Closed Change is a Good Thing (I'saya)

[Pulren Marsh]

21st of Summer, AV 514

West Street

Pulren stood outside the Boot Boutique, having spent a good bell inside being fitted for a new pair of high boots. They felt good on his feet, his toes wiggling about in them. He had worn the same ratty pair for so long that the shop didn't want to use them for scrap, even. It was fairly embarrassing, which would probably make for the theme of the day. Having no other clothes than the fishing rags he had worn to their last threads, the Zeltivan had decided to spend some of the money he had been saving on a fresh outfit and some other items before beginning his adventure to Sunberth.

The denizens and shopkeepers of West Street could tell that he was just a Wave Guard with some extra money, not meant for their regular fare. He knew though that they all eventually needed to take a ship and they didn't want to be accosted by the Kelp Bar crowd, so as paltry as his station was, it afforded him at least common civility. He wasn't really on duty, having no trident or shield in hands, but his simple wave pin remained affixed on his blue tunic. Not wanting to wear the swab trash rags he had, he had chosen his moderate uniform until new clothes could be had.

As Pulren walked hesitantly among the many shops, something caught his eye. The long and striking crimson tresses of a young girl. Her own clothing seemed to fit the people of West Street, but there was some other quality about her that did not make her seem like one of their number. She actually made the West Street people look shabby, in his own opinion. He found her attractive, but it was something else that had caught him and he couldn't put his finger on it. One thing was for sure, she probably had a better clue about fashion than he did, so swallowing a small bit of anxiety, he approached her.

"Hey there. You don't look like you are from here. Are you visiting the city?"He immediately caught himself and chuckled, shaking his head at his own line. He had heard it before from the callers of Loveless and now he was saying it to someone who would never step foot into a place like that. "Sorry. I was just caught by some quality of yours. Anyway, my name is Pulren Marsh. Do you think you could help me with some shopping? I don't have a clue what I'm doing and they probably know it." His hand extended out in friendship.

[I'saya Tuvalik]

Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable. A wardrobe malfunction was one thing, but permanently crippling one's selection in performance attire and doing absolutely nothing to repair such a horrid violation of a personal code was beginning to gnaw at the consciousness of the Azenth firedancer. Two corsets. Having only three to work with was bad enough, for it provided very little variety, but two. Two?!

It was blasphemy.

Realization of this fact was immediate, but a mixture of public humiliation and personal pride had come in the way of the firedancer's instinct to purchase an additional (at the very least) outfit to supplement her two existing performance outfits. Skirted corsets were her signature, but she was beginning to believe that sticking to such a uniform was perhaps crippling to her image, as well. The Tuvalik needed to expand, but moreover, she needed to revel in this expansion.

Ivak's mission for the youngest of the Tuvalik family resonated strongly in her heart. The ambition behind the purpose struck an even stronger chord. She wanted not to be compensated with wealth, though monetary gain was appreciated. What I'saya Tuvalik wanted, more than anything, was recognition.

She wanted the name 'Tuvalik' to etch itself into the hearts of the world outside of the boundaries of Kalea, for the Tuvalik bloodline was one of Ivak's favoured. Her blood was, as far as I'saya herself was concerned, of noble bearing. Not due to some self-righteousness or personal pride in her ancestry, but because Ivak himself deemed the Tuvalik, the Dancers, worthy of consistently bearing his mark.

And to be TRUE to my name as Tuvalik, I NEED new clothes!

The points, obviously, went together. They led to the logical conclusion that was shopping. And it was that conclusion that led the Tuvalik towards West Street. Upon her right hip, a sack of mizas clinked and jingled against cotton fabric that clung to the skin. Breeches that extended to just past the knee adorned her form, her feet laid into dancing shoes (which were, admittedly, beginning to show signs of wear). Her upper body was enclosed within a tunic, tied behind her back to be form-fitting. Intent was always to ensure that her range of motion was maximized and that movements were not hampered by loose or otherwise cumbersome folds of clothing. It was not optimal, but the Azenth decided that it had been adequate.

For now.

Outfits will change with time! For now, I just need more performance attire, right? Right!

The Tuvalik spent several chimes with her gaze cast about. The search commenced within West Street as she internally debated which store to visit first. The Boot Boutique held an appeal. A new pair of dancing shoes would be useful. But, Gadderjack and Bon! Or... the hosiery! All held their appeal in distinct ways, and just as the Azenth was about to throw her arms up in frustration, she was called out by a young man. His greeting was rather curt, followed up by a quick question, then a request. I'saya would have been surprised if she had the time to be, but he spoke quickly and moved through topics and into requests faster than she could have bearings for. She simply smiled for a moment before extending her hand to take his.

"You're right, Pulren! I'm from a very far away place. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

An easy smile parted her lips before she introduced herself,

"I'm I'saya Tuvalik. You want me to help you shop for clothes? Okay! But you can't complain!"

The smile extended to a grin before she took his hand and led Pulren into Gadderjack and Bon to begin.
.

[Pulren Marsh]

The hand taken, Pulren squeezed it with a firm but friendly grip and released, grinning and nodding to his new companion. "I'saya Tuvalik. A pleasure." Her very presence was a pleasure to the senses and it immediately filled him with fresh blood. She seemed to waste no time in her leading, which Pulren appreciated, letting her take over, since he really had no clue. Her hand had his again, however, and the blood continued to pump through his veins, renewed.

As they entered the ultra fine establishment of Gadderjack, Gadderjack and Bon, the lighting seemed sublime and the air smelled of a sweet fragrance that Pulren certainly never smelled in his part of town. It was about as far away from his part of town as a place could be, while still remaining in the same town. "Where is your very far away place, I'saya? I am always into learning about other places. I'm about to take a journey in a few days, myself." Saying those words felt good and a rush passed through him, his skin begging to be free of the tired uniform and flourish under more elegant fabrics. Pulren planned to reinvent himself when he went to Sunberth, leaving Pulren the fishmonger's nephew behind. Pulren the Wave Guard behind. Pulren behind.

While he watched her gracefully walk among the tailors and their fares, he was glad that he had met her already, regardless of their common temperaments. She was alive. It was as clear as the price tags in the West Street establishment.