[Flashback]Spiders and Sunberthans(Tock)

[Volinir Orchid]

He laughed at that, throwing his head back and spattering the seat behind him with liquor. This woman couldn't be real. She flipped tables, waded through brawling bodies and came out almost unscathed, and she did it because she gave a damn? Petch him, how did he find the only real human being in all of Ravok? "If only everyone thought the same as you... The most just about everyone here sees me as is a sideshow attraction, or worse." Volinir said ruefully, curling his hand into a fist and bringing it up to his chin level to display the tattoo that denoted his status as a slave.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Tock snorted, smirked, and said, "Mate, ain't nobody what thinks the same as me, aye?" Part of the reason she'd left Sunberth was because no one there viewed magic the way she did: as a wonder, instead of something to be hated and feared. In all of her travels, she had never found anyone who shared quite her same views on things. Some might see magic the same way, but have different views on morality or politics. She was unique, and she bloody well knew it. She barely glanced at his tattoo, unaware of its significance. She hadn't been in Ravok long enough to know all their customs, or the meaning of such marks. Other cities didn't mark slaves in quite the same way, and there was no universal sign she knew of that shouted 'slave,' unless the person was in chains. Thus she remained completely ignorant of his status, and took the tattoo simply for a decoration, albeit an ugly one. "Floaty-town's a bitch though, aye?" she said, glancing st he buildings as they passed. She trailed her fingers in the water, enjoying the coolness of it. "Nice boats though," she added. After being bruised up, it was nice to be able to sit and ride like this. It gave her a chance for some of the soreness in her ribs to fade. She'd be feeling that one for a few days, at least, but it helped that she could sit and relax for now.

[Volinir Orchid]

Volinir smiled and nodded, "A fellow freak, huh?" Tock's apparent disregard for his status only raised his opinion of her. When she mentioned the boats, his smile faded. "Aye... It's pretty enough, if it weren't for the way the petchers treat people like me. We're nothing but mizas to them. Azo." he chuckled bitterly. For the longest time, he'd seen other races as little more than vessels to save Symenestra women from a grisly death by childbirth, or as people in their own right, but... Less, somehow. Here the roles were radically reversed. As such, what might have gotten her selected as a perfect candidate for a harvest four years ago earned her almost instant affection now. There was no hierarchy at the bottom. Volinir beamed at the miracle girl, his abnormally large pupils quite obvious now. "What's your name, miss?" If nothing else, he might be able to get some mizas sent her way. Hopefully. Possibly. If there was another miracle.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

"Freak?" Tock asked, giving a snort. "Bloke, ya done spend too much time listenin' ta wankers! Ain't no freak, no nothin', no 'ow..." She shook her head, frowning at the thought. So what if he was kind of funny looking? Nothing wrong with that. Of course, she didn't find him the least bit attractive. The weird looking eyes and pale skin were quite the turn off. But as long as he wasn't hitting on her, none of that mattered. "If'n ya dun like 'ow fer 'ey treats, ya, dun put up wit' it!" Tock declared. "If'n ya ain't likes 'em, leave. If'n 'ey tries not ta letcha, kick some arse! Weren't fer nobody what should ever tells ya what for 'bout nothin'!" she pointed a finger at him, looking him dead in the eye. She had lived the first seventeen years of her life in fear, abused by her father, assaulted any time she went out at night. She had lived a life without meaning, being used, having no hope, and letting people walk all over her. Then one day, she had decided, enough was enough! She hadn't taken crap from anyone since then. Ever. "Ain't no 'Miss,'" she told him. "Jus' 'Tock'. Nice ta meetcha!" She gave him a grin, then glanced up as a dock neared. She gestured the driver towards it and told the driver, "'At one's good..." She had no idea where they were, but it was far enough from the bar not to matter. The boat clanked against the side of the docks as the driver moved them in place, water sloshing about from the motion. Tock paid the driver his fee, then slowly stood up, wobbling a bit in the bobbing boat before climbing up onto the damp wooden docks. She headed up to the walkway, glancing around, without a clue where she was. She planted her fists on her hips, considering what to do next. She still hadn't gotten the drink she wanted. She turned to the stranger and asked him, "Buy a girl a drink what fer savin' yer arse?" She winked at him and chuckled. Maybe a few drinks would help numb the pain in her sore jaw. She touched the skin again, wincing slightly. A decent sized bruise was forming on the side of her face, across her cheek and down her jawline. She lifted her shirt a bit to look at her ribs, and saw another there. She sighed, deciding that, yes, a drink was definitely in order. "No brawlin' 'is time, though, aye?"

[Volinir Orchid]

"I agree with you on the freak part, but it's not that simple," he said sadly, "The only way out of Ravok is by boat, and no one lets a slave ride alone. As for kicking arse... It becomes much more difficult when your allies number one wonderful redhead, and a stray cat." He wasn't trying to get anything out of her; indeed, anything of the sort didn't even register in his mind. He was just stating what he saw as a fact. The Symenestra smiled softly and bowed his head slightly. "Volinir, and the pleasure is all mine." He rocked slightly when the boat docked, and clambered out with little difficulty. Learning to get on and off the boats was one of the first things he learned. He looked up at her when she asked him to buy her a drink, and his smile broadened, causing him to unwittingly bare his slightly bloodied teeth. "Tock, for what you did, you deserve your own bar. Since you're deprived of that, though... There's an inn not too far from here. Little cheaper, but I suppose that's... better..." Volinir trailed off, a bit of color running into his face. It wasn't that he wasn't used to form fitting clothes, but he wasn't quite prepared for a display of skin, even a minor one. He quickly shook his head like a horse bothered by flies, and dabbed at his brow a little. The blood from the cut the boot made had coagulated for the most part, but it was still more than a little sore. He shrugged, and the smile came back. "I'll do my best." Volinir retorted wryly, punching her lightly on the arm. He beckoned her to follow him as he started down the ambling streets and alleyways, occasionally cutting between a couple houses or passing behind a shop. Running errands had left him with a rather thorough understanding of what was where.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

"Slave?" she asked in confusion, looking around. "Huh?" She didn't see any chains on him, and didn't get how he could be a slave if he was just walking around out in the open like this. Maybe things worked differently here... She shrugged it off, following him to the inn. Her mind was focused on getting a drink. As soon as they arrived, she slipped right up to the bar and sat down. Her ribs were still aching, and the movement even from the relatively short walk had left her sore. She leaned against the bar on her elbows, and asked the bartender for a tall one. After he poured the drink, she took a long swig of it, then held the mug against her cheek, hoping the cool liquid would help soothe the painful bruise. She glanced around the room, and saw it mostly empty. Not many patrons, and none of them looking their way. Far less likely that they'd have trouble here. She let out a sigh and said, "Well, mate, 'ere's ta stickin' it ta 'em, eh?" She raised her mug and took another drink, wincing a bit as the liquid irritated the cut inside her mouth. The ale mostly drowned out the taste of blood, however, and she was sure once she had two or three of these in her, she'd forget about the wound entirely.

[Volinir Orchid]

Volinir nodded. "Didn't you see the tattoo? It means I'm property," he said derisively, "You caught me during my hour of free time." The Symenstra fell silent, and stayed silent until they reached the inn. The bartender didn't even ask Volinir what he was having, just slid him a mug of ale with a small nod. He smiled warmly at Tock and clinked his glass against hers before taking a swig. "Cheers. I'll probably get a thrashing for this, but..." he took another swig. "You know what? Petch it," he took another swig. "These bastards have had it coming to them for far too long." Volinir drained the mug and set it down with a quiet thud, the bartender refilling it after getting to just about every other customer. There were no jeering remarks here, and with the first friendly contact in ages and two mugs of ale in his belly, Volinir was actually starting to enjoy himself. The fire in his ribs was dying down, and his brow wasn't stinging any more. He swung his third glass in the air and chirped, "Here's to you Tock, the only decent person in this cesspool." After a long drought, he asked curiously, "Why did you come to Ravok, anyways?"

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Tock thought about the mark for a moment, and the way the man declared himself 'property,' but then she just shrugged it off. He wasn't chained, and the way she saw it, if he didn't want to be a slave, he could just run away. Or kill his masters. Or whatever it took. Tock had taken her life into her hands some years ago, and never looked back. There was no reason this man couldn't do the same, unless he just didn't have the balls. And if that was the case, well, it was his own problem. Tock would take down a bully, but she wouldn't save a man from his own damn weaknesses. She down her own ale and got another mug, starting to feel the slightest beginnings of a buzz, but it wasn't nearly enough yet. After a brawl like they'd had today, she needed to get nice and stonkered. "Jus' left Syliras," she told him. "Gots thrown out on my bloody arse! 'Is were the closest place," she shrugged. "Figgered, give 'er a looksee, see what if'n I likes 'er..." She made a face and shrugged again. So far, other than the architecture, she wasn't particularly fond of this city. "Bloke I done met told me what 'bout some Uni down in Zeltiva. Thinkin' what I might check 'at out..." She hadn't decided yet, and didn't want to commit to a two season long travel plan until she was sure. But the idea of getting some good schooling sounded right good to her.

[Volinir Orchid]

Volinir chuckled. "You, get thrown out of Syliras?" he shrugged, "Guess the people there are just as uptight about flipped tables as they are here." The Ebonstryfe and crime had an... Interesting relationship. It wasn't so much what you did as it was to whom. Robbing a Nitrozian would likely end in one floating face down in lake Ravok, but mugging a non-human would get one little more than a slap on the wrist, if that. When she mentioned Zeltiva, he took a sip of his ale and smiled playfully. "Don't you dare pack off without me! I bet..." he frowned thoughtfully, and muttered quietly to her, "I bet you could pass off as my master if you bought some nice clothes or some shyke like that to make you look richer. We could just board a ship and go." Perhaps it was the liquid courage in his stomach, or Tock's aggression that had got him thinking. The only reason he hadn't run for the hills already was that, well... There were no hills. Just water. If fate had chosen to send this boat pass his way, then who was he to refuse it? Of course, now wasn't the time. He'd downed a mouthful of liquor, two mugs of ale, with a third already going down his gullet. Now was not the time to plot... Anything, really. He put the second empty mug beside the first. A few more, and he probably wouldn't even remember he had been in a fight, or that he was supposed to be back in... Half an hour ago.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

"Ain't fer no table-flippin', mate," Tock said with a snicker. She sipped at her ale, remembering her... less than graceful departure from Syliras a few weeks back. "Were 'prenticed fer a wizard 'ere, and the blimey ol' codger done kicked me out! What I done tolds 'im, ''E's yer bloody cat, yous can clean up after 'im yer bloody self!'" She shrugged and took another swift of her drink, "Were bloody sick o' the ol' fart, anywho..." She belched, and eyed the man sidelong when he talked about passing her off as his 'master.' She shrugged and said, "If'n ya ain't wanna be a slave, 'en why'd ya go an' been one inna first place? Shoulda bloody told 'em 'no'..." She saw it as simple as that. No one told her what to do, or how to live her life. "Though I ain't what leavin' tomorrow, o' nothin'," she added. "Jus' thinkin' 'bout 'er. But if'n I does, 'en sure, ya can come on wit'." Of course, she realized she needed a job or something, if she was going to save up money for another trip. Her time spent in Syliras, she hadn't earned any pay; the terms of her apprenticeship had been education, room, and board, in exchange for doing whatever bloody bull shyke tasks old Archimaneus had needed. Which had usually consisted of a lot of pain in the arse, and dealing with his bloody cat all the time. It had, unfortunately, left her somewhat strapped for cash. She had spent most if what she'd had left just getting to Ravok. She had enough for now to feed herself, but nowhere need enough for another trip.