Closed A Different Kind of Poison (Dexius)

[Aislyn Leavold]

50th of Summer, 516 AV

A key. Interesting.
Not an unreasonable request, she supposed. And he was right- fairly easy, too. What was puzzling was the situation in which the key was presented. Immediately, two things came to mind. First, the key was quite obviously of Alvad origin; it rotated slightly once let free, revealing the compass-like properties. But if Dexius had a key, he had a house, and that was a bit difficult to believe. The man had said he was new to the city, and he’d arrived amidst a huge influx of other travellers that also needed places to live. Second, because of that influx, to have a house would require an entirely new building to be built, and there was no way that could be completed in less than a season. But if the man had only arrived that summer… It didn’t add up. The key couldn’t have been his. It wasn’t possible.

He needed it for a certain person. Not even himself. That was even more peculiar. First he provides a key that couldn’t logically be his, then he wants an image drawn of it, and then the image is for someone else, whose identity he wouldn’t reveal. Perhaps a change of scenery really was in order- if she asked him to bring her to his home, he’d be forced to reveal whether or not the key was really his. If he had stolen it, he would be bringing her to the house of whoever he had robbed. That would certainly be a good circumstance- for her, at least- but it would seem forced for her to suddenly change her mind. She needed another course of action.

Procuring a fresh piece of charcoal, Aislyn picked up the key delicately, turning it over in her palm as she tried to imagine what such a thing would be like on paper. Momentarily setting it back down on the table, she awkwardly shifted the charcoal between her left hand and her right. Maya always drew with her right, but Thief had no true preference. Eventually, she settled on the right, allowing herself to pose the key with her freehand as she drew.
”I’ve just one more question, if you don’t mind.” She didn’t particularly care whether he minded or not, but it was worth saying regardless. ”Whose key is it?”

Turning her attention back to her work, Aislyn let her art fill the silence. After a few long ticks of uncomfortably leaning over the crate, the artist picked up her half of the parchment pieces and began to pace, using her notebook to support the charcoal strokes. This lasted for a chime before the artist came to the sharp realization that she was, indeed, supposed to be teaching Dexius something as well. With a rough shape on the parchment, she nodding absentmindedly towards him. ”Stationary objects are fairly simple.” Holding the key up once again, Aislyn inspected the engraving that decorated the metal. ”Use light lines first, then darker ones to cement the shape you want.”

Squinting at the writing, Aislyn made sense of the words. Strength is born of those with a burdened soul. Fascinating. Tossing a glance over to where Dexius stood, the woman wondered where he’d gotten such a saying from. He didn’t seem like a poet, but looks could certainly deceive. Turning the small trinket over, Aislyn found a similar saying on the back of the metal, printed in a similar style. Weakness is born of those with a perfect smile.
While the artist couldn’t claim the twin sayings were wrong, she did feel the words could be easily misguided. After all, ‘Maya’ was practically designed with a perfect smile- it was her main purpose. ‘Maya’ was the artist, the personality that shone when Syna’s rays touched the land. She was perfect; what it was expected of Aislyn to be. But was she weak?

When Maya had gained purchase of her own; a way to move independently of Aislyn herself, it had been quite obvious that Maya and Thief had not gotten along. If they hadn’t all been contained within one mind, she doubted the two would have been able to survive a bell in proximity to each other. Thief had poked fun at Maya’s ability to shoot. Was she somehow more confident with a bow in Thief’s hands than anyone else’s? Or was Maya’s skill just somehow dampened? If that was the case, maybe she shouldn’t have been the one to go gallivanting about the apocalypse when physical force had been required. To add onto such, Maya was the one that most betrayed the ideal of self-preservation.
Thief certainly thought her weak, but did Aislyn?

Twirling the key between her fingers, Aislyn took a long breath as she continued to sketch, her train of thought jumping from the key to Dexius, then the key again.
Perhaps the key’s words had some truth to them after all.

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

What had he really gotten himself into? At the end of a dark alley he was standing next to a woman he had never met before in his entire life and she was about to give him an art lesson. But why? She didn't seem like the kind of person who needed a quick coin, if she did he was sure the woman would have charged him more. He watched her as she picked up the key and inspected it slowly. The look in her eyes..it almost seemed like she was deconstructing everything about the small silver piece of jewelry.

That didn't matter though, that was exactly what he was paying her to do and was hoping for a good result. But it was strange, the indecision with which hand to use made him wonder even more about her. Could she draw with both hands? Perhaps she was considering getting practice in with her offhand but that seemed like an odd thing to do if she was going to be teaching him. "Another question? Okay, spit it out then, no need to ask permission." The tone of voice was a little more stern than he was used to. She didn't really seem to respond well to friendly banter so maybe his tone of voice should hold some sting as well? That question. He was really hoping to avoid this particular inquiry.

"Isn't that an obvious question with an obvious answer? The key belongs to me and me alone. I'm not a petching bandito so I don't know who's else it would be." He tried as hard as he could to try to imitate the tone of voice she used during her accusations a few chimes ago. The female artist moved away from her position at the crate, understandably so, it was not very comfortable to be leaning this far down, he might as well just sit on his knees. Scribbling on her parts of the parchment he wondered if she was even going to teach him or just draw it out herself.

Nodding in his direction she finally spoke her first words of the lesson which he quickly absorbed. Using light seemed like an easy enough task. He could easily make out even in this darkness the light pouring around and through every orifice of the chained key. But how could she do the same? It was almost pitch black here in the alley and the light that glimmered down from the sky should only be enough for a human to just make out their surroundings. Somehow though, she could see almost as fine as he could. Sure he could see that she needed to squint to read the words of wisdom engraved on the necklace but she shouldn't be able to see it at all.

She seemingly began to get lost in thought, no longer speaking nor drawing. What was going on in that head of hers? Now it was his turn to get some answers from the would be artist. "My turn for a question now. It was to my understanding that the eyesight of the human race was very restricted here in a low light setting. So how is it that you can just come to a dark alley, inspect very small engravings, and also be capable of putting art on paper? Most would be blind in your position but you seem perfectly capable." Venom. His words were much less friendly and now it was his turn to be the accuser. He needed to be cautious though, he knew a cornered spider was not afraid to bite back.

[Aislyn Leavold]

50th of Summer, 516 AV

Mine and mine alone. Yes, she believed that. As much as she believed that Alvadas’ streets never changed.
For a tick, the woman was tempted to lay out her evidence, but it seemed like a bad decision. It would give her plenty gratification in the moment, but there was no need to play all her cards at once. She was angry with the man, not with the situation. She did appreciate Dexius’ use of the word ‘bandito’, though. Good old throwing-your-words-back-in-your-face. Now they were at odds. True hostility. How fun.

”So when did you arrive?” There was no need in continuing that particular conversation. For the moment, at least. She’d get further into that pit of questioning later on. "In Alvadas, that is."

The conversation lulled for a moment, and Aislyn decided it was probably her turn to speak. She might not like the man, but she did have a job to do. ”Shading is pretty easy at a basic level, too. Just push harder and draw longer where the light doesn’t shine.” On her paper, she had finished copying the sayings that decorated the metal. The drawing looked rather flat, but that was to be expected considering she hadn’t actually made an effort to add dimension yet. With a few delicate strokes, the key began to come to life. It was colourless, of course, but shading always helped that. The light in the image came from the right, casting shadows on ‘born’ and almost obscuring the word ‘strength’ entirely.

When Dexius mentioned asking a question, Aislyn momentarily paused in her sketching. He didn’t have a right to ask questions; that wasn’t the agreement. She hadn’t even heard anything of this ‘carnivorous home’ yet, but he was already pushing her for answers. Turning away from the man, the artist curled her form, as if concentrating on her work. For a moment, she was quiet. Eyesight. Of course. She’d been a fool, thinking herself to be in safe circumstances when she so easily gave hints away. She’d picked out his ability to see in the dark, of course he’d pick out hers. She had to be more careful. Every mistake was a threat to her very being.

He wanted an answer. Lie. Lie, lie, lie. Thief was good at lying. But she'd failed before; being questioned was not something she enjoyed doing often, after all. She had practiced this, though. After the first time ‘Thief’ had been unmasked, she had developed an answer for every question.
Unfortunately, eyesight was not something she had expected to be probed on.

”Your understanding is flawed, obviously.” Her illusions were one thing, but her blood was another. Ionu couldn't help her now. ”But that's to be expected. You're not human, after all.” Her heart was in her throat and was beating rather fast considering the circumstance, but she managed. Control. She would have control. Despite the decent night time temperature, she shivered. Her words had come off a bit more hostile than she would have liked, but then again, she could deal with that. She’d done worse before. Anyways, Dexius appeared to be adopting her hostility, so why would he expect a kind response? He wasn't the one that was meant to be asking questions, after all.

”Now, it was my understanding that you were to be providing the answers here.” Change the subject. Distract them. Work around the question. Lie, lie, lie. ”Do you actually have anything worth sharing, or are you going to be interrogating me the whole time?” Absentmindedly, she reached back to make sure she still had bolts in her quiver. She'd only wasted one, meaning there should have been a good nine others actively sheathed. She had the knife secured to her leg that should have been well out of sight, plus the bladed shoes. Unfortunately, Aislyn had passed on bringing the wrist knife to steal away in her boot, but she wouldn't make such a mistake next time. Mentally, she tallied up every single fault she’d made so far. Every miscalculation, every misstep, it all counted. It added up in the end, after all.
Every tick mattered.

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

These personal questions were beginning to tick him off a little. He had offered her information about his home not himself. But it seemed, for now at least, that she was more interested in knowing his position here in Alvadas, for whatever that would tell her. Picking up a piece of the charcoal she had so unceremoniously broken earlier Dex began to tap it on the crate slightly as he thought about his arrival. When had he arrived in the city? It seemed like it was yesterday but also like an eternity had passed since then. The ninth..that was right, he arrived on the ninth of this season and stupidly gotten himself lost in the city just a few chimes later. "It was on the ninth I believe. The streets were full and the city had me fairly distracted that day but i'm sure it was the ninth. But what did that matter to you?"

Looking down at the paper on the crate Dex realized that he had bent one of the corners a bit too much while fiddling with it. An attempt to fold it back to flatness was of course met with failure. Paper seemed to have a mind of it's own when it came to creases and now it had a permanent bend mark. "Perfect." Ignoring the less than flat corner of the paper he reinvested his attention to her newest lesson about lighting and shading. Pressing the small piece of charcoal to the parchment he drew a small line but lacking any pressure it was fairly light. His first attempt at any type of drawing was, at first glance, a fairly straight line. He chalked it up to his experience with his weapon, steady hand made a steady blade after all. Pressuring the paper with his tool again he darkened in the light streak but he quickly realized he couldn't maintain the same straight line so at each end there was a jagged mess of points. "How could anybody possibly draw over the same area countless times without making a catastrophe out of the situation?"

The woman proceeded to turn away from him for a few ticks, following his previous inquiry. He caught what seemed like a puzzled glance from her as she returned to her original facing. She had to take time out to think of an answer so did that mean she was trying to find a way to explain it easily or to make one up? The woman seemed like somebody who would quickly come up with a lie to cover her tracks. The dark clothing and tough demeanor only helped add to that fact and surely something about this meeting was a facade, he just wasn't sure what it was yet. "Flawed you say? My experiences tell me otherwise, in fact, they have done nothing but reaffirm to me that your people have issues with the dark." This always seemed true as some merchants came to the city of Kalinor to trade for the famous silk his people weaved and every time he saw one of these men if it was human it usually carried a light source. Rightly so he was not human, but his people were no so far off from the pink skinned humanoids. A short Symenestra with clipped nails and the right clothing could possibly pass as a human, so long as they didn't show their sharp teeth.

Snapping back out of thought as she turned the table of questioning back on him Dex realized his line was now a very large, very black blob in the center of the parchment. Carefully, he flipped it over, maybe she shouldn't notice his absent minded blunder. "If you have a question to ask about my home then do it. But i'm not going to just sit here and give you the shortened history of it. Ask and i'll tell, simple as that really. As far as interrogations go, would it really so bad to get to know each other? We may be seeing more of each other after tonight, if we are to be exchanging coin and information after all." Clearly countering aggression with aggression was not the key to conversation here. Perhaps he should return to a more passive or positive stance, but she didn't really seem to respond to those well either. Maybe she just didn't like to talk at all.

Sighing to himself because he could no longer bear being slumped down so far over the crate in front of him. So after unhooking his scabbard from his waist and resting it against the side of the crate he decided to get down on his left knee. At least from this position he could work on this paper without putting so much strain on his back. His sword would still be within easy reach, if he needed it, of course.

Rapier visual :

[Aislyn Leavold]

50th of Summer, 516 AV

The ninth. That wasn’t nearly enough time.

With a decent recreation of the key’s details on her paper, Aislyn tossed the small key back towards the man in a low arc. Without checking to see if he caught it, she drew out her own key, which swayed in the direction of the alley’s exit as if in protest. ”It doesn’t matter to me.” Curling her hand into a fist around the string, she shrugged. ”It just seems rather strange for someone so new to already own something so…” There wasn't a word to describe what she was thinking. ”Alvadas.”

For a moment Aislyn was almost enjoying herself, until Dexius’ words brought her back to the unfortunate circumstance of being questioned by the man. He had to ruin everything, didn't he? ”That’s rather insulting, isn’t it?” Think like an innocent. Think like a human. Not like that was difficult. After all, Aislyn had never spoken the word ‘father’ in her life, nevermind actually knowing the monster. It was a strange moment to come to the realization that she, for once, didn’t have to act in order to lie. She was human. Just… Not. ”To judge a race so completely based on the experience of the few.”

”After all, aren’t you supposed to be a bloodthirsty night terror?” Aislyn knew very well such legends weren’t exactly accurate, but it also was inaccurate to say tales never held truth within them. Legends of maiden-harvesting bloodsuckers came to mind, mixed partially with gruesome tales of similarly acting Zith. Minus the fangs, of course.
Alvadas had taught the illusionist early on how deceiving appearances could be, but her mother had firsthand experience with the cruelty of such stereotypes when they were true. That much was proven by Aislyn’s existence at all.

”A question. Alright.” What was there to ask? She knew nothing of this city of spiders. ”Name of the city. Easy enough, is it not?” She paused for a moment, pondering her second question. How could she expect an answer when she knew no questions to ask? ’I’m not going to just sit here and give you the shortened history of it.’ Well, wasn’t that exactly what the deal had been?
”Next. What’s the shortened history of the city?” Gods, she was a piece of shyke. But it wasn’t like she was doing it without reason- he had told her to ask questions, after all- and that was certainly a question. Her questions needed to build upon what she already knew, and considering she knew very little, it wasn’t exactly easy to build such foundationless inquiries.

”Perhaps we will meet again,” Hopefully not. Though Dexius could be useful in the long run… ”Perhaps we won’t. So we save the interrogations for that second meeting.” The second meeting, in which she would have already prepared herself for any and everything he could throw at her. Metaphorically and literally, of course.

When the man reached for his sword, Aislyn thought for half a tick she had gone too far with her words, prompting him to draw his weapon. For that half tick, she considered perhaps a change in attitude was in order; Thief was not one for first impressions, after all. But the movement ended in a sigh and resting the blade on the ‘table’ instead, allowing the woman a moment of relief. A sword was certainly threatening, whether the person behind it knew how to use it or not. Such a skill could definitely be useful. How much could she learn in one night? She had no plans on sleeping, after all.

The only question was how long the two could stand each other before someone ended up with a blade in their back.

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

Jumping quickly to his feet, Dex made sure that he could catch the flying key without any errors. But, he was not always the most collected individual so he ended up fumbling with and almost dropping the silver necklace to the ground. "How could she just throw it through the air? What if it got scratched..what if it broke? Then again..she doesn't know what it means..now would she probably even care." "You're probably right..so strange for somebody to new to a city to have something to call his own. But.." Dex looked down at the key he held tightly in his hands, both grasping, one on each end. "But..this was a gift to me, and it might be strange or foreign or even difficult for you to understand but this..this small thing is my most prized possession.."

Perhaps he was being too rough with the woman, he didn't know what she had been through before but she clearly had an affinity for the dark. Dex pondered for a moment whether or not eyesight was a radically different from human to human, when it came to seeing in the dark that is. But it didn't really matter, did it? Just because he had seen a fair amount of humans in his life would not mean he knew them like the tip of his rapier. "Look, I don't mean to insult you Raimu, I was just going on what I've gathered over the years when it came to your people. But being a night terror?"He knew exactly what she meant, of course. Whisking women away to Kalinor for the sake of reproduction was a very real thing so she was not incorrect. Being the firstborn to his family this was a task that he was meant to undertake, though, he had obviously never completed.

"We can all be the terrors of our own night Raimu. In our darkest moments here we can all become the thing we desire to be furthest from. If you think me a terrifying thing, then perhaps do something about it. Otherwise, accept the fact that deep inside yourself is something that you conceal, because you hate the fact that it might rear it's head one day. Everybody has their demons, everyone can be the bloodthirsty night terror you speak of." He sighed, rather loudly this time as he looked down at the key once more. His feelings so boiled that he could feel it in his blood. "I've never met her..yet I care so much for this trinket..and to maybe be more like her.."

Dex appeared more than lost in thought for around ten, no, he would wait twenty ticks before responding to her inquiry. "Kalinor is the name of my birthplace. You really had to go and ask a question like that? What a little shyke you are when you want to be. Long story short, my people used to live in the forests. We supposedly had a great city then as we do now, but then a certain world changing event occurred, i'm sure you heard about it. So my people moved underground and stayed there, they adapted to their new home in a dark cave and stayed there. Couldn't get any more history than that I suppose, anything else you want to know, ask, otherwise it's too broad for me to just talk about everything."

He figured he had given her a sufficient amount of information for the time being, besides, how many human women get to know about the inside of Kalinor and live to talk about it. Not many he supposed, but Dex was not just here to give he was also here to take. "Perhaps we will meet again, or not, I guess it doesn't really matter. But I have enlightened you a fair share, how about some for me about this charcoal and paper. Unless you'd rather me ask another personal question about you?" Dex couldn't help but taunt the woman, he found enjoyment in there little power struggle. Still, he felt like she was hiding something, a product from her earlier pause. Was it that she was planning his demise, a blade in his neck perhaps? Maybe he just caught her off guard, who knows, but he would get what he wanted here regardless.

[Aislyn Leavold]

50th of Summer, 516 AV

For a moment, all hostility appeared to evaporate from the situation, momentarily replaced with sincerity. A gift to him? By who? She was in no position to pry, but the curiosity was there nonetheless. Despite the pause in hostility, however, his words still nettled her. ‘Strange or foreign or difficult to understand’. She was cautious, not sub-human.
…
Perhaps partially sub-human, but that was of no fault of her own.
To her side, her hand clenched and unclenched. She felt the urge to reach for her locket, which- as always- was hidden beneath her shirt. Atop it, the Eye resided, a visual replacement for the hidden locket beneath her clothing. A gift. Prized possession.
No, she couldn’t possibly understand what he meant. Not at all.

In a moment of contemplation, Aislyn wondered what she was doing this for. How she had ended up in the situation at all. She’d never been faced with such a situation before. The illusion of the night, forced to be the artist. A strange circumstance indeed.

His words sunk in slowly. Accept the fact that deep inside yourself is something that you conceal, because you hate the fact that it might rear its head one day. This was too close for comfort. Just as soon as the mood had softened, she was on the defense again. Coincidence. Of course. Unlike his words, however, her demons were buried not only skin-deep, but behind her eyes as well. Also unlike him, it seemed, she had accepted long ago that things were not going to change.
One-half of her self was largely hated by approximately one-half the population. Alvadas was kind, but the city had no control over who came to visit within its walls. Every passing face was a danger, as it had always been. In the past, his words would have triggered fear. Paranoia. An immediate give away; a forced reveal of what she tried so hard to hide. Even in present time, the specificity of his tales of the bloodthirsty night terrors sped up her heart rate a fair bit. He knew. No, he couldn’t. There was no way.

She was in control. She would remain in control.

Kalinor. And it seemed her jest had rather irked the man. Good. Being a little shyke was distracting from being a little half-Zith. Or worse. That was decent enough information, though. Certainly worth what she was giving in return. Silently absorbing the words, Aislyn turned with her sketchbook in hand, putting the finishing touches on the key drawing. A sharp remark of No, she had most definitely never heard of the Valterrian in her life sat on her mind for a moment, but she held her tongue for the moment. They had an agreement. For now.
The drawing had dimension, now, and she began to work on a shadow. The string curled behind the charcoal recreation, like it was laying on a parchment table. It dampened the fun of the encounter, but perhaps the banter was to stall for now.

”There’s no need for that. Keep your questions to yourself.” He’d believed it. She had done it. Her pulse calmed slightly, allowing her a moment to breathe. Just as the coincidence of words had once crippled her, successful lies had once been few and far between. ”Shadows exist on and off parchment. To ignore the light ignores realism,” Of course, surrealism was Aislyn’s favoured form, but for now she needed reality. To recreate something on paper as it existed in reality. ”Figure out where the light shines on your paper, and stick to that pattern.”

To ignore the shadows caused the image to have an unnatural appearance to it. Most situations had one source of light; one shadow. One side dark, one side light.

Taking a look down at her hands, Aislyn turned her palms over and back, idly brushing a bit of the charcoal dust off her fingertips. The dusting didn’t do much for the black colouring, but it at very least avoided staining the paper she worked on.
”I forgot to warn you,” Charcoal was a fickle medium, but it was a familiar one. ”Charcoal smudges easily. Keep your palms away from the paper as you draw, if you don’t want a black splotch as an end result.” Throwing a bemused glance at the Symenestra’s second attempt at a drawing, she shrugged.

”Smudges make shoddy keys, after all.”

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

"Just push harder and draw longer where the light doesn’t shine." The words rung out in Dex's head again and again as he returned, for the moment at least, to his first attempts at drawing. For now the woman was not speaking her mind, a first so far since he had met her. This gave him the opportunity to double down on on this new battle against the parchment, his weapon, a piece of broken charcoal. Alvadas must have had some interesting plans for tonight if it led him down to this particular alley just to learn how to draw. Holding up the key in front of him Dex mimicked her earlier actions in an attempt to the find light lines she spoke so highly of. Too bad it was the middle of the night and there was only one source of light, it would have to do though.

Pressing down, with effort this time he started to shape out the outline of the key. Both sides of the shaft appeared on the paper in a rough parallel, though, how would he get the round shape? Regardless, Dex continued on with his endeavor, attempting to replicate the teeth of the key which, of course, ended up more like a bunch of jagged edges instead. Pausing for a moment he looked up at his teacher for possible advice. Instead, he saw her merely opening and closing her first for a few moments. Weird. He hadn't said anything in the last few ticks to annoy the woman since he was focused on the drawing in hand, so what had caused this reaction?

Perhaps his previous words had left a mark on her? Everybody had their own demons they must face regardless of who they are or where they come from, but what could hers be? In time perhaps he would find out what she had been through, or maybe not. Or he could tell her the things he had been through...maybe not. Dex's mind raced to the moment of his best friend's demise but for a few ticks, just long enough to remind him of his failure to her. Shaking off the memory he reasserted his focus to the present, to the drawing in front of him. She finally spoke again, no more personal question about her then. "Well perhaps then I may ask you something less about yourself and more about the city I have come to reside in? In Kalinor it is traditional for my people to respect and worship Viratas, the god of essence. Since blood is the connection all living things have to each other it is simple for a small city like mine to have respect for each Web that lives within. Family is the most important thing there and through generations all Symenestra are family through blood. But on to the question I had mentioned. The people of Kalinor worship Viratas but here in Alvadas I hear the name Ionu spoken regularly. I assume he or she is the patron deity here in the city and I want to...be able to understand more of the culture, fit in here a little more."

Light and shadows again, her explanation was beginning to sound more like a repeating dance than an expression of art. The light only shines down from the sky, so he figured he would start with that. Dex finished up the head of the key, which was a simple round shape before looking to shade anything in. Her words rang out in his ear again as he was about to make his first attempt at anything more remotely complicated. "It smudges easily, great." Dex looked down at his right hand and noticed he was beginning to get bits of charcoal on the outer portion of his palm. Even more obvious than that though was the palm itself. Now blackened from holding the medium for so long it stood as complete contrast to his natural skin color. His ashen white skin stood out brightly around the marks the charcoal had left on him. "Normally, Symenestra only have pale skin. So this is an interesting change..I wonder what it would be like to be able to change one's skin to whatever color they desired." To that notion, Dex merely shrugged at himself, not that it was possible to change yourself anyway.

"Now..how do I get this to..not look so flat? I'm not exactly sure how to get the more rounded shape to the shaft here.." Still holding the key with his left hand, Dex pressed it lightly against the side of his face for a few moments. "Eventually i'll get it right, then I can fix what is ruined.." His voiced seemed like it trailed off into the distance, his thoughts clearly not of the situation he was currently in.

[Aislyn Leavold]

50th of Summer, 516 AV

It seemed Dexius was about as good at drawing as he was conversing. The strokes he took were shaky, as if uncertain in their purpose. The few moments he moved quickly were with reckless abandon, turning the blunt teeth of the key into sharp canines of metal, despite what she had told him. Watching the scene unfold from a distance, it was almost entertaining. The best part of teaching, in her opinion, was experiencing how much better she was at her profession than others. Of course, if she were fair, this was quite possibly the Symenestra’s first time picking up a piece of charcoal, whilst Aislyn had been drawing all her life. As she let him explore just how far he could get with the drawing, her eyes found her hands again, leading into every line and crease on the smudged hand. She’d been drawing for a long time, hadn’t she?
For two years as of that summer, she had been creating her art for coin. The artist had been complimented on her talent many times- mainly in repeat commissioners- though the word ‘talent’ had always had a connotation to it that had bothered her. ‘Talent’ implied her work was natural, like she had been born with a tiny scrap of charcoal in her hands. ‘Talent’ was not what she had. What she had was the result of locking herself in a house big enough to pace in- nothing else- and drawing. For bells upon bells; from the moment she woke to the moment exhaustion took over. A repeat cycle, with very little deviation. Some days she had eaten, sometimes not. Some days she had wondered why she continued at all.

For three years, the cycle had turned. Trapped by walls she drew up herself, she had poured herself into the art she created. That was not talent. That was obsession, thrown into a skill. The hundred of parchment scraps that covered the walls of her abode were proof of that; a commitment, perhaps. Or a distraction from what she might have attempted should she have nothing else to do.

Grateful for something else to think about, Aislyn paused for a few moments before answering Dexius’ question. Viratas, the god of essence. A new title for a new god. The god of the Symenestra, it seemed, from the way the man described the deity. A god of blood, for a race of blood drinkers- or presumed blood drinkers, at least. An old wives tale was just a tale, after all; the truth it held was yet to be determined.
As the Symenestra spoke, the respect he had for the god was obvious. A different kind of respect from what Aislyn had experienced with most Alvads, though; a dutiful respect, like it was his sworn responsibility to have faith. As far as she knew, Ionu had no such connection to any particular race. A city, yes, but no race appeared to be sired by the god of illusion. Those devoted to them were devoted based on faith alone, rather than obligation. A faith stronger than obligation; an unbiased faith.

”Ionu controls the domain of illusions,” It had been many times Aislyn had been asked to speak on her favoured deity’s behalf, and it had been many times she had spoken almost the same speech every time. Asking about a god was the quickest way to reveal the god’s marked, after all, and Aislyn planned on doing no such thing. The key, as far as she had seen, was to say nothing of what gifts the deity offered, nor the possibility of a follower sharing the power of the god. There was a fine line between worship and absolute devotion, of which Aislyn was wary to cross. Dexius was not someone she planned on enlightening entirely, especially considering how close his philosophy came to her reality. ”They mold and create the illusions that are let free about Alvadas, watching over the city. To displease Ionu is to displease Alvadas, and vice versa.” Dexius certainly seemed like the type to end up displeasing either or both, considering his recklessness with words. Not that Aislyn would mourn him if he did go and get himself smitten by the living city.

At the man’s mention of changing skins, Aislyn forcefully stilled the fidgeting in her hands. Once was coincidence, twice was suspicious. The man was a fool, that much was obvious, but the truth question was in whether he was a lucky idiot or a deceitful genius. Still, for a moment the illusionist allowed herself a note of congratulations. For the moment, the night was a success. Since the winter, her illusions had grown more solid, her faith stronger, and most importantly, her secrets more secure. She was locking herself down, one weakness at a time. This was just a test. A test she intended to pass.

”Flat?” Taking a look at the upended image lying in front of the man, Aislyn tilted her head slightly to understand the upside-down drawing. ”Add dimension. If you look at something straight-on, it appears flat, with nothing behind it,” All things had dimension. Keys, tables, people. All had more than one face, more than one side. It was all just a matter of how those sides appeared, and how defined the lines were drawn. ”But from an angle, you see more than one side at a time.”

It was easy to ignore the ignorant words of the man when she was busying herself teaching him how to draw, but the second language he kept switching to was a constant reminder of the hostility that had dominated prior.
”Translation.” Surely this couldn’t have been accidental once again? ”In common, if you would.”

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

He was never much of an artist, that much was clear based on the rough lines that made up his very first drawing. His only attempt at something artistic was some fairly awful attempts at playing the flute but he hadn't done that in some time, with good reason. He had spent many days relaxing at a spot just a mile outside of Kalinor enjoying the view and more importantly the music. His best friend's ability to play the flute was unrivaled, at least to his ears. He could listen to it for hours on end and he had of course done so. Listening though, soon was not enough. He wanted to be able to play the small wind instrument as well so she sat him down and taught him the basics bit by bit. Of course he was never able to play like she could so he placed his flutist ability around slightly better than crying baby at best. Still, at least attempting to learn something ..artsy had opened his eyes that it was possible if not required to become more worldly. It was likely that anything he could learn about well, basically anything could aid his sword arm. Steady hands and precise timing were fundamentals to playing his instrument of choice and this only bolstered the foundations of handling the rapier.

Some would say that skill with a sword was an art on its own. Dex wasn't so sure of this conceived notion quite yet. What he did know was that wielding his rapier was the closest to a new form of expression he ever felt. With the blade flowing through the air striking, stinging, and piercing his given target made Dex feel like a completely different person. Perhaps that was what being an artist meant though. Pushing one's self through their medium of choice to create, or in his case destroy was in essence art. Whatever was left behind either by charcoal or iron was essentially the same creation in the eyes of the user. Perhaps wielding a sword could be an art but it wasn't exactly a theory Dex was willing to reach out and test right now.

For now he was too busy hearing about the patron god of his new home, who knew, perhaps this Ionu would also take a place next to Viratas in his heart. "Ionu controls illusions huh? Well that would explain a lot about the city I suppose. Some of the things I've seen around seem like they would have come from a child's story or perhaps even their nightmares I suppose." To control illusions meant to control the perspective of everyone in the city, a powerful capability to say the least. "You describe Ionu as they, does that imply something specific or have I tripped up and missed something already?" They, they is who exactly? Talking of Ionu and then using they to describe said god or goddess..what could that mean? Perhaps the god of illusion was fond of many forms but who was he to know? But displeasing a city was not something he wanted on the top of his list any time soon.

All in the angle? Everything always seemed to transition back into swordplay no matter what he was learning. After turning the key in his hand Dex had come to realize the flaw in his original attempt. It did appear flat as Raimu said it would but he would try again. Turning the paper around he restarted his endeavor to copy the small key once more. "Everything is in the angle.." Slowly he began to sketch out the shaft of the key once more. Slow and precise was better than quick and inaccurate with a weapon so perhaps the same could help him here. After completing the initial outlines of the shaft he attempted to add on the dimension she had mentioned was missing. This part ended up much rougher than he would have liked, depth wasn't exactly something he figured would be as easy to replicate. Finally after a few more marks on the parchment he was left with a fairly rough cylindrical shape.

Looking up from his small success he had almost forgotten that he was speaking to himself in Symenos again. "Apologies, i'm not quite used to speaking in common all the time yet.." Dex began to tap the key on the box slightly, obviously a little flustered at the situation. "Just this whole situation reminds me slightly of the past..minus the dark alley and the crossbow of course. I was just murmuring about previous lessons I had with a good friend of mine... Learning an art form never seems to come easy to me and my last teacher was perhaps even less forgiving than you. She was quite the person to behold..but that was then." Dex returned the key to its previous position in front of him so that he might continue the work in front of him. "Common then yes..any other questions you wish to ask?" What would he do if she asked about her? Hopefully she didn't care, she didn't seem to care about him personally so it wasn't likely she would take interest, hopefully.