Summer 20, 512AV
Warm sunrays filtered through the high window in her room to dapple on her skin. Sunlight slipped under the thin pink flesh of eyelids to rouse the woman who slept in a humble bed. Ariadne woke, feeling the cool air kiss uncovered skin, the sensation at once sending a chill through her delicate body and goose bumps rose to pebble exposed flesh. Ariadne covered herself with her blanket, intending to return to the comforting solitude that sleep offered. Unfortunately the sun was doing its best to see that desire wither. No matter how much she tried to find refuge in the blankets and under pillows, the sunlight saw it fit to invade even those paltry defenses. Ariadne stayed in bed for a little while longer, enjoying the warmth her body lent the mattress during the night.
Sadly, life could not be spent in the embrace of her bed, and so Ariadne sat herself up, the blanket sliding off to unveil her nudity. She swung muscular legs to the floor, greeted by the cold wood under bare feet, and stood. She strolled across her small room, paying no heed to the goose bumps that rose now that she was away from her bed. The best way to adjust to something was to plunge head-first into it.
Ariadne caught her reflection in a standing mirror and stopped to inspect herself. Appearances were very important to her, especially her own. They were essential for her work and her daily life. Her face was smooth, open and innocent – a sweet disposition that hid the deeper currents beneath the surface. Sunlight set her silhouette on fire, lighting the soft valleys and mountains of her body in the morning glow, her normally brown hair resonating with deep shades of red. Ariadne turned to face the mirror, her head tilted to the side. She lifted her hair and studied the hour-glass figure and face reflecting back at her. A little on the skinny side, as food was not always a guarantee in her line of work, she was petite. She wasn’t emaciated, but she certainly lacked the pleasantly plump physic of those more well off than she. Her perky breasts were average size, the pink tips hard from the abrupt exposure to the cold. Down her body goose pimples rose over rib bones and a flat stomach lined with muscle to the swell of her hip. Her legs and arms were slender as well, finely boned and muscular. Even with her eyes laden with sleep Ariadne had a pretty morning face; fresh, soft and pure.
Alas, she was certainly still tired. Ariadne yawned and stretched, using one hand to cover her mouth as the other stretched above her head. The motion did interesting things to her body. She left the mirror, her reflection disappearing as she walked the rest of the way to the table with a basin and pitcher of water. Ah, her morning routine. Brush teeth, washing her body, hair and face (though not necessarily in that order) toweled dried her hair and brushed it out before dressing in her red blouse and dark pants. After that she acquired her cosmetic set and started to apply some make-up; nothing extravagant, just a little kohl for the eyes and pink for her lips. When she was finished with that she gave herself a once over in the mirror, critical eyes tucking an errant strand of hair back or fixing her make-up. Once Ariadne was satisfied with her appearance she left her home.
The bridges connected all of Ravok together like thousands of veins leading to the heart – the center of Ravok. And at the center of there was the Temple of the Black Sun, the true heart of Ravok and mortal resting place for Rhysol and his celestial feet. Though the truth was the Temple was a shell of what it used to be. But what was a storm-beaten temple compared to coffee? And so Ariadne navigated the bridges and walkways to the Noble District, where the Studio of Yae Varcone resided, the only place in Ravok that served coffee. And right now Ariadne was very, very interested in coffee.
On one of the bridges Ariadne saw a Ravosala gliding on the canal water, ushered by one of the navigators with a long pole. Inside was a couple of roughly middle-age, the man with his arm around the woman’s shoulder. And though they sat close together Ariadne sensed distance between them. They spoke in quiet voices, and as they drew closer the man looked up to Ariadne. She didn’t look away, as perhaps a maiden would have caught looking on a man clearly with his woman. Instead she lifted a slender hand and wiggled her fingers slowly, a flirtatious smile on her lips. The woman caught her husband staring at Ariadne and flushed in rage. They glided under the bridge and out of sight, though Ariadne heard their muffled voices as they argued rising up from under the bridge. Ariadne laughed softly and commenced walking. She hummed softly to herself before she started singing out of tune;
“There’s a sweet young girl, with bold black locks,
and eyes so bright and pretty good rack;
she’s a knife in her fist and it’s in your back
in ol’ Rhysol’s Ravok!"
Well, at least she was pretty.
Ariadne came upon the Studio quickly, the aroma of coffee practically lifting the thief off her feet. She opened the door to the well maintained building and stepped in. The smell of coffee mingled with the freshly baked pastries that Yae cooked daily. Ariadne inhaled through her nose deeply before walking in fully. She waited to be served. |
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by Ariadne on August 9th, 2012, 2:05 am 