Completely and utterly... lost

Karl Armodsson · July 7, 2008, 08:18 PM

Timestamp: 2nd Brightening of the 1st Cycle of Kalendryas, in the season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV PF. - Mid Afternoon.

It had been a particularly busy brightening. In fact, the past few brightenings had been busy and stressful at the same time. Crashing a boat tended to do that to a person, though at least Karl could honestly say that it wasn't his fault. Poor weather and bad timing in trying to correct what was happening with the ship had caused it. Still, it had put him off wanting to return to the sea and ships for a while. On the bad side, he was now in a city that he'd never visited, had very little idea where he was going... and that simple fact had now caught up with him. he had to face it, the Vagaran man was completely and utterly lost, and he'd only been trying to find the docks in order to get some work. So, now he was wandering around the city, trying his best to look like he knew were he was going.

There was a good side to this getting lost. It had taken the Vagaran man through area's of the city that he otherwise wouldn't have seen, which helped to broaden his horizons a little. Due to the fact that everyone seemed to speak a different language here, though the common tounge was also present, it made Karl very hesitant to actually ask someone for directions. Knowing his luck, he'd end up asking someone who wouldn't be able to tell him where he needed to go. It was also bloody cold, though thankfully that didn't bother him too much. Somehow, he couldn't help but feel that turning up soaked through to the skin helped to alleviate that particular feeling. Nothing could compare to that in terms of coldness. But, he had finally stopped moving, otherwise he'd just get even more lost.

Deep brown eyes scanned the people nearby, and a deep sigh left the Vagaran man's body. His warm breath appeared in the cold air as he wondered just what on Telath he was going to do.

Iseult Fluersdotter · July 10, 2008, 03:51 PM

Iseult was seated at the edge of a nearby fountain, clutching a nub of charcoal that blackened the tips of her fingers and the curve of her hand between thumb and pointer. A sheet of parchment was laid out in her lap against a thick, rigid square of leather and she doodled on it an almost idle fashion, but the slight sweep of her hand was fashioning distinct lines of the paper that merged together to create a series of small images that jammed the page. She looked up on occasion, dark eyes squinting past people to catch the angles she'd been admiring on a building or to remember the curve of a teacup that had caught her eye with its designs.

The glassblower often took a couple of candlemarks from her cycles to pick a place in the city and simply sit and sketch. She scoped out places of interest, whether that interest be architecture or perhaps a statue or even a stall of flowers (there was, however, a distinct lack of flowers every save the ice garden at this time of the era). She did not mind the flow of people that came around her as she worked, although she did find some frustration in the cold of the city. The hand holding the charcoal was cold, even a trace numb, and she paused now and again to clench and unclench her fist as if this might relive some of the cold's pain on her joints. The rest of her was wrapped warmly enough, a cloak draped around her figure and clasped shut at her chest, the brown pants worn but serviceable. She had loosely braided her hair so that much of it still curved over her slightly pointed ears, warming them, the rest of it hanging down the length of her back, strands poking loose here and there.

A shadow fell across the page she had been working on and she frowned slightly, looking up from the page she'd been diligently scribbling on. The individual who now blocked her view was not looking at her. He was, instead, staring around him as if he were absolutely and incredibly lost. Not that she could blame him; she'd lived in the city more than half an era and still found herself heading down the wrong avenues now and again. It was still rather aggravating to have her view blocked by someone who looked like a rabbit with a disappeared burrow.

"Do you plan to stand there the rest of the brightening?" Her voice was cold, pitched low in an almost threatening manner. The face turned up at him was a pale blue and the thin lips tight at the corners. The eyes were green surrounded by black, with none of the white your average human boasted. None of her expression was warm and welcoming.

Karl Armodsson · July 10, 2008, 11:48 PM

In retrospect, standing there like an idiot was probably not the best idea. Apparently the large Vagaran man had now managed to get in someone's way without even realising it. It was only the voice that made Karl turn around and blink in mild confusion. It was at this point he realised that he'd been blocking the slightly odd lady's view of... something. He took several steps to one side and offered her a very slightly bow. "Apologies there, lass. I dinnae realise I was in ye way." He hoped that the apology would be enough, and then glanced from her, to the direction he had been facing when right in-front of her. The paper and charcoal had not gone amiss, so he was trying to work out exactly what she was sketching.

Sadly, it seemed his powers of observation were lacking, but that was evident or he wouldn't have gotten lost. So, he decided to try and push his luck a little, hoping that she'd be willing to help him out. "Uh... I know I managed ta annoy ye an' all with gettin' in th' way... but ye think ye could point me in th' right direction fer th' East dock? I'ma wee bit lost." Karl's eyes moved to the paper that was sitting in her lap, trying to see if he could get a good glimpse of the actual drawing and thus work out what she was drawing. Judging by the look on her face, he figured asking might not go down well as he'd already disrupted her concentration enough.

A part of him couldn't help but wonder about the odd colouration of her skin and eyes too. He'd heard of Theylri elves, but had never met any, and it certainly appeared she was only part elf rather than full. Maybe if her mood improved and she felt receptive to a little chat, he might take the risk and ask. Afterall, the reason Karl had decided not to immediately go back to his home city was to try and learn a little more about the world. Best way to learn anything was to ask questions, at least in his opinion anyways.

Iseult Fluersdotter · July 12, 2008, 06:15 PM

Iseult seemed content enough to brush him off. She bent her head back over the paper, blonde hair curtaining her face, and began to bring the charcoal back across it with some brief hesitation; her concentration had been breached in that moment and now she found it hard to retrieve the rhythm she had once had.

Not that it seemed to matter. A voice broke through her concentration again and she jerked her head up with a steady frown at the man in front of her, shoulders sagging a little as she gusted an aggravated sigh in response. She stared at him a moment, then reached out beside her, plucking up a plain wooden box with old hinges. The lid was snapped open, the charcoals placed inside, the paper in her hand folded and likewise tucked away before the box was clicked shut.

"Might as well, since it seems I can't get back to what I was doing." Some chill reprimand lingered in her voice as she stood up, absently rubbing black lines into her pants as she straightened; she was never one to consider that she might dirty her clothing somewhat. Hers were already marked with the occasional burn mark as it was.

She could not, unfortunately, tell him off the top of her mind where the place was. She was bad enough with directions, but physical landmarks were far better than any verbal remarks she could offer. "I can show you." It was a curt remark, almost dismissive and the glance she slid him suggested she was wary enough of him. This was not offer of trust or interest, but polite nonetheless. "Unless you prefer to take bad directions?"

Who knew if she could actually get him there by walking any how. "It's this way." She slipped her hands back into her gloves, the box tucked under her arm. She jerked her head slightly and pivoted, starting off towards a road that led eastward.

Karl Armodsson · July 12, 2008, 11:23 PM

Managing to annoy someone twice in as many minutes was never a good thing, and yet Karl had managed just that particular feat. He wasn't overly proud of it either. In complete honesty, he expected the woman to basically tell him to sod off. Instead, she looked rather annoyed and seemed to be inclined to show him where the docks was. There was a visible wince as her voice still carried a chill, the man obviously not happy about it but knowing there was very little he could do to rectify the situation. He did notice that she wiped off her hands on her pants, though it didn't seem to bother him. After working at the docks and on ships, he did pretty much the same thing.

"I really am sorry fer bein' a complete pain in th' arse...". The tall Vagaran man made sure he was walking in-line with Iseult, but while also trying to keep a respectful distance from her. For a moment, he did consider folowing behind, but didn't want that taken the wrong way. "Well... iffen ye are really sure ye dun mind showin' me, it'd be very much appreciated." Karl let out a soft sigh, wondering how best to deal with the situation. Walking in silence might be prefferable for the woman, but he never really liked uncomfortable silences. Actually, he completely and utterly hated them, so the prospected of walking god-knows how far in silence really wasn't appealing.

"So, before I was a complete an' utter ignorant arse... mind iffen I ask wha' ye were drawin' there?"

Iseult Fluersdotter · July 15, 2008, 11:01 AM

Iseult had never been known for her sweetness or her ability to charm others with a smile. There were those who lamented her ever being civil. She didn't particularly care, being far too impressed with her own independence and her desire to do as she pleased as opposed to what others expected of her--it was a habit that she had carried with her from Trysvale, where she'd grown the daughter of a whore. Old habits were entirely far too difficult to break.

She would have been content with the silence. In some situations, those prone to rambling found a decent stage with Iseult, if not because she listened--she didn't, not really--but rather because she kept her mouth firmly shut and answered with the occasion nod, if she felt the comment merited such. Unfortunately, those prone to asking questions and giving her the stage were usually met with an intense reluctance to reveal anything...even if the answer wasn't particularly interesting to begin with.

She looked over at him, stare bland. "Angles. Objects." A curt, dismissive answer. She gestured slightly, the movement just as dismissive as her tone. "Practice."

She looked straightforward, turned a corner. "I would ask what you were doing before you became the 'complete and utter ignorant ass', but I think I already got that answer." Her brows arched slightly, mouth tightening at the corners but she did not look at him. She kept her stare resolutely ahead.

"A good name for a man, I think. Ass. I'm starting to think you go by it often." Not everyone knew when to curb their tongue. Or perhaps she knew and simply preferred not to.

Karl Armodsson · July 16, 2008, 10:11 PM

Same dismissive answers. The whole conversation thing wasn't going very well. In fact, it wasn't really going at all. Karl did admit to himself that he was surprised she bothered to look in his direction though. Afterall, she seemed to make it quite clear that the only interest shown was equal to that of something unmentionable on the bottom of her boot. Short, curt and dismissive answers he could mostly overlook, as that was more often a sign that someone was uncomfortable with actually talking, same with the dismissive movement that he noticed from the corner of his eyes. He probably would've complimented her on the drawing if he'd seen it, or if it wasn't for the fact he needed to watch where they were going.

Turning shortly after she did, the tall Vagaran man sped up slightly in order to draw level again, but still keeping a respectful distance between the two. There was a little chuckle as she mentioned wanting to ask what he was doing previously, but already knew the answer to that. Afterall, Karl did say that he was trying to find the docks. It should be fairly obvious that, due to his lack of backpack, he was trying to find work of some description. He didn't even consider the possibility that some of the women of the night may choose to work there. Pretty foolish considering he was a sailor and all, and he knew some of his crewmates liked to explore that particular type of "entertainment", for lack of a better term.

But then came the words that made the Vagaran frown. Thankfully, Karl was someone who could reign in his temper and could be hard to offend. But that single sentence irritated him. Whoever this woman was, she apparently had a low opinion of anyone male, and that kind of ignorance was something he simply wouldn't tolerate. Didn't matter if it was about men, women or most races, he wouldn't put up with it. Of course, hating Vysstichi and Orc's was acceptable. They were usually evil to a fault. Dracons and Esh'lahier were very different. Considering she seemed happy to be abusive and impolite, this woman was about to get a rather large piece of his mind.

"Oh really? Then mebbe 'bitch' would be a good name fer yeself, hmmm?" Karl slid his hands under his belt as he walked, clearly not very impressed. "Or whore? Afterall, most women I meet be impolite cos they don't like men fer whatever jaded reason, or they're jes wantin' me ta pay ta take 'em ta bed." His gaze turned slightly towards Iseult, the frown still present and lips set in a thin line on his face. "I already bloody apologised fer gettin' in ye way, an' it was jes an accident in th' first place. So, drop th' damn attitude with me, an' mebbe ye should be rethinkin' tha' jaded perception o'men too while ye are at it... otherwise ye'll jes annoy a lot o'people, an' as most people be armed, tha's nay a wise thing ta be doin' ...ever."

Iseult Fluersdotter · July 21, 2008, 03:00 PM

Iseult's steps came to a halt. Bitch was one thing. Fine. She could handle that. It didn't bother her the way it might have bothered others. It was not the first time she'd heard it and it would probably not be the last. But whore made her pause, made her stop and regard him a look at that was replaced chilly agitation with flushed anger. Whore! It was word that rubbed raw her sore spots. Whore? Feth. She had left Trysvale to put that behind her. To get away from the people who saw the daughter of a whore and expected her to be not unlike the mother. And yet odd looks prevented too many problems. Still. They had expected.

A desire to gut him, to stick a dagger in his stomach, seized Iseult with an almost uncharacteristic anger. She was not a violent person, had never really been a violent person, but the desire to hurt, to shut him up, was something that rooted Iseult as much as his utterance of the word. Whore.

Her fingers curled hard into the rough skin of her palms. Her nails were blunt, but still capable of pressing painful crescents into the skin. She ignored it and focused on him instead. She tried to rein in the temper that was starting to flare, knowing she gained nothing from an indignant outburst. Tight-lipped, her eyes rolling for a minute as she fought back the black gauze of her anger, she shook her head slightly. "And what do you know about whores? I doubt you can sustain anything mentionable to know your way around whores." Her mouth curled into a sneer of disdain. "I'll rethink my 'jaded perception' when one of you proves yourself worth the trouble. So far all I've found are men who look at women and see whores."

She lifted her chin slightly and the sneer shifted into something akin to a smirk. "Did you want to find your way to the docks yourself? It might take a while, but I'm sure the whores'll be waiting." She resumed her walk, long strides brisk, still angry.

Karl Armodsson · July 23, 2008, 12:39 AM

Well, it wasn't the best reaction in the world, but at least it was more than the short and curt answers he had been getting. Karl stopped just a little ahead of Iseult, as he hadn't expected her to stop dead, turning to face the woman. He saw the anger in his face and winced slightly, apparently having struck a particularly bad nerve. But it was true in his mind. Every woman who spoke to him on or around the docks had been interested only in selling services, and any woman outside of that usually assumed he was just trying to pick them up. Probably too much hanging around with other dock workers and sailors, so that was his own fault.

"Wha' do I know about 'em? Bugger all... except I got sick o'bein' harassed by 'em back home. Ye work on a dock or on a fishin' boat an' they all assume ye wanna pay fer a quick roll in th' hay. It's bloody frustratin! After a long cycle o'work, all I wanna do is get drunk, act stupid with me mates an' then go back 'ome an' sleep."

There was a soft snort from the man, and he clearly didn't look happy about the memory either. Not that he thought Iseult would believe him even for a second, but right now he was very annoyed at being lumped with most other men. Karl even let the jab at his manhood slide... certainly wasn't the first time a woman tried to make him fight with a comment along those lines. The whores did it a lot when he spurned their advances. Another snort came when she mentioned re-thinking the jaded perception. That wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. The tall Vagaran had to stop himself from shuffling his feet. The cold was starting to get to him.

A relieved sigh came from him as she started to walk away, and he hurried to catch up. Moving was better than standing around. "You'll never get over tha' jaded perception unless ye let it drop first. Kinda hard for someone ta prove otherwise when ye judge before ye even know 'em." At least now he knew why she thought he was going to the docks. "I dun think ye're a whore either... iffen ye were, then ye likely would've been tryin' ta offer services instead o'showin' me where th' docks are." There was another soft sigh and the large man watches his breath appear in the cold air. She wasn't about to get an apology, but an explination... not that Karl thought she'd accept it, but it was worth a try.

"Yeah, most men prolly look at women an' see a whore. I don't. Only people I prejudge are Vysstichi an' Orcs. All evil scum tha' need ta be smited by Ioannes iffen ye ask me." He snorted again at that thought. "Women? They're people. Only ones I see as whores be th' ones who try an' charm ye or sit there goin' 'Lookin' fer a good time?' Anyone else be a person with stuff ta contribute ta society... jes like me." Karl glanced over at Iseult as they walked through the city, figuring this was probably doing no good at all, but he at least wanted to get the prejudgement of himself out of her mind.

"And i'm goin' to th' docks fer work. Person over at th' Jaedaxian Employment Office told me I could get work there. I need money... so i'm goin' I'm nay huntin' fer a shag."

Iseult Fluersdotter · July 25, 2008, 08:17 AM

She didn't feel bad for him, that he'd been harassed by whores back home just because he worked on the docks. She was far too busy remembering her mother and feeling agitated that she was having this conversation. She didn't want to think about her mother. She didn't want to think about whores. She was still boiling inside with him insinuating that she might be some sort of whore, given her attitude. All in all, the conversation wasn't doing wonders for Iseult's attitude issues.

She felt like she was being lectured. She probably was. She endured it stiffly, walking with long, determined strides, anxious now to get to where she needed to be. The docks. Then she could find her way home and relax for the rest of the brightening...preferably in seclusion away from men such as this one. She straightened her shoulders back when he amended that he did not think she was a whore. She didn't answer. Didn't murmur a thank you. She wasn't even sure he meant it or simply did not wish to deal with the prickly attitude she'd been exuding. Fat chance--reap what you sow. Or so she figured.

"Well aren't you a grand one," she drawled blandly as he went on his 'philosophy' of women About how they were just as good as others since they contributed to society. The wording made her feel a little sour, as if they were a trace insulting more than they were reassuring. But then Iseult was picking at everything in her mind. It really wouldn't have mattered much what he said--she was already interpreting it one way.

She turned a corner. She said nothing in response, nothing more than the one string of words that was somewhat dismissive of his stance on women. She clearly didn't believe him or was reluctant to abandon the image she'd already shaped of him. It was going to be a long walk, she figured. They'd been on the western side of the city and here they were needing to get to the Eastern docks. Just her luck.

At length, she offered up a new topic. Better than talking about whores and women. It wasn't improving her temper. "How'd you end up in the Western quarters looking for the Eastern docks?" It came out almost as if she were accusing him of something, the harsh clip around the edges of her voice still present.

Karl Armodsson · August 14, 2008, 11:07 PM

There was a roll of the eyes at her comment of him being a grand one. Somehow, Karl was really starting to loose his temper with this woman. If it wasn't for the fact that he was honorable and tried to avoid violence, he'd give her a slap for the shock value and maybe to get her to bloody well listen rather than letting stuff go in one ear and straight out of the other. "Nah, i'm not. I'm jes a normal bloke wantin' a normal life while tryin' ta treat others with th' respect they deserve." He cast a glance towards Iseult and gave a very soft snort. "Not tha' ye deserve any with th' attitude jes fer gettin' in ye way..." was muttered under his breath.

Somehow he was really beginning to wish that he'd not run into this person. Yes, how it happened was a mistake on his part, which was apologised for. But that didn't make her drop the prickly attitude, which was annoying. Now it felt like nothing he could say would change her attitude or her apparent dislike of him. That frustrated Karl even more, as one mistake ended up giving him this crazy bitch who gave the distinct impression that she disliked everyone and everything, especially if they happened to be male. He just hoped the walk to the docks would not last much longer... and that hope was soon dashed by the question she threw at him.

"...feck."

That single word was the only answer Iseult got to her question, for the moment anyways. Karl stopped dead for just a second or two, then hurried to catch up with her. He did consider trying to offer an explination, but he didn't have one and figured she wouldn't believe him anyways. "Let's see... well, I could say somethin' flowery like I was drawn ta ye... but i'd get slapped. I could be honest an' say i've no damn idea, but ye likely wouldn't believe me. Or, I could jes say 'cos i'm stupid' an' leave it at tha'... which is nay true, but th' only bloody explination ye are likely to actually believe. So, take ye pick."

Iseult Fluersdotter · August 15, 2008, 12:26 PM

If Iseult suspected or became aware of any reprimand to her failure to show proper respect, she did not acknowledge it, but rather seemed content to walk onward, back straight and chin lifted slightly. She had a certain measure of pride in her, a pride that had been scoured into awareness since leaving Trysvale. She might not have been a beautiful woman, maybe not even a pretty woman, but she had a trade she worked well and that in itself was enough to give the woman more of a backbone since coming to terms with her odd features.

They turned a corner and the man went on to answer her snarky question. Perhaps surprisingly, her mouth curved into a smile both amused and something of a smirk, and she...laughed...as he told her to take her pick after pointedly telling her exactly which one she thought he would pick. He was in some ways correct on each point. Only Iseult was not the sort that slapped and she certainly was more than happy to believe the suggestion that he was stupid. He was, after all, a man.

But she could also believe that he had no idea. Because, well...he was a man. Who expected them to really examine the facts in their head and come up with a decent reason for anything?

"At least you're honest," she responded with that linger of a smirking smile and shifted a glance around her. She didn't care to admit that she did not know much about the city either, despite how many times she'd traveled it. She could get to certain points--walk this street to here and you got to the Chambre de Verre. Walk that street there and you came back to Iseult's house. She had considered trying to figure things out based on walking in a direction, but decided that streets did not always continue in a fashion that made sense. And so she struck out south-east towards the Chambre de Verre and hoped she could find a road that might take them to the harbor. Why she had agreed to this, she could no longer remember.

"Most men might say they had found the west side of the city on purpose." Rather than 'fessing up to some sort of fault. Typical.

Trouble · August 18, 2008, 05:50 PM

The suns were out and the snow crunched beneath their shoes as Iseult and Karl walked along the streets of the city snapping at one another, each street started to resemble the other in the way that city streets sometimes do to those who aren't paying attention. Was that the same store they passed a few blocks ago? Didn't that man look familiar? It was hard to say. Still Iseult was feeling fairly confident as to where she was. Karl recognized nothing.

The cold Jaedaxian wind blew in from the Northwest and bit both of them to the bone. Just as they were coming to an intersection they came upon a man in a heavy brown coat. He had a rough beard and watery blue eyes. Bumping into Karl he mumbled something that might have been "scuse, moi" or something less friendly. The man smelled like a distillery.

Across the street a woman was yelling at a teenaged boy and clouting him on the head with a rolling pin. "Imbecile! I tell you to keep an eye on your papa and bring him straight home, and you go and bring him home like this! Imbecile" SMACK! She hit him again on the back with the rolling pin.

Karl Armodsson · August 23, 2008, 05:04 AM

The smile and laugh was very unexpected. Karl raised a single brow in complete and utter confusion, not sure if he should be pleased that her poor mood was lifting, or if he should expect some form of venom-filled comment. He felt the cold wind and shivered a little, really wishing he had spare money to get some thicker clothes. Then again, he also hoped that he'd be able to get used to the weather a little. He really had no idea where in the name of Ioannes they were, but had no choice than to trust Iseult's sense of direction. Given how the conversation was currently going, it wasn't a situation that he was very happy with. Then again, she didn't seem happy with it either.

"Yeah... I am." He was obviously comment on the honesty thing, still a little confused at what the hell was going on. "Lyin' gets ye nowhere... so I dun see th' point... an' i'm nay most men." Karl gave a soft shrug, which was shortly followed by an 'oof!' noise as the man ran into him. If he was carrying his money on him, the Vagaran wouldn't been rather concerned at someone running into him, especially someone who smelled rather drunk. Never know what they might try. A hand closed protectivley around the hilt of his Spatha, passed down from generation to generation within his family. Hell, that thing was worth more to him than all the crowns in the land.

Soon enough, the shouting came to his ears and his gaze turned to the woman and her son. He could only assume the drunken man that had walked into him was likely the boy's father and the woman beating him about the head with some form of cooking implement was his mother. Karl's gaze turned back to the man wandering off to make sure he wasn't going too far before turning back to the two people arguing. "OI