Good and Bad

[Cassandra Southwind]

Winter 36, 513 The Scholar's Demise Cassandra was faced with a pivotal decision, one which would likely decide the course of the night. It loomed over her sullen brow like a desperate, dying whisper, urging her to choose, or leave. On the one hand stood the promise of comfortable solitude, contented by warm thoughts but burdened by the sideward glances of misunderstanding strangers; on the other, the possibility of a more unique evening, albeit alongside the embarrassing task of acquiring a few hours' company. The door closed behind her like a final gong: Table or bar? Made anxious by the (completely fictional) pressure to decide, the foreign girl huffed as she finally allowed her feet to move toward the bar. She had spent the whole day haggling and arguing for stupid little coins, so why not attempt a more civil conversation? She would not be the first to approach a stranger, however. Instead she would quietly open herself to someone else's invitation by choosing a barstool framed by empty ones. Shedding her coat and draping it over her chosen seat, she glanced at bluey scene beyond the frosted window. It was just the beginning of Midnight Rest. Customers were shifting between those relaxing after labor and retreating for home. She did not envy the ones that departed into the growing storm. The weather had been tolerable for near on five days, but this snow promised to paint the city white and miserable. Shivering, she turned to the counter. Her inflamed fingers rubbed wildly against each other, elbows perched against the counter as she breathed heat onto her palms. Before her hands could drop to the counter again, a server was upon her with a smile. Cassandra wiped the stunned look from her face quickly enough, eyes darting from the horns on his head to the patina surface between her hands. He mentioned something that she did not quite hear, to which she responded with a single kina. There were menus around, but she did not want to embarrass herself with trying to read them. Instead she made a noncommittal wave and received a nod of understanding in return. Before long, a round glass with an orange-colored drink within slid into her grasp. The cocktail, which she could not know was named The Sun's Glory, looked prettier than it ought to be, but the weary merchant was happy for anything. She nodded a polite smile, waiting to taste the sweet concoction once she'd seen the server's back. And sweet it was, but not in the wincing way that some drinks could be. Cassandra was immediately glad for the happy taste and the loose warmth that followed. Her eyelashes tripped candidly on their way to a brief close. Only when she had savored it completely did she open her eyes again, now comfortable enough to cast an unspoken line over the people in her vicinity and, so fishing, find one to hook.

[Arysana]

oocSorry if it feels rushed - it is indeed D: Time slipped away from me, but I didn't want to leave it un-responded to!

After the mess that went down last time, Sana had made the thrilling choice of returning to the Scholar's Demise. Was it famous, or infamous? She wasn't quite sure - either way, she at least knew how to order a drink this time around. She straightened her casual wear as she made quick for the bar, deciding she quite liked the way it overlooked the rest of the room, she herself otherwise off put by the thought of staring at blue lights for her time in the tavern - her own worship of Leth, or not.

She took short notice of the woman who already sat at the bar, giving her a short, polite smile as she slid near by, and ordered a drink for herself - one of the cheaper cocktails, this time around. Of course, however, the slowness of the place was enough to vex her into downing her drink rather quickly, expression drawing as the tangy after taste hit her in full swing. I probably have it in me to be full fledged alcoholic. She mused, clenching her hand as she told herself that she'd wait until her first drink caught up to her, before she went off ordering another. Her coin was too difficult to earn to be spent so quickly.

It barely took a chime of waiting and insistent tapping upon the bar top before her impatience wore through her, and she took a quick survey for someone that she'd be able to spark conversation with. The key word, of course, being conversation. In terms of those that were seated at the bar, there was only a single person who seemed worth talking to - both in levels of alcohol running through their body and depth of character. Sana supposed she could seek others, in more dimly lit sections of the place, but where was the fun, and laziness, in that?

"So," She began, mustering up a casual air, trying to gain her attention. "Its a rather slow night, don't you think?" She couldn't help but feel oddly comfortable with the way things were turning - as awkward or not it was for the other party to be tied into a one sided conversation. "Or do you not frequent taverns often?"

[Cassandra Southwind]

The door opened and Cassandra briefly met the eye of the woman who entered, a spark of bright orange amid the blue cast of candles. But she hesitated to hold her gaze for long. In a tick she was looking down at her drink, amusing herself with the coincidence of their matching colors, watching through her periphery as the stranger approached and sat close. How fortunate it would be, she thought, to speak with a relatively clean, relatively sober young woman. She turned to address her, and Cassandra could have sighed. "Perhaps it is slow," she agreed, after an acknowledging shrug. "But only because of the Rest." Her words hung heavy on a Fratavan accent, strong consonants and undulating vowels. Her tired eyes leaned toward the crowdless room. At each rest, Cassandra still struggled with the choice to stay up or to retire or to return to the port, forced to sleep on hard, grounded beds so that she would not miss an opportunity to sell her wares. Tonight she had chosen not to rest, and could only hope that she would not regret it later. Though the woman beside her did not look like a typical Lhavitian, there was no way to know how familiar she was with Lhavit's various and strange customs. It seemed impolite to complain outright, so she said, "I am frequent at taverns, yes. But not this one, because I am still new to Lhavit. Most cities do not have Rests." Her attention fell on her drink again, satisfied with her answer and prepared to settle with it. As her fingers curled around the glass, however, she realized that it would not be friendly to leave it at that. She pulled her hand from the cold, moist glass and offered it to the other. "My name is Cassandra. I work in the plaza," she explained, giving a nod to the window, the Surya behind it. "I see this place often, but only now I find time to come in. Do you--Are you frequent here?"

[Arysana]

Thoughts | "Speech" | oocAnnnd let the debating begin! (Mildly at first, of course)

Sana couldn't help the downwards curve of her lips at the mention of the hour. Just how long had she burnt away at work- were taverns often open during the rests? The noise and crowds certainly diminished during the rests of noon and midnight, so she figured that perhaps the place closed when Syna and Leth turned? Why was she thinking so much about the opening and closing times of a tavern she'd attended now twice in her life?

By the time she'd brought her wandering mind back to conversation, she caught the bulk of what was said. Sure, there was a slight difficulty that came with the thickness of the accent, and that Sana herself was not bought up on common, but there was nothing to be misunderstood. She took a swig of her drink as she tried to figure out just what the accent spoken was, brow drawing in confusion. Not Nari, Vani, or Drykas, at least. Isur? No, that wouldn't make much sense. She threw another look over the woman, almost cursing the lighting as she failed to properly make out the colouration of her eyes. Perhaps it was whatever was spoken by the Svefra, or the Benshira, perhaps?

When the woman moved, Sana's attention was taken, and she gave a small flinch. A light sigh left her as she registered the act of cordial greeting, and a smile took quick form on her lips, shaking it firmly as she listened to following words. Cassandra, it was a rather long name, she noted. Not quite the mouth full of syllables as her own, but the way it rolled of the woman's tongue quickly made it one of Sana's favourites.

"Arysana," She said, before an awkward gesture. "Though I much prefer 'Sana'," When she retrieved her hand she gave a look of thought, wondering if it could be said that she frequented the tavern. In terms of how many times she'd ever actually been in Scholar's Demise, it was merely twice in her life. But those two times were within the last third of a season, and she was showing no signs of slowing down. "In terms of how I frequent here - It seems like I'm being to snow ball a little bit." She have a short giggle, taking another sip of her drink as she did so."Why is it that being bad always feels so good?"

[Cassandra Southwind]

"Cass," she added belatedly, a second footnote to Sana's introduction. Cass eyed the soft fingers that had met with her calloused ones; she was not blind to the instinctive recoil that had greeted her benign gesture. She found herself wondering what kind of woman it was who gave her name more readily than her hand. Perhaps Arysana was simply as nervous as she was; the foreigner liked the idea so much that she decided it was true. Once loosed, her hand again found the cold warmth of her cocktail. She was not so uncivil as to drop Sana's gaze entirely; she gave a neutral nod to the strange idiom that she did not understand, then took a second drink. Being bad, Sana said as a heavy gulp reached the back of Cassandra's throat, Feels so good--and the Svefra almost choked. A brief but crowded series of thoughts flooded over her then, memories and worries that did not often trouble her in the company of others. What could this woman possibly know about badness, who had probably lived her entire life in this beautiful, perfect city? Did she know something she shouldn't, something about what Cassandra had done? But when she looked again at Arysana, wiping her mouth discretely and hoping her response hadn't been noticed, Cass did not see any knowing or malice. Only a happy conversation and perhaps a bit of devilish merriment. She laughed warily. "Taverns are not so bad," she recovered, finally understanding her meaning. "A person should not feel guilt for having a drink, after a good day of labor. It is not the worst thing to do, at all. But perhaps you do not see so many bad things, in a city as good as this." The biased observation was punctuated with another swig, more to wet her tongue than to satisfy a need to let loose. At least, that was what she told herself as the beverage went down again, cooling the last of her anxieties. She sighed as the glass left her lips and fell back into place with a hard noise. "Or have you not always lived in this city?"

[Arysana]

Thoughts | "Speech" | oocGah, I am so sorry for the delay! Christmas did a number on me ;_;

Sana blinked twice, the sudden surge of rationality a little misplaced given the atmosphere and situation, and a gleeful little smile soon blazed her lips. Indeed, she supposed, there were a dozen things far more worse than what came with a drink. Like going into over giving, or daring your sharp tongued little brother to a battle of wits. Or deciding that the only way to make yourself come off the winner in such a situation by then challenging him in a dual of brawn.

Her look fell a little at the mention of a 'city as good as this,' memory quickly coming to the state of the place when she herself first settled. From the executions, to the crime, to the dire worry that crossed her parent's expression when she had decided to venture out for a day. All good things came to an end, she thought, wrought with a worry that perhaps Lhavit would fall and rise and fall again. It was indeed one heck of a tangent and exaggeration, but she couldn't quite help herself, her imagination perhaps a little too large and morbid.

When the question came as to whether or not she'd always lived in the Jewel of Kalea that Lhavit, she couldn't help but scold herself for almost forgetting her own heritage, and how her mind had that strange tendency to twist and turn and find its own offhand interpretations of words. "No," she said, after thought clouded her mind. "I grew up, for the most part, in Wind Reach," she pressed her lips as she examined the looks of Cassandra - Cass - seeking an give or tell of recognition for the place. Surely they were not unheard of?

She then drew her expression in thought, trying to seek a number to lend better understanding. "Its been around a decade, now. Inarta are my mother's people, and although I bear the red hair and fair skin - I have nothing in terms of an affinity to eagles or hawks," she gave a dismissive wave of her hand, finishing her drink before adding an afterthought. "That being said - I've never been able to bring myself to consume a single feathered beast. Whether they were raised for slaughter or hunted, I just can't do it." A look passed her expression that was a sickness at the thought, the woman unable to consume something that she'd seen and lived with so closely. Even if she herself never experienced a close bond herself, the thought of those that did deterred her greatly. It was like consuming a cat or pup. Unthinkable in her own mind.

[Cassandra Southwind]

Cassandra's brow bent candidly at the unfamiliar word—Inarta—but it softened again as her memory slowly pieced together its meaning. The waters around the great mountain were too far and treacherous for any sane Svefra to attempt a visit, but that did not mean she had never heard tales of the hardy people and their great flying mounts. She had never dreamed of meeting one in person, however detached she might have been from her heritage. The realization of Sana's race was not the thing that painted Cass's face with confusion, however. Rather it was the peculiar diet she described, the arbitrary discrimination against avian meat. "Why?" She found herself asking, even before she had considered the possible answers for herself. The question was more curious than urgent, but it left her mouth strangely, perhaps rudely. She shrugged, attempting to soften her boldness as she collected the words for a hasty backpedal. "Yes, I mislike bird. It is not soft like fish, or with good fat like beef. Good reasons to not eat it. And you say you have no affinity to these birds, so what is it that you simply cannot do?" Maybe it was the drink or maybe it was the unease she felt in the subject of slaughter and the hunt, but Cassandra found herself needing to look away from Arysana. She pulled the garnish from her half-empty cocktail and dropped it in, shaking the glass in circles until the little peel sank below the surface. It was just a polite conversation. The poor stranger did not mean anything more than what she said. With that in mind, the fisherman went on. "I am Svefra," she explained that which might have already been guessed. She briefly raised the hand that bore Laviku's mark, as if in proof. "I live among the fish. And I kill them and I eat them." Only then did she look back at the Inarta, an amiable smile on her face where there might have otherwise been a scowl. Perhaps the expression was somewhat forced, but it was important to Cass that she did not seem insensitive about the matter. In fact, it struck closer to her heart than she would dare share with so few drinks in her. "I thank the bounty of the gods for the food I eat, and I survive. What is the problem with this?"

[Arysana]

Thoughts | "Speech"

Sana rather quite liked listening to the way that common tongue was spoken spoken with such an accent - Svefra, as she soon found out. The accent that came with Nari had a rather ridiculous and constant shift in pitch and tone, whatever language dominated her kin, was certainly no less strong - but there wasn't any horrid frivolity. It sounded like a great difficulty to even attempt another language, and made the simple fact that Cassandra was putting in the effort to pursue conversation add to Sana's own interest in it (Whether or not it actually was hard to speak, the sentiment was nice enough in her mind).

For a passing comment that could have been easily rolled off one's back, the Svefra spoke a great deal more than Sana had though she would. Perhaps there was a slight mis-communication, she wondered shortly, a chill creeping up her own spine at the thought of her own misadventures when she was still learning the ins and outs of common tongue. As Cassandra went on to talk about the affinity that Sana lacked she couldn't help but shoot a short glare in an off direction. Gods, even I don't know. When the name of her peoples came up, and she gave almost a dismissive proof with her gnosis, she almost fell out of her chair. She heard that the sea fairing peoples often wore their gnosis like a badge of honour - as she herself did her scar - but to see such a sight in person was something else entirely. Yes, indeed. She was awfully sheltered.

Sana went to speak, but quickly found herself closing her mouth and furrowing her brow. She knew where her problems were, but the words didn't quite feel right as she tried to place them upon her lips. There was something strange about the question, and she nodded slowly thrice before sending the sweet bartender a look as she tapped the glass. "It's not..." She struggled, a hand moving her rub her next as another drink was poured before her.

Sana looked at Cassandra, quite the pleading little look, choosing her words and fumbling for some form of way point of sorts. Her mother had told her about the sub races of humans before, likening the Svefra, Inarta, and Drykas to some strange level - their ties to their loyal beasts, was it? Did she mention the desert peoples, too? Then what of the Vantha? Alcohol had slowed her mind a little, and she shook herself as she enticed words to flow. "I'm not too sure about the Svefra," she began, taking a rather large gulp of her new drink. "But don't you have... friends? I don't remember the name - it was mentioned to me a while back - but beasts of the oceans that you love as well as your own flesh and blood?"

Sana frowned - cultural differences are hard. "It is more of the knowledge of what could have been. If I know what is on my plate could have been a bird kept by a child, the lone company of someone advanced in years, loved dearly, free, or in the aviaries of Wind Reach... I've seen how close people can get to their beloved bird, how they play and sing and sulk, my appetite is quickly lost the moment I consider such. I manage well enough to eat other meats, I just can't handle birds." She nodded slowly to herself, deciding that she'd conveyed her feelings on the matter quite well enough.

[Cassandra Southwind]

A woman approached at Sana's silent beckoning and, happy for the excuse, Cassandra quickly downed the last of her own drink. She caught the server's second glance as her latest acquaintance spoke, giving a gracious smile to the hand that retrieved the empty glass. It was foolish, she knew, to be so nervous. She liked talking to people, but she felt too often trapped in a net of false nuance and first impressions. She would not savor the second drink, if only to shed herself of those anxieties. "Dolphins," Cassandra affirmed. It was one of the first Common words she had ever learned, and she quite liked the sound of it. "We keep dolphins, or whales, as Tavan. In my language it means friend, as you say. But it is closer than friendship. But further than family. It is... well, it is Tavan." The drinks arrived in due haste. She took a moment to consider Arysana's reasoning from behind the little round glass, taking as long a gulp as would be socially acceptable. Without putting it down, she turned wholly toward the Inarta girl and leaned an elbow against the counter. "We caught a dolphin in the net once. An accident. It did not survive the haul, but we could not allow it to die without purpose. We prepared it with the fish for supper and we ate it. But I always feel that it was... bad. Somehow. Perhaps it is the same feeling." She broke from that olive green gaze for a moment to look consciously at the drink in her hand. "I did not know that the people of the north mountain keep birds as Tavan." A brief moment of indecision ended in another sip. Then she set the glass down and exhaled heavily, the last of her breath tripping into a low chuckle. "But now I am thinking, why keep dolphin as Tavan, and not fish or cow? We favor few and we kill the rest." Her fingertips pressed up her forehead, attempting to make a sore topic more casual than it was. "Putting some lives above others--there is a thing to feel guilt for."

[Arysana]

Thoughts | "Speech" | oocAnnnd let the debating begin! (Mildly at first, of course)

Tavan, Friend? But only an animal? Sana nodded slowly at the term, pleased with the way it sounded and rolled off Cassandra's tongue, wishing that the circumstance allowed her to speak it. When she then used the word in terms of the Inarta, Sana supposed that it was a well enough description, given that she didn't quite understand it in context herself. From the mention of dolphins and whales, she figure that the closest thing to a 'Tavan' for her mother's kind were the Eagle Riders and their mounts.

Sana couldn't help but swallow hard, and take a general drink of her beverage as the conversation deepened. She didn't particularly wish to be drunk, but there was always a filter between her mind and mouth that dissolved with alcohol. It was easier to speak freely, and without concern for others. Something which she felt would likely be needed for the coming words. "Perhaps... She began, trying to figure her words in a way that conveyed her feelings with out too much bitterness.

"It is our own hubris that started it all in the first place." She wasn't sure how she was coming off, and fumbled as she tried to make herself more clear. "In the reverence of creatures, that is. A rat or mouse is dirty, they are a pest and not to be heavily valued. A cat is noble and a lovely companion, a dog a playful and loving one." Oh, yes. That was making much more sense.

She rolled her shoulders as she felt her own little views becoming more straight forward, and she damned herself for putting off such heavy thinking, and putting her in a position where she must develop such thoughts as she spoke them.

She looked at Cassandra, then, swiveling her body so she faced her wholly. "Perhaps it has something to do with our own flaws? And how we see them in other creatures?" She wasn't quite sure how her words sounded, and she crinkled her nose as she prepared herself for a possible dismissal.