Two Faces, One Person[Ayatah]

[Halin'a]

11 Summer, 514AV I hate heat, Halin'a thought, scowling briefly to himself as he tugged at the hem of his shirt. Actually, no-- I hate humidity, he corrected himself, giving up and simply pulling the shirt off altogether. He was out here looking for clients, anyway-- being half-naked would probably help. It would definitely help Halin'a feel even slightly more comfortable, without the fabric sticking to his skin. Halin'a gazed longingly in the direction of the docks-- a dip in the harbor would be amazing right now. Unfortunately, Madame Zana would have his horns if he snuck out. Which sucked, because Halin'a kind of needed this job. Oh, be honest, Halin'a chided himself, offering a smile to a couple of passing girls as he stretched, showing off his chest and taut stomach. The girls tittered but kept walking; Halin'a had honestly been expecting that. Their clothing was too nice for girls who would stoop to buy a prostitute. That's not the real reason you stick around. You want to help people in any way you can, and that includes keeping an eye on the customers interested in the smaller girls. Loveless got a lot of sailors for customers, and while all of the girls(and the boys, too) who worked for Madame Zana knew the basics of self-defense, sailors usually had a good bit of bulk on their hired girls. Speed and agility didn't really help against a man who knew how to use his weight and was used to balancing on the deck of a ship and could move just as well. Halin'a was another whore, not a security guard, but he had interrupted more than one fight through brute force and knowing how to make himself appear intimidating. It usually didn't take more than growling menacingly and tossing his head so the lamplight glinted off of his horns just so to menace the drunken man into backing away from the woman so that she could run to a security guard. Or so she could kick the other guy in the crotch, depending on the girl. Rolling his shoulders, Halin'a continued moving through his well-practiced routine: Stretch, smile, bend, strut, repeat. The Ethaefal made every move deliberate, drawing as many eyes to him as he could, and he made sure to smile at each person he made eye contact with-- if it was a woman, he let his gaze darken while raking up and down her form, and if it was a man, he licked his lips suggestively while eyeing them boldly. He got more than a few flustered reactions, and some men actually took offense to him eyeing them up-- but come on. Halin'a was a worker for Loveless; he was standing right outside the building for Nikali's sake, the sign clear as day. It was well-known that Halin'a didn't care for gender in his clients, so long as he got paid and they both had a good time. Seeing that there was a brief lull in passersby, Halin'a took the opportunity to growl at the sky; really, it was summer, but it was nighttime, for crying out loud. It shouldn't still be this humid! Approaching footsteps caught Halin'a's attention, and he glanced down the street, doing a double-take when he saw the approaching woman. It was Ayatah, the Myrian who had trained Halin'a the other day. Grinning, Halin'a temporarily abandoned his post and seductive pose in favor of taking a step towards Ayatah. "Hello," he called, grinning. "Didn't think I'd see you in this part of town; you didn't strike me as the kind to wander around brothels."

[Ayatah]

The night had a pleasant warmth to it, in Ayatah's view. Having grown up in the sweltering heat of Taloba, where one could not walk more than half a foot without sweating and gasping for hot air, the Zeltivan summer was almost cool to Aya. It amused the half-breed how everyone - the rich, the poor, the desolate - were united, albeit on rather sweaty terms, in their mutual hatred of the summer heat. Weather evened the playing field; it effected the wealthy and poor alike.

Unfortunately, Aya's helpful comments of 'oh, it's not that hot, really' were not appreciated. Where she intended to comforting, it seemed she was actually regarded as even more of a pest. Talking about this (apparently unbearable) heat and comparing it to that of her jungle homeland merely reminded Ayatah's conversational partners that she was Myrian, and thus only worthy of fear and dislike.

It was just as well that Aya had not come to Zeltiva to make friends.

Instead, she had arrived to learn, and learn she had! Ayatah had sucked up the Zeltivan culture like a sponge. By listening into various conversations (which were now usually about the weather), she had managed to rehearse, and speak with, a Zeltivan accent. This simple change worked wonders for her social calendar. People did not realise the truth about her heritage until they were told, and, if it saved her being chastised, Aya was sure as petch not going to say anything.

So, surprising herself as much as her pet bird Kiwi, Ayatah had spent the evening in the Kelp Bar with actual friends! It truly was a remarkable event, and although most of the evening had been spent by Aya avoiding all questions about herself, she had actually enjoyed the outing.

Her friends were a colourful group, mainly made of current students who were either artsy types or alcoholics. As she was neither, Ayatah was walking home alone. This had caused quite the uproar amongst her friends, who seemed horrified at the idea of a young woman walking through the streets alone at night. The half-Eypharian had merely laughed along, keeping quiet about the two daggers under her outer-clothes.

As she strode along one street - Aya saw it pointless to learn the specific names of alleys or areas - someone spoke to her. Both hands instantly went to Ayatah's hips, where her daggers were sheathed and concealed. She was not scared, but wary. The voice belonged to a face she did not know; for a tick her obsidian eyes scanned the length of the man on front of her. He was a son of Leth - a race that certainly intrigued Ayatah, but one that she had barely socialised with. "Who are you?" She demanded, pulling each dagger out of their holders just enough to reveal a pale glint of blade.

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[Halin'a]

As soon as he caught sight of the blades, Halin'a stopped and raised his hands-- he'd forgotten that he hadn't told Ayatah that he was an Ethaefal; he'd told her he was a prostitute, yes, but not an Ethaefal. "My name is Halin'a," he said, keeping his hands where Ayatah could see them; he didn't want to accidentally present himself as a threat. "You trained me the other day," he added, hoping that that would help the half-Myrian remember him. "I must say," he couldn't help but add, "I didn't expect to see you in this part of town."

[Ayatah]

Halin'a

Yes, Aya remembered the name, and the face -- the other face. He had been an impressive student, a quick learner. He had not been, by Aya's memory, a horned man. "Oh. Oh!" The two sounds left her mouth in quick succession; the first indicated her confusion and the second would let Halin'a know that the penny had finally dropped. "You're a Son of Leth." The statement was more a confirmation for herself than the man in front of her.

She regarded him carefully, as if concerned his appearance would change yet again in front of her very eyes. There were some similarities, she could notice, but by and large she would have never realised the Ethaefal in front of her was the young man she met with a few days ago. She was amazed, intrigued. Aya had known of the Sons and Daughters of Leth and Syna, but she had never knowingly met one in both forms.

"I was just passing through," she said slowly - still a little bewildered. Must be the wine."

Ayatah glanced around herself. She had not consciously realised where she was walking; she had simply been making her brisk way back home. Now, however, she looked at the brothel with the same strange interest with which he had regarded Halin'a. Both were mysterious, unknown to her. "I forgot you mentioned that you worked here." She said quietly, not quite sure whether Halin'a took pride or shame in his work. "How have you been since our last meeting?"

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[Halin'a]

Halin'a grinned when Ayatah put the pieces together, lowering his own hands and taking a small step towards the Myrian. "I have been good," he answered. "Business has been brisk." For the first two weeks or so of the season, things usually went one of two ways for a brothel: They became absolutely dead, or they were so busy there weren't enough whores to go around. This time it had been the latter, and Halin'a had worked a lot. Not that he was complaining, per se, it was just that he would have liked to have had some more free time than what he was getting. "And you?" the Ethaefal asked after a moment. "How have you been?"

[Ayatah]

Eventually, the half-Eypharian withdrew her hands from the daggers at her hips. A faint smile had now replaced the confused look on her face: she had become a solider at ease. "I am well, thank you." In truth, she had done very little since their last meeting; it was a quiet time in the Myrian's life, and one that she wasn't entirely comfortable with. "Have you trained since our last meeting?" The question was not an interrogation, but general wonder. Aya had only successfully taught other Myrian students, so it was more a general query of her teaching techniques.

A drunken, stinking man had staggered past the two of them, heading straight towards the brothel that lurked in the shadows. Ayatah coughed uncomfortably; the idea of selling sex was a strange idea to her jungle culture, and knowing that such smelly hulking men were inside groping at young women (and men) did not sit well with the half-breed.

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[Halin'a]

Halin'a nodded in answer to Aya's question. "Not a lot, but yes, I have had chance to work some more with the blade. It's a bit harder to do hand-to-hand by yourself, though," he added thoughtfully. Halin'a easily sidestepped the drunk, and when he looked back to Aya, there was no missing the look on her face-- she was uncomfortable with where they were standing. "I'd offer to walk with you a little ways away from here, but I can't dodge out anymore; I don't have any more favors to call in," he said apologetically. Because he was an Ethaefal, there was a surprisingly(or maybe not-so-surprising) high demand for him to warm clients' bed. Not just the clients that came to the brothel itself, but private clients, clients that paid extraordinarily well to have a night with a son of Leth. Halin'a had a deal going with Madame Zana: He would take private clients, but in return for every three private clients he took, she owed him one night off whenever he wanted it. It had taken awhile to get the woman to agree to it, but she'd eventually caved. "Do people not sell sex in your home?" Halin'a asked curiously; he'd assumed that prostitution was commonplace throughout pretty much all of Mizahar, but maybe it wasn't as common as he'd thought.

[Ayatah]

Ayatah smiled. She was all too aware of the troubles of solo training. "Oh yes, there's only so much the imagination can do." Many such training sessions had ended in frustration and moodiness for the half-Eypharian. When she turned back Halin'a, having watched the drunkard stumble into the brothel, she tried her upmost to look less comfortable.

To his question, she smiled awkwardly. "I do not mean offense." Her raised in an automatic offering of peace and politeness. "Myrians are very passionate, and there's nothing stopping us--" she tried to pick a more delicate term of phrase, "--being with anyone we like. It's not frowned upon at all. But selling sex is just seen as... Unnecessary."

They were a matriarchal society, and no man would dare to force himself upon a woman, so if a Myrian male found his advances rejected, he would simply move onto another female to pursue. Equally, not many men would openly reject a female, for fear of insulting her publicly. Thus services that sold sex were not necessary. "It's just something I never considered until I came here." Even a degree in anthropology did not stop the Myrian from being surprised at the numerous cultural differences between that of her maternal people and the cities beyond Taloba.

oocI finally have proper internet! Yaaaaaay!

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[Halin'a]

"Oh, no offense taken," Halin'a hastened to reassure Ayatah. "Believe me, I never would have considered this as a job unless I needed the money; which I did. I didn't really have a lot of skills before I came to Zeltiva." The Myrian's explanation of the way things worked in Taloba made sense. "Not every culture sells sex," he said understandingly. "But we're a port city-- most of our customers are sailors who spend a lot of time on the sea, and don't want to bother seducing a woman-- or man, if that's their preference-- on the time they spend on land. They'd rather just buy it." Changing the subject, Halin'a asked, "Would you like to train again? I had a lot of fun the other day, and learned quite a bit. I'd like to do that again."

[Ayatah]

Ayatah smiled, relieved. Despite her degree in Anthropology, conversing with others about culture was still awkward. She had grown used to being interrogated ('Do you people really eat children?' 'Only if they're very naughty'), but did not want to inflict the unpleasantness on others. She knew that other cultures were just as proud as her own, and nobody liked being offended.

At the comment about sailors, she laughed. "Oh, I can imagine." On her journey from Falyndar to Riverfall, she had journeyed with a small crew of sailors. After only days at sea, they prowled the starboard hungrily like wolves. She had joked about it at the time, but looking back she remember those starved, wide-eyed stares and the constantly licking of parched lips. "Sailors are... energetic."

The half-breed nodded enthusiastically at his question about training again. "Of course!" She had enjoyed teaching him, and in fact, her enjoyment of imparting her knowledge had stirred Ayatah to seek a new job role. "It was fun to teach you. You're a fast learner."

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