. “I am so sorry,” She gave a cursory glance to the store behind her, giving it a final once over. “I think we’re both a little be early.”

She scratched the back of her head, before adding. “Is this something that we may begin here, or is-” She let her words hang in the air, spotting the familiar figure make her way up towards the store. There was a knowing look to her, and Altaira wasn’t sure if she was pleased or annoyed that she, herself, had not been forewarned of the meeting. Out of respect, she gave a polite dip of her head towards the Mistress, expression telling more than words could hope achieve.

All four of the woman’s hands were full, and Altaira felt the need to walk to meet her, taking two of the largest bags. “Thank you, and good morning, Altaira,” She began, before fishing the keys from her pocket and addressing the squire, making her way towards the door “Good morning to you, as well. I’m Sahfri Blackleaf, the mistress of this place. Please, do come inside. I apologise for my delay.” The Mistress entered first, with Altaira hanging back for a moment, gesturing for Bolivar to enter ahead of her.

by **Bolivar** on November 5th, 2013, 6:24 pm

Thoughts :

The way this woman was acting it was as if this was how the knights would normally react.

Though I admit it would be interesting to see it once...

Pushing the thought aside Bolivar nodded solemnly. Being late wasn't grounds for capital punishment. At least he didn't think it was. He'd have to check later just to be sure for next time.

Watching the quick exchange between shopkeeper and assistant Bolivar quietly mused how well mannered this kelvic in particular seemed. She seemed nothing like how the squire was lead to believe so far. Seeming more like a regular human being rather then some sort of animal inside. The true self perhaps being pushed out to survive? That seemed too much a strain for Bolivar to do himself but here it was. A kelvic so well mannered Bolivar wondered why exactly he was sent at all.

"Pleased to meet you madam. I am in no hurry in particular."

Raising a knowing grin at Altaira Bolivar shook his head at her request.

"You first. I don't want you running off the moment I take my eyes off you now do I? I'd be a waste on both out parts. Me not meeting a kelvic and you not meeting a representative of the knights."

oocCare to set the mood of the store and how we are gonna talk turkey? Thanks in advance

by **Altaira Readva** on November 5th, 2013, 10:00 pm

He was polite enough to the mistress, she found, almost immediately policing the man's behaviour. If he didn't show someone of Mistress Blackleaf's caliber the proper respect, than he'd get none from either woman in return. So, for the most part, she didn't quite mind the man.

Of course, that was only how Altaira felt within the first few moments, with the manner in which she herself was addressed quickly turning her sour. She gave the man a sorry smile, nodding in understanding. "I see you are yet to gain the confidence to handle a mere, runaway kelvic. Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be at a level to handle someone as simple as myself in a few season's time." She didn't wait for a response, but gave the squire a look that screamed 'try me, I dare you.' She preferred a battle of wits over that of fists, anyway - though she was more competent in the later.

The chime of the bell as she entered the store almost completely purged her of her bitter thoughts, with the room immediately enveloping her. She was rather surprised to notice that it was a whole new array of scents that greeted her, with those that were often weak showing to be the strongest, and vice versa. She took a cursory glance around the store, ensuring that Bolivar entered after her as her gaze brushed over the shelves and cupboards, noticing those that she herself had straightened and tidied, and feeling the slightest bit proud of her work.

In her pretense of combing over the store, she quickly compiled herself a list of what was to be done about the place, pinpointing which of the corners had garnered cobwebs, and the fine layer of dust that was beginning to gather upon several of the lesser used shelves. She turned a different corner to Mistress Blackleaf, choosing a route to the main desk that allowed her more room to carry the bags, the aisle of her choice being one that held mostly dry ingredients and the powder bases.

It took within herself some courage not to keenly examine the contents of the bags she carried, making out the scents of oils and other basic components. Another turn and she was greeted by the Mistress, who cordially stood behind the front counter. "Put those into the back room, if you will, and put away what you know," She directed, gesturing at the half opened door, and the pile of bags that already sat on a bench, obviously readying herself to speak with the squire instead.

Sahfri gave her undivided attention to the squire, one pair of arms folded, the other relaxed on her hips. She made it as polite as possible to give the squire the message that he had until Altaira finished the task she'd be given to speak to herself directly. "Is there anything in particular you wish to discuss before addressing my employee?" She asked, ensuring that she made it clear that while in store, Altaira was her own responsibility - but that she wasn't daft or child, and was not to 'babied' about her misconduct. Though, the more Sahfri observed of the squire, the less she felt the assertion was needed. "Altaira will take a mere few chimes with the task given", She gestured to the kelvic, who was more than happy scurrying about within the back room, "But this will give us a moment of privacy, should you see it best to use it." Sahfri couldn't say that the situation was alien to her, but neither was it so common she knew exactly what the current preceding called for.

OOC :

by **Bolivar** on November 6th, 2013, 1:39 am

"Careful I might've been insulted by that. Watch that tongue of yours."

A smug smirk touched Bolivar's face finally revealing the kelvic side of Altaira. Granted it was just sass but it was mildly disappointing that the squire got what he wanted. No, not he wanted. What he expected. Though he was baiting it out. Such discrimination wasn't going to bode well with her eh? Well what could he work with knowing that.

It was a typical store setup from what Bolivar had seen so far. Granted observations should not only be focused on the kelvic herself but the mistress that tended to the store herself. It would be a lie to say every storekeeper was honest and this little check up was not only for the kelvic to report on but the store madam herself. Though if madam Blackwing knew about this she gave no indication. If she did not have anything to hide there this wouldn't be a problem right?

"Oh? Well nothing besides the what is expected really."

The knowing look on the squire's face didn't really offer any insight with the madam. A solemn nod followed as Bolivar found himself checking off the shopkeeper. He was too inexperienced to warrant any real information from her. Mildly stronger with a limited capacity of wit was the squire's description to those farther along then him.

"Yes well...I'm sure you have everything well under control here. Just a word with Miss Readva so I can give an honest description of her."

"An honest description."

The tone spoke volumes of her suspicion towards the squire. She was onto him, this time making it quite apparent.

"That's correct. An honest one. You have my word."

"Anything else?"

Looking back at Miss Blackleaf's extra set of arms Bolivar thought it better not to raise the issue as he pulled himself back to a stand.

"No? Very well then. Altaira? Come and tell the nice squire about yourself won't you?"

by **Altaira Readva** on November 6th, 2013, 8:35 am

By the time Altaira emerged from the room, she was in a mood vastly different than when she'd entered, and she gave the Mistress and sorry smile. She still had a low opinion of the smug squire on the other end of the counter, but in terms of general feelings, she had improved greatly. Yep. Cleaning was her comfort job, though it was also one that had her guilty conscious get the better of her, and she half wondered if the Mistress knew that. She gave a pressed smile to the two of them, pausing about a meter away, already dreading the impending battle of words with the squire.

She occupied herself by the words she'd just heard. Was she supposed to come up with a hundred facts about herself, then and there? Or was the ordeal to come something more direct? And was she supposed to pretend that she heard little of the conversation that had taken place? Before she had much time initiate the questionnaire, Mistress Blackleaf slid from behind the counter, gesturing with one of her hands for the two to carry on. She gave Altaira a firm, somewhat expectant, look, before disappearing behind a closed, backroom door.

"We best speak in soft tones," She said, eyes still lingering on the door. "We'll disturb her, otherwise." She sighed and turned back to the squire, coaxing herself not to give too much snark to the man, and to have herself fall deeper into her little pit of self loathe. He was polite to the mistress, not explicitly so, but still far more than he was to herself. So he at least knew that Sahfri was deserving of respect. That gained him a few, precious, bonus points, in her book. But she felt that she was still rock bottom in his.

Part of her wanted to apologise, part of her wanted to tell him he could stick his 'honest opinion' bull up his expletive. "I'd say I'm sorry," She began, not really knowing where she was going with her words. "But that would probably make me sound like a suck up." She ran through the situation in her head, picturing someone in her place apologising in earnest to someone who they had just found was to give his honest opinion on them, and frowned, folding her arms. "I mean it would, wouldn't it? It'd sound plastic and horrid, and more like a cheap ploy than a genuine feeling?" She was half asking for his opinion, half simply needing to speak her own concerns to fully understand them.

She tilted her head and gave another confused expression, before shaking it in dismissal. There were a number things that she could very much understand, like the desire to want to know and control threats. Emotions were hard, on the other hand, and she envied those who knew how to speak of them plainly. "Anyway, I doubt you want me to sit down and give you my life story; Gods know I could go on for days about it." She gave a small smile at the thought, but brushed it off quickly. So far, she liked him better when he didn't talk -- whether he was actually listening to her, or not.

by **Bolivar** on November 6th, 2013, 1:31 pm

“You want us to talk softly? Only for the mistress's sake?”

Finding the thought amusing enough to croon Bolivar quickly stopped himself remembering something rather unpleasant with the particular action. It didn't matter even bothering with the kelvic anyways.

The slight jibe probably going over the kelvic's head anyway.

She talked for a time. Enough for the squire to get why the knights sent him in the first place. It was already becoming apparent but he would stay silent until the situation demanded it. Yes he was the perfect fit for this job because frankly he was the most direct when it came to calling others out.

“It would certainly help me feel better. That's what matters here apparently. Though personally it doesn't really matter to me. Other people you might want to baby them. It's the empty notion behind it that's of utmost importance.”

That was right, right? Ever since coming to Syliras he would constantly be bombarded by human nuances and persistent mother henning when it came to each other's emotions. To impart that wisdom to another not quite used to the way of the land gave the squire some form of personal recognition.

“Go ahead. If that's what you want to talk about bleed your heart out. Or was it pour your heart out. No matter, I am in no hurry.”

Contrary to what he had just said Bolivar looked around obviously not thrilled about the idea. Resting his head on his open palm Bolivar didn't quite looked to be paying much attention.

by **Altaira Readva** on November 8th, 2013, 11:49 pm

She hadn't really expected him to respond, given the soft jab that he'd voiced, but she was glad to hear another's opinion on the matter. An apology will serve well to aid in the repair of damaged feelings, but sincerity behind the words are key. She half knew most of it already, but found herself more interested in the words that accompanied the answer. She gave a piercing look to his features, gaze raking over the make of his wear. It was familiar, that was for sure, but her most recent journeys were still a blur and chain of events in her mind.

Bolivar went on to tell her to speak of what ever she wanted, enthusiasm less than exuberant. "Careful," She mused, watching her own tone. The last thing she wanted was to rile him, and be the cause further snide remarks. Of course, if he was to start of his own accord, then that was a completely different story. "If you act too excited, I might think you willing to listen to me prattle on about the first time I weeded snow plants in Avanthal, or the time when my sister and I had a fight and she almost swallowed me whole." She gave a small giggle at herself in thought of her last mention, head dropping down to hide her small smile. It was true that she was barely a year old at the time, but she still knew not what had possessed her to think that taking flight when arguing with a feline kelvic was a good idea. It was a good thing her father was yet to leave for the watch, she might have been a meal, otherwise.

She took in a deep breath, and let her gaze wonder about the store. She wasn't all too sure of what she was to say, what stories would give the squire what he was looking for. Basics were useless, she imagined. He already knew her name and her race, so there was little that needed to be said, she'd imagined. "Right," She said softly, finally deciding on the first slither of information to give, taking Mistress Blackleaf's seat when she heard the sound of movement and work in the backroom. "Herbalism." She said simply, before giving a thoughtful look. "I'm a herbalist here, because that's what I was in Avanthal. Well, sort of. We ddin't have much in the ways of plants, given the blistering cold of the place." She wasn't sure of what he knew of home city, and watched his expression with scrutiny - hoping to catch a look that would mean that she'd need to further explain or move on.

"Technically, my house was Whitevine, myself and my brothers and sisters were a bit of a special case. For lack of a better word, we were seen as permanent guests, and readily accepted into the houses of our choosing." She wasn't sure if she was to elaborate further, but thought that perhaps she'd best take advantage of the squires priors words. "My father serves on the Ice Watch, and my sister has aspirations to join once she is competent. When our mother passed, he preferred to have us raised in a House, than by each other in his absence. He visited often, though. For a while it was tradition to share a meal at least once per week. It kept us all close, for the most part." There was a bit of a coarseness to her tone by the end of her words, and she took in a shaky breath.

It wasn't often that she spoke of Avanthal, and there were times when she forgot why she left, missing how people quite simply understood. The kelvic were an integral part of society, and she wasn't treated as though she had two different sides - her rudeness or negative traits weren't passed off as the 'animal' in her, nor were her virtues not specific to loyalty seen as her 'human' instincts shining through. She was simply who she was, human and animal alike. There was no need to watch herself, or divide her personality to suit with whom she spoke. But then she'd recall her reasoning, and find herself bitterly aware of her situation. Even if she were to return home, nothing would be the same as it used to be. Part of her hated herself for not staying and pretending that nothing had changed, the other part of her was inherently happy with her choices.

"What about you?" She asked, not sure as to whether or not she'd get an answer. Though, Bolivar had surprised her once, and she wondered if he'd do so again. "Why did you choose to take the road to Knighthood? You're not Syliras born, either?" She tried to make it more of a conversation than judgment session, though she wasn't particularly sure if Bolivar was keen on doing the same.

oocSorry for my lateness! D: Just finished up my final exams! I ended up writing quite some bit to try and make up for it -_- Sorry about that!

Completed Try not to miss me when I'm gone (Altaira Readva)