Closed The Colours of Lhavit (Svasra)

[Zeran]

OOCIt happens to all of us from time to time. Don't worry about it! Glad to have you back.

Zeran tipped his head to the side, confused at Svasra's words. "Can't hear him? He was speaking aloud." Was it possible for ears to partially work? To hear some types of people and races and not others? "You said you had ears, so I don't think you're deaf." Zeran shrugged, laughing lightly, "Then again, I'm no doctor! So I'm not qualified to say there's nothing wrong with you." Not that anyone was likely to take medical advice from him, even if he did have the faintest clue what he was doing. The swirls and wisps of Svasra's aura didn't betray any signs of injury, neither did she look like she'd taken a blow to the head recently. And any damage from an older wound would've shown its effects by noun. She must've been dropped on her head as a baby! It's the only way partial deafness could be thought to be normal! Or maybe she was right and the water-man was telepathic. "Uh..." Zeran crouched down, tucking his knees in and cradling his head. "Telepathy is hurting my head..." The rocking motion was always comforting, especially as Zeran desperately tried to think. The trick was to maintain balance on the balls and heels of your feet as you rocked. And a hurting head always stopped when a problem had been figured out. It was inevitable that he would roll over like an egg and fall on his side like a kina. He'd just have to maintain the position long enough. People had always asked who he had been talking to, and were always confused when he had given them his reply. The man had always sounded like he had been talking aloud, rather than directly into his head. Though it was possible the two sounded the same. Who was to say words spoken straight into your head sounded different to words going through your ears? As it happened, hearing Svasra's voice again told him he wasn't going to be staying in his position long enough to fall over. "Yes! We'll go with that! I like that explanation." Zeran's head snapped up as if the initial outburst had forced it to, lowering into a reasonable speaking voice as he levelled his sights back on the girl. Springing back to his full height, Zeran felt the ground leave beneath his feet leave him as the momentum carried him into the air, looking surreal as he momentarily lingered above the ground, saturated in the many, weaving colours of the Park. The soil welcomed him back with a slight thump, swinging his arms frivolously as he smiled his usual smile, listening to her question like an infant. "Does a year and a half count as a long time?" Zeran asked, suddenly taking interest in his surroundings. "It feels like it. Then again, boat journeys feel long as well," he shrugged as he followed a prismfly's path through the wild djed. "I suppose it's down to perception. 'Long' has got to be different to a kelvic than it is to an akalak." There was quite a big difference between the two lifespans, so maybe a season is a long time to a kelvic, where five years could still be considered short to an akalak. I'll have to ask when I next get the chance... I haven't seen either race since I left Riverfall... This might take longer to find an answer to than I thought. "Story?" he echoed, a tinge of excitement in his tone, jumping up and down around the park. "I love stories! Not kids' stories though. They're completely unrealistic. Struggles, conflict, solutions, everything that makes a story believable! It's like a pycon is documenting your life if it's done right, and even better when you can relate to the characters!" The ground gave way as he slid to a halt, falling back onto the floor as he suddenly went quiet and motionless. Zeran fell into a sitting position, not registering the impact from the collapse, slowly turning to Svasra again. "Wait... You want me to tell you a story?" He sat for a short while, static in both expression and movement, until his smile grew wider. "Sure! Do you like stories that involve betrayal, torture, dismemberment and evisceration?" He barely left any room for an answer. "I don't. Good thing I don't know any! Though I could give it a go. I came from Ravok, so it shouldn't be too difficult when Rhysol has a say in everything you do. Did you have a specific request? Or would you like me to improvise? I'm pretty good at it."

[Svasra]

Zeran seemed distressed to hear Svasra could not hear the telepathic man within the water, crouching and cradling himself in what appeared to be comforting. "Are you alright?" she ventured quietly as she stepped forwards, watching the man rock himself back and forth mimicking the rhythm of a mother to a child. She reached out a hand as though to touch his shoulder, to offer some type of reassurance. The man, in a way, was much like a child, and Svasra's gentle nature bubbled with a motherly concern for the rocking boy.

Svasra took a step back as Zeran recovered, jumping up to answer her question. The whimsical expression that flickered over his face made her smile, waiting patiently for his attention to drift back to her and focus. She took a moment to translate his Common words, pausing for a moment to puzzle out a few of the longer words she was unfamiliar with. Instead of commenting on his span within Lhavit though, Zeran was eager to share a story, returning to the childish jumping. "Yes, I agree," she managed to get in before Zeran sat down quickly.

Almost like the young Snowsongs settling down for story time, Svasra thought as she sat across from Zeran, watching his smile grow as he rambled on quickly. "I.. improvise?" Svasra echoed, confusion littering her face as her odd Vani tongue stumbled around the word. "Ah .. um, make up, yes? Make up, um now," she mumbled, nodding to herself. "Yes, improvise, please?" Svasra asked as she grinned at Zeran, arranging herself comfortably as her eyes whirled colors excitedly.

Note: "Svasra speaking Vani, Svasra speaking Common"

[Zeran]

"Wow. You really don't have the nest grasp on the Common tongue, do you Lady Svasra?" He couldn't help himself, but he didn't do much to stop himself either. To Zeran, attempting to wind people up was a natural part of conversation. A little defiance left over in him from his slavery days, when you needed to get an idea of a person's personality quickly. He found it still had its uses outside the cage, so had never dropped the habit. "That being said, my Tukant isn't the best," he shrugged, catching his cloak with flamboyant flick of his wrist, arranging it to sit about himself so it fell from his shoulders and reached across the floor around him. "It's more fair if I expect from others nothing more than what I can do myself, yeah?" With the colours dancing across his features, and his almost-sagely posture, Zeran could've been mistaken as an illusion of colouration, as shades and hues happened to drift into the correct places and the correct times to paint an image on par with the masters. As was Svasra, as she sat she sat smiling, patiently waiting for him to begin his story. Now he had to think. He had agreed to tell the young lady a story, but didn't have any idea where he could start. Improvising came relatively simply to him. Finding a point to start from didn't. And he was no storyteller. One thing he knew was he would not be able to weave a story that could grapple the attention of thousands within chimes. He'd be happy to settle with a story that could at least interest her, if nothing else. Provided she wouldn't grow frustrated with the numerous pauses being used to give him time to think. "It's unlikely, but have you ever heard the term 'Road Brother', Lady Svasra?" Zeran's surprise was reserved for if she did. It was not a term he had heard used by anyone other than bandits and slavers. Even then, he'd only heard it from his own group. "It's a term used by some of the most brutal people to wander Mizahar in reference to the group they are travelling with." "Mizahar is a dangerous place. I'm sure you're already aware of that fact. Yet these are people who make a living amongst those dangers. The kind of things that travellers are warned to look out for, if they value their possessions and their blood." Zeran sat, speaking in a low, menacing voice, trying to set the atmosphere with whatever skills he might hold, holding Svasra's eyes as the words left his mouth. He took his time, letting Svasra time to take in all he had said. Stalling for time. "Men and woman who accept the dangers, who are aware of them, and choose to go along with it. They know that you must kill if you want to survive this land. Must steal to get what you need. Must trade to get what you want. And the price is not always in gold or fine cloths. Flesh and blood is their currency to squander as they feel also." Raids had been a common thing amongst the slavers. They had always been seeking new merchandise to sell, and they themselves had been no pushovers to survive the Wildlands and more. Though just because the group survived to continue their work didn't always mean that its numbers didn't get reduced from time to time. "Safety in numbers doesn't mean perfect protection from harm," Zeran continued, laughing at the thought of his former captors' actions. "Sometimes those very numbers are what threatens you. There is no honour amongst Road Brothers, only the mutual desire to live without constraints by society. That means free to kill those who anger you at a moments notice, or to trip your brother running alongside you so the pursuing predator catches him and not you. You don't need to be the fastest of the brothers to survive, Lady Svasra. You just need to be faster than the brother alongside you." Zeran stopped his speech once again, contemplating his next words. His teeth ground against each other as thought began to eat away at him, making for an unsettling expression as his brow creased in concentration along with his jaw's movement. "That is not to say they don't care for their brothers once they are gone. Just that they will be upset when they do it to their favourite brothers." He snickered. "That is where the safety is. You are more likely to succeed when their is plenty of other people who can be sacrificed before you. If Mizahar cared for the lives and accomplishments of people, it would not do its best to steal them away at a moment's notice." Zeran's hand slithered out from underneath his cloak, revealing the black half-sun. "Would it surprise you to know I was once a brother, Lady Svasra?"

[Svasra]

oocYou have no idea how appreciative and thankful I am for your never-ending patience, and not rushing me with anything. Thank you so much. C:

Though Svasra was surprised the man spoke so bluntly, she didn't let the comment bother her, shrugging. "Not really, it is not my ... ah, first, language," she offered as an explanation to Zeran, though she didn't think it needed, as he didn't seem to want one. The comment wasn't made in malice, though it was towards a spot that would ruffle some feathers on the right bird. It seemed almost automatic, in a certain respect, though Svasra didn't think too hard on it, only adding it to the growing list of oddities that made up this creature named Zeran. What an odd man he was.

The mention of Tukant perked her interest, though Svasra stayed quiet as Zeran continued in his unconcerned manner. The woman had little need to guide the conversation as he rattled on, pausing every now and then to gather his thoughts. She had wondered multiple times if he was sane, or if his behaviour was the backlash of some scarring experience. Svasra had given up trying to label the odd man, accepting him as solely Zeran as he was, seeing no other way to truly describe him. Then again, they had only known each other for a span of bells, if that, so who was she to try and perfectly sum him up to begin with?

When he directly asked a question, Svasra gave the term some thought. Though she had not explicitly heard the phrase 'road brother', it seemed easily to puzzle out, so the woman nodded gently. She suspected the term would refer to a partner on the road, in travels, kind of like how some within her Hold referred to each other as 'Hold siblings' as a simple reference to being in the same Hold. Zeran's surprise though caught her off-guard, and it showed in her expression, as she feared it might be something completely different than her previous thoughts. As he offered the meaning though, Svasra found she was correct, and could only smile in a small mix of confusion at Zeran. Was it not a popular term? She didn't find it too hard to define, though.

The story had begun though, and Zeran spoke with a fair measure of emotion, grabbing Svasra in his piercing gaze, and holding her to the sway of his voice as he murmured in a menacing tone. He spoke of the dangerous road brothers, of their ways that trade skin as much as gold and labour. She shuddered to think of running into such a demise, alone and cold at the side of some unknown path. He did not offer a nice picture of what awaited in her further travels.

I suppose I made a wise choice to come with Dragul, Svasra mused with a slightly pleased smile. The large Akalak was a comfort on the road, not only in companionship, but in safety as well. There were few who dared challenge the dour looking male, though Svasra rarely understood their fears. Dragul was such a kind soul, if abet mysterious, she could never bring herself to be wary of the man.

Zeran warned her of having too many though, and Svasra listened with rapt attention, her disgust growing for these 'Road Brothers', realizing the words were less of a description, than a title. They lived without morals, without laws, without shame. Svasra's gaze narrowed, eyes flickering with red as her fingers drummed her leg in an annoyed fashion. They were ruthless, and low lives. Svasra restrained from spitting out comments, and concentrated as Zeran grew silent in one of his bouts of thought.

Even with his small measure of redemption of these Road Brothers with the small claim they did care for the deceased, Svasra had little respect for the creatures within his story, more monster than human. It wasn't until Zeran outstretched a hand, imprinted with a vaguely familiar image, did Svasra care to give them a second thought.

Her eyes darted upwards in mild alarm, meeting Zeran's calm gaze that spoke the truth. This was no weird jest, nor was it some fancy claim of the haughty. Svasra slowly took the hand that was offered to her, thumb tracing the symbol, though it meant little. Was it the sign of the Road Brothers? Was it a brand of those disbanded from them? Was it his own fanciful tattoo given meaning within this story? "Perhaps ... once. I cannot see .. cannot see you do that, any more," Svasra ventured as she drew her eyes away from his mark, still grasped within her own un-marred hand. "What ... does it mean?" she added, her fingers putting pressure on the designed black half-sun to indicate what she inquired of.

Though Svasra grew a bit wary of learning Zeran, formally so innocent and sweet, had ever involved himself with such lawless minions, she could not help but look at the man with renewed interest. It was not often (or ever) Svasra ran into one that had anything less than the best intentions, and to find one that seemed to run along the bottom of the cess-pool, even if it was briefly, was a fascinating subject.

What was his reasoning? What made him leave? Was he born into it? Svasra almost begged to ask the questions, but first, she wished to learn the specific meaning of the odd design that adorned Zeran's otherwise creamy hand.

Note: "Svasra speaking Vani, Svasra speaking Common"

[Zeran]

"Your faith in me is touching," he replied, "but don't always believe first impressions when travelling, Lady Svasra." A traveller could easily be convinced with kind appearances if they didn't keep their wits about them. A well fabricated persona, used in the right places, was just as effective as a dagger to the throat. "Not everyone is who they make themselves out to be. Consider this inside information from someone who's been there." Even amongst the floating colours, the mark remained black and devoid of any life as Svasra held it in her own small-yet-soft hands, mirroring any meaning it might've had behind it. "It means I have no life of my own. That I am not human. That I am merely an object with a price on its head." Her thumbs pressed on the mark, but any feeling had been dulled on the day of the brand, replaced by a searing pain and, later, scarring. "Or at least it used to. That ended sometime around Riverfall. I don't think I turned out too bad for a Ravokian slave, though others might disagree." Silence fell over him as he watched Svasra's eyes move from him, to his hand, and back, enthralled by the the ever-changing colours in her eyes. The frequency and number matched the colours that her aura exuded, unable to pin one specific emotion. A story was designed to have an effect on its audience. The feeling pulled at his smile, delighted that his retelling created such a mixture of colour in her eyes and aura. "Why do a Vantha's eyes change colour?" he asked. "I've never known the reason for it, but I do love the effect." The world was full of so many wonders and secrets. Many would remain so for centuries to come, and knowing that fuelled Zeran's desire to find and see as many as he could. Knowing it would be impossible to find all of them in his lifetime did not dissuade him from making a good attempt at it. His curiosity wouldn't let him, even if the goal was so far away, you needed to get started before you could get close. "Wait, I'm going off topic again," he said, withdrawing his hand. The warmth from Svasra's hand still lingered as he brought his away from hers. The earth shifted beneath him as his legs stretched out. Sitting crossed-legged was not a favoured position for any extended period of time, neither was sitting still. A soft humming escaped his lips as he got to his feet, walking in circles to get the blood flow going again. It worked, regardless of how he looked, and circles was one of the few shapes that would ensure he didn't wander too far away. Lady Svasra was here after all, and leaving her so suddenly might be a bit upsetting. She's more than welcome to join if she wants. The loose soil of the park remembered his path shortly before he stopped, leaving a darkened circle of compressed dirt at his feet. An island in the middle, that was now Zeran's new favourite place to stand, lay separated from everything else. "So, is there anything else you wish to ask? The number of colours that follow you suggest you have plenty. I can do my best to answer, thought I can't promise all answers will be interesting." He smiled as he rocked back and forth on his mini island.