A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Cassidy Finch on September 4th, 2012, 12:51 am

"You think I want to be a thief? You think I chose to creep around like a common thug? I can't even get a damned job because my old owner has his fingers in half the city!" Velvet really did not like where this was going. She had spoken out of turn and it looked like she was going to be paid back for it. The man may not have been more than a spindly little wisp of a person, but she was still intimidated by his height and aggressiveness.

Furiously, he advanced towards Velvet, "I try to do you a good turn," another step, "and you have," another step, "the nerve," another step, "to act insulted!?" he shoved at her shoulders. "Fine, then! Caetszo!" With every step, the slave had grown more skittish and taken a smaller step back, but when he shoved her, Velvet had to struggle to stay aright as her feet slid in the mud of the street. She regained her balance just as she saw him make a very obscene gesture towards her. Against the slave's better judgement, Velvet opened her mouth to issue a scalding insult when suddenly the man's entire demeanor changed. His shoulders slumped as he used his hand--the same one that had recently insulted her--to slap himself in the face.

He no longer seemed angry, and looked much more weary than before. Velvet did not think she had ever seen someone change composure so quickly. "You know what, just go away... Sorry for trying to show some shred of decency. I should've known it doesn't exist here." he sneered. Despite his tone, Velvet could tell that he was no longer angry or hateful, "When you're beaten to death, that's not on my head." Immediately, he turned around and began walking away from her.

Though she knew that she ought to let him go, the slave also knew that she was in the wrong. Suddenly, she felt like a little girl who had been caught misbehaving in public. This was much worse than the humiliation she endured as a slave; it was something she brought on herself, something she fully deserved. Velvet felt less like a human being and more like a filthy slave now than when she had been beaten and spit on. Why had she lost her temper like that? "Wait, I'm sorry!" She said emphatically, taking his arm and trying to stop his retreat from her, "You're right... I was wrong. I had no right to speak to you like that."

Velvet found it a strange that she was apologizing to the man who had so recently been robbing her, but she knew she had to do it or she would have to accept that she really was the filth that free men thought slaves like her were. "My master is Sevris Lazarin..And I'm Velvet." She told him, hesitant about letting him know her name. The name her previous master gave her still seemed sour on her tongue, but she had forced herself to adopt it nonetheless. It would do no good to suddenly tell her master that she was really named something else; besides, she had promised herself that when she was free, she would return to using her full name, the name of a free woman.

"What's yours?"
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Volinir Orchid on September 6th, 2012, 3:06 am

"Wait, I'm sorry!"

That was new. Usually, when he snapped at people, they either pushed back, or had him brutally beaten within an inch of his life. Of course, slaves weren't known for their great assertiveness and aggression. Still, it had been a very, very long time since he has heard the word "sorry" before.

The pressure of Velvet's fingers clamping down on his wrist caused him to jump violently. Generally speaking, any physical contact was followed by something blunt and heavy striking him repeatedly in places that were better left unbruised. He whipped around angrily, about to say something else, but she wasn't done yet. "You're right... I was wrong. I had no right to speak to you like that."

Volinir worked his mouth for a few ticks, but she wasn't finished talking, "My master is Sevris Lazarin..And I'm Velvet."

Sevris Lazarin. He'd have to remember that name. If nothing else, a couple convincing lies could give him a bit of carte blanche. A small nod, and a smaller smile. "Call me Volinir."

The Symenestra shifted a little uncomfortably, trying to think of something to say. A couple ticks later, he finally said, "So um... How long?.." Volinir trailed off. Asking someone how long they'd been languishing in chains wasn't exactly pleasant conversation material, but he couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment.
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Cassidy Finch on September 6th, 2012, 3:36 am

The young slave noted with relief that her apology seemed to have calmed the man down. "Call me Volinir." He told her with a nearly unnoticeable smile. For a few ticks, they stood in awkward silence. Velvet wracked her brain for something that might continue the conversation, but came up short. Much to her relief, he broke the silence with, "So um... How long?.."

At first, Velvet had no idea what he was talking about. How long what? What did he mean? Slowly however she understood. The only thing he knew about her was that she was a slave. He was asking her how long she'd been under the lash. This wiped all relief from her features and replaced it with a guarded wariness. She certainly had no intention of telling Volinir too much about herself. "Only a few days," She told him with a forced smile. It wasn't really a lie... She really had been a slave in Ravok for only a short while. Velvet didn't need to tell him that she had been a slave for most of her life, did she? It wasn't any of his business anyhow.

After a tick, the young woman asked a question of her own to get the focus of the conversation off of herself. Since he had asked her such a personal question, she felt justified in asking, "Who was your master before you escaped?" A slight smirk twisted the side of her mouth upward as she spoke; she wanted to make him as uncomfortable as she felt right then.
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Volinir Orchid on September 6th, 2012, 5:06 am

The Symenestra balked at Velvet's scowl. "Sorry, you don't have to answer if-"
"Three days."
Volinir stopped and shrugged. That would explain the anger and quality of clothes. "Better off than me, then. Five years." She told him; it was only fair that he shared the same.
"Who was your master before you escaped?"
He smiled grimly. It wasn't a surprise that it would go there. He just really hoped she wouldn't try to turn him in. "Ever heard of the Nitrozians?"

The noble family wasn't exactly obscure. He'd be more surprised if Velvet didn't know of them than if she did. He fidgeted nervously with his fingers, casting an awkward glance off to the side. Perhaps something a bit less bitter would break the ice better. "What were you looking for, anyways?" he chirped with a somewhat anxious smile. "I'm guessing the hopping wasn't a rain dance..."
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Cassidy Finch on September 6th, 2012, 9:17 pm

"Ever heard of the Nitrozians?"

For a second, Velvet felt as if she had heard the name before. Volinir certainly seemed to think that she ought to with the way he was looking at her. All she could do was stare at him with a confused expression and try to remember where she had heard of the Nitrozians. It sounded so familiar... When he spoke next, the slave was pulled out of her thoughts, "What were you looking for, anyways?" he chirped at her with an anxious smile. "I'm guessing the hopping wasn't a rain dance..."

The spindly man's comment left Velvet blushing in embarrassment. "No, it wasn't," She agreed as she tried to ignore her burning cheeks, "I just wanted to get out of the street. I don't like the crowds," The slave admitted uncomfortably. She did not like openly telling a stranger about one of her fears, but she still felt like she owed Volinir something for the way she had acted. "Why did you try to steal from me?" The young woman asked, "I don't look too rich, do I?"

With a roll of her eyes, she held her arms out and looked down at herself; she certainly did not look rich. With no shoes and plain clothes, she looked more like a common workman than a slave. That thought drew her attention to the large stains on her clothing and her mouth creased downward in a frown as she noted the difficulty that would be required in removing the stains. Sevris would be fit to burst if she came back to his apartments in this condition...
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Volinir Orchid on September 14th, 2012, 2:24 am

"They're a family of nobles." Volinir supplied when he saw the girl's confusion. He smiled grimly, fidgeting with his fingers. Hopefully that wouldn't give her any ideas for making a quick miza. "Sorry..." he said quietly when he saw her blush, though she continued anyways, "I just wanted to get out of the street. I don't like the crowds,"

The Symenestra chuckled, "Me neither. The pushy ones especially leave me scared to death. I haven't much of a choice but to keep in them though, what with my trade."
"Why did you try to steal from me?" The young woman asked, "I don't look too rich, do I?"
A shrug. "You looked distracted. Better to steal a copper and eat, than to steal a gold piece and get clapped in irons, aye? Especially when you've something to hide."

Seeing her scowl at her clothes, Volinir tilted his head to the side and tapped his chin a couple times. Technically speaking, it was his fault that she had gotten dirty, and he felt like he had to do something about it. He knew too well what happened when he came home in a less than favorable condition. Feeling no less awkward for it, he asked hesitantly, "Hey, if you don't need to be going anywhere... Want some help getting those stains out?"
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Cassidy Finch on September 14th, 2012, 11:30 pm

"Hey, if you don't need to be going anywhere... Want some help getting those stains out?" Volinir offered awkwardly, causing Velvet to laugh dryly. How would he help her? It wasn't like she had somewhere to wash them. She'd just have to go back to her master's apartments and hope he wasn't there. But if he was... The slave sighed. She didn't want to get in any more trouble than she was already going to, so there was nothing for it but to hope this man could offer her some meaningful help.

"Yes, please," She said with a defeated glance down at her soiled clothing. The woman noticed that her hair also had mud in it, and she sighed again. Nothing was going right today! She looked like a tramp, and probably smelt like one too. "Where do you have in mind?" Velvet had no idea at all where she could wash up without being unwelcome; she was all but resigned to returning home to a beating--or worse. If she made a habit out of this kind of thing, Velvet was sure she'd find herself hanging from a noose. She was sure that men in her master's line of work didn't take well to below-par work.

The woman looked Volinir over once more. He was certainly not very much to look at. The man seemed to be in even worse shape than she was, so thin and pale. The only thing about him that looked clean were his nails, claw-like things that were painted black. The woman stared at them for a few moments before meeting Volinir's eyes once more and leaning against the wall of the alley. Her clothes were already too dirty to excuse, so a little grime from the alley wall was nothing. Velvet held herself with an unusual confidence as she eyed Volinir. It wasn't a hostile or disdainful confidence, like the ones she'd seen many freemen possess. It was a prideful confidence that showed who she really was. For the first time since leaving Sunberth, the slave had fully let her guard down in front of someone.
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Volinir Orchid on September 19th, 2012, 3:13 am

"Wonderful!" With a short jerk of his head, he motioned for Velvet to follow him. Past throngs of men and women meandering to the market he led her, through alleyways and past crumbling marble shops with boarded windows. Past ramshackle hugs and moldering wood piers, to a small shack near the heart of the Docks. Volinir tugged twice on the door before it swung open with a loud scrape, and gestured for the slave to step inside. There wasn't a single light in the room except for what Syna shone in through the windows, and furniture was practically nonexistent. A moth-eaten straw bed with threadbare blankets over it, and little else. A small hole in the floor exposed the lake, and a bucket tied to a frayed rope served to draw water up.

"Well, it's not much, but it keeps me dry." Volinir said with a grimace before beckoning her to step inside. Once that was done, he shoved the door half-shut for privacy's sake, and crossed his arms, "All right. No point dawdling. Off with the rags. The blanket ought to serve you well enough until they're clean."

Perhaps he wasn't really that dense, but he wasn't particularly fond of people, and really, he deserved it for being a Samaritan, didn't he?
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Cassidy Finch on September 21st, 2012, 12:51 am

"Wonderful!" Volinir exclaimed, jerking his head towards the street and starting off into the crowd. Without hesitation, Velvet padded after him, her bare feet silent save for the occasional squelching sound as her unlucky feet fell into the occasional pile of something or other that was better left unidentified. Some time and several slum alleys later, the lanky, pale man was jerking a rotten door open to reveal a small, moldy space. Slivers of Syna's light drifted in through the windows, piercing the gloom with their brilliance. The slave looked around, fairly impressed. An escaped slave like Volinir could hardly hope for more than this; it was perfect. Unobtrusive, simple, and something no one would take any troubles with taking from him. She stepped inside and heard the door scrape loudly as he shut it halfway.

Crossing his arms, the man stared at her and said, "All right. No point dawdling. Off with the rags. The blanket ought to serve you well enough until they're clean." The slave blinked twice in surprise. Was he seriously asking her to take her clothes off in front of him? She narrowed her eyes at him and fought the temptation to return the obscene gesture that he had recently given her. Her surprise wasn't based in embarrassment or humiliation; by necessity, a slave rarely had any sense of modesty left. Being exhibited naked to lecherous, disgusting faces during slave auctions usually took care of what little shreds of dignity most slaves clung to. She was shocked that a former slave would expect her to just bare herself in that way.

"Turn around first." The slave said in a hard voice, making a turning gesture with her hands. She had no plans to let herself be humiliated in front of a runaway slave. Being a slave at all was bad enough; she wouldn't lower herself to below even this man's status. She just wouldn't.
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A Pocket Picked (Volinir)

Postby Volinir Orchid on September 23rd, 2012, 3:15 am

"Turn around first." the slave said, clearly less than pleased with the idea of something with eyes looking at her undressing. Volinir lazily raised his hands to either side of his head in a halfhearted gesture of surrender, "All right calm down, I was joking." he said before turning on his heel and staring at the wooden wall.

"Just tell me when you're done." he sighed irritably, tapping his foot on the ground. Small talk was neither something Volinir was good at, or fond of.


OOCSorry about the length, but I really couldn't think of anything else after doing what she said.
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