A Request

[Ixzo]

53rd of Autumn, 515AV
7th Bell, Morning
Wind Skins

Her arms were bare and her toes were cold, but Ixzo walked on, desperately trying to deny that Autumn was in full swing. It was easier when she had her own fur coat to keep her warm. The long grass that her sandals dove through ended as she walked further into the mass of tents. She had a mission today, and the Kelvic would be mad if she allowed the doom of winter-to-come ruin it for her.

She didn't like Autumn outside of Taloba. In Taloba, Autumn was the end of the rainy season, and that was all it signified. Outside of Taloba, Autumn signified death. Grass dried out, leaves fell from trees and although prey was plump, it was scarce, most of the creatures either travelled or hunkered down for the winter. She didn't like it.


Yet, when she found the shop she was looking for, the Kelvic couldn't help a giddy smile light her face. The Tattooing tent seemed all too familiar, even though she had never seen it before. The Shorn Skull's Tattoo Artist had grown to be one of her closest friends, for obvious reasons. The Kelvic didn't much mind the pain and enjoyed the art, and that obsession showed across all of her skin. Yet, even as a willing canvas, Ixzo had never before taken a closer look into the art. Chilly, Ixzo stuck her thin fingers under her vest warming them on her hot stomach. The woman who she had bought the vest from had pointed her in this direction. Apparently these Drykas liked foreigner's and what they could offer. Although Ixzo was sure she could offer no culture, the Kelvic thought it worth a try to learn.

[Ixzo]

"Good morning." She announced her entrance, ducking into the pavilion. At the moment, with the sun haven only risen a bell ago, there was no one getting work done. There was a boy, leaning over utensils, likely cleaning them, who looked up at her announcement. He flashed a smile, waved a greeting that seemed unique to the one she had learned, but still recognizable, and turned back to his work.

Unsure of what to do, Ixzo stood there for a moment, until he had finish carefully cleaning the teeth of one of the tools. He set the small metal comb down and sprung up, grinning at her. "Injal!" The boy called out before stepping over to her and offering a hand in greeting. Ixzo only stared at it for a moment before gripping his palm to shake it.

"You've come to get work done?" He asked, eyeing the ink that lined her arms, and the scars that she proudly exposed over her collar bones. Perhaps he was wondering where else she could fit ink.

"Work, yes." She nodded, thinking he already assumed she wanted a job. Learn. She signed, releasing his hand. He gave her a quizzical look.

"You've come to work," Occupation, Pay. He signed a few words, of which she only caught two. "Or for work?" Art. He signed and then a few words she didn't understand. Yet she managed to understand the small details that differentiated the two meanings.


Pay. Learn. "To work." She tried to explain to him, hating the language barrier. "I want to learn to tattoo, I was given directions from the fur-woman in the market." She began blubbering in Myrian, knowing he would not understand, but doing it more for her own comfort. It was that or growling at him in frustration, which the human wouldn't take kindly too.

[Ixzo]

When someone else walked into the tent from a connecting one, golden eyes stole towards the form, watching his approach. The bearded man grinned at her and offered another strange variant of the Pavi greeting she knew. She returned the general sign, realizing this man as one of the owners, where she was talking to an apprentice. The boy she was talking to turned to the man, his tongue racing her comprehension as he spoke to Injal. She thought she understood pieces, getting only a side-view of the signs, she wasn't sure she did. But the quick conversation, although not hidden to her, ended with a grin from Injal.

"May I see you're tattoos?" He asked, holding a palm out. Curious, Ixzo laid her forearm on his palm, presenting the oldest one, depicting the waves of the Kanduktu basin to him. The ink had faded slightly, and stretched with her growth, but it was her first. He nodded, gently twisting her arm to look at the trail leading up from her wrist to the flowers on her shoulder. There was no color to her ink, but the simple examination seemed to be convincing him of something.

"You may not have any skill." He signed a word that she could only closely translate two ignorant, but not in a demeaning manor. "But you know about the ink of your people." An unabashed hand reached up to motion towards her scars on her chest. "And a tradition I do not know about." He said. Teach and Learn. He signed, it was a trade of intellect and skill. "I'll pay you while you learn. But I would love to hear about what you do, for these." Scars, beauty. He signed. Ixzo grinned with the gory knowledge of what lay inside to keep the pattern raised from her skin. But she grinned wider when he asked when she could start.

"Any day." She answered, hoping he would allow her in today.

"I don't have time today, come the day after tomorrow." Morning, early. He signed, turning away. "I would like to see you draw." He stated, a friendly grin distracted as another Drykas walked into the room. The apprentice boy looked at her, and grinned as well.

[Tribal]

G R A D E S

Ixzo

Experience

• Logic: 1
• Socialisation: 1
• Observation: 1

Lore

• Logic: Autumn means death
• Location: Wind Skins
• Drykas: Pavi
• Drykas: Grassland Sign
• Ixzo: A new job

Notes

Sorry there wasn't much I could offer but it seemed more story based than anything (which I always enjoy). Looking forward to seeing how this line of work pans out for Ixzo.