It's All Tukant to Me (Emma)

[Griffith]

Griffith had finished his piece and was awaiting her response when she gave him a rather deliberate wink. His response was to blink in surprise and tilt his head questioningly to the right, feeling he might have missed something. What was she getting at, anyways? He was almost ready to believe the way she kept throwing him off balance was deliberate or part of some scheme.

Then she began to speak again, and then it clicked. This was not a hypothetical conversation in the least. She was talking about getting him to go out and do honest-to-Yahal treasure hunting! And yet... he had mixed feelings on the matter. First off, time was an issue. After all, he was still training in Reimancy, and then there was the matter of informing the Akalak who taught him his own martial arts. There was also this, his job. He doubted the owner of the library, Shandre, would appreciate it if he just disappeared without sufficient forewarning to find someone who spoke Shiber to replace him...

Despite these reasons to decline the Kelvic's offers out of hand, he found himself listening intently and without interruption. And when she was finished, all he could do was sigh and sit forward. "Well, first off, you can't convince me treasure-hunting is safe. I've read too many accounts to the contrary, you see." He waved away an immediate reply. "But that is not a particular concern of mine. If I had cared about safety, I'd never have left the Burning Lands." A dark look crossed his face for a moment, but if the Benshira was aware of the expression or planned to explain further, he gave no sign of it.

He went on after a moment. "In any event, I have something of a counter-proposal for you. First off, if I decide to work for you, it'll be entirely on my own time, of my own choice. You can drop the two-hundred miza reimbursement offer. Secondly, while what we search for does not necessarily have to revolve around searching for ancient treasures, I get the opportunity to study all artifacts we encounter for recording purposes. I'll only want to keep them if learning more about them requires extensive study, so it is likely you'll still wind up with the majority of anything we find. That said, I'll still need a minimum percentage of the mizas from anything we find. I don't particularly care for riches, but I acknowledge a need for funding. And my last term is that you give me until the first day of the Summer season before we begin searching. I have things to wrap up and people to inform of my likely departure. If you'll grant me that, then we've got a deal."

[Emma]

Emma only smiled as Griffith made his proposition. She could already tell she had him. The way he listened and watched so intently, like the proverbial hook was tugging at his lip too hard for him to turn away. The look of shock and surprise that washed over him for a long moment as it all seemed to come together. Even once he began stating his terms, she wasn't worried, as she knew a counter-proposal meant he was quite interested, and there was only one thing to stop her from agreeing to his terms.

Silently, she listened and nodded as the man of the desert spoke his qualms. Safety wasn't an issue... good, good... that would be the hardest part to follow through on, after all. His own time... it might prove problematic, but a trip back here for more translations between her own searches was no great loss. the dropping of her reimbursement offer was actually a very good thing, as that was nearly all she had to her name. Freedom of choice for location was hardly a difficulty. All the places she would look focused on the pre-cataclysmic world. And a lower pay for him? This was getting better and better! After all, less for him would mean more for the next step of her plan...

Grinning ear-to-ear by now (which made an amusing but also slightly intimidating display of her sharp teeth), the Kelvic girl nodded as Griffith finished. In fact, she might be able to sway him a bit more as well by using his own request for time for her benefit. Idly, she reached into her pocket and found a piece of twine. Tying it into a loop, she began to play it along her fingers, creating intricate designs as she spoke.

"I'll do you one better. You see, I'm not much of a fighter, and judging by a quick glance..."

She looked up from her thread, making it obvious she was examining the translator as she looked him up and down, then stared back into his eyes with a slightly critical expression before returning to the twine.

"... neither are you. That's why I'll be getting a few more people to go with us. You can have until the first of summer, but after that, I'll need you. We won't leave until the fifth at the earliest, but I'll need some help getting the word out that we're hiring, and those that go with us will probably need some time to pack as well. You humans always seem that. You can continue o do what you need during that time as well, but not when I need you, understood?"

[Griffith]

Griffith watched her carefully, gauging her reaction. He wasn't very skilled in making deals; it was why he was not a businessman or a merchant. She was too-wide-grinning at hearing his words. She liked what she heard, obviously. And given that she was the one making the initial offer, it likely meant that his counter-proposal had been to his own detriment. It did not bother him overly; she'd agreed to his terms, which were the ones which truly mattered to him.

The only reason he'd made the demand for his own time was a simple one: any ruins they encountered were not likely to be written in Ancient Tongue, given that it predated writing. No. While he could read that tome, the odds that they would find anything in their travels written in Shiber were small. His people as a whole had never particularly left the desert, after all.

His eyes traced the patterns she wove into the thread she was playing with as he listened to her words. He met her gaze when she paused to give him another once-over, which resulted in him raising an eyebrow and smirking lightly. He knew he would be outclassed in most fights, but he did have his Reimancy. While he would only use it when he had to - it killed the user slowly, in a sense - his teacher had devised ways to make the Water element deadly, even in the hands of a low-level mage such as Griffith. Still, her observation was not terribly inaccurate; he could only use so much Res before he went into overgiving, and that was a line best not crossed.

As far as appearing when she needed him... "That's fine," he told her. "You'll have given me the time I needed by then." He ignored the jibe about Humans needing time to pack, even if such was not the case; he'd not explained himself in detail, after all. Though his thoughts on fighting ability did remind him of several things. Things which he should probably mention to her, for that matter.

"But there are... two more things I should tell you. Firstly..." he waited until he held her gaze. "How do you feel about magic?"

[Emma]

Emma, who had still been smiling as Griffith began, froze when he spoke of magic. Her expression was unreadable, but the action was foreboding. In general, a sudden silence and ceasing of motion was not a good thing. She had good reason to distrust magic, but the term "curiosity killed the cat" came to mind, and she had equal reason to like it.

After a few tense seconds, the girl leaned forward. The thread went limp between her hand as they fell together, and she didn't even seem to notice as the line of dirty blonde hair fell into her face again. Her eyes had lost the gleam of amusement, showing yet another side of this Kelvic. Calm, suspicious, almost sad, she suddenly seemed years older.

"Let me finish that thought for you. If your asking, it's relevant. That means either you perform it, or you refuse to associate with it at all. Given that you are interested in ancient artifacts, I assume it's the former."

Emma sighed, un-looping the twine from her left hand before letting her head fall into said hand, kneading her temples by placing her fingertips just below the band of her goggles. She took another long moment, then spoke up anew.

"I'm... curious, but cautious."

Feeling a need to explain herself, the Kelvic woman looked up, her golden eyes penetrating the man before her, being careful not to say more than she wanted to, but as much else as she could. After all, if they were to work together, they needed to share at least the general things.

"As a treasure hunter, you get used to a lot of older magic. It's also a fascinating subject, and I'll be the first to admit that it would fascinate me but for one thing. Magic and I have a bad history. If you practice it, I have no objection, but if you get close to me with it without my permission, You'll wake up missing your fingers. Got it?"

Of course, she was bluffing a good deal. She needed him, that much was obvious, but then again, her threat wouldn't stop him translating, even if he crossed that line.

[Griffith]

Griffith tilted his head at the change in her, cautious and curious in his own right. Magic was the cause of the Valterrian; revealing it carried a considerable risk, for outright distrust or disdain - if not hatred - could be expected by those publicly known to be magi. In fact, he might have been tempted to have said nothing at all had the knowledge that withholding such information might have led to dispute later one. Even so, it was not something to be told lightly. That was the caution.

The curiosity was less generalized. That was entirely based upon her particular reaction. She went... quiet. That was almost surprising from her, who had struck him as overly cheerful so far. Suspicious, too. But that was normal from anyone, generally including other magi. And... sadness? The Benshira was never entirely certain of what he read in people - his brother had said he spent too much time amongst books, whose contents were open to all. Those in and of themselves were not so strange. But most would have called out, or backed or cringed away at the mention of magic. She leaned forward without obvious distress or intention to immediately inflict harm. Realizing he had initially tensed, the refugee forced himself to relax. Not to the point of abandoning caution, of course, but enough not to seem as though he were on edge.

He listened to her without movement or distraction. The mention of magic had struck a chord, as it were, and he wanted to be ready to react if she changed her mind about hiring him. Indeed, she could very well try to attack him.

When she was finished, he gave a small nod, matching her for seriousness. "My magic is of the class called 'personal'. You say you're familiar with older magic?" He turned in his seat, dragging a backpack from beneath his desk which had previously gone unnoticed. He reached down and undid the bindings on a pocket, sitting up with a full canteen of water. Unscrewing the top, he drank some of contents quickly and setting the container upright on the desk, with the top still off. "I am a practitioner of Reimancy, you see," he offered as an explanation before he closed his eyes and sat back.

Slowly, a clear, ethereal gas began to seep from his hands. After a few seconds, the Benshira opened his eyes to guide the Res, material practically formed from his soul. First and foremost, he kept the substance away from Emma. It wouldn't do if she mistook his demonstration for an attack and lashed out to strike him. The gas formed into a silvery orb over the canteen, whereupon the bottommost part of it began to flow into water, falling the foot's difference into the opening of the container. The apprentice Reimancer continued the exercise for a span of several seconds more until all the Res he had conjured was transmuted into the only element he could command, and then he took up the canteen again with his hands and replaced the cork. "I'm still but a learner," he told Emma, "so I can't really command anything other than water."

[Emma]

As Griffith drew forth his canteen from his backpack, Emma thought nothing of it. It was a warm day, and in a dusty place like this, it would be no surprise if the man was thirsty. She herself was quite parched herself, and her eyes rested on the container of life-giving liquid for a second or so after it was set down, not sure if the open lid was an invitation to drink. That was, until Griffith spoke again, and her eyes went back to him.

Before she could guess what was about to happen, something began to creep from the man's hands. It looked like a thick fog, only with a bit more shimmer to it, perhaps a slightly bluer hue, and it's patterns it wove towards the canteen were enough to prove it's magical qualities. She was dead silent, her eyes wide as she watched in what seemed to be a childish awe. Her mouth even opened slightly, caught in the wonder of what must have been a relatively simple spell. She was fascinated, like one who was being hypnotized in a street performance, and she watched with unfailing concentration as the misty substance formed together before sliding down into the open canteen. She had said she was curious, but this definitely proved her point.

She stayed in the state of amazement for a moment longed after the "mist" had disappeared. The seeming spell cast over her consciousness only ended once Griffith reached out and took the canteen again. the action jolted her back to reality rather abruptly, and almost all of the desert-dweller's words were lost as they passed by her pointed ears while she blinked the dregs of her trance-like state away, shaking her head fiercely as he finished with eyes squinted shut, the motion freeing more of her unruly hair to fall in her face.

Having escaped from her fascination, the Kelvic's brows suddenly furrowed, her sharp teeth forming a snarl, a feline hiss even escaping her as her slit pupils thinned, shooting killing looks at Griffith. Quick as the feline that was her other form, she rose, her hand flying out to strike the canteen out of the man's hands, a task which should not have been difficult. Ignoring the blonde strands in her face, she half-spoke, half-spit her words with a deep-seated anger that was brought on by memories of her most personal experiences with magic, and the pain caused by them.

"I said not to get close to me with it! I'm willing to bet there's more than one person in the world who can read that stuff, and if not for the fact that it would take me weeks longer to find them, I would retract the offer. Unless someone's life depends on it, if your working with me, you'll keep your... voo-doo... to yourself!

[Griffith]

The Benshira would have offered the Kelvic some of the water, but if she wanted her to keep his magic to himself, she probably wouldn't have enjoyed knowing that she'd just drunk water which was originally transmuted from a Reimancer's Res.

Still slightly sluggish after the trance he had entered, Griffith looked up when he heard the hiss. His expression was unguardedly blank, as being socially distant was a common aftereffect of casting a spell. That expression vanished as she swatted the canteen out of his hands, becoming a frown as his gaze tracked the container. Fortunately, he'd secured the stopper just in time. Even so...

He snapped his eyes back up to her, scowling. She could have spilled good water! Her words might not have registered immediately, but her tone certainly did. And said tone didn't help his temper. "You almost-" he cut himself off as the cause of her anger suddenly resolved itself in his mind, and he sat back, taking a moment to close his eyes, breathe, and not reply in a manner which would make things worse. When he opened his eyes again, he spoke with a quiet which was intended to be entirely sensible; he'd used it to calm people down before. "I should have warned you of what I planned. I thought you might want a demonstration of the magic you would have at your disposal. I did my best not to alarm you with it. If I failed, I'm quite sorry."

[Emma]

Emma listened in quiet, seething anger as Griffith explained himself. Perhaps she was even a bit too angry. This might seem the case, for in truth, her anger was two-fold, directed at both the desert man and herself, though both might read as directed at him. After all, how could she be so foolish? She knew enough about magic to distrust, fear and hate it. She shouldn't care how interesting it might be, or other such nonsense. She hated herself for being so interested, which only magnified her angst towards the source of her curiosity and despise.

As Griffith finished, Emma closed her eyes. Breathe in and out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in... breath out... there. The monotonous exercise helped her cool her temper a bit, and she sat down none to gracefully as she finished, making a soft thump as she hit the wood. She winced internally, wondering if she might have bruised her tail bone, but to her viewer, she was still haughty and upset.

"As you should be. I have half a mind to leave right now!"

After a tense moment of her glaring, though, her curiosity began to surface anew, showing as her eyes moved back towards the canteen, brows no longer furrowed and mouth moved from it's scowl. She chewed her lip for a second, then opened her mouth to speak.

"But... since you did... What exactly did you-"

Suddenly she paused. Goodness, had one no insight into her mind, they might think she was being possessed in alternating spurts, her mood seemed to change so quickly. Even as her narrator explained this, she was reprimanding herself again for her curiosity, and her disgruntled expression returned before she huffily looked away, nose turned up as she seemed to examine a ceiling tile.

"Never mind. What was the other thing?"

[Griffith]

Griffith raised an eyebrow at the Kelvic, amused in spite of himself. She could go from berating him to asking questions to pretending she had never done the latter in the span of seconds, it seemed, and he was becoming less and less surprised by these sudden mood swings of hers.

He reached down, scooping the glorified waterskin from the floor and setting it on the desk next to where they sat facing each other. Pointing to it, he answered the questions she'd cut herself off of. "Have some, if you want. I assure you, there's nothing magical about it once it has been transmuted."

He went on to mention the 'second thing' without waiting to see if she would accept the water or not. She had said to ignore her questions about just what he did, and as much as he might have enjoyed the chance to discuss Reimancy with someone, her reaction to his earlier casting was sufficient warning not to bring it up again unless she asked with retraction. "Now, the second thing I should tell you is that I might know some people who would be interested in going with us. Two, to be precise."

The Benshira sat back, folding his arms across his chest. "The first is a lion Kelvic who's hung around my camp from time to time during the last season. He knows how to fight with his hands, in addition to using a type of magic which enhances his physical strength. I can ask him if he'd be interested the next time he's around. The second is a fellow Human trainee in the martial arts as taught to us by an Akalak in the city. He was making his own preparations to leave Riverfall the last time I talked to him. Last I heard, he didn't know where he was going, only that he wanted to leave. I can mention the notion of treasure-hunting to him the next time we train. That said," he spread his arms in a 'what more do you want from me' gesture before they folded across his chest again, "I don't expect either of them to agree without settling terms with you first. I can arrange for you to meet both of them on the first day of summer, if you want?"

[Emma]

Emma watched as Griffith lifted the waterskin again, setting it on the table. His offer for her to try it by no means fell on deaf ears, and a good deal of his following words were lost on her as her golden eyes settled on the container before her.

Watching the waterskin with wide, golden eyes, her head tipped slightly to the side as she contemplated it. He hadn't answered her question, as much as she had half-hoped he would even after her outburst. It looked almost as if he had made water from the mist-like substance, and it's swollen bottom certainty argued that as well. But was it even possible? Her ears twitched slightly, like an involuntary wiggle as she watched, which caused the small golden hoop in her left to swing slightly. She was curious, and there was no denying it.

Silently, she bit her lip, slightly pointed teeth showing as she deliberated whether or not to actually look. Eventually, her curiosity won out, though, and she shied away slightly while reaching out an arm to delicately touch the container of water. It did not explode, or turn into some ravenous beast trying to eat her, or anything of the sort, so she picked it up, leaning close again, weighing it in he hand. A few seconds passed, then she reached up and un-stoppered it, careful not to puncture the leather with her file-sharpened nails, though it was doubtful she could. again, seconds passed without much motion other than her ears giving another slight twitch, her eyes wide as she peered at the open top before lifting it to her nose and sniffing, the sensory organ crinkling momentarily as she did so. No smell. Just... water. Again, her ears moved, this time her nose joining them int he twitch, and she pulled the waterskin close yet again, peering inside of it, too enthralled in her curiosity to keep in mind her caution or her company.

It was only when she again moved the waterskin away before pressing it to her lips, utterly disbelieving that it could be real water that she realized Griffith had ceased talking. He was watching her, and she froze for a moment before remembering the waterskin and her show of distaste before. Quickly, she moved it away from her face, putting the cap back on and setting it in her lap, brushing the stray hairs from her face yet again to buy her a moment to remember what the man had said. Friends, right. After a small, calming breath, she nodded, clearing her throat before speaking.

"Right, um... They can come to the meeting as well. I'll have some want ad's up by then, hopefully. Though, now that I think of it, it might be a bit longer. How does the... 16th of summer sound?"