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[Adair Askara] Wherein trivial slights lead to second encounters.

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This lazy agricultural settlement rests on the swampy shores of the Middle Suvan at the delta of The Kenash River. The River's slow moving bayou waters have bred a different sort of people - rugged, cultured, and somewhat violent. Sprawling plantations of tobacco and cotton grow on the outskirts of the swamp in the rich Cyphrus soils, while the city itself curls around the bayou and spawns decadence and sins of all sorts. Life is slower in Kenash, but the lack of pace is made up for in the excesses of food and flesh in a city where drinking, debauchery, gambling, slavery, and overbearing plantation families dominate the landscape.

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Postby Jaadis Sitai on October 25th, 2013, 10:52 pm

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15th of Fall, 513 A.V.

The click-clack of the carriage’s spokes over dirt and rock syncopated with the labored breathing of a horse and the furious tempo of cloven hooves, a melody made in motion and speed. As the single-person coach sped down the winding roads of Kenash, slaves and freeborn were sent diving out of the way to avoid the carriage. One mother threw her child to the side before leaping herself, escaping only by a hair. The fiery-haired young lady sitting in the back watched this, and then leaned over the divider and into the peripheral vision of the chauffeur. “Driver,” Jaadis called out, speaking almost directly into his ear, “Could we go a little faster, please? It is such a hot day.”

And so it was. The temperatures had spiked seemingly overnight and, for a Fall day in the swamp, that was no mean feat. That morning, Jaadis had awoken in a sweat, and tangled in her bedsheets. She had dressed in light, airy clothes, little more than a silk shirt and breeches, and even so the sweat still beaded her forehead. For those without a fan to direct cool breezes their way and without glasses of lemon water to cool them, it might even have been disagreeable.

The night before had been much cooler. Jaadis remembered sitting down to dinner outside, when zephyrs of cool air had blown in from the Bloodflower fields to raise goosebumps on her back. Her tablemates, unfortunately, had not been nearly as welcome.

All throughout the dinner her uncle and her grandmother had directed barb after barb her way, hiding them behind pretty smiles and little chuckles. As Rosamay’s trueborn daughter Jaadis was well versed in such belittlement, and had countered with a few backhanded insults herself, but even she had been rendered voiceless when Yatmina had tittered, “Gods above, Jaadis, you are a coquettish child, aren’t you? Maybe all those rumors about the things you really do in that little Den of yours are true…”

Excuse me?

It had been this lightning-seared memory that had come to her mind and sent her locking up the Den for a couple of bells and speeding through the city on a Fire Fox...like the horse that carried her, Jaadis was nearly chafing at the bit. She needed to be bad.

The coach wheeled around suddenly and a hard stop delivered her to the northern end of Sun Island. “Thank you,” Jaadis murmured, slipping her driver the silvers agree upon. The parlor in front of her was small, round and white – innocuous, even. With a dark smile Jaadis opened the door and stepped within.

“Ohhh, Adair!”

OoC-10 sm for Fire Fox coach
Credit to Banickle for creating the Sitai insignia (since I'm going to use it often)!
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Jaadis Sitai
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Painted Lady

Postby Adair Askara on November 16th, 2013, 7:34 pm

It was hot. No, it was hotter than hot. Adair Askara was convinced that Ivak was having fun that day. Adair wasn’t though. His idea of fun definitely did not involve being stuck in some kind of furnace! The fact that the roof of his tattoo parlor was partly made of glass made the heat even worse.

As he didn’t feel like moving more than he absolutely had to, he was currently lounging on a couch, a glass with some kind of lukewarm drink in his hand. He was barefoot, his hair was thoroughly dishelved, and he was only wearing a pair of loose fitting pants and a sleeveless top. His Vantha slave was standing at the head of the couch. He too was barefoot, and he had taken his shirt off. He was even hotter as he had to do all the work while Adair was just lying there.

He held a large fan made of peacock feathers in his hands and moved it up and down very quickly which did at least keep Adair from dying from a heat stroke. „I hope we don’t get any customers today“, the Askara murmurred and yawned. The heat was making him a little tired. „What do you think, shall I close early? I’d really like to go swimming or take a cold bath. That’s just what I need right now.“

„You have to pay your loan off“, the slave reminded him. He was, as always, more responsible than his owner. Adair murmurred something inintelligible and slightly obscene that ended with, „Loans suck! And I’m hot! Who’ll visit us on such a day anyway?“

The slave didn’t say anything, but simply pointed at the window. Adair looked at him stupidly for a moment, and then, as he saw a very familiar redhead walk up to the house, he jumped up – feeling a little dizzy as he did so – and hurried to the door.

„Jaadis! My favourite bad girl!“ he exclaimed. „What can I do for you?“
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