Completed The Happy Ever After

[Amolina]

~ Amolina Moletta ~ Timestamp: 26th of Summer 513 AV Life had been hard lately. Amolina had spent lots of time wondering what would become of her. What would happen to her ? Would she live to be old, or was she soon going to die ? And were things going to stay painfully complicated for ever, or would everything be sorted out one of those days in the near future ? She had many questions and few answers. Mirror, mirror on my wall – she looked into her mirror and watched her own masked face. A layer of appearance over her make up, that was just another layer over her face, which was a layer over other layers, of the woman that was Amolina Moletta. And at the core, furthest inside, what would she find if she peeled away the layers ? Did she, Amolina herself, the true her, exist in there, secretly, like a pearl hidden in it’s shell, or would she only find an empty space where something should have been but couldn’t be found ? This was the kind of questions she had never spent time on before her near death in spring, but she seemed to think of it a lot nowadays. Did she exist and in that case, what was the meaning with her existence? Did it have a purpose? Or was it only a joke and Rhysol was laughing so hard that he nearly passed out? If Rhysol existed that was. If a god is totally silent forever, does this mean the whole god is nothing but a hoax and you are simply being exploited by the people acting as the gods chosen ? That question was dangerous to even think of in a city like Ravok, and Amolina had certainly not used to think things like that, but nowadays she did. Death had visited her in Spring, measured her up and left her to live for yet an unknown time. But it would sooner or later come back to collect her and add her to the legions of the forgotten ones, that had once been living, breathing, dreaming people in this world. And so her only life would be added to the big numbers of eternal nothingness. Albeit she had survived and everything went on for good and for bad, this insight remained with her and worked at her mind and at her soul, her dreams and fears and everything she was. She had discovered that life was not eternal and her days were counted. Like she hadn't known that ! But truth was she had not known ...not really, not like now. It had become important to her to find out what this limited time of hers would bring her. Would she simply live here for a while, in her small cubicle in the NHC complex, like an anonymous bee in a hive full of bees? Would this be all? She went out for a stroll in the always so pleasant sun of Ravok, in order to try to forget her troublesome thoughts for a while. Crossing the Nitrozian Plaza she looked at people, shops, stands, and all the things that were going on. Everyone seemed to be busy and on their way to important things somewhere. The actress was a medium tall woman with dark brown hair put up an intricate style, dressed in a violet silk dress of classical and impersonal design. The upper part of her face was covered by a black silk mast with bronze embroideries. It was one of those days when she felt most comfortable hiding behind the silk and not needing to face the world.

[Amelia Cross]

Amelia’s job had always been a bit of a mystery. She had never really bothered to understand the chosen trade as much as she should and so when she read someone their fortune, it was never a known pattern. Just recently she had begun mixing up the layouts she had known for years, thanks to Tia’s teachings, and figuring out new ways of putting the cards down, to interact with each individual more and more. But with each of these unique readings performed, she seemed to be drained of her own identity more and more.

The girl would be caught thinking about people she had done a reading for, more and more. It would all be like a nightmare. The lives she had lied about, so many deaths she would not mention but haunt her. So many lies to make others smile, just because she saw a history too sad, and wanted to brighten up someone’s mind. Lies, lies and more lies she would tell to bout men and women, young and old. One would think, enough is enough! The common sense would tell them, to stop and be honest. But she couldn’t, the times she had spat out an ugly truth was when she would sense the horror in them…or was tiered of lies. There were enough of that, even more than lies. But as Amelia’s mother always said, one lie overpowers a hundred truths. If that was true, Amelia’s whole lifetime was not long enough to erase the lies.

And just now, she had earned a hundred more truths to be told, as she had lied to a slave, a slave who was blindly in love with her master. She couldn’t really make out what the master was like, was he of importance or not. But she saw the girl have more than enough bruises on her skin and that she was not threated with care or even common understanding. If she had said, that the child she carries under her hearth, would be the reason for her to be forced away from him, she would have killed either the slave…or the child. She knew, that the best she could have done was to tell the truth, that her master is nothing but scum and she is worth less to him, than his own nail clippings. But she couldn’t. Was it for the best? Would something change if the girl was motivated? Amelia always hopped it would be like that. That was how she excused herself for her sins…saying it was for the best.

One way or the other, the slave had left and Amelia was now of to find a new victim, customer or prey. Really, call them how you like…for Amelia they were just means of earning money, nothing else. If she tried hard enough, to ignore the nightmares they would bring upon her.

She stood up from the bench she had just now used for the reading and began walking around. A painted smile on her face. She had to hide, if someone saw your anger, disgust or sadness, they turned away. Amelia didn’t want that, so a porcelain white skin and red lips were her mask. And speaking about masks, the girl couldn’t ignore the one she saw walking along the paths of the Nitrozian Plaza. She couldn’t tell apart much from where she was, but she saw that it was a woman with a dress colored in a vivid purple color. She didn’t appear to be too tall, but no, it was not the small features that made her see the woman. It was the fact she was wearing a mask. And not like Amelia or her father, who wore masks of emotions and personas, she wore a true mask made of a black material. Truly worth to investigate.

Shuffling the cards with clearly expressive gestures, attracting the attention of a few people, she approached the woman. Just a few steps away, she called ”is a hidden face, the trade of a hiding soul?” her voice not coming off dangerous, it was soft as usual ”Or is it a sign of confusion? Let me clear out the confusion, or guide you to your escape…just a few silvers and your fortune will be laid before your feet” the black haired girl said, bowing her head.

[Amolina]

White skin, red mouth, black hair. A mask was painted on the fortune teller’s face, an artificial layer of makeup, impressive in it’s combination of simplicity and total concealment of what was beneath. Amolina looked at it with sincere appreciation. Perhaps she would try this style one of those days. Her dark brown was not the deep black colour of the fortune teller’s hair, but in her experience, people often saw what they expected to see and disregarded the rest – and a truly dramatic face painting tended to draw people’s attention from other things, like nuances in the colour of dark hair, or the exact length or build of a person. She watched the fortune teller and an interesting idea came alive in the art-loving actress part or Amolina’s brain. How would it be to impersonate this fortune teller, wear the same make up as she was wearing, copy her movements and her way of speaking, occasionally be like a secret twin sister and wear her appearance and personality ? It would be creative theatre art, an installation, a mystical performance in the streets of Ravok! The idea filled her with a weird sense of wonder and euphoria. It felt like all sorts of truly intriguing, magical, interesting things could happen if she put on the mask of another and pretended to be her. Enigma, illusion, confusion, delusion. Black mask, white mask. You are me and I am you. If they shifted into each other’s clothes and masks, who would be able to tell who was who, under the layers of make and silk that they showed to the world? The two of them seemed to be very nearly same height. The differences in their appearance would be small, quite small. In Amolina’s brain a new and inspiring project had been born. She smiled, her unpainted mouth curving, her light blue eyes shining and glittering trough the slits in the embroidered black silk that covered the upper part of her face. It couldn’t hurt to get her fortune told, she thought. She had pretty many questions on her mind and besides she could observe the fortune teller in detail and learn more about her way of speaking, moving and behaving. Perhaps, later at some point, if they turned out to get on well and the fortune teller seemed to be open for experimental theatre, she could even dare to share her exiting ideas with this girl. “Yes” she said enthusiastically. “I really would need this. But here, in public, in the plaza? I don’t know. Perhaps we could move to a calmer and more private place, like a café with few guests, or a calm spot at the side of one of the canals?”

[Amelia Cross]

The way this woman looked at her, Amelia had to admit, it felt odd. The Cross was known by the people closer to her, that she examined and studied everyone in the smallest details. She would look at every bit of their face and how their lips moved when they spoke. Amelia would try to guess as much as she could from just their manner of walking and their clothing. The words coming from them, she would put it all together as a puzzle. But she had trouble remembering the last time someone paid that much attention to her, to every detail in her. And while she was unsure, she had a good guess that the look this woman gave her was just like that. A look that was meant to study her. Needless to say, Amelia felt too exposed for her liking.

And then her voice, the woman’s voice felt nice to the ear. She must have had it trained. She spoke clearly, and it made Amelia wonder what her trade was. She would go for artist if needed to answer the question, but not just any artist. A performer of dance, didn’t have the need to develop their vocal chords, just like a painter. So she would say a singer, or maybe an actress…might even be a story teller, though she had seen little of that trade around Ravok…so maybe Poet or Actress…definitely, something between the two.

Regarding the question as a whole, it made sense, though not a lot of people ever asked it. Most were either too eager to find out their fortune to actually bother, or too skeptical and would want Amelia to prove her skills on the spot. ”Would the lady be shy, of the ears our lake has?” she didn’t tease, just joked in a way that was short and didn’t really ask for an answer, as she continued speaking short after ”Please, follow me” the girl gestured with her hand towards a café. It was a simple place, but Amelia wouldn’t want to go to any place fancy, not because she was worried her client couldn’t pay, that didn’t cross her mind at all. She just knew that her father’s friends might be in more fancy places.

With an occasional look at the woman, once they reached the location she came to notice a bench, that was empty and clearly no in a busy location. It would now be up for destiny. Amelia pulled out two cards. The one with the sun, would mean they stayed on the bench. The one with the Priestess, that they went to the café ”pick one of the cards, and let your won fortune tell you, where would we be staying for your reading” the offer was simple, and really had nothing to do with the cards or her fortune, it was like flipping a coin, just looked a bit more fancy.

oocso, its up to you what we go for, feel free to have Amelia follow you to whatever location you prefer

[Amolina]

~ Amolina Moletta ~ Amolina had studied the way the fortune teller had taken the two cards from the deck with a graceful, beautiful little movement that made it seem like something of special meaning and importance was taking place. The girls voice was soft like a butterfly’s wing, her pale face enigmatic. She was like a porcelain doll come alive, so decorative and frail. Amolina tried, very cautiously, to take on the fortune teller’s body language and move her own hand in the same very graceful way when she picked one of the cards. Despite how small and brief this movement was, it felt odd to move like she was someone else, but interesting. There was a picture of a woman on the card that Amolina picked. She handed it to the fortune teller. After looking at the card a bit, the girl nodded like to herself, like in secret understanding of something only she would see and know, and went to the small café. Amolina followed behind her, saying nothing, trying her best to discreetly copy the way the girl walked. It was a very simple cafe, with outdoors tables near the water – they sat on somewhat rickety chairs at a table with thin, spindly legs. This was actually the same place where Amolina had been sitting that time the weird dirty girl had passed by and she had tossed her a piece of bread…the memory of the unkempt being passed trough her mind like a ghost picture and she felt an echo of the odd feeling she had felt that day. She stopped the memory there as she became aware that her mind had been straying. Happy that the café was so simple that it didn’t have anything expensive to sell, she ordered an iced, sweet and spicy herb tea for them both. The barmaid put the glasses on the table and made a small smile when Amolina tipped her with only a few copper mizas. Their eyes meeting briefly in silent, mutual understanding of how it was to work lots for scant pay. She looked at the fortune teller. “I’m wondering about many things in my life” she said, speaking softly, just like the fortune teller did. Dream-like, she thought to herself, searching for words to describe how what she experienced. The very soft voice of the girl had sort of a dream-like quality. This thought in turn stirred memories and other thoughts. “And I have been thinking a lot about a dream I had. It’s so odd – I remember it so clearly. The strangest things keep coming back to me …” Amolina stopped herself and laughed, surprised by her own words, and took a very small nip of her iced tea. What was she thinking of, speaking like this ? “Oh, I’m babbling am I? I just don’t know how I’m supposed to do now, I never had my fortune told before. You will have to guide me.” While she spoke she studied the fortune teller's face. It was as unreadable as an exquisite mask of porcelain. That, she thought was an art in itself - to keep this constant pleasantness bordering on lack of visible expression. There was something special with it, albeit she wasn’t able to find the proper words. She smiled. She would wait expectantly, to see what the girl would ask her or tell her. But even more she wanted to study the way she sat, the way she drank her iced tea (if she did) how she would go about the fortune telling itself, how she would speak and move, which kind of words she would use, how her hands would handle the deck of cards …

[Amelia Cross]

The card of the priestess made it clear, the two would go in the café. Amelia lead the way, no words in the air as the girl followed her. The two settled on the outdoor tables, the noises from around hem giving them a nice cover. If the Cross was asked, did she really care about the chatter and fortune reading being a bit discreet and muted; the answer would be a firm no. She had little to no interest in others hearing what she saw. The sole reasons for her paying attention to this now, was the fact her customer didn’t seem to be that keen on letting others hear or even notice her having a reading.

She observed in silence how the barmaid made their way to the two. She had no intention to actually order anything, water at most. Amolina decided to order tea for bout of them, the fortune teller was a fan of tea, but not iced tea. Still, she knew how to be polite and thanked the woman for the polite gesture. ”and she even tipped her, talk about manners” while Amelia’s manners were nice, she usually avoided tipping, especially in places like this. She wasn’t a cheapskate, she was just not found of paying extra for something the people are already paid to do. The barmaids aren’t nice to you because you seem appealing or welcoming; they are because they get paid for it. Then again, it’s one of those little quirks of hers.

Amelia kept her still smile and oh so mellow gaze steady, she didn’t let the porcelain mask crack even once as she was listening to the actress. A frown scares people off, a smile incites them, but a bright smile intimidates and makes them feel uncomfortable. Those were the rules she followed in life. ”Don’t fear, I will guide you” she said with the natural, light ring to her voice ”but please, do tell me about your dream, if it’s in your mind, it must be important…I promise, I'm a good listener” and Amelia didn’t believe even one word she said. She just wanted to have the girl speak of her dream, to make the readings link closer to her. She wanted the woman to feel comfortable and as if Amelia really saw what was asked from her.

In order to keep the little and faint act going, Amelia also picked up the glass of tea. But she just couldn’t so casually take a sip of it, she had to examine the color and consistency as she swirled it in her hand. She had to look at how clean the glass was, and needles to say her look lid catch a few stains. But she recognized those as water stains, she always wondered how those found their way on things though. Bringing the glass closer to her lips, she let her eyes close for a brief moment as she sniffed it. Letting the spicy smell tingle her senses, she was always a fan of sweet things above spicy, but what comes free you can’t turn down. So she sipped the tea, slowly. She wouldn’t come here for it again, that was clear.

”I can tell you a lot of things, just tell me, what are the ones you seek, so I know what I have to do”

[Amolina]

The fortune teller's face looked like there had never been a frown on it. It seemed to have a built in eternal, mild and pleasant smile. The lightness of her voice and the soft way she spoke matched it perfectly, and the overall impressions was something smooth like velvet and silk and delicate like a rare and fragile flower. The girl didn’t just take the glass of iced tea and drink. She took the glass slowly and seemed to study it carefully before she finally tasted it in a very neat and well behaved way. Amolina memorized it all in detail. She itched to try this out. The fortune teller’s style was nice, fine, delicate and dainty as a flower, soft as velvet and silk, exquisite like a statuette of porcelain. It was like she was all pliant, graceful softness and perfect pleasantness. The fortune teller asked pleasantly to be told more about the dream, saying it must be important. And then she waited silently for Amolina’s answer, with peaceful patience and politeness and the constant mild smile. Amolina felt compelled to smile back in the same mild way and be very soft and pleasant too. She took her own glass of iced tea and held it the same way Amelia had held her glass, studied it the same way Amelia had studied hers. This made her tell the pleasant parts of her dream and leave the grotesque and perhaps horrific parts out. It seemed just so totally wrong to tell this declicate being things like “A shimmering, floating monster tore open it’s chest, in great agony. It tore out it’s living heart and told me to devour it and kill it if I liked. But when I tried to give it back it crafted a necklace of it and hung it around my neck.” In the pictures she recalled of the dream it was interesting and had a feeling of sacred truth to it, but when she tried to put words on this it came out horrible, transformed to a quite messy and disgusting process. In the memories of the dream it all had a totally different quality though. But she felt very sure she couldn’t express that. She had also swallowed, or rather, gulped down, a river of tears. This too seemed too grotesque to mention to the delicate flower sitting with her at the table. So she didn’t say it. Right now she wanted to be as polite and smooth and ladylike as Amelia was. “I dreamt that a very beautiful translucent being rescued me when I fell into a stream. And there was music and we danced in the sun” she said instead. When she only picked these parts of her dream it was easy to find words. It sounded sweet, cute and nice. Pleasant, soft and light. It wasn’t disturbing the pleasant atmosphere. “One thing I’m wondering about is my profession and my career. I’m an actress but I seem to get nowhere and sometimes I need to take on temporary jobs. Some of them have not been so good…and I’m wondering how I can become more successful on the stage.” Here she paused because she had not asked how much a reading would cost. Though she found it an entertaining pastime, she didn’t expect too much of the fortune itself. She was in it for the interesting opportunity to study someone that she found interesting to impersonate. “But before you do a reading, please tell me the prize so I know if I can afford this. I wouldn’t want to cheat you. I didn’t think of it immediately – but I hope it’s not too expensive ? How much?”

[Amelia Cross]

For a brief moment, as Amolina sipped on her tea, the fortune teller couldn’t help but feel a bit paranoid. The manner of movement she did was so unlike the first sip she toke, what didn’t exactly suggest that she was copying Amelia, to her it didn’t come off as that, yet. She saw it as the girl was trying to just pull an act, pretend to be someone else. There was even a moment when Amelia assumed she could have been one of her father’s girls sent out to mess with her mind, and try to get her to stop working on her trade. It made sense, her father knew a woman like this would attract attention. Or maybe the seemingly empty paranoia of her mentor is rubbing off?

Either way, she chose to ignore it, for now, and concentrate on the words spoken. She seemed highly hesitant about mentioning the dream. The first, logical, thought was that she had just been having a horrid nightmare…what would explain the reasons why she chose not to speak of it, why she was so hesitant. Amelia herself had more than one dream that she refused to speak of, and if forced into it, would chose to be hesitant and careful about the information. It was natural for a human. But what really set off the girl, was that Amolina had said a bright and sunny thing. If it really was the true dream, why didn’t she say it at first? Something was wrong, she was leaving something out. After all, observing people was what she did, and if one did it as much as she, you pick up a few quirks. ”A lovely dream, you must have something bright ahead of you”

The whole concept of an actress with temporarily jobs seemed to alert Amelia, but she kept a still face, not once turning away from the pleasant mask. One person had many masks really, Amelia had the minimum of two always with her, but when it came to job, she wouldn’t dare change the kind and casual one to the sarcastic and even rude one, at least not until it looked like the client could handle it and not put Amelia out of business.

When did she become so calculating? When she just came to Ravok, she had been so open about the readings. She said everything she saw and could allow herself to be rude…looks like she had grown, but was it the good? The right way? Rhysol only knows the answer to that…and even that was questionable. ”I can tell you that, and a lot more” she smiled, a smile that never reached her eyes and was more of a polite gesture, as most of the time.

”5 silver is what I usually ask for, but if the reading is fun to do for myself, I occasionally make a discount” and this was true, it was not exactly a rare occasion that she would do a reading for just one silver, later in the day compensating for it by asking a bit more from a client who looked easy to manipulate and clearly steady with the gold income, usually young girls from good families.

[Amolina]

Amolina nodded. Five silver for just a fortune telling would normally have made her try to negotiate and get that discount the fortune teller was speaking about. But as is was, there was more in it for Amolina than the other girl knew, so she just accepted the price. Perhaps it was a rip off. Then again, it might be a mutual rip off. "Fair enough" she said pleasantly. The idea of charging less if the job was fun intrigued her. It had not occurred to Amolina to think that way. But now the fortune tellers words made her start to think of her own professional ambitions and how she did roles that didn’t get her anywhere…for the sake of the mizas. This in turn led on to a new thought : what if she would work for other reasons, do roles she found fun and interesting, even if she wasn’t paid for it? Could she do this? What would it mean for her and what would it lead to? A revolutionary idea. It was the second brand new and amazing thought in the short time she had been speaking with the fortune teller. First the impersonation and now this too, the concept of doing like she wanted to do. Freedom. The word sent a rush of an unknown and intoxicating feeling through her whole being. Impersonation, she thought, was the opposite of freedom. Taken to the extreme, she imagined impersonation could be like suppressing her own self and personality so totally that not only other people but also she would believe she really was the one she pretended to be – while freedom would mean being the one she truly was, no masks and no pretence. She stopped thinking there. Her mind had strayed again like it sometimes did these days. She had thought the fortune reading would provide a distraction, and the impersonation even more so. But instead it seemed to make her think more than ever. Though the girl was smiling pleasantly and saying that a lovely dream must mean something bright ahead, her eyes were unsmiling. This combination of smile and lack of smile made Amolina think of a shop assistants impersonally professional smile. She turned her gaze downwards to the glass of iced tea. If she was going to impersonate the fortune teller she would need to produce that smile...she tried this out while she was looking thoughtfully at her glass. It made her feel different from how she had felt just a chime ago, like she was now impersonating someone new. Confusing. She dropped the try at impersonation, the same way she used to step out of a role in a play she took a mental step back and out. She could practice later. Now she would focus on observing the fortune teller and how she worked, and on the content of the reading. She looked up at the still smiling girl. “Well. Let’s do the reading. Though if it will be fun for you or not remains to be seen.”.

[Amelia Cross]

Amelia never considered her pricing above average, so the fact Amolina agreed didn’t seem to bother the fortune teller. She just was sure of her skills, maybe even too sure. Her pride in her own trade was probably the only pride you could see in her, unless she was attempting some kind of act, what didn’t really occur often. After all, pride is a trait that only a few appreciate, so in social gatherings she was more humble, with a dash of confidence.

She kept looking at the actresses face, picking up the smile she had given to the glass. It didn’t look right to Amelia, it was dry and fake, a woman who uses smiles like that to earn a living and get what she wanted, knew her way around them. None the less, she didn’t comment on it, she just wondered. She wondered had some part of her own actions caused such a reaction? Had the Cross said something to force another mask on the already masked woman? It bothered her mind, as much as she wouldn’t like to let it show, for a short moment you could see her empty and emotionless eyes glister with curiosity that reflected on her overall face. Thankfully for her, it was gone soon enough and her face was just a mask. Once again, an empty mask.

She placed her deck of cards on the table in front of the girl. The deck was proportionally bigger than a deck of playing cards, by all of its measures. It had more cards in it, the sizes of the cards were larger and the paper they were made of was thicker. But one could see that the deck had a few cards bare a mark of heavy work, as when Amelia read for herself, there was a pattern of the same cards falling out over and over. ”little remains unseen to them, If I am to enjoy this reading, I’ll know that once you pick up the cards, they will tell me” it wasn’t exactly a bluff, it wasn’t an act. It was a pattern and an aura she enjoyed to keep around herself, the aura of questions, mystery and magic. Or at least, that was what she hopped to reinforce about her image.

”shuffle and pass them to me, let them pick up the bothers of your mind and let them go yourself” her smile becoming softer and more human, but her eyes kept cold and empty, like two black holes in a mask.