Lost in the city (Coba)

[Jason Luntilla]

5th of Winter, 510 AV

Jason was lost at this point, He had left Caleb to do his own thing so that he could shop for a horse and had gotten lost, and At this point he was lost in the castle and doesn’t really even know which floor he is on. Sitting down on the ground exasperated, he wasn’t going to give up, because at this point he wouldn’t be able to find his way back, but he did need to take a short break.’

Remembering why he never really left his room, because he could never find his way back, He took a pull from his water skin. He will stand up, walk down the hall and find what appears to be a dead end, at this point so frustrated he starts running around frantically, trying to find the Great Bazaar. Eventually on what he thinks is the bottom floor he falls over barely awake and exhausted. He looks around and being in a short hall he slumped his head down and starts to breathe heavily, attempting to stand up he is having difficulty getting his footing, eventually resolving to find his way to the Great Bazaar, even if he has to actually ask someone, which he really doesn’t want to deal with.

He rests there for about 4 minutes and stands up trying to decipher the location in the Castle, sitting down he attempts to concentrate on where he is on the ground floor, not being sure of his exact location so he tries to find his way back to his own home, just getting himself even more hopelessly lost. He must have passed the Great Bazaar 5 times and just not noticed it. He eventually stops in front of a room and waits, hoping that the person will guide him to the Great Bazaar, or someone who sees him will show him how to get there. He is deeply regretting the fact that he has never left his mother’s library when he didn’t have to.

[Coba]

Too antsy to be cooped up in her room, and unwilling after noting the weather to go for another unfortunate walk, she resorted to moving around the castle, aimlessly travelling about the tiers for lack of anything better to do. If she spent much more time without doing anything, she would rip apart her personal effects for boredom. She felt like a chained dog, pacing the outer limits of her leash and gnawing away at whatever came within reach. Up and down, around and around, she kept track of herself through taking rights, walking in circles. Sometimes she walked. Others she jogged, unburdened by pack or coat and having only a couple mizas in her pocket. It was enough to keep her warm, though didn't cause her undue sweat. Going nowhere, faster. It was tedious, but the movement kept her out of undue trouble. Taking a left for once, she explored new territory, though it seemed just the same as the halls she'd been in. Except for one thing. This one was populated by someone who didn't seem to bustle about as everyone else did. That alone interested her, intrigued was her restless, unoccupied mind. She drew closer to the figure, leather boots padding as quietly as a cat upon the stone floor, approaching him from behind with curiosity written plainly in her face, eyes studying, mouth slightly open with her soft breathing and cheeks slightly flushed with the exertion of the last lap she had jogged. "What're you doing, exactly?" She asked with the unabashed manner of someone who has no notion of social delicacies nor cares to learn.

[Jason Luntilla]

“Well first and foremost I am being quite thoroughly lost. I have spent so little time outside of my mother’s library that I can never really find my way around the city. I have always gotten lost rather thoroughly.” He looks at the person, with bright red hair and covered in burn marks on random areas and what appears to be a lot of tattoos. Not really sure how to ask, “Would you be willing to guide me to the Great Bazaar, I would be rather grateful to you for it.”

Looking closely for a few moments he soon realizes that he has been talking to a girl this whole time, He reels back a little bit and laughs to himself for being so quick to jump to conclusion, He will stand up, showing how small he actually is, he’s nervous about this girl, he has never seen them before, which in all truth is not really that much of a surprise, as he has spent very little time outside of his mother’s library.

“By the way, my name is Jacob” He will extend his hand. “I suppose that this is one of the more interesting ways to meet someone, but I think that we could provide use to each other.” Still nervous about this impish little girl he swallows his morals and decides to summon Res in several small needle shaped spikes ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice, He is nervous about this Impish little girl, She seems to be the type that gets into trouble more often than not, in part because she is covered in scars and burn marks, the mark of one of two things, a fire Reimancer or a trouble maker. And either way he has no desire to be in an exposed position around them. Shifting the needles into a visible position they are dark blue and ethereal almost misty in appearance. And almost seem to be wavering out of existence.

[Coba]

A bookworm, lost in his own city. Darn. Not half so exciting as she hoped, but not a quarter of how boring she had feared. "I think I could make it back there. Maybe." She pulled a face. "This is not my city." He was very articulate, and it suited the profession he gave her. A librarian. When he jumped and laughed, he startled her, causing her own body to flinch. He seemed so serious and professional, if a little perplexed, to be laughing. She didn't think she'd done anything odd. The man looked rather leery, much more so then she could understand. No one she meet insofar that she'd wanted to impress upon thought her much of a source of worry, confident they could flick her away like a bug. So this. . . Jason, puzzled her, and it showed. She wasn't even carrying her sword. Glancing down at herself, she tried to pinpoint why he stared so. In her state of undress, she realized that one could see the marks of her hobby, fire dancing, and occasional arson, coupled with the scars and tattoos. That would explain it. This man had little to fear of her. She was feeling particularly. . . nonviolent, today. The whole affair had decided to be made up of awkward silence and bewilderment. When he offered his hand she stared, eyes darting nervously from the limb to his face, trying to find some way to most tactfully to keep out of it's contact. Why did custom demand you touch people all the time? In the end she simply ignored it, shifting her gaze back to his face, she stated simply: "Coba." On his comment about providing useful to each other, she didn't really see how. He needed someone to show him back to the Bazhaar, she needed. . . she didn't know what she needed. Entertainment, she supposed. She blinked once, twice, three times, her eyes focussed not at him but around, looking in bemusement at the apparitions dancing in and out of reality around his head. What the. . ? She had never seen the like of it before, things that looked needles but were without substance. She walked closer to him, leaning in to study that that had caught her interest, close enough to be considered an invasion of space, but far enough that there was no chance of her touching him. Her hands clasped behind her back, her brown eyes wide with wonderment, she walked a circle around him, for the life of her unable to understand what she saw. She held her hands in such a way to prevent her fingers from reaching out to poke at them, deeply desiring to but afraid for the lively hood of her fingers. "Buddy, you got some really weird bugs about you."

[Jason Luntilla]

This Coba girl seems confused and in all honest he was too the first time that he encountered a Reimancer, She had called them bugs, that was one of the most interesting responses that he had ever gotten to him trying to use ice needles. It’s a shame that she wasn’t from the city she seems the type that could get you most places in a city she knew.

Well he didn’t have many other options, seeing as how everyone else had just ignored his exhausted self. So the question now is whether or not this girl would actually help him. He pulled his Res back in and looks around, “what bugs? I don’t see any bugs.” He figured if this girl didn’t know what he was doing and didn’t consider him to be a threat that it was probably a good thing.

He notices that she seems to be confused about him, so he retracts his hand and says, “Will you help me find the Great Bazaar, I am in need of going shopping, I’m likely going to be leaving the area soon, So it would be best advised for me to get a horse, and saddle bags, and a tent.” He will look left and right, “And in all honesty I don’t actually know where I am, so would you be able to help me. If not I should probably continue on my way, otherwise I will continue to be hopelessly lost.”

He will try and walk one way, turn the other way, walk a little way, walk back throw his hands down in exasperation and sigh. Ok so I have spent far too much time in my mother’s library, because I honestly have no clue as to what I should be even looking for, I do need her help. I need to find my way to the Great Bazaar or Caleb will think I look like an idiot.

[Coba]

She didn't pay him much notice as she watched the spikes, like a child confronted with some manner of strange butterfly, until they disappeared. Her naive air gone, replacing it a sense of purpose. The intense, almost yellow gaze flicked sharply back to Jason, serious and interested. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards, some semblance of a smile that was not entirely humour based. No, it was the beginnings of a smile that said bad things happen to people who thought she was an idiot. She might not talk with the most polish, nor keep up with tea time ritual, but she was anything but stupid. Her gut told her that he knew exactly, if not having everything to do with, what she sought answers for. "What are they?" She questioned him, with an tinge of stubbornness that stated she would give nothing up if he did not divulge either. She was quite happy to have the proffered hand retracted, and relaxed some, coming into a more confident tone. "I'll help you. Hell, I'll even help you get your wares." She doubted that a man of his education had the knowledge it took to get decent travelling things, goods that didn't wear out in a week of road life, horses that didn't break down in a day of riding. Which seemed odder still to her. Why would someone, who, by his dress and neatly combed appearance, leave a life of what she would call luxury to take to the dirt of travel? Her jobs were usually based on his kind of class's unwillingness to actually leave their homes and do the work themselves. She didn't ask questions like that though. People could do what the wanted to do, and she'd leave them to their business if they didn't question hers. She watched with a slight smirk as he peddled around a bit, looking for a sense of direction. How on earth would he survive out in the big, librarian eating world? "But first: what were they, and how'd you do it?"

[Jason Luntilla]

“Well walk with me, tell me what you think it was, and I’ll tell you if you were right or not. Because if you don’t understand it one word will be able to explain to you what I was doing with those things.” Magic will at one point come up in conversation but he would rather avoid it now a days, she was new to him and he really wasn’t comfortable telling her about his deepest secrets quite yet. “That would be much appreciated, I’ve been researching the different types of gear that I would probably need but I am not quite sure what all of that would be quite yet.”

He will eventually note that there is no way to get her to help him without answering her first he will look at her, and say “That was probably a random refraction of light from the sweat falling off of my brow.” He then wipes his forehead with his shirt, show her the sweat splotch. And smile, it’s obvious that he’s hiding something, but it would be hard to tell by his face how much he is hiding. He tries to shrug it off, but has a hard time hiding it on his face. He will look up at the torches and try to ignore the intense look that she was giving him, he found it very uncomfortable and somewhat wishes that she would stop that.

“I don’t really understand what is so interesting to you about what you saw floating about my head, and I apologize but I know very little about it. It’s not my field of expertise.” It wasn’t hard to tell that he was lying and did know quite well what it was and how it formed. I hope she doesn’t see right through that it would be annoying having to explain what I was doing with my Res, and what Res is for that matter.

[Coba]

She let out a hiss of exasperation, seeing not much more then riddling in his words. All she wanted was an answer. She watched him fidget and shift under her glare, and with a small smile she relaxed it. As annoying as she found his little contradictions, he hadn't outright refused her, which was a start. He admitted to being responsible one moment, then brushed it off as sweat, showing her the stain as he mopped his brow in some sort of proof. As if. But he had given her a line on which to base some questionings of her own experience, causing her to chew her lip and crease her bow in thought. Graces be with him, he was a terrible liar. She snorted quietly to herself, researching gear indeed. "The basic rules to buying are: If it's some shade of brown, looks like the ugliest, most rudimentary piece of equipment in the entire stall," turning, she walked in the opposite direction, changing course as suddenly as she changed her moods, her walk contained the brisk kind of purpose that suggested the Jason could follow or stay, but if he didn't get his butt in gear she would leave him there. Finishing her sentence and throwing it over her shoulder, she said: "then, you may be on the right track. This way, Jason." As she walked, she descended into quiet thought, trying to think of explanation. She knew that the ghostly things were real, and her brain raced around in circles to make sense of it. She had never. . . But here, she lied to herself as unskilfully as Jason lied to her. She had seen the shimmering part of the air, reflecting light as solids did but still barely in existence, once or twice before. In her memory she called up such instances. She and Leo, cross legged around a pile of tinder, the bitter cold triumphing even her able fingers and vexing their abilities with a flint and steel. Leo was taking his turn with the implements, trying to spark. The air around his hands glimmered slightly, and suddenly the timber curled and heat and caught fire. Leo gave a triumphant laugh, holding up the steel as if that was the real culprit, reaching across to ruffle her hair. And there were others. Pain flashed across her face. "I saw a man once, breath fire in such a way that shouldn't be possible." She saw that same man impaled by spikes that shot from the earth as nothing should. She stopped dead. "Magic."

[Jason Luntilla]

He will look at the red locks of Coba flying off into the distance at a pace that he can barely keep up with, he will say to her, “So what your telling me, is that you want some of the most beat up, and broken equipment in the shop, and then I am getting a good deal, but the brand new, freshly made gear, isn’t any good for me?”

When she stopped in her tracks he knew that something was there, and then she said it “Magic.” So she did know what I was doing, it seems as if this one will have to be watched carefully from now on, she knows what I was doing is magic and I’m going to have to be more careful from now on. Looking up at her, he will smile an impish smile and chortle a little bit, “So you know my little secret now, I would prefer if you kept that particular knowledge to yourself, and the knowledge of how it functions, well let us just say that magic is a powerful ally, and I would rather not put you on the opposing side of it.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on about his magic, and it made him uncomfortable. Magic was a powerful force to be reckoned with, but the right information and knowledge could effectively make him as dangerous as the books he carried in his backpack, knowledge without force behind it. He hoped that he had intimidated her enough that she wouldn’t ask any more questions, because in all truth he had very few answers to give him, and he wishes that he had more.

[Coba]

"Correction: Not broken down, just simple. Always keep it simple. Finer, detailed stuff will fall apart on you before you get three days of travel out of it. Artists go for show, not longevity." She replied, not turning to deliver this mention. She did however, turn to add up affairs as she saw them cross his face. Her expression was cold, impassive, compared to the smile he shot her, making humour out of what she felt was a threat. He bristled, though veiled with jest. She was right. Though her cool satisfaction at knowing she was correct evaporated with the second bit of his speech. . . . knowledge of how it functions. . . Besides the fact she was pretty sure she was just threatened by a man only two inches taller then she, who lived with his mother, she was further confused by the accusation that she knew crap about magic. The only reason she placed it at all was that it fell into the category of things that disobeyed the basic laws of what she understood, by that right forming their own group, based on having seen it before. She blinked, now just at a loss. It was a moment where she didn't know if she should laugh at him, or punch him in the nose. She'd probably be doing him a favour if she broke it, give him some superficial street credibility. In part she was rather flabbergasted; he. . . he. . . threatened her. Magic or no, she knew that any weapon was only as good as the wielder's own reflexes. A muscle worked in her jaw as she ground her teeth, miffed at someone attempting, albeit a poor attempt, to intimidate her. It fundamentally irked her. But she'd seen the way that this manner of magic defied the laws she understood, and had to have some respect for it, and it's bookish commander. In the end she had to let it slide, having a little humour for someone so . . . sheltered to utter such things at someone with her history written all over her. "Don't make an enemy of me." She said, without much in way of emotion in her voice. He would not be warned twice. But on other notes, he knew things that she didn't. Probably knew how to read too. Idiot. Said her constant internal critic and commentator. He's a bloody librarian. Meh. She'd gotten by just fine without booklearning. 'Just fine' being a relative term, the discoloured scarring the had just missed her jugular hid beneath her scarf testament. Brushing away this, she resumed her trail once more, taking a right, three consecutive lefts and traversing a flight of stairs. In the distance she could hear the faint hum of activity that heralded the bazaar. It was then that she decided to put his mind at ease. "You don't need to wave you're magic wand at me to buy my silence. I don't rat."