PM to join A meeting in Zeltiva

[Athinar]

Summer 513, D 70
Athinar walked through the crowd, watching for any Wave Guards. He was wearing one of his disguises, of course, but there would be no use in unnecessarily revealing it. Casually turning to follow a man who had a black cloth tied around his head and a smirk on his face, he stuck to the opposite side of the street from the other man. Passing a stack of crates on the corner of the street, he stood there for a few seconds while the man turned the corner to the next street, and waited, just in case the man turned around.

[Ceira Everwood]

70th Day of Summer, 513 AV When Ceira walked into town today, she did not expect to see flowers everywhere. They were strung up on doors, across windows and filled the streets with multiple dots of colours. Nor did she expect almost all of her deliveries today to be bundles and bouquets of these bright flowers, which were mostly sent to different couples across the city. One of these bouquets she held in her arms, the deep reds were complemented by the pinks and oranges, apparently it was symbolic for love, or so the young man that had paid her to transport them said. He had also announced that today was ‘Tribute Day’ or something about love and Cheva, but to be quite honest, she wasn’t paying attention. Though, one of the things Ceira noticed she jogged at a fast pace across the streets, was how petching hot today was. And I thought the previous heatwave was bad, but today, well - today is a scorcher! Even as she thought this, she could feel dots of sweat roll down her forehead and the sides of her face, her ginger hair was in a long plait today, as she couldn’t handle the loose stands sticking to her back in the heat. Ceira had left her cloak at home today, just donning a loose shirt and some tan pants instead, though she had half a mind to rip them all off. But I don’t think the citizens of Zeltiva would appreciate that sort of display. Ceira stayed away from the more crowded areas, avoiding the large festivities as much as possible, but even so her nerves were acting up slightly. Its lucky this will be my last delivery today, then I can leave and find a nice little nook to maybe take a nap in for the rest of the day, somewhere quiet hopefully. She dodged a couple who were walking at an irritatingly slow pace, their hands intertwined as they smiled at each other, oblivious to anything around them. Rolling her eyes, she continued on. Now... The man said that she lived in the next street over... Looking up, she spied an alley inbetween two stalls that seemed to sell some flowery seafood and sets of beaded jewelry, it seemed to lead to the place she was looking for. Jogging quickly towards it, Ceira avoided the vendors who proclaimed their wares, gripping the package of flowers tightly in her arms. It was a short walk through the alley, there were almost no people in it, which was a bonus. As she exited the passageway, she let out a sigh of relief as she noticed this street had less people in it, only a few small groups or a couple of stragglers that left their houses to go join the celebrations elsewhere. Ok. He said it was the house on the corner... There! She grinned at the small building and swiftly made her way towards it, rapping on the flower-covered door a couple of times. Jeez, what is with these people and flowers today? A dark-haired woman opened the door and as she caught sight of the bouquet of flowers Ceira held, her green eyes lit up. “Oh! Are those for me?” the lady squealed, reaching for the package that Ceira passed over to her. With a smile, the woman shut the door, but not before letting out another shout of joy. Wow - and not even a thankyou! She glared at the wood of the door before backing away, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders as she now realised she had finished for today. She started to jog off, eager to escape the city, but, being as deep in thought as she was, she didn’t see the stack of crates beside her and instead collided with them. She tripped and tumbled into another person standing nearby, the wooden boxes rolling to the floor with her. “Shyke!”

[Athinar]

Athinar fell forward as someone collided with him from behind, knocking some crates on top of him. Landing on the ground, facefirst with a pile of boxes on top of him, he unsheathed his stiletto and tried to turn over. Only succeeding in turning onto his side, he tried to get a close look at who knocked him down. Kicking a crate off of his legs, he started to get free of the massive pile. Looking at the person, he was somewhat surprised to see a young-looking woman. Looking her over, he saw her long auburn hair, gold-flecked brown eyes, and stubborn chin. She looked like she was in her early twenties, about twelve years younger than Athinar. Throwing off a few boxes, he turned to her, and put out his hand, saying, "Well, if you're clumsy enough to run into me as I was just standing there, you might need some help getting up." He frowned as he said this, almost everything concealed under his hood except his mouth and chin.

[Ceira Everwood]

70th Day of Summer, 513 AV Ow ow ow... Petching crates! Cursing and grumbling about her own uncoordinated actions, Ceira kicked a crate away, not caring if there was something delicate or fragile inside. Damn clumsy feet... Overly happy woman with no manners! She let out a small huff of annoyance, hating the whole situation. Is it just too much to ask to be able to go home quickly, without screwing up? Petching luck... She brushed aside another crate, inspecting her hands as she did so. They only had a few minor scrapes from falling onto the street and other than a couple of woody splinters, she was fine. "Well, if you're clumsy enough to run into me as I was just standing there, you might need some help getting up." Ceira turned, glaring at the man who just happened to extend a hand towards her. She knew she was overreacting, but she didn't like the tone her used with her, nor did she like the small stab at her pride through his remark. I can't help that I'm a little clumsy... And I'm already on edge with the damn crowd... Petching festivals... Still giving the man a dark stare, she curtly responded to his hand. "I'll be fine. Ignoring the man's outstretched hand, Ceira chose to get up herself, a frown still plastered on her face. Hows that for getting up? I'm pretty sure I managed to do that myself! Although she tried to get a better look at the mans face, she couldn't see much past the cloak he had on. He was slightly taller than her, which didn't help either, though she still thought that the cloak was an odd choice of attire. Especially since its so hot... He must be roasting in that, what the hell is her thinking? On closer inspection, she saw that he help an item in his hand, it seemed to look like some sort of thin dagger. Her frowned deepened at this, What would he have need of that for? He is very, very odd indeed. Cloak, dagger... Something is not right. Ceira place an indifferent look on her face, trying, but most likely failing, to study the man harder. Something was not right here at all, this man seemed like all types of shifty to her. Who brings a dagger to a festival about love? And wears a cloak in this heat? He's hiding something. And I don't think its a good thing. She eyed the dagger with suspicion, trying to piece together why the man was here and deciding to play it nice, she was tempted to gently question him. "Well, sorry about that mishap, I didn't see you there!" Ceira smiled, squinting faintly as she tried to see any other prominent features of his face. "So, what brings you around these parts?"

[Athinar]

Athinar saw the redhead turn to him and glare, saying, "I'll be fine." Getting up by herself, she gave him a dark stare, which made Athinar smile. She seemed to be looking at him intently, studying him. A normal response, as it was a hot summer day, in a large crowd. Seemingly noticing for the first time that he had his stiletto out, he pulled his outstretched hand into his cloak, he also sheathed his stiletto in his sleeve.

Looking back at the woman, he saw that she was trying to make an impassive look, but there were only a few things wrong with it. Such as the fact that she kept that insufferable scowl on her face all the time. Picking up a crate and setting it back down, he frowned for a second as he saw the man he was tracking walk down the street some more, but sighed in relief as he walked into a tavern with a few of his friends. That'd most likely keep them busy all day.

"Well, sorry about that mishap, I didn't see you there!" Athinar was startled by her sudden cheerful demeanor, thinking, Hmm. First scowling like a Syliran Knight, and now smiling like a gleeman? I don't buy it. Unfortunately, some of his own suspicion might have shown on his face, as he was deep in thought. "So, what brings you around these parts?" Smiling, Athinar said, "Well, a man's to have his secrets, right? So don't you worry yer pretty little head about it." Pulling back his hood, he revealed a young head of dirty blonde hair, olive skin, and a very convincing fake bruise on his jaw. Mentally sighing in relief, he was glad that he looked to be around the same age as the woman. Grinning, he started to brush past her, saying, "Now, I'll just be on my way, if you'd excuse me?"

[Ceira Everwood]

70th Day of Summer,513 AV "Well, a man's to have his secrets, right? So don't you worry yer pretty little head about it." Ceira had to suppress growling at the man, she wasn't good at teasing information out a person, heck, she was as subtle as a rock hurled through a glass window. And this man's jibes towards her were slightly igniting her temper, but she tried to keep it in check. Secrets? What good comes with secrets that involves running around in cloaks with weapons? Not much, thats for sure. Turning around, she placed a couple of crates back in their proper places - or so she hoped - and wondered briefly if anyone had seen her tumble. There were a couple of people on the street, but no one gave the pair more than a couple of wandering glances, if they noticed anything amiss, they didn't show it. She frowned, before trying to relax by stacking one or two more crates. Turning back towards the man, Ceira noticed that he had taken off his hood, which relieved her greatly. She didn't like talking to someone she couldn't see, she found it hard to understand them, or to pick up on their reactions. It unnerved her to an extent, so when she caught sight of the mans face, with the messy blonde hair and light skin, she felt slightly reassured. While studying his face, she noticed the bruise on his jaw and a confused feeling overcome her. Had I done that? Or is he trying to hide it? No matter what she thought, she just became increasingly puzzled. Was he in trouble or is he the trouble? "Now, I'll just be on my way, if you'd excuse me?" The man went to push past Ceira and after a slight hesitation, she let him. She glanced sideways at him, a look of curiosity on her face, as she studied him one last time. Crouching down to fix up the last couple of crates, she used some of the bangs in her face to hide where she was looking. Damn... There doesn't seem to be any Wave Guards around - they're probably at the more popular areas of the festival. Maybe I'm just over-thinking this and the man is fine... But I feel that he isn't exactly 'harmless.' Besides, if he was trouble and caused problems in Zeltiva when I didn't say or do anything, I'd hate myself. "Oh, yes, I won't keep you waiting. Sorry about the mishap again!" Ceira called out to the man behind her, giving him a small smile as she did so. Her curiosity was piqued, which wasn't a good thing as it usually meant she would be annoyed at this itch that she'd just have to scratch. Well, I could always follow him... Right? The more Ceira thought about it, the better - and crazier - it sounded. I can't do that.. I should just try to find someone... She spared a look around the area. Not one sign of authority could be seen so she made her decision on what to do - Ceira would try to follow him, to see what he was up to. Whether it was good... Or bad.

[Athinar]

"Oh, yes, I won't keep you waiting. Sorry about the mishap again!" The redhead called to Athinar while fixing some crates. Looking behind him, he tried to gauge what she was looking at, but her red bangs covered her eyes, while letting her look anywhere without showing it. Walking forward, he strolled casually down the street, seemingly soaking up the atmosphere of the festival. Walking over to a rose vendor, he leaned on the side of the market stall, and asked for a red rose. The merchant pulled one out of a vase, and held out his hand, awaiting payment. Fishing a gold miza out of his coinpurse, he handed it to the man, smiling, and took the rose. Walking to the tavern, he pushed open the door, unassumingly, and walked over to the bar, asking, "Well now, I think I'll have a nice Kelp Beer, today, sir!" The bartender nodded, got a mug, and moved over to the keg, pouring the very drink. Paying the man, Athinar sat down at an empty stool and sipped his beer, forcing down the drink. Looking over at the man and his friends, they were already very drunk and were leering at the serving lady, making very lewd comments and gestures. Frowning, Athinar gripped his mug in anger. Their time would come, soon enough.

[Ceira Everwood]

70th Day of Summer, 513 AV For Ceira, there was an itch that she just couldn’t get to - and it all stemmed from that man. Ceira had learnt to trust her instincts and, having been faced with unease and danger before in life, she knew something was up, though she didn’t know what yet. I just get this feeling... Nope, I have this weird feeling. That man rubbed me the wrong way. Stacking the last crate neatly, she dusted off her hands on her worn out pants, once more complaining about her clothes in this heat before turning around. And then there’s that issue with the cloak and the knife. Even without my instincts, that’s a little suss. Glancing around, Ceira tried to see where the stranger had gone, whilst at the same time trying to be subtle about it. She couldn’t see where the man had went, only the direction, so she decided to go with that, walking down the street. Here, there were a couple of more people, though not enough to trigger a panic attack of hers anytime soon - if anything, she just felt the slight vestiges of worry pool within her. Ceira started to fear that she had indeed lost the man in the ongoing festivities, but it was then that she caught a snippet of a black hood in the distance. Jeez, am I lucky for that cloak right now... Indeed, she was lucky, as the dark colour of the cloak stood out like a sore thumb in all the bright colours and flowers. Only just did she manage to see him slip into a bar, the door swinging shut. Walking past a couple who had flowers adorning their hair, she stopped a few paces in front of the bar. Well, now what? Ceira thought, as she stared at the closed door of the bar. The sounds of the festival was growing slightly, meaning she was getting closer to the heart of the partying. She debated whether she should go inside or not, for she probably could be easily seen as soon as she entered, meaning the game would be up. Decisions, decisions. What if I waited out here? He has to come out eventually. Though she knew already that her curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied with what ifs. Steeling herself, Ceira watched as a person exited the bar. Taking this opportunity, she ducked into the bar, instantly noticing how there was less light in here than outside, it was somewhat shady, damp and dull, almost no flowers could be seen in here. She tried to be inconspicuous, by keeping to the shadows, but somehow her foot found the edge of a chair and she toppled over, landing on the floor with a thud. Petching chair... Who leaves a chair in the middle of a bar? Worried that she may have caused a bit of a scene, she tried to quickly crawl away to the darkest section of the bar, not caring at this current moment of how much of a fool she must’ve looked.

[Athinar]

Athinar's attention was held by the men, but he did see movement from the corner of his eye. Hesitant to take his eyes off of the man, he eventually ripped his focus away from him and looked towards the disturbance. Squinting, he saw a figure crawling on the floor in the dimmer part of the room. Shaking his head, he gulped down some more of his vile drink. Probably just a drunk. Turning back, he was shocked and angered to see the man holding the serving maid around the waist, laughing uproariously. The woman struggled to get free, causing his friends to snicker loudly. Growling audibly, he slammed his drink on the counter and marched over towards them purposefully. Tapping the man on the shoulder, he said, "Let the lady go. Now."
The man sneered and said, "Who's gonna make me, you?" Swigging an unhealthy amount of beer, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. " 'Cause I don't think I will, ser. " His emphasis on sir, coupled with the street slang and his already inebriated state angered Athinar. He let his displeasure show on his face and stepped in close, pressing his hidden finger razors against his side. Speaking lowly into his ear, he said, "Now, I'll give you one last chance before I gut you like a fish. Let. Her. Go." The man's surprise turned quickly into drunken rage, and grabbing his stool, smashed it into Athinar's shoulder, roaring in anger. Athinar, surprised by the attack, fell backwards a few steps, but recovered quickly. Keeping one set of razors out, he hid his other set and drew his stiletto. The other men got up from the table, scowling and muttering. The leader threw the girl into the wall, advancing forward, saying, "Well, now, don'tcha think you're something special, right? Well I'd be happy to put you in your place." Raising his fists, he charged at Athinar, screaming as he did so. Stepping to the side as the man passed, Athinar allowed the man to crash into the bar, causing quite the ruckus.

[Ceira Everwood]

70th Day of Summer, 513 AV

Ceira had managed to crawl behind the bar and was now resting her back against the high wooden ledge. It was musty in this part of the bar, a damp smell invaded her nose and she wrinkled it in disgust. Jeez, this place could use a clean. And it could, the floor was sticky, most likely from split drinks, liqueur and who knows what else. She couldn’t hear much of what was going on in the corner of the room, nor could she see over the countertop from where she was huddled underneath the bench. This irked her, as she always wanted to know whats going on around her - she hated being in the dark.

Which is why it was very surprising - and shocking - for Ceira when someone flew over the bench.

The man crashed into a shelf with a row of bottles, glass shattered and sprayed everywhere and Ceira let out a yelp as she threw her hands up to protect her face from the airborne shards. WHAT THE PETCH?! The man just laid there, sprawled in a heap at the base of a shelf, groaning and muttering profanities. Petch... What just happened? She was confused, one minute the bar was dark and silent, the next people were running around and tripping over themselves. The drunk man let out another curse, spitting and scrabbling to get some purchase to stand on the now-slippery floor. Though she just sat there in a stupor, wondering about what had just occurred.

As the man continued to struggle to stand, Ceira allowed herself to climb to her own feet, ignoring the slight pinpricks of pain that had been caused by the glass. She could see small cuts already forming due to the small red beads of blood that dotted her uncovered arms. Damn freakin’ drunks... The sight that greeted her when she peered over the bench was unexpected, to say the least. The stranger from before seemed to have cause some trouble, at least, from Ceira’s perspective and assumptions. He was being approached by others and from here, she could see the dull glint of what looked to be a blade in his hand.

I knew he was trouble...

Ceira was glad her instincts were right on this account, but she wasn’t glad about the mess she was now stuck in. You just had to go and stick your nose into places you shouldn’t have. You’d think you would know better by now but no... The drunk man from before had finally managed to get up, but he still seemed to be wobbly and unsteady on his feet, which caused him to hold onto the edge of the bar for support. “Hey! Whats the big idea?!” Ceira yelled at the man in the black cloak, blaming him for her mess. She was angry, somewhat at herself and the whole situation, but she felt like the cloaked man was to blame. Seeing the broken chair and the young waitress backing away from the scene, a frightened look on her face made Ceira throw any caution to the wind. So, with a dark glare on her face, she pointed an accusing finger to the man, her voice rising as she yelled at him.

“You think you can just waltz around terrorizing people? You’re a right petching piece of shyke to think like that!”