Illnesses

[pilgrimofmanynames]

Celobra opened her eyes, watching the darkness of the old sewer, and sat up. She would have waited for her eyes to adjust properly, but Her Friends made her eyesight sharper for her. There's times, she told Them, when it's better to leave well enough alone. Seventy-some years, and They never stopped fiddling. She supposed it was their body too, now, but it had been hers to begin with, and she never felt comfortable with a mind not her own moving her limbs. She thought hard about the darkness for a minute, and her eyesight slowly returned to normal. She rubbed the gritty sleep from her eyes and tugged her clothes into order as her vision adjusted manually. Once she could see, she swung her feet over the edge of the cot. Her feet hit the floor with a jolt - she would have to get used to the lower height. She went over to the far side of the room and peered up through the grating. Stars winked back at her. She sometimes wished she could go out in the day more often, but Her Friends preferred to be awake, so it was best to hide. She had long since gotten used to sleeping in the day. It is necessary, honor-child. The night is the best cloak for Shades, her friends told her. As if she didn't know that. She did feel comforted, though, that They always knew what she was thinking, and it always amused her when They called her "honor-child". She had never wondered what her name meant before Her Friends told her. This was before they were One; when she had asked her father, he had said that honor was a good thing to have, and "celobra" was a beautiful word. He had been right, and she had always felt special that she was named in the language of elves and magic. She knew most feared magic, but she loved it, as she loved everything about her father. And of course, she could never be parted with it now.

She lifted the grate and shifted it. Hauling herself out of the hole in the small street, she said her name aloud: "Celobra..." yes, her father chose well, all those years ago. She replaced the grate and put up her hood. To the tavern, then, or d'you have any more objections? It is open late, you know. They were silent. She put back her hood and pulled a lock of her hair before her eyes. It was browner than it had been that day. Thank you, she told Them, and slipped up the street like a shadow.

[Lisenet]

Tellenani Valaician
One day prior to Strange Beasts

Tellen had spent most of her afternoon tracking down rumors. They were slick, many-footed creatures, rumors, leaving footprints where they ought not be and nearly impossible to fully trace, their paths were so convoluted and varied. It didn’t help that the story was apt to change along the way with every telling. Precious few people related information just as they’d heard it; they related their interpretation of it. The head and tail of a single rumor could be two entirely different creatures bound in the middle by nothing more than ruffled scales and bits of shaggy skin.

Nevertheless, Tellen was very interested to hear about where the wife of one of the visiting nobles seemed to have vanished to. Off on an affair, kidnapped by lurking elves, ambushed by urgals while taking a stroll, and cursed into the form of a sea creature were only a few of the many assumptions that people were making. Members of the gentry rarely vanished with so little evidence or seeming cause as this woman had. If she had arranged it on her own, Tellen knew she would like to meet the woman someday. She had accomplished quite a feat.

She was rounding a corner that evening, on her way to find something she hadn’t yet tried for supper, when she paused and stood in a gauzy, fog-wrapped shadow between two buildings, carefully shading her eyes with her hand so the lamp across the street wouldn’t reflect off of them. Was that a young woman crawling so nimbly out of the sewer centered in the cobbled street? The figure stood, and by the way its cloak fell around it Tellen could indeed identify her as female, though age could have been anywhere from twelve to fifty, without being able to see her face. She was rather agile for fifty, however.

The woman was just stepping—far more gracefully than Tellen had ever observed—up the street like ink through water when Tellen hopped out of her own shadow and followed her. She made no effort to quiet the heels of her boots on the cobbles, it wasn’t as if she was following her, and called out curiously through the mist, ”I don’t suppose you’re the missing woman I’ve been looking for?” For all that Tellen chased secrets on the daily, subtlety had never been one of her virtues. Rarely did she see a use for it. People were much more off-centered by bluntness, and that could be useful.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

Another person had been at the other end of the alley. Still was, in fact. Their breathing was sharp in the evening air. "I don't suppose you're the missing woman I've been looking for?" the person, or rather, lady, it seemed, asked. Celobra rolled her eyes. She was going somewhere, for goodness's sake! Who the hell was this woman at these hours of the night? But then again, she was bored. Her little sewer cell was comfortable and liveable, but people were quite enjoyable to toy with and they were few and far between in the sewers. She turned sharply, her cloak swirling through whistling air. "That depends. If this woman is me, then doubtless I am. But that doesn't seem likely. Most people would refer to me as a girl, and if you were looking for me I don't doubt you would use that term." She drew herself up to slightly more than her full height and looked as much down her nose as she comfortably could. "Who are you, and what are you doing accosting me on a perfectly ordinary errand at a time when most are asleep? And if I may inquire, who is this mysterious woman you seem to have mistaken me for?" She intentionally put a cold bite into her voice. Why shouldn't she show her displeasure? That was communication, wasn't it? She eased into a more comfortable standing position with her hands on her hips and waited in the night mist.

[Lisenet]

The girl--as she clearly was--didn't seem particularly startled by Tellen's question. More irritated. Tellen raised a finger. "Accosting would imply an attack, so until I start mauling you like a bear that word really doesn't fit. And I'm a music teacher. I'm looking for some missing noblewoman and thought you might be her because anyone who has taken as many pains to disappear as she has isn't going to be spending her days in an inn, she'll be hiding like I presume you were." One side of Tellen's mouth quirked up in an amused smile, not at all offended by the girl's sharp barrage of questions. "If you need someplace to stay I can recommend a few inns that are cheap, but it depends on what sorts of guests--human and otherwise--that you want to put up with."

The girl's hair was an odd shade of red-brown, she realized. The red tints much brighter than those naturally found, and her skin preternaturally pale. Interesting. Something about the way she appeared and the way she moved struck Tellen as incredibly important, but for the moment she couldn't understand why. Until the girl pulled a knife she didn't feel terribly concerned. "I must say I admire your blatant independence, nonetheless," she added, entirely truthful. How many girls popped out of sewers and argued with strange women in the manner that this one did?

[pilgrimofmanynames]

"Accosting would apply an attack, so until I start mauling you like a bear that word really doesn't fit. And I'm a music teacher. I'm looking for some missing noblewoman and thought you might be her because anyone who has taken as many pains to disappear as she has isn't going to be spending her days in an inn, she'll be hiding like I presume you were." Celobra tilted her head to the side. "I wouldn't say "hiding". It almost makes it sound as if I'm up to something I shouldn't be. And seeing as how you're talking about a noblewoman, I wouldn't put an inn out of the question. Depending on the noblewoman, that is." She smiled a little. "If you need someplace to stay I can recommend a few inns that are cheap, but it depends on what sorts of guests--human and otherwise--that you want to put up with." That sobered her up almost instantly, and she scoffed. "I can live where I'm living, lady. Don't mind me. And if by 'or otherwise' you mean I might find elves, I think you should know that I don't really care." That last was more of a lie than not. Elves were dangerously perceptive, and if she encountered one, it was always possible that he or she might see what was in her when humans couldn't. Speaking of which, the stranger seemed to be eyeing her oddly - especially her hair. She pulled at it, only half paying attention to her own actions. She was studying the woman's body language; there, how she seemed to be searching her mind for something that was eluding her. And then she seemed to drop the matter for the moment. "I must say I admire your blatant independence, nonetheless," she said. Celobra chuckled a little. "Why, thank you, Your Ladyship," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm, as she executed a mock bow. Although her gratitude may have been exaggerated, it was there. Her independence was her survival, and despite her best precautions to remain unflattered, she did always seem to glow when it was complimented. She was still on her guard, though - the strange woman could pick any moment to resume searching her mind about whatever seemed to make her so curious about Celobra and her hair.

[Lisenet]

"It almost makes it sound as if I'm up to something I shouldn't be."

"Well lurking in the sewers isn't expressly forbidden but neither is it something most well-intentioned people do," Tellen pointed out. "Rather like shaving cats."

"And if by 'or otherwise' you mean I might find elves...."

Tellen laughed. "Not lady. Just miss. And I meant rats, mice and bugs of the sort you don't usually want to consort with. Tellen heaved a sigh, rather liking the taste of the saltwater from the ocean that permeated the gray mist, and started off toward the tavern again. "This was where you were going, wasn't it? I'm hungry. And don't call me lady, the nobles get all uptight about commoners taking titles they don't own.At least most of them did. Tellen had never particularly cared herself, but then she was only of the minor nobility--practically common herself, if it wasn't for the fact that her family had a habit of dedicating their lives that the general populace might enjoy their own just a bit longer. Her family may not have gold dust in their bloodstream, but they had powdered steel, and that in and of itself was worthy of respect with most families.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

"Well, lurking in the sewers isn't expressly forbidden but neither is it something most well-intentioned people do," the stranger noted. She had a point. "Rather like shaving cats." Celobra blinked. "Shaving cats? I wasn't aware anybody did that. It seems most unwise; cats tend to go their own way." Now to dissuade any suspicion of wrongdoing. That wouldn't do at all. "You seem to be forgetting that there are people who simply can't afford to live anywhere reputable. They get ignored too often. Besides, I prefer the sewers. Always unoccupied, by people at least, and unlike inns, they don't cost money." Celobra inhaled deeply, smelling the wind blowing in from the sea. It was stronger than she would have liked, and she wrinkled her nose. The sea was nice enough in moderation, but when you could smell every iota of fish excrement and seaweed from just the breeze coming off it, it was more of a problem. She cut off her enhanced senses in distaste. The stranger interrupted her thoughts by laughing. "Not lady. Just miss. And I meant rats, mice and bugs of the sort you don't usually want to consort with." "Ah. Yes, animals are easier to deal with. And I apologize for the mishap." She followed the woman with her eye as she began to head in the direction of the tavern. "This was where you were going, wasn't it? I'm hungry. And don't call me lady, the nobles get all uptight about commoners taking titles they don't own." Celobra raised her eyebrows. The woman had insisted upon not having a title twice now. That could mean she simply didn't want a title that wasn't hers, for whatever reason, but equally possible was that she didn't want a title that was hers. There was no way to know, and Celobra set the matter mostly to rest in her mind, but it was an interesting possibility. That took her to the problem of the tavern. She would rather not have a companion, but if the stranger hadn't guessed by now what she was, she likely wouldn't anytime soon, and people were less likely to bother a child with a woman than a girl on her own. And she was still hungry, although less bored. She grimaced a little internally. "I'm coming."

[Lisenet]

"Cats tend to go their own way."

"Yes," Tellen mused. "But then again we would be so bored if all of us in the world were intelligent, wouldn't we?"

"Besides, I prefer the sewers."

Tellen blinked curiously at the girl, her lips shoved off to one side as she thought. "Good for you then, because chances are you'll never be overcrowded down there. I don't like small spaces." She shuddered, her bones rattling at the very thought. She would feel like a spider trapped in sap to be in any space small enough that her hands could lay flat on either side of her, or any place where her voice echoed too quickly. Looking over her shoulder, she gestured for the girl to follow. It seemed wrong just to leave her alone in the dark, as independent as she may be. This one wasn't a child anymore, but Tellen had always loved children.

"I'm coming." She followed.

"Excellent. I've been wanting to try the beet stew here. Half the people I speak to love it and the other half compare it to boar spit." She held the door for the girl and entered after, glad that the hearth was rosy with warmth.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

"Yes, but then again we would be so bored if all of us in the world were intelligent, wouldn't we?" Celobra was beginning to like this woman. She had a twisty mind. "Good for you then, because chances are you'll never be overcrowded down there. I don't like small spaces." The truth in that was blindingly obvious. The woman's posture and shudder were plenty enough to see that. Well, Celobra supposed if the stranger didn't want to live in the sewers, there was no need to. She continued to follow the woman down the street, taking note of the "come-along" gesture. It would seem the stranger was worried about her. Reasonable, given what she knew. "Excellent. I've been wanting to try the beet stew here. Half the people I speak to love it and the other half compare it to boar spit." Celobra frowned. "Well, you go ahead with that, but I'm afraid I'm with the latter party on that one. Thank you," She added as the stranger held the door open for her. Lessons from her father, though long ago, were never forgotten; and "meet politeness with politeness" was sensible enough anyhow. She nudged Her Friends a little in her mind, not enough to wake them up but enough to sharpen her sight and hearing again. She studied her options - one of the things she liked about this tavern was that their (admittedly limited) menu was clearly painted on the left wall - and shrugged. She had come for plain food, after all, not variety. She selected an empty table - it was for three, not two, but who really cared - and sat. She had timed it perfectly - one of the barmaids passed almost immediately. "One of the venison. And...the beet stew for my friend. I did warn her." Celobra looked to the stranger for any drinks she might order. Certainly Celobra never ordered any. Well, not alcohol. Coffee could be nice, but she was awake already.

[Lisenet]

As soon as Tellen followed her into the eatery she paused to enjoy the warmth of the fire. Living in Teirm, one was never entirely warm, on account of the fog and rain and ocean breezes, but she enjoyed the place all the same. Even though she already knew what she wanted, she paused to look up at the menu anyway, since she hadn't been here before. Even if she didn't like the beet stew, she may well want to come back for something else. "So you admit you've tried it?" she asked absently. Most people hated beets, from her experience. Although Tellen had never cared for others speaking for her, she didn't mind that the girl did so, on account of the fact that Tellen clearly looked as though her mind were elsewhere. She finished her thought--on how large a lake would have to be to affect the local weather as much as an ocean shoreline did--and drew out a chair across from the girl. "Warnings are all well and good, but for the most part they're a matter of opinion, don't you think? My mother told me a girl who ate more than two flapjacks at breakfast would get fat. I ate a third whenever she wasn't looking and I turned out fine." Granted, had the girl warned her that beets when improperly cooked were lethally poisonous, she may have heeded it more. Tellen could better deal with a broken arm than with anything resembling poisoning. Bones wanted to heal. Once the force that had damaged them was removed, they could do it on their own with the proper guidance. Poison was not so difficult to remove. To Tellen, poison had always been one of the more nefarious forms of injury one could do to one's person. "A glass of whatever wine you have," she said to the barmaid, before the girl hurried off. Wine was more of the nobility's drink than a common woman's, but a few who could afford it did develop a liking for it. "So what are you in town for?" she asked curiously, digging in her satchel for her block of wood to carve.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

"So you admit you've tried it?" the woman answered distantly. Celobra was keenly aware that her new companion's mind was elsewhere. Nevertheless, she suspected some part of the stranger was listening. "Yes. It wasn't actually bad, just mediocre, but I was sick for a week." Ordinary sickness, Her Friends could deter, but when her body tried to expel something potentially dangerous, They never bothered. It was their job to keep anything dangerous away from her, after all. She had often wondered why her body still did such ordinary functions, since all she had read about Shades said they never needed to eat, or drink, or really anything else a person would take for granted. She supposed that it was because she was still in her body, so Her Friends couldn't alter it. She was rather grateful of that on the days it was relevant to her. When the stranger spoke again, Celobra snapped back to attention. "Warnings are all well and good, but for the most part they're a matter of opinion, don't you think? My mother told me a girl who ate more than two flapjacks at breakfast would get fat. I ate a third whenever she wasn't looking and I turned out fine." Celobra snorted. As decades passed, she had pondered on just how much parental advice was lies and fairy tales wrapped up in warnings. But she did still believe that her father had always loved her. It was abundantly clear how all of those lies had been to protect her. This, however, was utter foolishness. Why on earth shouldn't a child eat more than two flapjacks? She had spent long enough in this body that still thought it was growing that children certainly needed plenty of food. "Parents lie. Now, however hard I try, I can't think of a reason to keep somebody from eating more than two flapjacks, but apparently your mother did. I, however, speak from personal experience, with no hint of a lie anywhere." Celobra drew her head up in mock dignity saying that last and assumed a tone of almost-false sweetness. "A glass of whatever wine you have," the woman added aside to the barmaid. Celobra raised her eyebrows a hair. Another unhelpful clue as to the class of her mysterious stranger. Well, the woman hadn't identified herself yet, so Celobra assumed she didn't intend to. She lowered her eyebrows and relaxed her face from the shadow of a frown that had begin to form when the stranger looked back at her. "So what are you in town for?" the woman asked. "I live here." Simple answers, with mysteries all around. What fun!

[Lisenet]

Sick for a week? Damn. "Sounds exciting," Tellen replied, as genuinely as possible, just for the amusement of it. She was having a most delightful evening, and was not at her most mentally sound, based on others' experiences of her. "Now see my mother, bless her heart, just knew that I was going to be a problem child and therefore did absolutely everything in her power to prepare me and the world for each other before she no longer had the influence to do so." Tellen took a sip of her dusty, dusky wine and chuckled to herself. "I never give her enough credit. And she was so very creative, too...." she mused, thinking as she waited for their food to arrive. "When she was teaching me how to write, every time I shifted my hand to hold the pencil wrong she would drop cockle burs on the back of my hand because she knew how much I hated it. They don't hurt, but the texture of them is just awful." Tellen rotated her shoulders and shook out her hands just from the memory of the scratching, clinging little heathens. Judging by her mother's ability to narrow in on dislikes and weaknesses, Tellen would forever be grateful that her mother had chosen the path of motherhood and not the path of tyranny--there was no doubt in Tellenani's mind that Lady Valacian could have ruled Broddring Kingdom simply through force of calm, unrelenting will and subtle manipulations if she'd ever put her sharp mind to it.

"Do you live here for work or family?" Tellen asked curiously. "I'm here to work, as always. I'm not sure for how long though." Since she'd left her family estate in Carvala, she hadn't stayed in one town or city for more than eight months. Her time in Teirm was narrowing in on seven. Already her bones were starting to itch.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

"Sounds exciting," the stranger said, with a sincerity that might well be contrived. "Not really," Celobra replied with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Now see my mother, bless her heart, just knew that I was going to be a problem child and therefore did absolutely everything in her power to prepare me and the world for each other before she no longer had the influence to do so." This woman was starting to irritate her again, especially with her little laugh, but as Celobra's father had sometimes said, 'tis the grit that makes the pearl. "I never give her enough credit. And she was so very creative, too...." Celobra could practically hear the stranger's mind roaming over memories. She wouldn't dare actually listen in on somebody's mind - there was always the possibility that they could tell, and her mind was definitely like no other. "When she was teaching me how to write, every time I shifted my hand to hold the pencil wrong she would drop cockle burs on the back of my hand because she knew how much I hated it. They don't hurt, but the texture of them is just awful." Ah, cockle burrs. Celobra had gotten her fair share of them, before Her Friends came. And sometimes after, but it helped significantly to be able to simply throw the blasted things away with a puff of air and magic. She smiled a paring of a grin. Furthermore, the influence of the invisible cockle burrs was evident from the shuddering way the stranger rolled her shoulders and slapped the memory of the prickly offender from her hands. When the woman was done remembering, she continued talking. "Do you live here for work or family?" Celobra pursed her lips a little with a small frown. It was an odd question, that one. What about those who simply lived there, purely to stay in one place and have a consistent way to eat? "I'm here to work, as always. I'm not sure for how long though." News, but not very interesting to Celobra, who stored this singularly dull nugget in the back of her mind in case it became important. "I just live here. For myself. Traveling is fine, for those who like that, but I prefer to have something over my head and an inn nearby, and people to study the lives of from the background. They all ignore me, you know, even if I didn't live in the sewers. Excellent for watching and listening." Knowledge was important, and useful, but most important to Celobra as far as information went was the fun of obtaining it, and occasionally using it to fiddle with the lives of people who amused her. Not as playthings, exactly, although that was one aspect of it, but primarily as people who could use a hand, be it a helping hand or a hindrance. She had quite enjoyed taking down that spectacularly corrupt businessman on the other side of the city, back when she had actually lived in a house. His fall from grace had been thoroughly pleasing to watch.

[Lisenet]

This girl was a person-watcher too? That alone would have interested Tellen, even if she hadn't seen her climbing up out of the sewer as though ascending a curling staircase. "Of course they ignore you," she answered with a faint smile. "People ignore those they consider inconsequential, adults in particular do it to the young and the elderly." She wondered where the girl attained the money to buy food if she didn't work, but perhaps she had funds she pulled from the bank when she was in need. For all that she lived in the sewers, her clothes and shoes were of decent make, without holes or dangling threads or significant wear. Either the girl was fastidious when caring for them or she could afford them on her own, and possibly both. She didn't seem the type to fuss overmuch with her clothes however. Tellen couldn't see any fancy embroidery or brooches or jewelry or talismans of any kind, though they could very well be hiding. Not a very materialistic person, which would help her survive. "Listening when people don't expect you to is the best kind of fun," Tellen agreed. "You learn all sorts of mischief and no one is even paying attention enough to notice. Women in particular always know more than you expect. Men seem to think the second we get a bit of sewing in our hands our ears and minds cease to work." She shook her head, derisive, but all the same appreciative--ignorance like that was what made her chase so much easier.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

Celobra noted the alert posture and focused eyes of the stranger. Evidently this was a topic she was interested and well-versed in. "Of course they ignore you," the woman informed Celobra with a smile. "People ignore those they consider inconsequential, adults in particular do it to the young and the elderly." This was basic information, but in Celobra's experience, too many people didn't know it anyhow. This stranger was turning out to be an excellent playmate. "I know. It's ever so fun to prove them wrong, and watch their jaw drop." The woman paused before continuing. "Listening when people don't expect you to is the best kind of fun," she said. "You learn all sorts of mischief and no one is even paying attention enough to notice. Women in particular always know more than you expect. Men seem to think the second we get a bit of sewing in our hands our ears and minds cease to work." Celobra nodded vigorously. She knew that last best and foremost. A female child in the corner mending her cloak was the only disguise one really needed in order to hide in plain sight, although when she actually needed to mend something, she tended to use magic. "Exactly. It's a double benefit, because you actually get something practical done as you eavesdrop." Well, if the eavesdropping itself didn't serve a practical purpose to begin with. Celobra occasionally did jobs involving the acquiring of information - if a thief was too well known, she would case the joint for him. She didn't do those as often as she had when she first came to Teirm, though - she had been able to sell some of the provisions she had acquired on the way there, and when she desperately needed coin she would use magic to sift some precious metal from the ground, or explore the sewers for some forgotten valuables. That was how she had found her current domicile. "Your venison and stew?" a barmaid interrupted. "Ah, yes." Celobra fumbled in her cloak for a moment before finding the hidden pocket where he kept most of her money. She dug out five of the largest coins (the main flaw about this place was that they were more than a tad overpriced) and presented them unceremoniously to the barmaid. She was gone with the gold in seconds. Celobra turned her attention to her venison, while she pushed the stew towards the stranger. Celobra's venison was a little heavy on the spices, but she quickly and steadily devoured a fair portion of it in silence before looking up to check on her new friend.

[Lisenet]

"And here I thought the eavesdropping was the practical part. I hate stitching." Oddly enough, plain sewing--mending tears and ragged hems--she didn't mind; it was easy to see her progress and difficult to do wrong. Embroidery, however, had never been one of her strong suits. The thread and needle seemed to come out of different holes and to even see what she was doing she had to make the stitches larger than her mother's standard. It was a pointless expenditure of time, to Tellen. She didn't need a pretty hem, she needed a functional one. When embroidery became more necessary to the way a cloak hem operated perhaps she would take it up again, but not before.

The barmaid hustled over, and at Celbora's gesture set the bowl and plate down. Tellen tugged the red-purple stew toward herself and dug a few coins out herself. She was surprised to see the girl pay with gold when copper and silver would do, but perhaps she didn't like carrying multiple coins. It certainly was a bother. Tellen took up the pewter spoon that had come with her bowl and blew on a spoonful of the fluid colored as though it had come from a fairy tale. It had the oddest, tangy scent to it, rather strong, but not altogether unpleasant. She found it had a thick, heady, almost sour taste to it, but the other vegetables and bits of unidentifiable meat stirred into it made it quite pleasant. "This isn't nearly so horrid as you'd led me to believe," she remarked. "Though it's rather an acquired taste, I do believe." She twirled the spoon once around her fingers. "So who do you spend most of your time eavesdropping on? I find the poorer folk seem to know the most. The gentry ignore everything that doesn't fit into their orderly worlds."

[pilgrimofmanynames]

"And here I thought the eavesdropping was the practical part. I hate stitching." Celobra inclined her head to the stranger. "Some days, it is," she replied amiably. She returned her attention to her venison for a bit until the woman finished sampling her stew. "This isn't nearly so horrid as you'd led me to believe," the stranger stated after a moment, adding, "Though it's rather an acquired taste, I do believe." Celobra shrugged. "I never said it tasted bad." The stranger briefly spun her spoon. "So who do you spend most of your time eavesdropping on? I find the poorer folk seem to know the most. The gentry ignore everything that doesn't fit into their orderly worlds." Celobra nodded. "Whoever's life interests me, and sometimes people who annoy me." None of them knew it, but Celobra had been examining the social lives of the tavern's barmaids almost since she had moved to this district. One of them could use magic, although she was poorly educated and very superstitious, and another was also a thief whose alias was plastered on flyers all over the city. Celobra had contemplated helping the poor woman who was saddled with a power that she didn't understand, but she had come to the conclusion that doing it herself would raise too many questions. Instead, she had been scouring the city for magicians who wouldn't be adverse to teaching a barmaid, which had given her a whole new wealth of secrets, as well as the fact that whenever she went to speak with a mage Her Friends would inevitably begin to panic, so she had put the issue on hold.

[Lisenet]

"I usually don't bother with the ones that irritate me," Tellen shrugged. "I see no point in further irritating myself by noticing even more things about them I don't like. Fun to tell the beggar children whose pockets to target, though," she acknowledged. There were a lot of things that irritated Tellen if only on the surface--the difficult part for most people was getting under her thickened skin. The supposed-merchant class woman had perfected the art of caring just enough about ideas and people to be able to form a solid opinion on them, but maintained that ideal distance, that barrier, between herself and the matter at hand, and was able to separate her more vaguely irritable emotions from the slick solidity of her true and logical, objective opinion. It was an art she had spent years working on. Before she left home her temper had been much closer to the surface; she had seen no reason why others shouldn't know her emotional response to them. These days she understood better--the entirely, blatantly honest and precious few people in the world were difficult to take advantage of because they had so precious little to hide and tended to know themselves very well. However, any level of honesty below that pinnacle was entirely too vulnerable to deception. Good and honest people were so very easy to manipulate, and so very tempting, too, for those who enjoyed the game. The brighter the person, the more fun it was to watch their souls crackle and darken with the realization that good people could not save themselves, let alone their worlds, without having threads of darkness through them.

[Would you mind doing something different with your spoken phrases so they aren't both the same? It's a bugger to try to remember who said what when Cellie's and Tellen's voices are both in bold. ]

[pilgrimofmanynames]

"I usually don't bother with the ones that irritate me," the woman said. "I see no point in further irritating myself by noticing even more things about them I don't like. Fun to tell the beggar children whose pockets to target, though," Celobra laughed - a little, clear sound. "How do you change the things that irk you if you don't know how they work?" She eyed the remainder of her venison. It would probably go cold shortly, and that wouldn't do. She began to polish it off, rather slowly, but steadily. As she picked off her food, she added "Besides, it's amusing to do something that bothers them and watch them squirm for once."

[Lisenet]

"How do you change the things that irk you...?"

Tellen pursed her lips and tapped them with one finger. "Good point. I suppose it depends on why they irritate me. If they irritate me because they're pompous, well, that's not harmful. If they irritate me because they're prejudiced, that is harmful. The minor irritations I do my best to ignore, or I'd be all white-haired by now and only half as gorgeous." One side of her mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smirk. Tellen found herself pretty enough, but since her own appearance was rarely a necessary asset to her work. Besides, she changed it as needed. Nobody made a more convincing vagabond than Tellen when she put forth the effort. Twirling her spoon--stained purple-red at one end--over her fingers, she mused, "Irk. Such a fun word. Sounds like a broken wagon wheel."

"Besides, it's amusing to do something that bothers them and watch them squirm for once."

"Oh so true," Tellen agreed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "And the ragamuffins get so creative about it, too. More than one snotty noble has found his pockets full of mud. Or rotten meat, depending on their offence." She chuckled. "So how do you get back at your irritators? You look like the kind who uses a more subtle approach than sneaking burrs into one's hood." Which, by the way, was about the worst thing one could do to a fussy noblewoman.