Open [The Great Bazaar] Lost

[Isolde Seibold]

{78th Spring, 513 AV}

Isolde was lost. She wasn't frustrated by the fact. Nor was she upset. She was just... lost.

The people here were unhelpful. They didn't want to talk to her. She wondered if that was because they somehow sensed that she was Nuit, or because they didn't have time to waste. She thought she might understand, either way. Isolde wouldn't have been comfortable with a Nuit, back when she had been truly alive. The first time she had seen one --though she supposed there had been more than one, hadn't there?-- she'd been terrified out of her wits. She could still remember, despite the years, the haunting faces and black smiles, cast into shadow from the low candlelight in those damned caves. But she supposed those memories weren't something to inspect, currently. She drew her mind away from them. They wouldn't help her any more than these people would.

Isolde could also clearly see the other reason they might not want to talk to her, regardless of her... affliction. It was very loud in the Bazaar. Holding anything more than a simple conversation would be difficult. There was too much going on. Too many distractions. Even the most determined would find themselves losing their train of thought. Doubtless Isolde had been sidetracked many times already. That was probably the reason she was lost. She found she couldn't retrace her steps. So she just kept going forward, hoping to find a respite. Or at least something familiar. No luck thus far.

Her best bet would be to find a wall, and follow along that until she could get to an exit. Problem was, this body was rather short and small. Perhaps a few inches over five feet, including the half-inch of her boot heel. It was also rather petite, small-boned. She kept getting jostled, turned around, dumped to the side as people hurried by, busy, busy, busy. It was like drowning. She could barely keep her head out of the water, let alone fight the current.

Finally, she turned again to trying to get a response out of the people nearest to her. She tugged at the sleeve of a young man, yelling, "Do you know the way out?" He took one look at her and ducked his head, hurrying away. She tried to follow, wondering how he had gotten all those people to get out of his way, but the gap in the crowds had closed again, the river waiting for no one. She tried to recall the details of the map that man at the entrance of the Bazaar had shown her. Isolde had thought about purchasing a copy, but had decided that she would be able to navigate by sight-- how hard could it be? And now see how that had turned out. She wondered if the place was always like this, or if she had just chosen the wrong day to venture here. She hadn't realized, too, how very expansive the Bazaar itself was. It seemed to go on forever.

But that thought wasn't going to help her, either. She could review this new experience later. Currently, she needed to get away from this place. The noise was starting to wear on her. As were the looks people were giving her. If there was one thing the Nuit could feel --and often did-- it was tired, bone-weary. If only she could get away-- then she could find her purpose again, stick to it, let it fuel her.

"Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me--" the Nuit chanted, trying to shove through the masses, getting bounced around. She nearly lost her balance when one foul-faced man gave her an extra hard shove in return, and she was forced into a complete about-face, pivoting on one heel, wind-milling her arms to keep from going down-- much to the aggravation of those nearest to her. Isolde was left to wonder if she would get out of this in one piece. She hoped so. The thought of taking another body so soon was unappealing. The Nuit thought about calling for help, but wasn't willing to bring even more attention to herself. And what did she need help from? Being in a body too weak and small to effectively walk through a crowd in a busy area of the city? The Knights weren't likely to waste their time on such a plea. She would just have to get out of this herself. And hopefully without getting crushed into uselessness.

[Leda]

The weather was getting warm, hotter and sunnier than earlier in the Season. It felt like Summer and Leda would have rather enjoyed it, if it were not for the fact that the great bazaar was indoors. That rather turned her mood since the inside of the great bazaar, although it was cool when the temperature really heated to a sweltering point, was rather closed off from any great source of natural light... and if there was one thing which Leda missed slightly, in the fortress city of Syliras as opposed to the Suvan Sea where she had been born and brought up, it was natural light. Wide and open spaces had been the rule of thumb until she moved to Syliras. She had just finished with a customer. A woman of close to forty who must once have been beautiful and was clearly trying to hang onto that with everything in her power, heavily made-up with dark curly red hair, obviously maintained that way with some sort of strong dye. Leda had discovered that the woman had once been a prostitute but now worked as a housekeeper for a wealthy family on the outskirts of Syliras, where she was married to one of the manservants. Through a mixture of Rune Stones, Tarot Cards and Palmistry Leda had predicted that she'd suddenly come into some money through the death of someone or other and that she would probably separate and marry someone else. Of course, very few of her readings were so precise, but it had seemed really rather obvious with the choice of cards then backed up by what she had seen in the woman's palm. Now, she sat cross-legged outside the little turquoise tent from which she conducted all her business, for five minutes there without a customer. Usually she might be playing with her tarot cards or reading a book, but she had not slept very well the night before and was tired. Therefore, she merely sat silently, watching the world come and go with interest. It was then that Leda noted a quite strange-looking woman looking decidedly lost. She didn't say anything at first, just watching as the woman passed by the booth where they sold incense. As she came closer, Leda thought the woman was ill and, as she emerged almost in front of her looking really rather panicked, it became obvious that it was not so much a woman as a nuit. Leda was naturally distrustful of things like the Nuit and she knew it was possibly wrong to be so, but one could never be too safe. Maybe it was the idea of what they were... a living thing inhabiting a dead body (At least, that's what she thought it was - she had never met a nuit before and was not sure if that was right) Leda was going to ignore it completely when she realised that the Nuit looked pretty lost and therefore troubled. She wasn't going to get involved but she looked like she had no defence skills whatsoever and might be about to get crushed by the crowd. "Can I help you?" Leda had got up and moved towards the nuit with a small smile.

[Isolde Seibold]

Isolde was tiring of this very quickly. She was just contemplating letting the stream of people carry her for a while before trying again, when one voice in particular rang out from the mass roar of the others. Isolde's head automatically swept in the direction it had come from, looking for the source.

"Can I help you?"

The voice had come from a young woman, probably around the same age that Isolde appeared, give or take a couple years. She had a graceful figure, long, dark hair, and there was a light smile on her face. Whether or not the smile was from amusement at Isolde's complete ineptitude or was intended to reassure, the Nuit wasn't certain. Regardless, she held onto the smile and the words like a rope tossed into the sea. If she could only get past these people--

There. An opening. Isolde rushed forward, expecting to be bumbled aside again, and instead met nothing but empty space. The man she had thought she was going to collide with had stopped at the last tick, and Isolde stumbled free of the crowd, almost running into the young woman who had called out, coming face-to-face with the girl. After she managed to collect her balance, the Nuit ducked her head and immediately took a couple steps back and to the side, keeping her eyes from the girl's face. She wondered if she'd gotten too close to the young woman and hoped she hadn't offended her; she'd found in the few short days that she had spent exploring Syliras that a majority of the population wanted to have nothing to do with the Nuit --understandable-- and some of them took great offense to even being glanced at. Isolde had quickly learned to stand a few feet back, and to keep her eyes elsewhere.

In response to the woman's question, the Nuit mumbled out, "You already have. Thank you for your kindness. I know some people-- well." She bobbed her thin shoulders in a stiff shrug, glancing up before looking back down again. "They wouldn't lose sleep over seeing... someone like me trampled. They might even applaud." She let the corners of her mouth twitch up in a weak, humorless smile, before the expression faded away. The Nuit shifted from foot to foot, not wanting to give the impression she was impatient with the conversation, but not wanting to hold still, either. Her fingers twitched and she could feel the urge to start tap-tap-tapping them against the nearest hard surface, or her collarbone. She forced them to hold still, for now.

"To be honest," Isolde continued after a couple ticks, still mumbling, which was hard to do in such a loud room, "I'm a little... lost. I don't suppose you know the way to the nearest exit, do you? I hope it's not far. As you've probably garnered, I don't really do well in-- in crowds." There was the same humorless twitching of her mouth. "My name's Isolde, by the way." The Nuit kept her eyes firmly upon the strange items on the booth the young woman seemed to belong to, and not on the girl's face. She found that some of the items looked vaguely familiar --the cards, for instance-- but Isolde had never known much about what sort of discipline they belonged to. She recalled a man long ago who had used to travel with such things, and attempt to use them to tell fortunes. He had never been much good at it, but he had been a kind person. Isolde hoped this girl turned out to be, as well.

[Leda]

Leda didn't flinch as the woman, the nuit, came up close towards her, although she dearly wanted to. Any such close proximity so suddenly would have made her jump, but in this case, it was even worse. It was only in an effort not to frighten the shaken-looing nuit nor make her uneasy that Leda controlled herself, but it was a relief when the nuit moved further away. "Don't worry, I wouldn't welcome and I certainly wouldn't applaud that sort of thing." Not that that meant that she was comfortable, but that was the sort of natural prejudice that one should try to rid oneself of. Why couldn't the girl stop moving? When working at the bazaar on a hot spring day, Leda usually didn't move a lot - preferring to stay silent and still, thus retaining the sort of enigmatic air that many people associated with her profession... that of a fortune teller. And there was an element of theatricality in such a profession - the customer, the public, had to get what they demanded, what they expected. Otherwise, they would probably not invest in a reading. "You look a little lost too. I'm afraid this is one of the cheaper areas in the Bazaar, which means it's one of the furthest places in the bazaar from an exit." Was the nuit trying to smile? The corner of her lip kept twitching. It was... disturbing, to be honest. "I am Leda. It is a pleasure to meet you Isolde." It was a pretty name. There was something very romantic about it and she liked the way it was pronounced. "I can point you to the way out." But the girl had said she wasn't good in crowds. Leda sighed. "If you want, I could lead you the way out. It wouldn't take long."

[Isolde Seibold]

"I am Leda. It is a pleasure to meet you Isolde. I can point you to the way out. If you want, I could lead you the way out. It wouldn't take long."

Isolde bobbled her head, peering at the girl, this Leda. She found that the girl wasn't bad company. Isolde couldn't tell if she was making Leda nervous or uncomfortable --two things she was apt to do during conversation, she had found-- but at least Leda was being civil. Nice, even. A crumb of good fortune for Isolde.

The Nuit cleared her throat. "Maybe --if you don't mind-- you could show me the way...? If you're not busy, of course. If you are, I could wait around here... somewhere... until you were done. I wouldn't want to rob you of your business." She looked again at the fortune-telling articles upon the booth, keeping her hands away from them. "Besides," Isolde mumbled out, "I have found that I can be quite good at waiting. It has been something like a hobby of mine for a while now." She tried to twitch the smile on again and this time it felt wrong, probably coming off as a grimace. So much for levity. But what did it matter? Conversing was something that was such an exercise for Isolde now, something that she tried hard to be able to do smoothly. And unfortunately, she didn't think she was doing too good with Leda. The thought that she was doing badly thus far, plus the expression on Leda's face --perhaps Isolde was being a bother-- set the Nuit to tugging at her hood, pulling it further forward so that her own face would be less visible. Maybe that could help...?

"O-Of course maybe I shouldn't h-hang around," she said, fumbling a couple of the words, losing focus as someone gave her a bit of a shove
--accidentally, no doubt-- from behind. "I wouldn't want to scare off your c-customers." Oh, she was screwing this up. Maybe she shouldn't have come over. But she really did need practice speaking to others. And she really did need to get out of here.

She risked a look at Leda, who was probably tired of the Nuit's inept babbling, and suddenly that feeling of bone-weary tiredness swept over Isolde again, as it had done frequently during the past few days. The Nuit brought her thin arms in close as if cold, though she thought the room was comfortably hot, and said, sounding a bit less animated, her voice going flat, "Sorry to be a bother. I just-- I would like to get out of here."

[Dahlia Arundel]

She really couldn't help herself. Eyes glued at the woman bundled layer over layer with clothes in clashing colors, Dahlia giggled to herself as she watched her strange approaching figure from the safety of the pile of wooden crates filled with goods from the stall of her friend. She watched as the woman bumbled through the waves of the crowd, paired with a strange jerky gait- so sudden and lingering, like an outburst of her frustrations. Tourists. The Bazaar was a great place for tourist watching. Still grinning, she reached down for her bag and pulled up her book and charcoal, making quick bold strokes as she tried to capture the Bazaar scene. She thanked the gods and goddesses of her subject's ineptitude for direction, giving her enough time to make a decent outline while she floundered her way through the crowd. Her shading then begun; rough and small strokes became illusions of people, smudged areas made by fingers gave dimension to the bustle of the Bazaar. And in the middle of the confusion, a figure made of clothes and bold strokes, was the stranger in the crowd. Dahlia smiled contently as held up the picture, as if comparing it to the original scene. Of course, it didn't really measure up, for it was too rough, too hurried (she was beginning to grow concerned by the alarming degree of the woman's lostness) but it would do. She could always refine it later. She blew at the page, wanting the charcoal to quickly settle. Dahlia was about to jump down from her position, but after a quick search, she found herself watching the tourist converse with a woman who owned the tent across the stall she was lazing next to. It was a bewildering pair… Dahlia had always quite fancied the tent lady's dark locks and the blue of her eyes. There was just something quite charming about her eyes that Dahlia could never find in her own blue eyes. It was quite aggravating. Nonetheless, the two women chatted at the same glacial pace as the tourist's own adventure. After a split second decision, Dahlia had closed her book, hauled up her bag across her shoulder and sprinted across to the pair with her book clutched to her side and a smile that could melt butter. "Sorry to be bother. I just-- I would like to get out of here." "Oooh!" Dahlia cooed, popping up just beside her. "That's a real shame! Syliras can be a pretty nice place to stay in, miss tourist. The Bazaar is quite small in comparison to the rest of the Districts... awful shame to just leave without wandering around first!" She then grinned at the tarot reader, "Isn't that right? Syliras is lovely during this season… lots of travellers gives all sorts of activity!"

[Leda]

Leda watched with sympathy as the Nuit struggled to find the appropriate wording. She looked around about her to see if there were any potential customers hovering around, then turned back with a nod. "I can take you out immediately if you like." She said with a smile, "I need to stretch my legs anyway. I have just been with a woman for quite a while, and that was immediately following a quite disturbing reading." Leda sighed to punctuate it. Usually, she never spoke to a stranger about a customer, but the Nuit made her a little nervous (As she had last time) and that was something which made her very talkative, though she had the discretion to lower her voice by quite a bit, "There was a man, quite young which made it worse, who has had a very dark life. As I was doing the reading of the present, he actually started crying. Then, I had to distort the truth slightly when doing a reading of the future. You see, he came from Sunberth for a change of life, and it was a very tough journey and he had suffered a lot. He intended to come here, become a Knight and make his fortune, but it's not going well. He got on the wrong side of the wrong people, got into a few brawls and squandered his money. Now, he's living in squalor and it all looks to be getting worse. His future does not look good and, if I were to be honest, I could not have given him long to live. I twisted it slightly to say that there will be an end to all his suffering soon. You cannot just tell customers that they're going to die, can you?" She broke off slightly and turned away. What she didn't say was that after she had finished the reading, the man felt the need to explain his entire life to her. Curious and empathetic, Leda listened to everything he said with polite concern. His Mother had died when he was eleven. When he was twelve, he had watched his father and sister stabbed to death by a group of thugs. He had had a run in with a gang and it took a great deal of trouble trying to escape from them, because they were such harsh taskmasters and, for three years, he was forced to work making sure prostitutes did as they were told, extorting money, selling weapons and collecting debts. That was only the tip of the iceberg. "Do not worry. You are not being a bother." Well, she did seem to be making surrounding people wary, but she couldn't help that. It was then that the blonde artist jumped, almost literally, into view and approached. Leda was happy to hear her speak, because it meant that she did not have to. "Oh. Hello. My name is Leda."

[Isolde Seibold]

Isolde winced at the description of the young man's life, crossing her arms tightly. She had certainly suffered hardships in her own life, and she could not think that hers paled in comparison to his, but what Leda said --lowering her voice-- was still enough to make Isolde contemplate what a hard world it seemed to be. She could not envy the young man's fate --his death, looming near-- but at least she hoped he would not be punished so by Lhex in his next life. At first she was so shocked by the sudden bad news --even a stranger's-- that she found she had lost her voice, and her train of thought. She was no longer worried about herself, but about a young man --he could've been someone she'd bumped into today-- who was about to spin low on the wheel of fate. Finally she managed to get a few words out, "Th-That's terrible." She hesitated for a second, not wanting to take up Leda's time, but... her eyes fell once more on Leda's booth, on the strange collection of tools that lay upon it. An uncertain question dragged itself to her lips, worrying its way free. "A-Are your readings always so... so macabre? I hope you often meet a stranger bearing a good fortune."

Before Leda could reply, however, a new voice cut in, practically bubbling with good nature. Isolde turned confusedly, almost stumbling as she hurriedly took a step back from the new arrival --who at this moment was only an impressing flash of blonde hair and a great, toothy grin. The Nuit did so out of deference for the girl's personal space, much as she had with Leda, and listened to the rush of words.

"Oooh! That's a real shame! Syliras can be a pretty nice place to stay in, miss tourist. The Bazaar is quite small in comparison to the rest of the Districts... awful shame to just leave without wandering around first! Isn't that right? Syliras is lovely during this season… lots of travellers gives all sorts of activity!"

The Nuit was having a hard time keeping up with the strange pace of the conversation. Here she had just been given bad news from Leda, and then a new girl had bounded right up and seemed so very happy, and content. Isolde's mind had trouble adjusting; she was not yet used to conversing. She'd only just managed to work the usual, tremendous stammer from her words, and still it managed to sometimes creep back in. Especially when she was confused, or on guard. This girl's sudden appearance was enough to send her nearly toppling over.

"Uh-- uh-- " The Nuit tried hastily to organize her mind, what to say? At least this girl, like Leda, seemed not to be offended by the Nuit's mere presence. She supposed that, in itself, was good luck. Perhaps she herself should get her fortune read, sometime soon... before she used all of her good luck up and found herself plummeting back down, down, down. Still, it appeared that things were still looking up for her. This girl might be able to help her find what she was looking for, like Leda. But what the girl was proposing was somewhat dreadful for the Nuit to contemplate. "W-Wander around...?" She couldn't keep the nervousness from her voice. She had just managed to break free from the crowds, after all! Now the girl wanted to head right back in? That was fine for someone with normal reflexes, and especially for someone who was used to being around other people. Isolde was still working her way up to becoming even modestly competent at handling large groups. "B-But I-- I-- I'm not very good with, with uh, crowds." She glanced her eyes over the girl, before looking back at all the free-flowing people milling about, buying things, talking, laughing, shoving playfully-- the Nuit knew how that playfulness could turn heated. She made a face without trying to; her expressions were always easy to read. Unfortunately, she had such a hard time reading others'. "A-And I don't even know your n-name!" Phew. There was a reason not to go out, at least not quite yet. Not without the girl's name. And hopefully Leda would come up with some reason not to head into the Bazaar. Because... Isolde didn't really have a valid one not to. Just her own fumbling uncertainty. She knew she would have to learn how to deal with people sometime. Just... just hopefully not right now. "Oh, and I'm Isolde," she tacked on, after a moment, almost forgetting to introduce herself.
---

Hardly had the words left her mouth than the girl was approached by a young man, who appeared to be a squire from the look of his demeanor and clothing. The two seemed to know each other. They spoke for a moment, then the girl babbled some excuse and, with another flashing smile, disappeared with the man into the crowd, bouncing away as quickly and effortlessly as she had come. Disgruntled, the Nuit stared after her, then shook her head and looked back to Leda.

"St-Strange," she said, but the relief was evident in her voice. She had not really liked the idea of heading out into the crowds and prolonging this visit to the busy Bazaar. "I-- I wonder what... that... was about?" The girl had not seemed threatened by the young man, and they had looked enough alike that he might have been a brother or cousin, perhaps. Isolde could only conclude that the girl was fine, just naturally fickle.

Forgetting, now, after the distraction what they had been talking about before --and forgetting, too, some of her customary nervousness-- the Nuit turned back to Leda. Without really thinking, still looking in the direction that the strange girl had vanished, Isolde spoke. "I-Is... that what it's, uh, always like? Meeting the people who come... to your b-booth. There, and-- and then just gone, so fast?"

OOCEdited Dahlia out from necessity. I took a look at her character sheet. I don't know if this is in keeping to her charrie, but the young man is supposed to be her brother. He lives in town as a squire, I believe, so it's not unrealistic that he might come to her for something. Hopefully that's alright. ^^'