dirk rider (inatower) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-01-16 17:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, cecilia fennes |
watch where you're going!
Who: Ari & Cecelia
What: A literal run-in
Where: Bazaar district
When: This afternoon
Rating: Tame
Status:Complete!
Being back at work after a long vacation was generally invigorating; sadly, this time Ari had only given herself a few weeks’ respite, and thus it seemed more chore than blessing. By her fourth day of morning rehearsal, she felt at risk for a truly foul mood. It was probably best that she was getting away the next day, if not exactly under relaxing circumstances. Still, a few days of hacking through monsters (wherever Gillian took them, monsters were basically a given) would probably put her life in perspective and make read-throughs at just past dawn seem far more appealing. Fortunately, the director had liberated them by one, and a large coffee and two hours of shopping had relaxed her; she’d stocked up on various sundries, hunted through the antique shops, and spent an inordinate amount of time contemplating spring dresses in the window display belonging to one particularly optimistic seamstress. As she turned away from the shop, her head was in the clouds, which was probably why she didn’t realize she ought to step aside and crashed into another similarly distracted shopper. She yelped comically as her many bags went flying, her hands going automatically to the strap of her instrument case (which was fortunately still secure across her chest; of all things to drop, this was one she preferred not to see flying to the cobbles). After settling into the mages’ tower, it had become clear to Cecilia that perhaps she should stop in the market and pick up a few things. Not immediately - nothing came to her immediately - but after she had spent at least twenty minutes looking for a bar of soap only to realize she didn’t have one. Nor did she have a hairbrush, another pair of shoes, or ink - the last she realized after trying to make a shopping list. Maybe someone else would have gotten these things bought and be back in the tower in a short amount of time, but Cecilia tended to take her time. Everything in Emillion was new to her and she soaked it in as only an outsider could. She spent thirty minutes inside a clock shop only to walk out with a new pocket-watch she didn’t need. She bought a bag of apples with slightly pink flesh, because she thought they looked pretty even though she didn’t particularly like the taste of apples. And then she spied a woman selling soap. Suddenly, she remembered her shopping list, arms full, and she turned sharply - Only to bump into someone else. Her arms released her hold on her apples and the bag fell to the ground, the fruit rolling out into the cobbled street. Cecilia looked down and then up at the woman she had bumped into, her expression blank. “My apples,” she said. Don’t you mean, my apologies? It was on the tip of Ari’s tongue, but to be fair, she supposed she was at least equally responsible for the mishap, and the other woman seemed genuinely distressed by her loss of the fruit… An apple was kicked by a passing chocobo; Ari watched forlornly as her bottle of honey soap rolled away. “My… I don’t even know what was in this bag,” she admitted somewhat sheepishly, before kneeling to begin picking through the items on the ground. (Had she bought this watch? And if so, why had she bought it? It was right beside a hair clip that she almost certainly had bought...) “It seems the sort of day to walk about with one’s mind elsewhere,” she said. “Somewhere warmer, perhaps.” Her hand landed on an apple -- she held it out to the stranger and said, “Here. This one, at least, I am quite certain is yours.” Cecilia took the apple automatically, holding it in her hand. It was softer on the left side. It had been bruised. She wrinkled her nose and picked up the loose burlap bag on the ground, dropping the fruit in there. And then she glanced over at Ari kneeling for a few moments before she bent down as well. “I’m not from here,” Cecilia said after she had picked up something was not hers and, taking a guess, offered it to Ari with an open palm. “Everything looks so new.” A pause, while she reached for her poor pocket watch, now scratched from being dropped - though when she popped it open, she was slightly relieved to see it was still in working order. “Sorry for your things,” she said simply, eyeing the honey soap. She pointed at it. “Where did you get that?” “Half the city isn’t from here, it seems,” Ari said, but not unkindly. “Neither am I, for that matter.” She took the item the blonde held (at least she remembered buying it; that was already an improvement) before adding, “Emillion can be confusing, if you’re not accustomed to all these people milling about with their heads in the clouds: I am the first exhibit of such, unfortunately. I’m sorry, too.” With traffic slowed for a moment, Ari took the opportunity to scamper nimbly into the street and pick up the bottle of soap (unbroken, fortunately) before returning to where her bags still lay. “There’s a merchant down by the instrument makers who makes the best toiletries imaginable,” she answered only then. “Makes you smell good enough to eat, I’ll warn you now.” With an easy, friendly smile (the bump and any perceived fault already forgotten), she held out her hand. “I’m Ari, by the way.” Cecilia took the hand automatically, shaking it very gently before pulling her arm back. “Cecilia,” she said. She could manage an introduction. Her eyes were still glued to the soap. “Down by the instrument makers?” She didn’t know where that was, unfortunately. Her mental map of Emillion was still relegated to the area directly around the Mages’ Tower and the route she had taken from the city gates to get there. Maybe the handful of shops she had popped into, though she still hadn’t strayed too far from the area she knew. “Could you show me?” she asked, turning her head to the other young woman. “Of course the directions I’m giving you are about as helpful as saying it’s on the moon,” Ari said with a laugh. Someone new to town -- and clearly no bard, by her soft, uncalloused hand -- was unlikely to know which side street the instrument shops had claimed for their own. “If you can help me get all of this,” a gesture to the things still scattered across the cobbles followed, “I can take you down there. It’s not terribly far, and not quite lunchtime.” That it was closer to sunset than noon didn’t bother her at all; her mealtimes had never been conventional. Rather than answer directly, Cecilia reached for the closest items, gathering them gently in her skirt before she began to hand them one by one to Ari. They made quick work of cleaning up between the two of them - two apples rolled by the side of the street, but Cecilia didn’t want them, especially when an inattentive passer-by rudely kicked one out of her outstretched hand. She could lose two apples, so they were abandoned and she stood up, dusting off her skirt and robes - though there was a stain now on her right knee that didn’t come off with her half-hearted patting. She cocked her head to the side, awaiting instruction, looking towards her new guide with the guileless trust of a child. That her new acquaintance wasn’t particularly talkative didn’t bother Ari in the least; she was well skilled in filling up silences. With her purchases once again gathered, therefore, she set off to retrace her steps, trusting Cecilia would follow. “The Bazaar is mostly laid out by shop types,” she said as they walked. “I say ‘mostly’ because one cannot expect something this size to be entirely orderly, which is why the shop I’m about to show you is hidden in a place where most people who don’t regularly purchase strings and the like would never find it. Most of the soap makers are that way,” a vague gesture to her right, “but I like this one best.” They took a turn from the main thoroughfare into a narrower street. A variety of instruments were displayed in the windows now, along with scrolls and hand-lettered signs offering music lessons. “The Theatre District isn’t far if you keep going this way,” Ari said, “just in case you ever need it. What do you do?” she asked curiously. Cecilia did follow - obediently, like a dog on a leash, listening to Ari’s words. But of course, listening for Cecilia never promised true attention. Her head swiveled back and forth, catching in the sights, sometimes her expression changing to react - she wrinkled her nose at the smell of a tannery, she smiled a little at a stall filled with string puppets - but when they turned, her attention went back to being Ari’s completely. She was surprised by the question, but as with most things, it would have been hard to tell unless you knew her - only signalled by the slight widening of her eyes. “I’m a black mage,” she said simply, “But I am still learning. That’s why I came to this city.” It was the reason she had been given by the sage at her last guild, and so it was what she parroted back. “Do you spend a lot of time in the theater district?” she asked curiously, a slightly roundabout way of asking the same question back. “I thought you might be.” Robes, soft hands, slightly vacant expression, and that particular brand of wide-eyed innocence -- really, Cecilia was only missing the stack of books to make her the picture perfect mage in Ari’s eyes. “A mage, that is -- that’s about the extent of my guessing skill, however. Do you like it?” Although it was the life she had taken pains to avoid, most mages’ guild members seemed to enjoy their work, for whatever reason. “As for the Theatre District, I live and work there,” she answered readily. “I needed to get out today, thus -- all this. And here we are,” she added, stopping in front of a small storefront with gleaming windows displaying colorful blocks of soap and bottles of various other concoctions. Cecilia fell quiet - for whatever reason, she felt had to think deeply about Ari’s question. Truth be told, there were parts of being a mage she didn’t like - the constant studying, the theory - but she had never really stopped to think about having any other choice but to do it. Being a mage had always been a given for her. “Sometimes,” she said, leaving it at that, and then she didn’t really have to say much then because they had already arrived at their destination. Like a child, Cecilia walked up to the window and nearly pressed her nose right up against the glass. “Wow,” she breathed, and then she turned to Ari - for the first time, her face showed more than just the vacant smile: she was grinning, just like any other person might when inordinately pleased - albeit she was pleased about soap. “Thank you for bringing me here.” Ari laughed -- easy to please, this newcomer-- and said, “You’re welcome. If someone hadn’t taken my hand when I first got here, I assume I’d be lost somewhere in a Tenements alley even now.” She nodded towards the door and said, “They probably smell better without glass in the way. Think you can find your way back to the tower from here?” It shouldn’t be hard, in her estimation -- the Mages’ Guild tower was so tall, it could be seen from nearly anywhere. Cecilia pulled from the window, almost bashfully, and nodded. “I should,” she said, looking at the tall spire standing sentinel over the lower rooftops of shops and homes, “I think. If I can’t, I will just ask.” She shrugged and moved towards the door, only pausing momentarily before she pushed the door in. “Thank you, really,” she said, turning her head to look at Ari, and then she walked inside. |