Lost in the city (Coba)

[Jason Luntilla]

“I have no intention to make you an enemy, I’m just rather nervous about how I’m going to do in this particular environment, I have spent so little time outside of my mother’s library, the idea of making enemies this quickly seems quite absurd, but I suppose It can happen.” He didn’t figure scaring her would work, but he had always wanted to try, and this was the best excuse that he had ever had. cracking a meek but excited smile, he knows what he was trying had failed, but he had never expected it to succeed in the first place, He will walk towards her and say, “but that is a nice Ace to have up my sleeve and wouldn’t mind keeping it there, So I’m quite glad that you will keep that particular tidbit to yourself.”

He will look Coba up and down, thinking to himself I feel like I should give her a testament of my good faith possibly something from Res, seeing as that is almost all I am actually capable of doing, I may give her a book, but I don’t think she would find near as much enjoyment as I do. Looking around to see if anyone is nearby he will cup his hand’s face down and let Res flow out of them, shaping it into the shape of a stylized flame, he will look her straight in the eyes, and say “I am going to give you a token of my good faith, Though I have never been particularly good with fire I work well with stone, If you take this to some other wizard’s they will be able to tell it is magical, and to anyone else it will just look like worked stone. I don’t see you as the marble type, so It will be a simple black stone, smooth and unbroken though, so put your hand’s under mine.”

If she does he will form all of the Res into the shape of a stone, in a solid black stone, unbroken and smooth.

[Coba]

She let out a breath, directing the air upwards to blow the hair out of her eyes, it worked, kinda, before flopping back down over her face. "It's an art, making enemies. Gotta chose 'em carefully, 'cause in some ways they'll define you." She shifted back a bit as he walked forward, her turn to be ever so slightly leery. "Like I said, it's safe with me." It was the cardinal rule ingrained in her from her earlier years: Her guts will spill on the ground before the secrets she keeps will. This prime lesson carried over, ironically. She had no clue as to why he looked like he was evaluating her, again. Hadn't they sized each other up by now? And it caused her concern, especially when he turned his palms in such a way that she couldn't see what he was doing, magnified by the secretive way in which he glanced around before he proceeded. When he looked her in the eye, she saw quick intelligence, but not menace, which worried her even more. Threats she could grasp, deal with, counter. But this didn't seem to be any of the aforementioned. Token? Fire? Stone? Marble? She couldn't see why? Was it a bribe? But it didn't feel like a bribe. Bribery involved money. This was. . . something else. She backed up a bit, reluctant. What was it that went on? Brow furrowed with suspicion, for she did not understand his motives, she advanced again to place her hands as directed. When she felt the weight of stone, just as he said, she gasped and nearly jerked her hands away, but refrained. She looked at the creation he had made, seemingly out of thin air with wonder, then flicked back to his face, puzzled. "I have nothing really to give. Why?"

[Jason Luntilla]

She was nervous around magic, he couldn’t blame her. It was natural to jerk when a rock appears out of thin air. Jason will sigh lightly from relief, knowing that no one actually saw him , other than this fiery young woman. He was glad that he didn’t have to worry about her spilling his secrets to more unsavory people, and also glad for her advice.

Looking back up at her face after she asked “Why”, It was plain to see that she was very confused.Has she never been given a gift before, If so then this may be difficult to explain. he will down almost sheepishly, and say “I suppose you could call it a token of my appreciation, or of my friendship. You could even call it a gift. You are a person that I feel will be good to have as a friend” Looking back up, he will say “Well call it what you may. I need to get into the Bazaar and find the gear to travel, I will politely ask you to come with me, you will probably know far better than I will what I am looking for, you seem to have far more experience in this field than I do.”

Walking towards the din of the Great Bazaar, he had started out quite some time ago to try and find this, and now that he could finally buy what he needed he would be glad to get the job done. He recalled to himself just how much money he actually had. Five hundred and ninety eight gold mizas, quite a sum for him, but this was essentially his life’s savings. And hopefully this adventuring plan will help him get more money than he had dreamed. Beside’s it will be good for him to get out of the city and see the world.

[Coba]

Coba floundered in a sea of I-have-no-freaking-clue-of-what's-going-on. It was all she could do to keep her mouth from hanging open. It was a gift? He looked at her like she was significantly lacking in some area. What she understood to be a gift was not what she was presented with. The 'gifts' she was familiar still left her with nightmares. She held the beautiful creation in her left fist, fingers of that hand ceaselessly exploring the surface. She offered him a appreciative smile, if a little tentative. He wished to be her what? Her friend? If he wished to utilize her talents, like most did, why not just say ally? He seemed too good, too familiar with words to use the wrong word to get across his meaning. She was paid, exploited for her ability to be a monster, but what did he want from her? Besides her help. "The Bazaar, yeah." She traded her stupid dumfounded face for a mask of efficiency, walking beside Jason as he walked to the Bazaar. They would probably have to start with the basic shelter, and work their way down from there. Once the size of the tent needed was established, one could just fill the rest to size. She wove through people, attempting to keep from touching as many of them as possible, though she twitched when her dodging failed, breathing a sigh of relief when they reached again the outer fringes, less populated for the one time nature of the wares the stalls sold. "Some lures or traps, bedroll, torch, lantern, rope, tarp, tent," she called back to him, hoping her words were not lost in the din. She had another thought, as she caught sight of him following her through the throngs of people. "A weapon." If he got something showy enough, he hardly need to use it, just wearing it with an attempt at bravado would make people give him some secondary consideration. But a knife he could holster in his sleeve seemed far more useful in actual confrontation, requiring less finesse to be effective then the training one had to go through in order not to murder oneself with the larger weapons. But he did have that magic 'ace in the hole.' But first. "A one man tent?"

[Jason Luntilla]

“I was thinking a larger tent, a 4 person one; I want to be able to stand comfortably in my tent, and in all honesty I may be having company in my tent occasionally, I plan to travel with my younger brother, and he seems to be the type to get himself hurt more often than not. Though from my experience in moving out side of my suite, I really have very little room to talk. Also lures, traps, bedrolls, tarps, all of this seems completely alien with me.” He will watch her expression change, from confused, to a tentative smile, to a serious determination that he had never seen before. She had decided to help him look for gear, and he was grateful for it, he really had no idea what he was doing.

He will look at her and think, to himself Weapon, I don’t need a weapon I already have a weapon, I have a dagger. He will turn his head towards her and say, “I don’t have a particular need for a weapon, My dagger serves me well enough and it can be hidden effectively enough. It is quite a simple process in truth you put the sharp end in the other person’s abdomen and watch them bleed.” He will smirk to himself and chuckle thinking I also have my wonderful ace in the hole, magic something fun and dangerous.

He was still wondering what happened with her face why she seemed so dumbfounded by the fact that he had given her a gift, It was something that felt so natural for him to do, I don’t have any idea how to explain a gift to someone who had never received one. “Why do you seem so confused, has no one ever given you a gift before.”

[Coba]

Travelling with a younger brother? An accident prone one no less. For the love of Kelwyn, they were going to die. Die, I tell you, die! She let out a low moan of exasperation. She didn't know what books had taught him, but adventure is for he that knows how to survive all the other crap. Running a hand through her perpetually dishevelled hair, she tried to occupy herself with the intense arguing of wares and what not with a stall owner, debating the real worth of the sturdy tent he carried in his catalogue. In the end she haggled it down to it's worth, approvingly examining the find, it's plain canvas sturdy and reliable under her tugging inspection, giving the satisfying taunt twang of good material when she pulled a section tight between her fists. Continuing in her crouched position, she moved about the displayed material, similarly bothering and stressing the poles, content with the play that the wood proved itself over, most conducive to not having your tent collapse over top of you in violent winds, beams snapping like not much more then fragile twigs. Yes, this will last him a long time. "Give him a quarter of the money now, and we'll be back with a horse to pack it up on later, with the rest of his money." She advised Jason. Otherwise the little man would just sell it, even if they did promise to return. She turned to the stall keep, giving him a menacing glower. "You make off with the money, remember this: I know your face, little man." If she didn't have such a badly broken nose, her tattooed and burnt arms exposed, not to mention the fact that her vibrant red scarf had slipped down to reveal the ugly scarring that encircled most of her neck, he probably wouldn't have noted or paid her much attention. But with these things in his mind, he gulped and nodded. Upon this, she flashed him a brilliant smile, a complete 180˚ on her previous countenance, and walked onto the next stall, this specializing in hunting and trapping equipment. She repeated the process, though these smaller items require no, or less bullying then the first stall, Coba similarly arguing, testing the integrity of goods with her practised fingers, shaking her head at some of the flashy, carved things, seeing in the slim lines a loss of strength, not gaining in beauty. These items were far smaller and could be carried with them as they went. She heard his words, 'watch them bleed', with a smirk. Watch them bleed was not the half of it. You made them bleed, you made sure that nothing trickled, but flowed. That they suffered for their insult of existing. The rudimentary infliction of injury was simple, but the act of torture and killing was something more then that. She laughed herself, coldly. She knew something about pain and killing. It was on that note that his other words reached her. He seemed confused that she was such by his gesture. It made her realize what different worlds they existed in. She swivelled from her work of examination, looking up at him to answer his question from her position on the ground as she studied a lantern. Gifts, huh? Her blood ran cold to think of the 'presents' she'd been victim to. She knew that it was not gift, but their strength over her weakness exploited, but the attachment of the experience to the word stuck with her. In some terms they'd given her the grit to survive, the ability to claw her way from death to lay gasping and vengeful on the shores of life once more. Torment flicked across her face remembering. But no one, save one, had ever expressed such. . . kindness? But that individual was it's own mess of half tied bonds, strings of attachments and ulterior motives. Leo was something, different. But Jason did not know her, had no reason. "No. Not in a sense you'd understand."

[Jason Luntilla]

Jason will take Coba’s advice on all of the supply purchases tents and poles and traps mean very little to him and have quite consistently confused him. Even giving the man money without getting any immediate return, this made very little sense to him, but he did it anyway. Sometimes wondering if he was getting exactly what he needed, but he trusted this young girl’s judgment, It seems odd that someone so young would know so much about traveling, It struck him as even stranger that she was so reserved about something’s and then immediately afterwards seems cheery almost. It’s as if she has two separate personalities, either that or I keep saying the wrong things.

Jason notes how often Coba is switching her mindset, and how often she become’s uncomfortable, wishing he could put her mind at ease, he will look at her, this girl, no this women is a mystery to him, and there is nothing that he seems to be able to do the change that. Though this makes him want to know what she was thinking, she is extremely interesting, such a woman could make an amazing friend and ally for that matter, and she would be interesting to study.

“What does that mean, not in a way that I would understand?” This dodging around the point was just making him more interested, and he felt bad for being so, but there was nothing he could do, his innate curiosity was getting the better of him. If it was something, wait, under her scarf that’s a scar, a painful looking one at that, and not nearly as intentional looking as some of those other ones. At this he will drop the subject and say, “let’s just forget I asked about it ok?”

[Coba]

Glad to see that he took her advice, even though he clearly was lost in such matters, she felt it odd for him to trust her so. Even if people didn't think her excessively dangerous, few, if any, confined or depended on her without knowing that they had bought her service and best interests, which suited her just fine. But Jason had made no such arrangements. She glanced down at the black rock still held in her left fist, occasionally transferred to a pocket when she required both hands, though always returned to the safe grip of her fingers, unwilling to chance losing the token. She wasn't sure how to outwardly act in face of such things, but she knew what her intentions were. She would steer him right, about this anyway. She felt like she was being dissected under his gaze, and tried her best to ignore it. She didn't know what he thought of her, which was concerning. Normally she could read all the normal reactions to her own actions, but she had no clue what his opinions were manifesting. So she busied herself in the familiarity of bartering, more in her element in that then being subject to intelligent conversation. He was smart, capable of learning, so she occasionally pointed out what things made certain objects desirable, and others not so, to him, if just to get him to look at the objects he was buying instead of having it prickle on the back of her neck. She wondered if he would pick any of what she shared in snippits at all. When he asked for her meaning upon her answer referencing gifts she observed an almost apologetic, but still viciously curious expression. She supposed it was fair; she'd doggedly pestered him to know something that seemed intensely private to him as well. When he told her to forget he asked, she shook her head. She owed him something of an explanation. "When I say you wouldn't understand, I don't question your intelligence." She didn't know quite how to put this. "There are things out there that will be stronger then you are. They will make you pay for your weakness a thousand fold." She pulled down the scarf totally to expose her point. "They'll break you, body and soul. But if they can't kill you," she replaced the material, concealing it completely, "They make you that much stronger. And that is it's own gift, as I understand it." She hoped for his sake he'd never have to know what she meant. She returned to her work, shaking her head at the lantern, getting up to move to the next stall, grabbing another lantern to hold it to her face. This one had a tag attached to it, a line or two of writing on it. She turned the paper this way and that between her fingers, not able to make sense of what looked to her like a bird had walked through ink and and then onto the page. She held the tag and contraption out to Jason. "Read this."

[Jason Luntilla]

Coba had probably just showed him one of her deepest secrets to him and he had no idea how to respond to it, She was quite possibly doing what was one of the most trusting things she had ever done, and Jason had only known her for at most 30 minutes, Why would a woman who he hardly know shown her that scar. What was he supposed to do. His mind started to race at an uncomfortable paceWhat am I supposed to do, am I supposed to comfort her, Should I just go ohh I’m sorry, this is such an odd situation, what all happened I wonder, who could have done this to what seems to be a nice girl. That was actually rather accurate, she was nice, no matter how gruff she seemed she was quite nice underneath it all. Otherwise why would she have been helping him. This made no sense, but then again most things didn’t.

Hoping that he say’s the right thing he pipes up “I don’t see that as a gift so much as a lesson, a gift is something given in kindness and good faith from another, a lesson is something you take from another. That day you learned a lesson, unpleasant though it may have been, this day I have given you a gift. And this day you have taught me several lessons. Including the stereotypical don’t judge a book by its’ cover.”

Having said his peace Jason will go back to quietly listening to what she said about shopping and when she holds up the lantern with a tag on it. He will lean in close to the lantern, pull the tag up slightly and say. “Hand forged durable steel, Glass bulb from Wind Reach.” Looking up he says, “from what I hear the Inarta are quite impressive glassblowers.”

[Coba]

She disliked the way he looked at her. She hated pity. It was not as if she had been mere victim. No, those who'd ever crossed her paid dearly, suffered whatever pain they'd caused her a thousand times over and would eventually die for it. She supposed that made her a bit of a monster. The fact did not worry her much. Monsters had a tendency to survive. By nature she wanted to contest his definitions of gift and lesson, but perhaps he had a point, thinking of the stone. So she gave a small, unconvinced smile, her thoughts still far from agreement. "Life is called a gift, is it not? But life is rarely kind." She actually laughed at his statement involving today's lessons, surprised and sardonic. For his sake, she hoped that he would relearn that. For survival one must assume the cover to be the beginning, middle, and end of that being's life story and intentions. One does not get such an exterior without having the bile to survive and do the same or worse to others. Whether they were as dishonourable in heart as they were in skin made little difference. She said nothing to counter the implied suggestion that she was not as she seemed, unwilling to spoil his views. Perhaps her reasons just a bit vain, tasting the feeling of being, if not liked, appreciated by another as a human. "If a man doesn't look like a con-man, he's most likely as not to be one." Was the only suggestion of a proverb she'd give him on the subject. She made a face at the fancy words that the lantern justified it's extra five GM tacked onto the price. "Inarta or not, if it works, it works." She pointed out a far simpler and reasonably priced item. "Unless you want bragging rights . . ." She left the option open to him. "What kind of horseflesh are you interested in?"