Closed [The Quill's Rest] Learning of the city for its worth

[Fallon]

Whatever noise had been playing in the background had come to a stop, giving Fallon a momentary pause in her thought. If anything it allowed her a moment of reflection of what had occurred and what was occurring, the change of expression, the almost returned pause in surprise to the reaction. Or perhaps it was one spurred by confusion over something - perhaps she did indeed attempt to do something fake. Her lips were licked, the orbs focusing as the expression fell and perhaps a glimmer of what was beneath was revealed. She watched the lips open and her own in response broke into a slither of white, her voice a purr, "Think before you speak. Else, I shall give you a shovel in which to dig your hole."

Her orbs peeled back and away to her own tea, her other hand running along the edge of the notes she had written already. Was something missing? Probably. She gave a blink, pausing as she considered what she could add to it. But the woman beside her seemed to be in her own pondering, the expression becoming one of neutrality - a reset of things as she attempted to build up a persona once more. Did she have the woman on the defensive? Possibly, the way the face distorted to her comment to reveal the void beneath. Fallon's eyes looked, locked, and stared into what she could only call a void. Within the cool energy gave a swirl, the chill clawing up from her stomach into her throat and lacing across her tongue. Sensation, her ears twitched to the sigh and the low whisper as she began her movements to change, "Sarcasm, lowest form of wit. Or a lie. Or both. Either way is there not an element of truth hidden in both. Perhaps, maybe," she shrugged and looked down to the still steaming cup, "Though, I don't feel you did. Your expression says otherwise."

That tone however caused another twitch, that level of disinterest hovering there. She sounded bored, and unamused - as if asking simply because it was the polite thing to do. Then why ask to begin with? Fallon's lips pulled upwards into a wolfish grin, her orbs glinting before she let it all fall away into a calmed face and returned to her tea.
"You don't sound as if you want to know," she took a slurp from it with one hand and took up the quill with the other, "Nor, do you look particularly like you wish to do anything. Almost as if you are fishing for reasons and faces to put on. Looking for the next lie to impersonate. Or perhaps, an excuse to lie to yourself - to not be what you are but someone else for a little while." Her lips gave a small curl, "Much like an actor upon a stage, except this has no rehearsals and the performance goes on for a lot longer. Besides," she dipped the quill in the ink, "If I tell you, how will you learn? You'll hear and you'll forget. Now let's see..."

Among the classes of Zeltiva, it is believed East Street holds a majority of the lower class and the more criminal minded sort - thieves being the main consistency. Whether or not a gang culture exists there at all, or an underbelly of sorts dwells there would need to be looked into. Fallon lifted the quill from the page and gave an approving nod, On the other end of the scale is those who reside in the Ancient Quarter, Zeltiva's upper class. Whether or not similar traits exist there will also have to be taken into account - but with care due to more power being wielded.

[Felicity]

Tapping the side of her cup Felicity tilted her head, raising one eyebrow in what she thought must be an inquisitive or questioning expression, "I wasn't being sarcastic, or did not think I was. Sometimes it is difficult to tell."

She talked a lot, this what what Felicity was coming to realize. Lots of words that, to her simple mindset, made no real sense. Like filler in a story, spoken just for the act of speaking. Thats what Felicity thought at least as she stared openly at the paper as further notes were taken.

"I don't?" came the response to the observed disinterest in her tone, a fact that had actually escaped her notice. It was rare that Felicity gave two thoughts to what actually came out of her mouth. After all once it drifted in the air there was nothing to do about it anyway, and it was boring to think about everything carefully instead of simply saying it as the thoughts came. Even so the observations made about her own character were not entirely wrong, and held perhaps more truth in their meaning that Felicty realized. Just as with everything else she never thought about any of it. That took far too much time and energy.

Remaining quiet while Fallon continued to write Felicity contemplated for her self what was said. It seemed a simple enough question to her, if something she did gave away her little game of pretend, yet this woman seemed intent on not giving a straight answer. Felicity did want to know, and if this person would not tell her how could she ever improve? You can't improve on something you do not realize you need to work on... right?

But she was too engrossed in her writing, a fact was a tad irksome as Felicity really did want an answer. Glancing at the woman's tea cup the Illusion of the metallic taste was quickly removed, freeing up the trickster's imagination for something perhaps slightly more fun. Breathing in, and then out slowly in the direction of Fallon and her work, Felicity pulled an image to her mind as the warmth radiated from the mark on the back of her neck. Then, the characters on the page that Fallon was working on would begin to wriggle as Felicity stared at them, before fading and disappearing.

A smile on her face Felicity would rest her chin on her propped arm once more, "How can I learn from my mistakes if no one points them out to me? If I am nothing but an actress on a stage then I must better myself in my craft if I am to survive in this world full of wolves."

[Fallon]

Fallon continued her note making, silent as she scrawled out the script. She paused briefly to flex the muscles in her hand, the twinge of discomfort resting there as she leaned back. Whatever was going through the mind of the other was beyond her, but the long moment of quiet, paired up with the attempted placing of masks into one of an expression.

Fallon paused when the words gave a move, the fingers of her free hand moving to rub at her eyes. Was she becoming tired? Was she not feeling well? The Lykata gave a prickle, a gentle nudge almost against her mind before she simply shook her head. Attention seeking perhaps? Or looking for a mirror in which reactions to actions would be made, a basis in which to build upon.

"To begin with, not everyone is a wolf. If you must summarise people, I would more akin them as a whole as sheep; travelling in a heard, following each other, and placing down their boundaries for their own safety in the forms of city. A simple, straight forward life with the basis on flock survival. Occasionally, a sheep may drift from one flock and end up in another, or be forcibly taken by the natures outside their pastures," Fallon lowered her quill, her fingers moving to smooth out the pages, "And occasionally, things from the outside come in wearing the skins of sheep. A wolf in sheep's clothing." With a side glance to the smile on the woman's face Fallon sighed, "I would akin you to a cat. Prowling about and looking for a sly way in to a situation and to milk it for all its worth."

She gave another blink at the page, feeling the bubble of annoyance rest there as letters began to fade and flicker. And all the while, the nudging of Lykata pressed against her skull, growing ever uncomfortable as it continued. Where was it? Was it there? It should have been. Hidden behind a veil of illusions and trickery. The light? A thin canvas? She did not remember such being pulled across her page. Think, was it the same source? The same fake display? The fingertips ran across the surface of the page, eyes coming to a narrow as she felt the subtle bumps and dips within the surface, the faint sticky feeling of drying ink caress across the tips of the digits.

The inspector withdrew them and released a hum, "Learning from mistakes is from self-reflection. What did you do? Break it down into sections, repeat them in your head and compare them to previous times and conversations. What is different than before? What did work then in contrast to now?" Taking up the cup she blew over the rim of it, "And if you are the actress upon the world stage, surely you know the one basic rule. Rehearse your lines until you know can speak them in your sleep." She took a sip and sighed, "It's one thing to simply act, while another to be."

[Felicity]

It seemed that, at last, Felicity was able to elicit a reaction out of this strangely composed woman. It was something like a triumph or a victory, yet somehow muddled by something that Felicity could not quite put her finger on. Most people seemed mystified, or angered, or annoyed when something completely unexpected and unexplained happened. It was only natural after all, for everyone knew and expected things to work out exactly like they think they should. Any deviation from the path or the proper form was clearly unthinkable... thus when it happened a person was completely taken off guard and left to flounder in uncertainty. After all what did you do when you expected to taste tea and instead got the metallic tang of blood? What was there to do when the words you had just written simply vanished from the page? Nothing. It was not explainable, it couldn't be comprehended as it should not happen at all.

Then why did this woman not show any signs for being perturbed? Why despite seeing the impossible right in front of her eyes did she not show the shock and confusion that Felicity had come to expect? Was she someone unnatural after all? More than anything though was the calm, methodical way in which she seemed to handle each unusual situation. What gave her the idea to feel if the ink was there? It puzzled Felicity, and annoyed her as well. This person should be the one who is uncertain, not her.

"I see..." The words slid out with a cool tone as Felicity continued to stare with unabashed intensity, "I do not know if I like cats."

What was with her? Even when she reacted it was not what Felicity wanted. That, then, gave her pause. How much did she actually desire to tilt this woman and put her off balance? More than the broken doll realized at first. Because, right here before Felicity, was someone who defied what SHE expected. That had never happened before. No one could understand what she did, or who she was. No one could question her or tell her what was and was not. Felicity was just a hollow doll whose face and actions reflected what the situation called for, but this person seemed to crack that aspect of her and exposed the empty void within. If her acts and tricks did not work on this person, then Felicity did not know what to do. That was what brought a very real, and very strong, feeling of annoyed frustration to her cold heart.

"It's one thing to simply act, while another to be?" The quite repeated, but this time Felicity wasn't smiling. "You're right, but that should be obvious. A person puts on an act because they can't 'be' whatever it is they wish to be on their own. So, if you are always acting doesn't that mean that no matter what you will never 'be' whatever it is you are pretending to be?"

Felicity didn't like where this was going. This woman had no way of knowing how much what she said affected Felicity, but deep deep down something cracked ever so slightly.

Looking away Felicity stared down at her still steaming mug but did not drink. Instead a finger played over the rim, lightly dipping into the hot liquid to cause small ripples to cycle outward, "If I learn to 'self reflect', what do you think would happen? Would I be able to be anything or anyone I wanted?"

[Fallon]

Fallon gave another sip of her tea, her gaze slipping across the room to the other patrons. It was calm, quiet, the others largely minding their own business. Studying or otherwise, they continued with whatever it was they were focusing on - while the woman next to her continued her rather pointed staring. Perhaps she was still trying to work out what the inspector meant earlier. Or, maybe it was a cold logic attempting to dissect and find weakness in her ego, exploit and use to the others advantage. The fingers of her right gave a twitch, gently flexing and stretching out the tendons. The small muscles in the palm creased and continued to do so even as she lowered her cup. It was with a smirk that she looked down into the half full drink, "I suppose such things comes down to whether or not you view them as a pest and annoyance, as something you are indifferent to in view, or see them as bundles to stroke and pet."

Tracing her finger around the rim of the cup she looked back into the depth, maintaining the small curl of lips and feeling the sensation of warmth rest there. Calming, relaxing, it let the mind clear from what bothered it and focus on what was at hand. Her gaze still looked down to the contents and then down to her note book. It was with a sigh that she promptly closed it, smoothing out the cover before inevitably tucking into her belt pouch. She sealed up the ink vial, the damp quill nib being wiped on the back of her glove as she packed her writing tools away - there was no point trying to write if something was constantly trying to grab her attention.

"Should be obvious, but many people still miss it or overlook it. Perhaps because it is so," Fallon hummed, "Essentially. You can act, disguise and persuade people that you are what you are trying to be - but you'll never truly be something that you are not. I could wear a suit, change my accent, change my name and cover myself in riches - but I would never be anything other than an imposter trying to play a aristocrat. Or, I could put on hides but never be an animal I am clothed in." Drinking, she turned her gaze to the woman next to her, the brow pinching slightly as she thought through her words. Silence, thinking, choosing them carefully.

"I am not you, and I have no answer for what would happen, nor if you would achieve being anything you wanted. However, before you can be anything you must firstly be something. And that something is yourself," she drained the cup, "No one is ever truly nothing. Everyone comes from somewhere. We are all made up from flesh, blood and bones. We exist, some subtly, others in clear view and others creating smoke and mirrors." There was another pause as she contemplated another cup. More tea, did she want more? Or did she want to move on to elsewhere for different sustenance? "And should you wish to be something more, then one must put effort into achieving that. Work the skill and talents to be the part."