Autumn 29, 507 AV | Common | Thoughts | NPC |
Naia's time in Nyka could have been more accurately measured in fights than in seasons, with a constant pattern to her scuffles already arising. If nothing else, she was at least consistent. ‘Laviku, please don’t let me run into that sonova-‘
A blood curdling scream from some dozen meters away shook Naia to the bone, her eyes wide and form rigid as she slowly turned and set sights on the source, her view half obstructed by the corner wall to the Svefra’s left, though sight of the bony woman’s form nonetheless caught immediately. It took half a dozen ticks for her to quite register the scene, to take note of how the woman’s body shook, the fierce anger in her glassy eyes, and the water welling in them. “Who?” the word was loud and coarse, everyone in her sights at one point or another thrown a savage look, Naia herself slightly unnerved when the sharp gaze was sent briefly her way.
She was a deer in candle light, frozen in mid motion as the woman continued on her little rampage, the Svefra’s flitting gaze looking left and right as she tried to figure the problem and culprit, the woman then advancing on a nearby man, his hair just on the brink of greying, though no older than Naia’s father, red faced and attempting to make a sound escape.
“You blighted creep!” she accused, following the man as he sought refuge around the corner that Naia herself was peering around, breaking into a sprint a quarter tick too late, the woman’s hand grabbing his shoulder not a half dozen meters before Naia, pulling him back as her other hand recoiled and swung a punch.
A rushed step back on Naia’s part followed, almost knocking over another two spectators, the woman and her son far more entertained than the Svefra, her own mind still boggled as to what in Laviku’s name had just occurred.
“Leashe’s Palm?” murmured a young boy, clinging to his grinning mother, who made no move to cover his gaze as the peeved woman before them took another heavy hit at the man. “Yes, yes, my boy. Lecher’s Palm. That’s why you don’t think bad things about women. We’ll know,” the look the mother threw at the youngin’ was truly wicked, a good humoured laugh bubbling from her lips as she took short note of the wide eyed Svefra before returning to watch the free entertainment.
Nykans were weird.
The boy shuddered, then, his expression one contort with horror, his gaze meeting Naia’s as it widened further, wincing and burying his face into his mother’s skirts, as though eye contact for more than a few mere moments would have him beaten bloody. A groan and whispered complaint from another native passing by pressed Naia to jolt and walk forwards, freeing herself from the palpable tension of situation.
Lecher’s palm. She’d heard of it a dozen times before, but never seen or experienced it for herself.
The thought of it had her shudder, her own reaction likely not too unlike the woman should it have been she herself in her place. She ground her teeth as she made haste for the Main Gate, pressing herself forward as she tried to bait her memory, the gooseflesh that still rippled her arms doing little more than hinder her attempts as her initial intentions fled her mind. The docks. That was where she wanted to go, but was that the place she had in mind when she left?
The gates were in close sights, and her pace slowed to a dawdle as she grew frustrated with herself, her gaze stuck so hard to the ground that when she neared the Gates one of the Monks on guard felt it necessary to give a high pitched whistle, slamming her back into conscious thought and action with a glare and a sharp breath.
She mustered herself tall as she strode forward, feigning that she was not out of sorts when her apparent attention was called, taking a good dozen paces towards the docks as she left the gates, stomach dropping as she slowed to a halt. Right, where was she going?
Expending effort when there was little needed was something the Svefra preferred to avoid, her gaze settling on the stone wall as she examined its grain and build, losing herself once more to thought as she racked her brain for the task she was so determined to defeat.
A blood curdling scream from some dozen meters away shook Naia to the bone, her eyes wide and form rigid as she slowly turned and set sights on the source, her view half obstructed by the corner wall to the Svefra’s left, though sight of the bony woman’s form nonetheless caught immediately. It took half a dozen ticks for her to quite register the scene, to take note of how the woman’s body shook, the fierce anger in her glassy eyes, and the water welling in them. “Who?” the word was loud and coarse, everyone in her sights at one point or another thrown a savage look, Naia herself slightly unnerved when the sharp gaze was sent briefly her way.
She was a deer in candle light, frozen in mid motion as the woman continued on her little rampage, the Svefra’s flitting gaze looking left and right as she tried to figure the problem and culprit, the woman then advancing on a nearby man, his hair just on the brink of greying, though no older than Naia’s father, red faced and attempting to make a sound escape.
“You blighted creep!” she accused, following the man as he sought refuge around the corner that Naia herself was peering around, breaking into a sprint a quarter tick too late, the woman’s hand grabbing his shoulder not a half dozen meters before Naia, pulling him back as her other hand recoiled and swung a punch.
A rushed step back on Naia’s part followed, almost knocking over another two spectators, the woman and her son far more entertained than the Svefra, her own mind still boggled as to what in Laviku’s name had just occurred.
“Leashe’s Palm?” murmured a young boy, clinging to his grinning mother, who made no move to cover his gaze as the peeved woman before them took another heavy hit at the man. “Yes, yes, my boy. Lecher’s Palm. That’s why you don’t think bad things about women. We’ll know,” the look the mother threw at the youngin’ was truly wicked, a good humoured laugh bubbling from her lips as she took short note of the wide eyed Svefra before returning to watch the free entertainment.
Nykans were weird.
The boy shuddered, then, his expression one contort with horror, his gaze meeting Naia’s as it widened further, wincing and burying his face into his mother’s skirts, as though eye contact for more than a few mere moments would have him beaten bloody. A groan and whispered complaint from another native passing by pressed Naia to jolt and walk forwards, freeing herself from the palpable tension of situation.
Lecher’s palm. She’d heard of it a dozen times before, but never seen or experienced it for herself.
The thought of it had her shudder, her own reaction likely not too unlike the woman should it have been she herself in her place. She ground her teeth as she made haste for the Main Gate, pressing herself forward as she tried to bait her memory, the gooseflesh that still rippled her arms doing little more than hinder her attempts as her initial intentions fled her mind. The docks. That was where she wanted to go, but was that the place she had in mind when she left?
The gates were in close sights, and her pace slowed to a dawdle as she grew frustrated with herself, her gaze stuck so hard to the ground that when she neared the Gates one of the Monks on guard felt it necessary to give a high pitched whistle, slamming her back into conscious thought and action with a glare and a sharp breath.
She mustered herself tall as she strode forward, feigning that she was not out of sorts when her apparent attention was called, taking a good dozen paces towards the docks as she left the gates, stomach dropping as she slowed to a halt. Right, where was she going?
Expending effort when there was little needed was something the Svefra preferred to avoid, her gaze settling on the stone wall as she examined its grain and build, losing herself once more to thought as she racked her brain for the task she was so determined to defeat.
