delicious and magical baked things, yum.

[Anonymous]

"Jaala! You're back? So soon?" An old, hunched woman asked gleefully, buying a peach and apple pie, glancing at the sturdy, magically laced cart that an array of equally magically infused tarts, buns, pies, small cakes, and pastries sat on, their fresh, sweet scent wafting far to entice customers.

Jaala swept back her orangey hair, a wide grin arranging her face pleasantly. "I wanted some sea air," she responded conversationally, selling a few more tarts and buns and the old woman nodded as if she was knowledgeable enough to know about Jaala's wanderlust. It forced her, time and time again, to shut down her cozy little Zantaric shop and seek out the wide open space of the ocean, the stretching beaches, and the invigorating salty air.

The cart was draped with Serendipity's colors, and the ledges were laden with baked goods as a few racks here and there hung with trinkets, like tastefully home-made jewelry that were spelled a little to give it some use. Most of what she was selling was food – anything she created that was bewitched or found tended to be back at home, in the care of her too-many mischievous little ghosts and layers of complex spells to make her house undetectable and, well, rather invisible.

She surveyed her cart, finding it more or less acceptable – it was a business, it worked. And she sat down on a chair that hadn't been there a few moments ago and absently glanced at the blue roan pony who, for sanitary reasons, was located a good twenty feet away and tied loosely to a tree, looking ever irritable as people straggled to close. The mare was strong and sturdy looking with an austere roman nose and an angry flick to her black tail. She was healthy and shone, the sigils that swam over her coat and flesh almost undetectable.

And then the lunch rush hit and Jaala was too preoccupied to give the irritated little mare more thought (she was rather accommodating and she hated leaving her so far away but she couldn't have the cart smelling strongly of horse, now could she?). Then she was all wide smiles and light, pleasant conversation with occasionally trying to persuade some customers to buy more (although she never used to magic to influence anybody's mind, mostly due to the laws of her magic, along with a bit of a moral code) and all about the properties of some particular blueberry tarts to another customer, all the while handing out food and drawing in money.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran looked at several maps in his little home on the coast. He was planning a couple heists, but he wasn't exactly sure where to begin. He eventually looked up and saw the girl with the baking cart. "Hmm... I wonder if she is need of getting rid of her stock." He chuckled to himself and reached for his quiver, sliding it on his back. He noticed the crowd and decided not to use his more dangerous arrows, instead grabbing his Frost, Wind, Water, and Gas arrows and sliding them into his quiver. He grabbed his dagger and slipped it into the sheath before grabbing his bow and slipping outside.

The crowd was too busy looking at the cart to notice him, so he slid up carefully, and quietly. There was a tree nearby with some magical horse, and he decided not to hide there since horses were fairly intelligent. He jumped into the tree a couple feet behind the cart and waited for the crowd to die down some so his arrows would have greater effect on his target, and not some innocent people.

[Anonymous]

About ten more minutes of being nearly overwhelmed, Jaala trying to tend to everybody's needs as much as possible, since it seemed that nobody could form a damned line. Nope, they all were fairly familiar with her so they didn't feel at all the need to be orderly and quiet whenever they approached her cart. They felt like she was their personal friend out for their well-being, and while Jaala would be reluctant to say otherwise, she also didn't like her cart being the center of a swell of hungry, talkative and determined people.

A small, swarthy man darted out nervously, hanging along the left side of her cart.

"Jaala, um, did you--"

Jaala's head whipped around, before quickly smiling. She moved towards the left side of her cart as people dwindled away and conversation dropped. Jaala raised her eyebrows at the customer who looked a little embarrassed and shuffled his feet. Jaala tried to suppress her laughter, feeling it bubble up beneath her breast bone before her customer finally drew in nearer.

"Did you have that, um, special jam that you had last time? You know, the, uh," he seemed to be at a loss for words. "The... dark blue..." his voice drifted into incoherent mumblings.

Jaala's wide mouth twitched with the effort to hide her amusement. "Yes, certainly." She reached down into the shelves on the inside of the cart and handed a neat little jar filled with a deep blue jam. "You remember how to use it?" She bit her lip with the man nodded vehemently. "Of course! Thank you so much, Jaala," he said as he slipped her a little extra coin that she swiftly pocketed as the earnest, embarrassed little man walked away with something that'd help with his, ahem, sexual prowess.

She wiped her forehead with a shawl, and bent to pull a bag from a shelf, figuring there'd be no one else to come for awhile.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran smirked and drew a Gas Arrow from his quiver and nocked it. The faintly glowing green tip blended in with the tree's leaves, fortunately, and he aimed carefully. He had to hit the ground in between the girl's feet if she were to have the full effect of the sleeping gas. Once he aimed, he breathed in slowly as he drew back his bow. Well, girl... I hope you have a nice little nap. He smiled and let go of the string, firing the Gas Arrow. It hit the ground where the liberator aimed and, with a dull poof, released the cloud of sleeping gas that floated up and covered the girl completely. The now headless arrow bounced away and rolled under a root of the tree.

[Anonymous]

The moment the arrow struck and gas started floating up her hands and shawl wrapped up around her face and gold light sparked up from her skin angrily as she staggered out of the gas, not daring to take away the shawl from her face. She snapped her fingers furiously, in succession when the desired effect didn't happen before a great burst of golden light cracked from her finger tips and a flask shot into her hand as she scrambled away from her cart.

The mare gave a hoarse, angry sound as she pulled violently at her lead, seeing Jaala staggering around drunkenly. She pawed angrily before jerking her head and rushing up to keep her owner safe.

As hurriedly as she could as the world sailed up awkwardly out of impending darkness, that heaviness of sleep dragging at her insistently. Finally, flask open, she poured the contents into her mouth and gulped it down. With relief, the tonic snapped open her flagging eyes and she lurched forward to grab onto the pony.

Unfortunately, without a specific way to target the affects of the gas, the drink she kept as a safety net to dispel nastiness and restore her managed to keep her away, but made her feel dizzy, light-headed, and a little shaky. She just hoped she hadn't just been poisoned and that her own magic and this magic - or whatever it was - wouldn't mix too badly.

Jaala gulped air and glared around with dark eyes, searching. "Who the fuck?" She snarled loudly, her hand twisted into the roached mane of the mare. She couldn't even really perform magic at the moment, she could feel it. It was building, swelling, but she couldn't tap into it well, just getting weak little streams. She felt exactly how she felt when she was exhausted and overworked.

As long as it wasn't a poisonous sleeping gas, she supposed it wasn't too bad.

Her eyes scoured the area angrily, nonetheless, locking onto a suspicious figure, as the area swelled suffocatingly with irritation, frustration, and a good deal of outrage. "Was it you? What a nice little fucking fellow. That better not have been poisonous," she snapped, unable to focus too much.  The mare became a physical expression of Jaala's anger with pawing hooves, loud snorts and a lashing long tail.

Jaala took another drag on the lavender tonic, finally tapping into the magic around her. Her fingers were poised, as she drew in a deep, ragged breath, eyes darting to her cart that was a little bit away. Either keep her cart safe or risk being attacked - she didn't know what he wanted, but she wasn't sure how many moves she had left, and she'd wait to see.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran swore lightly. The girl didn't quite fall asleep. Oh well, she was a little dazed for a while. He guessed it was time for plan B. He drew another arrow, this time a Frost Arrow, and fired it at the girl and her horse. The arrow exploded upon hitting the ground and froze the horse's legs as well as the grass around the tree, plus a little bit of the tree as well. The girl's legs should also be frozen to the ground as well and Shaeran pulled his hood up before dropping from the tree. "Now, my dear... Normally I would introduce myself to such a lovely creature, but I'm afraid I must be going with some of these." He motioned to the cart. He was glad that nobody was out anymore and he grabbed a couple of the treats, carefully sliding them into his pouched belt. "Now then... Farewell, my dear." He smirked and did a flip into the tree before heading for his home. When he got there, he put all of his arrows into his quiver before firing a Flaming Arrow at the girl, which hit the ice and melted it. He put his bow into the quiver and put the cap on it before hiding it. He quickly changed clothes so if the girl finds his home, he could play dumb.

[Anonymous]

Dazed, confused, now cold and then warm - she was amazed that Gargoyle hadn't taken off in headlong flight to the nearest forest to go and be away from her crazy owner. Although Jaala would like it to be on the record that she wasn't typically assaulted by random strangers - in fact, her life was often quite pleasantly quiet. Until she just happened to be minding her own fucking business and she was bombarded with someone's magic and then, THEN they had the audacity to steal her food.

The moment they were unfrozen and Gargoyle only reared and bucked, making her displeasure loud and very hard to ignore with a hoarse scream she lunged forward and away from Jaala. Jaala glared, her eyes screwed up into slits as she stared at her lightened cart. Her lips stretched into a tight smile as she snapped her fingers, a gold spark shooting into the ground and into the cart which promptly folded up into the bag that had fallen a few short feet away.

She snatched up the bag violently, set it around her neck and across her chest, snapped her fingers once - nothing - and then a second time and a necklace with a vial dangling on it snapped into her hand. She tossed it around her neck, snapped her fingers weakly again and let the sparks shoot into the vial which glowed. The spell worked immediately as she drew in a deep breath.

And then she felt around for it, unfurling the feelers inside her, searching for the stolen treats. One more spell, she breathed it out with three feeble snaps of her fingers, searching only for the thief, not the others who bought her food and trailed her own magic mentally. With a smirk she waved the mare to come with her and followed the trail.

When she got the door her fist pounded it mercilessly. Okay, sure, she didn't quite know what she was going to do when she came face to face with the thief. But she was angry and insulted. If she had had the presence of mind she'd have mind all those goodies explode on him, but she hadn't and the moment had passed.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran opened the door. "Oh, hello there." He smiled. "And who might I have the pleasure of addressing?" The thief bowed and stepped aside, motioning inside. Oh great. She's some kind of witch, isn't she? he thought. Well, if she calls me out straight to my face, then I'll admit it. I'm a liberator, not a liar.

[Anonymous]

He surprised her so much she actually forgot to be angry and her mouth dropped open before snapping shut with a nearly audible click as he so easily invited her inside. She scooted one foot inside the door, not trusting him as she glanced back at the blue roan pony who hung back. "Stay put, little Sister," she called to the mare whose ears flicked forward and then relaxed. Jaala looked back around her and uneasily shifted inside, warily glancing around the home, as if unsure if something was going to launch up and accost her. A small feeling of satisfaction flickered inside, just a small flame uncurling. She found the right person, and he opened the door and now she knew what she wanted.

She was quiet a moment as she worked through her anger as it sprang up again before turning and giving him a sour look, her face going from red and leeching of color, making her thousands of freckles stand out boldly. Her jaw jutted mulishly. "I demand an apology. You stole quality magic baked goods, upset my mare, assaulted me," her voice was dangerously soft as anger swelled inside her again.

Her Teleporter blood quaked with anticipation, and the seal magically tattooed across her back to hold back that violent legacy of her parentage seared hot against her. "And for making me," she paused for a moment, considering what to say here, but not wanting to let him off the hook for a single damned thing, "unwell," she settled for, finally. Her arms crossed and she stared at him hard with dark eyes, her red and orange hair falling into her eyes.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran sighed and closed the door before leaning on the frame. "Oh alright, you caught me, my dear." He chuckled. "Stole is such a strong word... I prefer the term, 'liberated.'" He smiled. "I'll apologize for upsetting your mare and 'assaulting' you, but I won't apologize for liberating the food. I'm a down-on-his-luck guy and I have to do something to survive. Sure, I could sell my arrows, but then I wouldn't be the only one in the criminal underworld to use such creative tactics. And for the record... The Gas Arrow is not poisonous. It is merely a harmless gas designed to put you to sleep for a while, though your magic kept you from falling under. I congratulate you for that." He chuckled again before going to his belt and retrieving the goods that he liberated. "Oh well. You caught me and so I'll give them back. The only reason I'm doing this is because you are so lovely." He winked and held out the pastries.

[Anonymous]

She gave him a shrewd look, unable to stop looking wary of him and his house, like something in it might bite her. She listened to him, her face going from stoic to incredulous the more he talked. Jaala didn't have a very good opinion of him, mostly because of his ludicrous idea of 'liberating' food. Her fists tightened against her, as if straining for the need to slug him, right across the mouth that blabbed so much silliness it offended her.

Wearily, she wondered if he actually was down on his luck or if he was bullshitting her. However, she couldn't help looking faintly relieved in the knowledge that she wasn't poisoned. It unsettled her a moment to realize that instead of possibly dealing with the fact she could be poisoned, she ran headlong after some strange thief. She was twenty-seven - hadn't she outgrown that impulsiveness?

Jaala shook her head at him, snatching the pastries and peering at them before looking at him steadily. She raised one finger, "I prefer 'stolen.' You know, taking something that isn't yours, that I spent, you know, work, time and magic on," she told him, and then raised another finger, "Don't call me my dear or compliment me," she said it flatly, her face shuttering as another finger shot up, "and these are infused with a simple spell for luck and health." She thrust them back at Shaeran with an expression that suggested even she couldn't believe she was doing this. "Take them," she muttered, sounding weary.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran smiled and set the goods down on the table. "Well, thank you." He sighed and sat down on a chair next to his pile of maps. "Few things in this world are ever certain. One thing that is for certain is that few people can resist charms." He chuckled. "You can stay here for a while, if you'd like. I can probably even teach you to use the bow. If not, I understand. There's nothing keeping you here at all." He grabbed his quiver from under the table and popped the cap off, drawing the bow and a regular arrow before firing it at a target painted on a piece of padding hanging from the wall. The arrow hit dead center and he twirled the bow around. "I really should get a bow that can seperate into blades though. That would be pretty useful." He smirked.

(Feel free to decline his offer. It's just his nature to do that. XD)

[Anonymous]

She didn't know what to do or really say. She shifted awkwardly where she stood, running a hand over her orangey hair, feeling uncomfortably warm and suitably embarrassed. Okay, she had made a sufficient enough spectacle, demanded an apology, got one and she found it probable that the most decent thing she should do is leave, instead of continuing to intrude on this... thief. Yeah, that's all she could think of him as. She didn't care what he said, or charms, or anything of the sort.

But then he made a curious offer and she watched the arrow sing into the center of the target and she stepped closer, without ever realizing it. She tilted her head, looking from him to the arrow. Finally, when she'd heard what he said she raised her brow sharply at him. "What in the name of the world do you need one that separates into blades for?" She shook her head at him, but there was amusement in his voice.

"Alright, if you're serious, I think you should teach me," she said slowly, considering him from dark eyes. She shrugged. "It could turn out useful," she murmured, although she still felt uneasy. "Has everyone ever told you that you're odd?" She added, deciding that that was what made it so strange, but really just mentally accusing him.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran chuckled and decided to answer the questions in order. "It's a pain to put my bow away and draw my dagger, then put the dagger away and draw my bow. It would save time." He chuckled. "And I'm dead serious about teaching you. I have a spare bow, in case mine ever got stolen from me. Unlikely, but possible." He chuckled at her last question. "Ah, people can think of me how they want. Honestly, as long as they don't call me a thief, I don't care. I'm a liberator, not a thief." He rose and opened a very thin door, revealing a second quiver and bow. "Hmm... I may need to actually help you make a bow first. This one is my size, but that may not work for you."

He grabbed the quiver though and checked it. It was full of unenchanted arrows. Perfect. He walked back to the girl. "You never did introduce yourself, nor did I. I am Shaeran, at your service." He bowed before holding out the quiver.

[Anonymous]

"I see. I rely too much on magic to have ever thought much of bows and arrows," she said thoughtfully, head tilting to one side. "Then again, I'm not often attacked." Her voice, to her credit, didn't emphasize or suggest the earlier situation with Shaeran too much, although the implication was there, a flicker of a shadow in her view.

She shook her head slowly, giving a wide, incredulous smile. He was a liberator? He really was deluded, she thought, keeping her lips pressed together so she wouldn't say anything, not a word. He could think of himself how he wanted, he didn't have any business knowing what she thought of him and she had no business doling it out. So she rolled back her soft shoulders, the seal across her back tight and hot, magic coursing through it, licking against her nerves angrily. Jaala didn't say this was one of the reasons she didn't touch many things that were so obviously weapons. It sent a jolt of memory through her, a memory that wasn't hers, but from a legacy from her blood. That's all it was, a whisper from she could have been. Teleporters, after all, were natural-born warriors.

"Oh, I see. Well, I don't want you to go through any trouble," she replied honestly, peering at the quiver with a quiet, thrumming intensity. "Oh, well. I'm Jaala," she responded absently, as if her name wasn't particularly important as she took the quiver tentatively, and despite the complete lack of enchantment she felt electricity slice through her fingertips, down deep into her nerves. The seal sparked violently and she winced. "How long have you been at the bow and arrow?" She asked him, her fingers light on the quiver.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran shrugged. "For as long as I can remember, really. My homeland was a land without rules, so I had to do what I could to survive. Thank the gods I don't really remember most of my time there. The few memories I do have haunt me." He sighed. "In fact, it's one of the reasons I refuse to kill. I prefer to knock people out or put them to sleep, but never kill." He never revealed much about his past, but he liked this girl. "Besides, making a bow isn't any trouble, really. It seems to me that the type of wood that should be used depends on the person. Come on, I know where a grove is with many different types of trees. We can find the one that really speaks to you." With that, he rose and packed up his quiver with all of his different arrow types, the myriad of glowing colors fading once they were encased in the leather.

He looked at Jaala and smiled sheepishly. "You never know when something will happen. I'd rather be prepared." He also grabbed belt and his dagger and sheathed it again before grabbing his blackjack as well, slipping it behind him on the belt. "Shall we go, then?" He opened the door and waited for Jaala.

[Anonymous]

She paused a little as he revealed something about his past and Jaala felt a familiar red creep up her neck and her dark eyes cast down, as if focusing hard on something, feeling slightly embarrassed, like it was her fault he had chose to reveal something personal - or, worse yet, that he felt forced to that. But the embarrassment passed, grudgingly, and she looked up and gave a wan smile at him. So Shaeran had a tough life, then and now if he had to steal (she mentally put a little emphasis on this), and she felt almost a little abashed to have had such a good life in comparison. Her childhood had been, well, nothing short of magical and pleasant.

Jaala nodded slowly, knowing what he meant about wood speaking to a person. "Yeah, alright, then," she said softly, before grinning sharply. "Good thing you don't kill. If you had killed me you've no idea. I'd have come back as the nastiest ghost ever and haunt you," she said brightly, teasing.

She slipped out and to find the blue roan with her lips around someone's garden flowers and Jaala made a sharp sound, like a mother finding her child misbehaving. The mare snuck a look at her and flattened her ears. "Don't give me that look, Sister, I'll knock you back to last week," she snapped and her chin jutted in a characteristic look of pure mulishness. The mare had a very simple look to her and neither eased up at Jaala approached the mare boldly and shoved the pony alone, who moved stiffly at first until her gait loosened and looked at Shaeran as if for the first time.

Jaala blew her hair out of her face. "Don't let Sister fool you, she's clever and she bites," she said it sternly, but there was no missing the affectionate pat Jaala stroked down the mare's wither, that spoke volumes.

Gargoyle's head butted into Shaeran, the mare's teeth cruising his clothing boredly.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran fell over when he got headbutted, but he started laughing. "Oh, alright. You got your revenge, girl." He got up and dusted himself off, still chuckling. He turned and started heading for the grove. "I wonder what wood would speak to you..." He said. "You're an enigmatic person. It's hard for me to tell." He hoped she would take it as the compliment it was. Eventually, he came to the grove and smiled. "Ah, the oaks, maples, and pines. Always a pleasure to be here." He chuckled to himself. Maybe he was a little odd.

[Anonymous]

The moment Shaeran touched ground the mare's heels flicked half-heartedly to the sky and settled into a jaunty prance that made her seem suspiciously self-satisfied. Jaala did nothing to reprimand or control the pony, and instead watched her with an exasperation and fondness as she snorted and tossed her head playfully.

Jaala gave a casual shrug and a short laugh. "I have no idea what wood it'll turn out to be," shaking her reddish head. The walk was peaceful, interrupted with the occasional rough, teasing nip from a set of horse teeth, and only once Jaala gave a loud yelp, jumped, and chased the mischievous pony off.

Stepping into the grove, Jaala paused to inhale the air, closing her eyes. Ah, nature. Such a pleasant smell. She lazily strolled among the trees, her head tilted as if listening to them. But really, she was just waiting for one to draw her, as she passed a few pines and maples and then, there it was. A gnarled, bowing, sweeping oak that drew her like bees to flowers. Jaala gave a beaming smile and turned to lean against the tree. She always liked oaks - just the way they were so distinctive, the way their branches bowed and curved, almost protectively.

"This is it, Shaeran," she said, a touch of triumph and satisfaction in her voice. "Isn't she a pretty oak?" She said, glancing at it and then peering around the trunk almost suspiciously. "There aren't any dryads, are there? I had a nasty run in with one when I was younger at my grandmother's. She absolutely loved to throw apples at me," she said it warily, shaking her head.

Only her. Her other siblings managed just fine.

[Anonymous]

Shaeran chuckled and walked up to the chosen oak tree. "Oh, I've spoken to the dryads around here. As long as I'm respectful towards the tree, I can harvest as much wood as I require, provided that I do not chop the tree itself down." He smiled. "When I first arrived here, it took forever to draw the dryads out so I could make my bow with their permission." With that, he knelt before the tree and began to pray, or so it seems. It was merely an ancient incantation of respect towards the tree and granting it the ability to heal quickly.

Once his incantation was done, he rose and drew his dagger, winking at the dryad camoflauged in the tree (she nodded to show that she could feel the spell working and allowed him to harvest wood.). He climbed up and found the most flexible and thick branch that he could and, pulling out a flaming arrow to heat the dagger, swiftly cut the branch. "Incoming!" He let the branch drop just to the side of Jaala and her pony, falling away from them. He quickly found a similar branch and repeated the process before dropping from the tree and putting his arrow and dagger away before picking up the branches.