Silver and Black (Aloesque)

[Gligar]

As Caia stepped onto the port, she yawned. She'd just gotten her pay, and boy was she famished and tired! Guarding the ship had gone as smoothly as it could, which had its upsides and downsides; no innocent lives were put at risk, but no excitement was to be found either. Well, Caia supposed that one couldn't have their way all the time.

Despite no longer having anything in common anymore with her traveling-partner, Caia couldn't help but regard Antique with a strange sort of curiosity. There was something...different about the dark-haired woman that Caia couldn't put her finger on. She'd met lots of types in her career, but something about Antique stuck in her mind.

"Hey there," she said, walking up to Antique. She'd only spoken with Antique briefly, and always on topics of little-to-no consequence. "I'll be staying here for a few days, so if you're doing likewise...want to grab a drink?"

[Aloesque]

She was counting out her coins, practicing the unfamiliar denominations that Serendipity used. Her sword and dagger still hung at her sides, but she had retired her usual uniform in favor of pants and a thin shirt she had bought off of a sailor. She had her clothes and other belongings in a bag on her shoulder, and her boots were the same as before, lined with gold up the seams.

Antique was surprised to be approached. She had spent so much of the time taking her job seriously, if while she basked in the sensations of sailing. She had been avoiding her counterpart for the job with the silver hair that brought her right back to missing Avvercus every time she saw it.

But when she looked up, it was that very woman and her pretty features inviting her to drink. She seemed friendly at least. "Yeah. That sounds nice actually." She told her.

Cerenis had proven to be as large a city as she'd heard. They'd sailed into the merchant quarter's dock, past many other piers and districts. Even now, the area was filled with hawkers and deal-makers and a sea of crew members from various ships, not to mention supply wagons. It had a lively air that would only be pleasant for so long. Moving to a more socially apt venue sounded ideal.

As they took up pace beside one another, Antique said, "So, Caia right? You remind me of someone, at least when he was younger. Only a little though. And I knew a Kaia once."

[Gligar]

Caia shrugged. "Couldn't be me. I've never seen you in my life," she said, as bluntly as she could. It wasn't as though she was standing on ceremony; she could afford to be a little coarse, especially with a near-complete stranger. Besides, Caia got the feeling that Antique didn't much care for little niceties. Good. In their line of work, niceties were hard to come by.

Besides, she was far too tired from the trip to even think about minding her manners. Oh, well. If the other girl had a problem with that, Caia could probably find someone else to hang out with.

"So what was this person like?" she said, without missing a beat – or even seeming a little remorseful for her bluntness just moments ago. "You seem to think well enough of him; I don't think you'd take me up on my offer if you didn't. If he reminds me of me, then I need to know exactly what that means."

[Aloesque]

She was direct. That was certainly something important to know about a person. Antique actually chuckled softly at her response, though she didn't explain why. It wasn't a rude thing, but her timing hadn't been very couth.

But then, how was she to describe Avvercus to this woman? She would at least try. "I think it's mostly the hair. I keep seeing you in the corner of my eye and thinking it's him." Was that too much to share? "When we were both a lot younger, we were..." She was trying to recall information from another world again, and she was stubbornly refused. She would have to generalize.

"Well, he is a sword mage. I don't know if you saw me in those golden-black robes--they go with these boots:" She gestured to her feet as they walked. "And they were his until I appropriated them. At the time though, he was so determined. His eyes shone in a way that was kind of taken away from him...

"But I could ramble on forever about my failed relationships. Tell me something about you?"

[Gligar]

An old flame, hm? Caia couldn’t say that she knew the feeling. She’d never had a serious relationship in her life – her adventuring life precluded anything other than brief flirtations and other, less savory short-term arrangements.

But she knew a thing or two about people not being who they seemed at first glance, and frankly? She wasn’t fond of it. “Sounds like you were a poor judge of character then,” Caia said, her tone neutral – neither dismissive nor insulting. “It’s fine. It happens to the best of us.”

“As for me?” Caia decided to tell Antique the only thing she knew to tell – the truth. “Well, I’m not sure what’s so interesting about my relationships. Never had a serious lover in my life, and the closest I’ve had…well, my parents wouldn’t be very approving of them. You meet all sorts of unsavory folk in this business.”

“By the way, I have seen you in those robes. They go well with your boots.”

[Aloesque]

A poor judge of character? Antique lost a flash of hot anger. So condescending! She huffed, and felt the need to ameliorate the behavior with a confirming, "Mm." Caia didn't seem like she had meant to be so insulting. She gave her the benefit of the doubt, doffing her indignence.

"Thanks." She said with sincerity, genuinely appreciating the compliment on her attire. Was it rare that people complimented her, or rare that she spoke with anyone long enough for them to care to?

"I think you meet unsavory folk wherever you go, actually. The rare ones are the savory sort--oh!" She pointed across Caia, to her right, where some kind of raucous patio overflowed with drunkenly wavering patrons. It was a loud and lively scene, filled with color and laughter, yet the building was a starkly contrasting gloomy shack. "Do you think it's quiet enough inside?"

[Gligar]

When Antique pointed out the patio of rowdy people, Caia took one look at them and smiled. "Not at all," she said, adjusting her breeches. "And that's just the way I like it. C'mon – let's see what all the commotion's about."

Caia then walked briskly towards the shack, the smile on her face only growing wider. Forget standing at ceremony at a noble's house – this was where all the fun happened, in places where the company was rough and the seating rougher. It was a gamble, really; who knew what would befall two sellswords in a place like this?

When she opened the door, she did so by slamming it open – immediately, the rather shabby shack's shabbier-looking denizens looked to her and her companion, as though assessing a threat. Caia didn't blame them; she was plenty threatening, and she wanted people to know that. But she wasn't here for a fight.

Well, unless chance would give her one.

[Aloesque]

Long strides carried Antique comfortably behind her. At least, it was comfortable until she threw the door open. Caia certainly had her own approach. Antique opposed the threatening and posturing mentality, preferring to be underestimated.

Nevertheless, she had a pretty, expensive-looking sword at her waist. Something people might want, so her hand came to rest on its pommel. She scanned the room and spotted at least one patron wearing a discomforting smirk. She prepared her Personal well of magic for wards and boons, reminded of how Le'raana humbled her in a way, yet prevented from recalling how. She could have reached for Soris's words, but now was not the time.

The atmosphere did not welcome them. The bar was filled with men and ale, sweaty musk and a lack of trust. She guessed these might be the sort to condemn women for taking to the sea over blind superstitions.

But she had temperance and a fair dose of sense. Her hand came off her sword, and Antique asked Caia, "How about you get us a seat and I'll pay for the ale?"

[Gligar]

Caia nodded. "Sounds like a good enough plan to me," she said. Once Antique was off, Caia started looking around for a table – she didn't care how insulated she'd be from the unpleasant folk here. She could take care of herself, and frankly? Any excuse to let off some steam was as good as any.

Once she'd found a seat, she immediately assumed the most unassuming position she could. Although she wasn't opposed to a good fight per se, she wouldn't seek them out actively; if you were looking for work in any locale, that just wouldn't do. She'd learned that lesson the hard way, of course; generally speaking, people hired mercenaries to get them out of trouble, not into trouble.

It didn't take her long to notice that two men were leering at her. Sighing, Caia put her hand on her chin. She'd been at this game for long enough to understand when people wanted trouble, and she knew exactly how to give it to them.

[Aloesque]

While she waited for the bartender to pour their drinks, Antique faced away from and leaned against the counter. There was a man sitting next to her, groaning over his many empty glasses in a state of insular misery.

The environment was, unfortunately, a crass sort of cacophony. A place for testosterone and aggression. Not a place for a conflicted idealist on one of an innumerable number of journeys along an introspective path.

No, Antique was not at home here. At least not in mind. In a way however, she was at home everywhere she went.

She took the time to attune her attention to the energies around her. The air was sweet and sour with sweat and alcohol, but there was still magic in it, and she drew it into her lungs, let the energies of the earth wreath her, and spread her personal energy throughout her form. It was a meditative state of being, a peaceful one, interrupted only by the fruits of her patience.

Sword swaying almost silently at her hip, she approached Caia and set a frothy mug of their most bitter tap before her. "I thought you would like a battle for a drink." She said, seating herself across from the lady with her own glass of water clasped in her hands. "Is it on to another job here in Cerenis?" She asked.

[Gligar]

Unlike Antique. Caia was perfectly at home here. Fancy noble estates just didn't do it for her – she'd been to a few in her time, and she'd universally loathed the experience. In places like these, the real adventure went on. And from the looks of those ugly men at the back, she'd have a bit of a handful to deal with soon.

"It looks like it. That is, if I don't get chased out," she said, pointedly glancing at the men staring at them. It was a warning she half-hoped they'd take; the other half, of course, was itching for a good fight. Although it would be rude of her to get Antique involved in whatever scuffle she'd cooked up, a good tussle was never something Caia would say no to.

Of course, that warning did nothing but inflame the men's fragile egos. After muttering with his companions, one of them snapped at her. "What're you lookin' at, bitch?" he said, his face turning into a scowl.

[Aloesque]

Vaguely sad and unimpressed eyes scanned between Caia and the belligerent strangers. She closed her eyes and nodded to herself with pursed lips.

He shouted an insult, and she shot him a cold glare.

A sharp intake of breath flooded her with Le'raana's magic, and she wove it with her own. After she appraised him, lacking even a hint of hostility or interest, she let it go. Unweaving her spell-to-be and sighing, she gave her attention to Caia.

"I don't think we'll end up being turned out of here." Antique told her, adjusting her sword so the scabbard wouldn't catch on anything if she needed it. Then, she took a calm sip of her water.

[Gligar]

Caia pursed her lips. "I wouldn't be so sure. Liquid courage makes men do foolish things." Regardless, the man did back off, which provided them a brief reprieve – whether it would last or not remained to be seen. At this development, she felt free to slouch slightly on her chair. They could stare and jeer all they liked, but if they so much as thought of touching either her or her compatriot? Well, they'd get what was coming to them in short order. Very short order.

"Where were we, then?" Caia tapped her chin. "Right, other jobs. I'm afraid sellsword work's the only talent the gods have seen fit to grace me with, so that's what I'm doing here. And you?" she said, gesturing to Antique. "Is it likewise with you, or do you have some other trade you intend to ply?"

Caia was interested, of course. If she wasn't, then she'd have simply left Antique without another word.