Charcoal and Tales (Gale)

[Liana]

45th of Winter, 513 AV

Zeltiva had grown to be less terrifying in her inexperienced eyes over the past week. She'd arrived with a realization that perhaps she hadn't been ready to strike out alone. Instead of baby steps, Liana had took off running, eager to break off her leash and falling flat on her face in the process. The Konti had met some less than desirable people on the port city's streets, often bringing back her uncertainty and homesickness. But the others that she'd met had cultivated and coaxed the courage she'd had on Mura out of the shadows. A bitterly cold wind blew off Mathews Bay, biting through the cloak drawn tight around her shoulders. She walked quickly down the street, head down and hood low over her face. Each puff of breath fogged the air with steam. Without the wind chill it wouldn't be a terrible night, but it seemed Zulrav felt like freezing everyone to death tonight.

Leth was high in the sky already thanks for the short winter days, surrounded by twinkling stars in a cloudless sky. They cast beautiful reflections on the water each time she caught a glimpse through the alleys and buildings. In the upper foothills she finally reached the Quill's Rest; a favorite spot of hers to enjoy tea, draw, and just relax. Better than being holed up in her room at the inn. She forced herself now to get out and experience the city with the locals. Liana still felt very much like a tourist, but at least she was trying now unlike when she first arrived. It was embarrassing just thinking about how she'd acted like a lost child. Inside the Rest it was warm and welcoming. Candles were lit all over, casting their pleasant glows and making shadows dance. A hearty fire blazed in a large fireplace and there was a small crowd.

The swell of voices rarely rose above a comfortable murmur in the Rest. They were polite and understood people had work to do, or needed a relaxing atmosphere. She loved it. The owner, Andus Lectara, looked up from a conversation with some regular customers as the cold wind blew in behind her. She quickly shut the door and smiled shyly at him, glancing around the room as she crossed to her usual spot. It was a small nook by the fireplace and gave her a good view of most of the room. A part-time helper, a student from the University, soon brought over a cup of steamed kelp tea. Liana got at least one during every visit, and a handful of them knew this. She was grateful for the warm brew and cradled the cup in her chilled fingers, nursing it close and taking a tentative sip of the delicious drink. It was just cool enough not to burn her tongue.

Sitting down the cup a moment, Liana pushed the hood off her head and shrugged her backpack off, sitting it on the cushioned bench beside her. She fished out her journal and some of the charcoals she'd brought along. They instantly stained and smudged her fingers so she was careful to open the journal with her other hand and found a blank page in the section she restricted to drawings. The door to the Rest opened momentarily and another cold gust rushed in, making the candles on her table sputter in protest. She looked up as a scruffy man came in, a slight limp in his step. Her eyes followed him across the room, curiously examining that hobble-shuffle that carried him to the seat he decided to take.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

Night had fallen upon the scholarly city of Zeltiva as the day ended and me returned home
to meet their families after a long day's work. However, some men's home... was their work. As in you live on the ship that you work on. And no man wants to be at work twenty-four/nintey-one now do they? Especially when the men you worked with were rather... Eeeeeeeeh.... There was no word for the men that Gale worked with.

As a matter of fact, a roll of the eyes would be the only logical way to explain his rambunctious crew. Half of the ship crew hated him, the other half loved him. The people who hated him pushed him around, and the one who love him push him around. They were slobs, pigs, they had codes for everything you can think off, and for the life of him, Gale could not understand any of them. They called splinters rat hairs, supper time the pot, a ship was the "A Box", and apparently the name for mopping the deck was Lousy, so whenever they told him to keep mopping, they would say 'Finish up lousing about the deck". Gale could hardly keep up with any of them, and when he could, he wished he didn't.

Any man would beg for a break from that particular crowd. So, after hours when most of the crew was asleep, Gale made his way off of Tara (which was their boat's name, as it was labeled by the captain, Kutless, himself) and went about to do what he could to take his mind off of it all. Occasionally he would just walk about the city, along the docks. But recently, he got back into drawing. As a matter of fact, he started drawing again soon after his failed suicide attempt, as surprising as that is or not. But then again, when a Goddess comes down and sweeps you out of the water and tells you you're a good artist, it's hard not to get back into it. But that's not the only reason. For even if she hadn't told him such, drawing again would generally show his appreciation because even if it was unlikely he'll ever be as good of an artist a he once was, he still was hopeful in a sense and continued to work at it. Besides, it took his mind off of Cave and the other's for a while without him having to worry about where he was going or what he was doing, so to speak. And what better place to draw than at the Quill's Rest?

Gale found himself surprised the first few nights to find the Rest still opened at such hours, however, quickly got over it. Even if those late nights did end rather quickly and he was often nudged out so they could close. It was nice to see someone working late hours so others can have peaceful place to go that wasn't in the freezing winds, especially since not many roam around these bells.

With his pack in haul and his sketchbook in hand, the Zeltivan made his way into the Quill's Rest, eying the few people who decided this was the best place to be this fine night. One was a young woman, who happened to glance at him as well. But there wasn't much more than that, for his eyes scanned for a seat to sit at, and he limped over to one of the arm chairs with a small table in front of it. Sitting on the arm of the chair, for Gale had a habit of doing such, the blonde man sit his backpack in the seat and flipped his own sketchbook to a blank page. The charcoal in his hand already smothered across his index finger and thumb, in which he disregarded.

He sat there for a chime or two in thought, tapping the stick of mineral on his chin, leaving a small dot as he questioned what he would draw. His scribbles had been getting better, that's for sure, although the shading was still rough and straight lines were almost impossible once more. Though, he didn't wish to draw something too detailed as of now anyway. Not like the city, or complex flower. Something that could be more relaxed. Something that didn't need to be thought about too much...

Perhaps something in here? Something he could just look at and copy?

[Liana]

The part-timer circled back around to her table after a few chimes to see if she was doing alright. Her tea was nearly gone, but she nodded anyway. As the student was turning to check the other tables, Liana reached out and touched her wrist. She was a skinny girl with dark brown hair and a freckled nose. "Sorry," she breathed shyly. "But... his name?" The Konti peered around the waitress at the man who'd limped in and found a seat. The girl's eyes flicked to him and then back to her. Her narrow shoulders bobbed uncertainly. "I've seen 'im b'fore, but I canny recall a name miss. Sorry." Liana was left alone then with her curiosity. She brushed a lock of hair from her face before remembering the charcoal on her hand. A dark gray smear was left across her forehead, and she gasped when she looked at her fingers. Rubbing the spot fiercely with the back of her wrist, she did nothing but smudge the coal into her scales.

Liana's nose wrinkled in annoyance. If she wiped her clothes it would just stain them, and if she touched her hair she didn't want to imagine what that would look like. Pale skin and hair weren't so convenient all the time, and the charcoal felt funny on the scales at the top of her forehead. She leaned out of her booth and looked down the row of seats. People were absorbed in their work, reading, and conversations. "Excuse me," she whispered at the couple sitting a booth away. They didn't show any sign of hearing. "Excuse me!" she hissed a little louder, feeling her face grow hot. The woman turned and frowned at her sternly. Her eyes clearly said hush. Chastened, Liana scooted back into her booth, ears burning in annoyance and embarrassment. What was she supposed to do? Stand up and announce that she needed a washcloth because she smudged coal all over her face?

"Need help?" A voice piped up. The waitress had materialized again. Liana grinned uncertainly. "Washcloth?" she asked. The girl smiled at the smudges on her skin. "Be right back." Liana watched her go with relief. Absently, her eyes wandered over what could be considered the bar and back to the limping man perched on one of the big armchairs. His gaze was locked on her, or so it seemed, so she quickly hunkered down and looked the way the waitress had gone. The Konti picked up a sharp charcoal and drew a faint circle on her page, trying to distract herself. Out of the corner of her eye she looked again at the human. He was tapping his utensil on his chin, looking speculative. She swiped two small lines down from the circle, starting a neck. Two more; one to the left and one to the right made shoulders. The beginnings of a very bare, rough outline.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

This was always the hardest part to drawing for Gale. Previously, he had the skills to draw just about anything with some sort of decency, however, actually coming up with what he was going to draw was always a challenge. T'is is why he always drew the same things. Flowers, the city, the ocean., flowers, more flowers, person, flowers. It's all he ever drew because he couldn't decide on something. That, and that's what Hana always told him to draw. It just stuck to him, really. But now, he could hardly draw something as complex and detail oriented as a flower. A city was a bad idea since his hand was still shaking and the charcoal slipped around his two fingers, thus, he could hardly draw a straight line. The ocean required a large amount of shading and detail. Also not a good idea. He needed a single thing to practice on. Something that was simple, didn't need extensive amount of intense shading, and nothing with too many straight lines...

Gale's green eyes skimmed his immediate surroundings. Table? No, too simple. He could do the entrance. No, too many straight lines. His eyes then started to glance all around the room. He started with the door and then panned to his right, eying the others who sat in their designated chairs and did whatever they were doing. He came across the counter that the staff used to make the Kelp Tea, which Gale wasn't exactly fond off. It wasn't salty enough for him. It was rather bland and tasteless, which he wasn't a fan of. Some people like it though, which he supposed was alright. Like that Konti. She pretty much downed the whole cup in a few chimes. Similar to how he downs Kelp Beer... But he supposed she liked what she liked and he liked what he liked.

She appeared to be an artist though. The sailor noticed the charcoal she handled. She apparently got it all over her. Huh. Just like he did all the time...

The murderer stopped tapping his chin slowly as he realized he was probably getting it all over himself as well. A wrist wiped across his chin, leaving both a streak on his wrist and on his chin. Gale sighed and left it alone. Having been using charcoal for a full decade now, he knew that he wouldn't be able to get the mineral off unless he used some sort of wet cloth, which he didn't have at the moment. But that didn't matter. It wasn't a big deal anywhow.

The artist went back to thinking of what to draw. His mind raced through options he drew before, but none of them fit what he was looking for. He even flipped through his sketchbook a few times to see if anything fit the requirements. But alas, none did. The man was reduced to using his pure imagination. Shouldn't be too hard for an artist right?

Gale continued to tap the charcoal against his chin some more, looking at the ground thoughtfully. Visually, he drew sketch after sketch in his mind but only ended up crumbling it up and throwing it away for the design was too complicated. Trees, no. Clouds? No. How about an animal, Gale. Would an animal be too complicated? "Well, if I didn't go in depth with the fur..." Hm... That could work. But what animal? Not a cat. Definitely not a dog. No horses. A fish would be too complicated. A rat? That's the simplest animal he could think off. But... a rat?

Gale sighed and glanced around the room again, his eyes bringing him to the Konti once more. She just finished cleaning off her face with a washcloth that someone gave her. Though, his gaze didn't last long, for she look in his direction, and eye contact was made for a tick. The blonde promptly turned his head back to his sketchbookbook.

Gale stopped tapping the charcoal on his chin and went to flip the utensil around his ring finger and bring it back around into his typical drawing position. However, this was just a habit. With the missing ring finger, the charcoal had nothing to loop around, and thus, fell to the floor instead of returning into a writing position. The man gasped in realization as it began to fall and in response, reached to grab it out of the air. It hit the side of his hand, flying up and to his right. He scrambled for it again, it once again hitting his hand, but this time plummeting to the floor. However, to any observe, it looked more like frantic swatting in the air. After the Charcoal hit the ground, the Zeltivan looked around the room to see who was watching. It appeared that most were distracted. Gale quickly scooted off the arm of the chair and knelt down to pick up the charcoal.

[Liana]

The shape of all men was rather general. At first, she only had to glance occasionally at him to keep it in her mind. They had straighter lines and sharper angles than soft-edged, round women. Jaws were more defined and chins were squarer. Heavier brows, boxy shoulders, and thicker limbs. Of course there were the cases of fragile men; slender and more streamlined than what she was used to seeing. Mostly it was Akalaks on Mura and the Svefras who visited to trade or rest. Everyone was different. It was just easier this way. Her charcoal scratched carefully across the paper, leaving only faint lines that could easily be erased or drawn back over with a heavier stroke or later shading. Mistakes weren't catastrophic if she was careful like so at first. Liana added a light circle for each shoulder, where lines could follow along around the joint and into a pair of arms. She likely wouldn't go any lower than there. Her sketches often held detail in the face and drew emphasis to certain features then faded into a faint gesture drawing.

She paused momentarily in her scribbling when the waitress dropped off a warm, wet rag and disappeared again to help the other patrons. Liana carefully wiped the coal from her forehead, gently cleaning what she could from between delicate scales then setting the damp cloth aside for later. She didn't trust herself not to make any more messes. When her eyes found the hobbling man again, he was looking at her. It was only for a moment and then he looked away. She blushed self-consciously. Perhaps he'd seen her spying and staring. Quickly, Liana hunched over her drawing. A curtain of hair tumbled over her shoulders and spilled onto the table on either side of the book. On the circle that designated his head, the Konti carefully sketched out a chin and defined a jaw. A faint crescent marked where an ear would be, and gave her an indication of where eyes and a nose should go.

A small clatter made her turn as she started to place guides where his eyebrows would be. Her model was having a bit of trouble. She watched with growing interest as he reached for his dropped charcoal, then turned completely in her seat when she noticed his mangled hand. How was he drawing like that? Unable to fight her rising curiosity, Liana clumsily gathered her things in her arms and stood. Pack in one arm and open sketchbook in the other, she crossed the room. When he stood, she stopped and hesitated, feeling like an oaf. A long, soft "Uhm..." was all the Konti managed at first. After an awkward pause, she found her voice. Liana spoke carefully, though the Common tongue came a little easier than it had before. She was still fighting a losing battle against a thick accent, but she was more confident in the structure of each sentence.

"Have been drawing. Mind if...," she paused, trying to think of a word. "Mind if accompany? Sit closer, to see?" Feeling like she needed to justify herself, she dropped her backpack and held the book for him to see the rough beginnings of the portrait. He wasn't much taller than she was, she realized, and thinner up close. Maybe he was homeless.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

Picking up something you dropped was one thing. Picking up something you dropped with the feeling someone was watching you was another. Picking up something you dropped with the feeling someone was standing over you was yet another thing.

Gale swiftly snatched the piece of charcoal off the ground and turned quickly to return to his seat. He stood up, but as he did so, his eyes followed a delicate line that made up the curves and body structure of a young Konti woman until his eyes met hers. The blue in her eyes shocked the forest green in his and he promptly took a step back so he did not crowd her. The event, however brief, made the man's cheeks flush to a light pink. The reason why was simple. At least to him. He could only hope that she didn't notice the trail his eyes followed, for it was unintentional and didn't mean anything. But what else are you suppose to look at when someone was standing right next to you while you stood up?

Although Gale fumbled a short hum, the overreaction in which one may consider so, diminished quickly and instead, he offered a soft grin and tucked the charcoal piece into his fist. This was no accident, anyhow, for the man had thoroughly been trying to act less like a clutz lately. Though, the smudges didn't help with the matter. The most noticeable one being the one on his chin, but his hands where no better, for he hardly started drawing yet and they appeared as if he was handling coal. Nevertheless, the Zeltivan found comfort in the fact that she looked just as sill as he did. Well, maybe not as silly but still just as nervous. After all, it wasn't everyday that someone at the Quill's Rest decided to just walk over to another for whatever reason. It was as if that when one sat down, they were in an office, and anyone who violated that space would be punished with devastating glares. Gale learned that the hard way. Then again, he supposed it depended on the person, for that woman in particular had a temper on her. Who got mad at someone for adding birds in a picture? Only a tattoo artist, right?

The woman appeared to be overcoming her nervousness and spoke a few sentences in which Gale had to take a moment to understand. The lack of I in the phrases and the heavy accent wasn't something Gale was particularly use to, but once he filled in the blanks, he didn't hesitate to respond as if he has solved some sort of riddle,"Oh! Yes, of course!" His baritone voice was probably louder than he had liked, given the peaceful nature of the Rest, but if someone wanted to glare at him then so be it.

After saying such, the artist took a seat himself then gestured to the chair across from him for her to sit. But of course, Gale once again only sat on the arm of the chair. Silly habits. But instead of correcting himself and actually using the seat for what it was intended for, his mind pondered the stranger's accent. He didn't hear it often, then again, he managed to miss many of the Konti woman who visited the city, and the ones he met learned to speak common without their native tongue influencing their speech. It wasn't a bad thing though, to have an accent. Gale rather liked it. Sometimes he forgot about all the diversity in the world. Other races and accents always helped remind him. Bird had an accent, though she was a Vantha and her accent was quite different. He could only image how ridiculous he must sound trying to learn her language with 'his accent'. Though it was strange to even think that he had an accent. Like, do people who use Common have accents? Or was it considered normal? It was weird to think about it that way.

Gale opened his sketchbook again and adjusted the charcoal in his hand back to his natural drawing position. However, he didn't start drawing yet, for he still had no subject. He watched at the Konti, hopefully, sat down. He eyed the sketchbook in her arms, noticing the page had an outline already drawn. He couldn't see what it was, but it didn't matter. It was her drawing. Nonetheless, the curiosity was still there. Sit closer to see.... what? Was she drawing him? He doubted she was drawing the table.