Haste Makes Waste (Open)

[Siriala]

After helping Sam up, Siriala watched with interest as the girl covered her face once again with the hood. Was she shy or something? Or did she have something to hide? Siri couldn't help but be curious, and although she was an unusually blunt person, she held off on asking...for the moment anyway. Besides, who was she to judge? Everyone had secrets right? Perhaps she should just learn her lesson and move on. That would certainly be the smart thing to do, and Siri did pride herself on her intelligence. Well actually, she was proud of everything about herself--except her size. It really irked her to always have to be looking up at people. She brushed the thoughts out of her head like one might do to cobwebs, and turned her attention back on what Sam was saying.

"And what may I call you?"

The woman fidgeted nervously, hesitating on giving out her name that easily. She wasn't sure if her parents still had people out looking for her, but they probably thought her dead by now. It matters not, Siri told herself. They'd never find me in a city as big as this anyway. Finally, the woman smiled, her mind made up. She gave a small bow and then spoke. "Please call me Siriala--Siri if you wish."

[Samuel Blackwell]

Sam wasn't in the habit of making small talk or friends, but she had already been in the city only a few hours and got lost. If she was ever going to quench her aching throat or fill her empty stomach she could use someone who knew this city better than her - which she supposed wasn't saying much. She was brought back out of her head by the woman's voice.

"Please call me Siriala--Siri if you wish."

Samuel's lips formed the words, it felt funny to say, but who was Sam to say a name was funny? Her name didn't even belong to her gender. She smiled youthfully, "So Siri, are you in the habit of passing out amongst thick dangerous crowds - or is this your first time giving it a try?" Inside Sam cringed at the inherent awkwardness of the forced and cliche joke. Was she really so bad at socializing as this? Had all those years of lonely courier work made her socially inadequate?

With all the self doubt swelling in her she pulled the large book shaped package covered in linen wraps off her back and held it almost like a child would hold a precious dolly. She looked almost comical, the enormous tome juxtaposed against her lithe frame made her look even smaller and meeker.

[Siriala]

"So Siri, are you in the habit of passing out amongst thick dangerous crowds--or is this your first time giving it a try?"

Siriala bristled, and if she had been a cat her fur would be raised in warning. Growing up isolated had taken it's toll on her social skills, so she didn't quite understand that Sam was joking. While she might be able to mention some random fact that she had picked up during reading, most of the time books didn't teach one how to act around people, and Siri had, after all, spent much of her time in her family's library. It was a weakness of sorts, but since the petite woman usually refused to talk to people anyways, it never really occurred to her that it could be a type of crutch. That being said, Siri might have realized this, but had refused to acknowledge it.

And so, with a slightly offended expression, Siriala replied in a bit of an irritated voice. "It's not something I usually do, so--" She was about to finish that sentence with a very rude phrase, when she saw the very large book-ish looking package wrapped in the cloaked girl's arms. A twinkle appeared in her eye, and her face seemed to light up. "Is that a book?" Siri could feel a sort of impatient restlessness grow inside of her. It had been months since she had read anything, and she had thought that Syliras would have a library. To her annoyance it did not, and the woman was craving to smell that pleasantly musty scent of a well-read book.

Perhaps I should look into buying some...

[Samuel Blackwell]

Samuel was never very social herself. This was probably because of her obnoxious penchant for easily finding ways to annoy people. It would seem from Siri's tone that Sam had found hers. A small smirk that screamed mischief wormed it's way onto her face when she heard Siri's voice filled with such anxiety and frustration. She was trying to think up a snappy comeback even as she could tell an insult was about to fly out of Siriala's mouth. So saying Sam was surprised and disarmed by Siriala's sudden shift of subjects would be an understatement. Sam clutched the book defensively to her chest as her eyebrows raised in an expression of curiosity and she blushed slightly. "Y - Yes it is. Why?"

[Xelin Sylaaf]

"Watcha got there?" An uppity voice imposed itself on Pain's space. No sooner that the voice arrived than a body made itself known to the young artist as well. The body took a seat amongst the crates by Pain, their cloak draping most of the wood, along with part of Pain as well. Whoever this was should very little consideration for personal space.

"Is that a drawing?" The voice belonging to the body asked. Usually, when it came to people, Xelin rarely made himself a stranger to anyone, even if the situation asked it of him. When it came to women, he was even less likely to make himself a stranger, and when it came to artist, stranger wasn't even a phrase he thought could be used in such a situation. Afterall, all artists shared a common calling, like soldiers, it was telepathic. It was like, well, telepaths.

Xelin looked close at the drawing, not bad, though it looked rather quickly done. He then spotted two figures, set off from the bustling crowds. Judging by their looks, he could tell that they were this young artists subjects. "Oh, now I see, that's really impressive." He'd never seen a portrait of people done so fast.

Drawings in general fascinated Xelin, they were so quiet compared to music. A drawing didn't impose itself like a song did. It's always easier to look away than it is to hear away.

Xelin then turned to the young girl and offered a hand, "I'm Xelin, a fellow artist. And you?" He wondered what the response would be, by her looks she seemed like the quiet type. Xelin had learned from experience that the quiet type could also be the stabbing type. But life would be boring if you worried too much about being stabbed.

[Elhaym]

Pain said nothing as the noisy intruder plopped down aside her, obviously intent on polishing the details of the sword woman's clothing. When the charcoal finally uprooted itself from the paper, Pain examined her piece. "Impressive? Their hips look disjointed and the cloaked one's feet are too small, not to mention..."

She was torn away from her self critique as the man shoved his hand toward her.

"I'm Xelin, a fellow artist. And you?"

Pain turned her head, simultaneously setting her drawing beside her. Since arriving back in Syliras, no one had really attempted to speak to her outside hello's and goodbye's. Much less shove their hand in her face.

"Pain." she said, with just a hint of ice in her voice. She couldn't help it, after all. Being interrupted whilst drawing was an almost unforgivable sin. "Interesting that you're so willing to approach a stranger. Just a moment ago, that cloaked fellow over there was almost run through, and for saving that woman from being trampled no less." Pain stated bluntly,thumbing towards the pair she had been drawing as she spoke.

Pain had left his offered hand floating, all too aware that making contact with someone is the surest way to have whatever is most valuable on your person snatched up within seconds.

[Xelin Sylaaf]

Realizing he wasn't going to get a response back, Xelin returned his hand to his side. Ouch, he thought, this was a real ice queen he was dealing with. He should've suspected as much, artists are like writers, far too quiet for their own good. Maybe Xelin was too loud for his own good but damned if he was ever going to think that. At least, he thought, she doesn't seem like the stabbing type.

"So a scuffle, eh? And I thought Sunberth was dangerous." To be fair, he thought, stuff like what Pain mentioned happened so often it was hardly even an occurence. "I wonder what those two are up to then." He turned to Pain, "Certainly you might be curious, I mean you did sketch them." But just as the thought came to him, his mind once again jumped to another subject. "So Pain is it? You mean like pain, as in ouch, Pain? Or is it some non-human pronounciation or something?" He then noticed she was quite pale and rather slender, a thought came across his mind and he gave paused and inched back for a moment. "You're not a symenestra are you?"

[Elhaym]

"You're not a symenestra are you?"

Pain's draw dropped in shock. Slowly, it settled back into a closed position, covered by the harsh scowl of her lips and the sound of grinding teeth. Her bandaged and charcoal stained right hand clenched into a fist, threatening to act of it's own free will. Hopping down from her makeshift seat, she took a step forward, and pointed a finger at Xelin's chest.

"A Symnestra!? You..." Pain stammered, her pointing hand vibrating up and down as if it were about to explode. Clearly, this guy either had no skill at all with women, or he had an odd desire to kicked in the side of the head. Standing now, it was apparent that if it came to it, he probably would get kicked, not hit. Pain's upper body may have been lean, but her legs were powerfully built.

"You... urgh! Give me one reason I shouldn't knock you upside the head, squirt!"

OOC: MovedI have moved Xelin and Pain's meeting to a new thread so Siri and Sam can proceed unhinderd. Sorry for the near hijack.

[Xelin Sylaaf]

Bad move, Xelin, very very bad move. As Pain got up from her seat, Xelin could actually for once get a full view of the girl. Much to his shock, or horror perhaps, she was quite well built. She looked like a boxer, and had the glare of an assassin. Xelin's heart jumped into his throat and probably skipped a few beats as the brawny artist threatened him.

On some level, though, he was happy he hadn't been stabbed yet. He was starting to enjoy this girls company.

Even still, Xelin knew that the girl wasn't playing around. His next words would have to be carefully chosen, lest he receive a fist or foot across the face. This was not Xelin's forte, he was loath to talk his way out of trouble. Usually by now he'd have tackled the person and got in as many punches as he could and hope they'd be unable to chase him afterwards. This was a woman though, and he had very strict reservations about hitting a woman.

Xelin decided to go with the best plan he could, and gave out a good laugh. "Well that's one way of dealing with it, I guess." He said as he settled back a bit, calculating the distance from his head to her foot. This would probably hurt. "I never said being a symenestra's a bad thing. I was just curious if you were. They're quite impressive creatures you know." Good going Xelin, he thought, like she's going to believe that. "Also," He said as it came to him, "We're one in the same. Us artists got to stick together, right?"

[Siriala]

Siri simply laughed at Sam's question. Contrary to what some would suspect, the laugh that flew from her lips was very light and melodious, as if she had been a skylark in a past life. But it lasted only a moment before being dispersed into the air. In all honesty, Siriala had no idea what had amused her so. Perhaps it was the blush that rose on the young woman's cheeks, or maybe the slight defensiveness in her voice. Or, the most probable reason, that Siri simply had a change of heart at the confirmation that the package was indeed a book. She smiled slightly, acting as if she were a completely different person then before. It occurred to her for a moment that perhaps a good way to stop her from running anyone through during one of her tempestuous moods, was to throw a book at her feet. The thought of this made her smile twitch a bit as she held back giggle. After a few seconds, when she trusted her voice not to sound girlishly pink, Siri spoke. "Tell you what. As an apology for earlier, how about I treat you to a meal. There's a tavern called the Rearing Stallion not far from here." The woman cocked her head to the side. "Of course in return you have to tell me what's in that book of yours. What do you say? Is it a deal?"