Riches and Rags (Valerius)

[Kit Rowan]

Day 16, Season of Summer, 513 AV

Cities outside of Alvadas could be dull, Kit knew. No matter how long passed their roads stayed in the same place and their alleys bordered the same buildings. It demanded a different sort of thinking than the faith and little omens that allowed Kit to make her way around her home without much trouble. Instead, her navigation relied on finding ways and paths through the static city that she could rely on. The Ravosalas were always an option, but when possible Kit preferred not to rely on them; even the coppers they wanted as tips were treasures, and Kit did not want to take the risk of what might happen if she did not tip them. So she explored other avenues of travel.

Mostly? Vertical ones.

Kit was still holding up an illusory self, skin tone borrowed from a shy quarter-Benshiran she had ran with as a child, the soft features she'd seen in a pretty foreign girl she saw a child who'd stuck in her mind after she left home and the blandest brown hair she could dream up. She clamored up the steep roof of a building and stood at its peak, peering out over the city. Ravok was divided into places of different design, built, Kit supposed, at different times and different ways. She preferred the oldest ones, lashed together with rope that she could balance across to spite the canals.

She had made the mistake of trying to find a straighter line to the market from where she'd been, and found herself in a place with newer—or maybe nicer?—buildings, held in place by magic or machinery or clever engineering or the will of a dark god; Kit did not know and could scarcely bring herself to care. What it really meant was she needed to find another way.

Kit clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she scanned the rooftops, picked out a near one, this time with a graciously flat roof. She stepped off her perch and took three long, precarious steps down the side and leapt. But the roof had been steeper than she anticipated, and it stole the strength from her jump.

She'd wanted to land on the roof, graceful and without issue. Instead she found herself facing the wall and reached up, barely managed to seize the lip of the roof before she plummeted down into the streets—she looked over her shoulder and grimaced at her mistake—into the water down below.

She counted to five and heaved, not quite pulling herself over. Counted again, tired again, and this time was enough. She crawled up onto the next roof and brushed off her arms and pants. She needed sturdier clothes if she was going to keep this up . . . Too bad she couldn't actually afford it. Kit grimaced and muttered something foul. She sneezed quietly, once.

Luckily, the next few roofs were about on the same plane, and sloped gently enough to make running and leaping more effective. Kit made the dash across the roof and again hoped no one would find the pitter-patter of her feet enough cause to get out and look up, vaulted over one roof onto the next, and the next, and the one after that, her loping sure and graceful even against the uneven slopes of roofs meant to brush falling rain away to the side. She did not stop moving as her last jump brought her to what she recognized as a familiar stretch of canal; walking from there would be easier, she thought. Kit made another vault, this time over the walkways on the side of the canals, eight feet below at least. That kind of fall could really hurt, taken wrong.

But Kit had learned how to make falls matter not so much. She hit the ground in a roll, spreading out the impact of the landing over the whole of it, letting her body absorb the pressure in a long moment it could handle easily, rather than a short one that might break it. She stood up and scratched at the back of her head. Where too now? Kit had precious little time to explore Ravok, and even less. Perhaps she had imagined the familiarity? Now that she was down by the canals, Kit was unsure of where she was.

"Trickster take my eyes," She murmured, quiet but sharp. Kit bit down on her lip. She couldn't get lost! Every bell was precious. Except, of course, she had gotten lost. She ran a hand over her face, but when she looked up she was still in the same damn place.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

As far as Valerius Nitrozian was concerned, all the cities outside of Ravok were dull. There was no better place in all of Mizahar. Even Zeltiva where he had gone to university couldn’t compare. He’d enjoyed it there, but the people of Zeltiva refused to see Rhysol’s truth. In Ravok the weather was always pleasant due to his god’s intervention, inferior creatures like Kelvic were what they were supposed to be – slaves and test subjects – and anybody who didn’t worship Rhysol with all his heart was automatically suspicious. It was wonderful. Now that summer had arrived Valerius spent more time outside of the Nitrozian Estate. When his work at the KRI allowed it, he would step into a ravosala and visit his favourite places in the city, Yae Varone’s, the Pit or even the Institute of Higher Learning. Today the first was his destination. He was in the mood for a cup of the owner’s famous coffee. Of course he did not drive the ravosala himself, one of the numerous slaves of House Nitrozian did. Valerius was in the back of the boat, looking at the houses and watching the people on both sides of the canal while the slave did all the work. The Nitrozian’s appearance was only almost impeccable today, he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, he wasn’t wearing a jacket, and he only had his second most expensive pair of boots on. Today he had decided to do something that he rarely did: relax and be slightly lazy, at least for a handful of bells. Even a Nitrozian needed some time off sometimes. At first he had thought it was just a trick of the light, but no, that couldn’t be. Valerius Nitrozian wasn’t deceived by such simple things as the light. He had seen somebody jump from roof to roof. He furrowed his brow as he thought about the implications of this. Was that person a thief? An escaped Kelvic? A circus performer? He had no particular love for any of the three groups, but still … „Stop!“ he called out to the ravosalaman. „I wish to get off here. Wait for me though. I will be back within a few chimes!“ As soon as the ravosala had reached the edge of the canal, he jumped out of it to watch the strange figure on the rooftops from close by. She – he had the impression that the figure was female – was quite agile. He had never seen anybody move like that before. As she jumped down, the normally cool and almost emotionless Nitrozian made a small sound of surprise, and then he decided to approach her before she could climb onto another roof. „You there!“ he called out to her. „What were you doing on the roof?“

[Kit Rowan]

Kit jumped like a startled cat at the exclamation and peered backwards over her shoulder like a child caught thieving. She found the man a little behind her; her eyes ran over his garb; expensive, she'd wager. Maybe he was wearing more wealth out for a walk than Kit had to herself in that moment at all. She felt a sudden, vicious stab of jealousy. Either he really was important or he would really really like to be.

Little wonder there were so few ropes binding things together over here, she realized; she'd had the misfortune of falling into the good part of town, where they could afford better than lashings of twine. She should have known. Should have spotted it and avoided places where a rooftop leaper might result in more than a raised eyebrow and a story told in a pub later that night. But people with a lot of wealth to their name didn't really like it when someone stirred their pool. Maybe this one had heard her steps on his roof and decided to do something about it?

Strictly speaking, she hadn't done anything wrong, unless Ravok had some rules on moving about in high places that she was not aware of. Which was . . . She supposed . . . Entirely possible. But still, she was fine. Kit rolled her bird's tongue out from beneath her tongue to the back of her throat where it could disguise her natural voice. Oh Trickster help her, what to say, what to do . . . Kit turned to face the popinjay and tried a smile. "Not going anywhere . . ." What do I call him? ". . . Sir. Just wanted to take a trip above the city, is all. I don't like relying on the Ravosalas all the time, and sometimes it's faster to move in a straight line."

Was it suspicious? It was the truth but that didn't mean that he wouldn't find it suspicious and ruin everything. Kit started walking toward the man, let her shoulders fall, tilted her head to the side and in general tried to look as nonthreatening as possible. "Is that a problem? I can stop doing it here, if you'd like." She said, with no intention of setting foot in this neighborhood again. Kit settled at a closer distance and prayed to Ionu that she wouldn't give the game away and let him learn that there was anything wrong about her.
x

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Of course“, Valerius replied sarcastically as the .. woman? … girl? … told him that she had just wanted to take a trip above the city. He made a step towards her so that he could see her better, a gesture that she might find slightly threatening. She was not unappealing, he decided. Her hair was a boring, dull shade of brown, but her features were soft, and she was quite agile. It was obvious that she was not from here though. There was a hint of something foreign about her, but the things she said betrayed her even more than her looks. „It’s after all quite normal for people to walk across roofs as if they were streets. Did it not occur to you that you might fall down and die? Did it not occur to you that people might find your behaviour suspicious and assume that you are a thief or something worse? You should be glad that I didn’t simply call the Ebonstryfe.“ Valerius voice was cold. He didn’t like people that stood out in any way. He always tried his best to conform and meet the expectations of those around him. Everything else was unacceptable. „You …“ he began, but he broke off abruptly. He had been about to tell her to stop, but she hadn’t done anything illegal … yet. He couldn’t just drag any random stranger to the Ebonstryfe and demand that they torture them and throw them into their prison. He needed more information about her. „Are you human?“ he wanted to know. „I’ve never seen a mere human jump around like that. How did you do it?“

[Kit Rowan]

Kit felt something squeeze her stomach. She had always been very casual about finding her way across rooftops. It was clear to her; the Popinjay was comfortable here. He was at home here. If he found her escapades somehow threatening, how many others might have? Was it the paranoia of the rich, perhaps, or something Ravokian in general? Gods above, the last thing she needed was to draw needless scrutiny.

Whoever this was, he hadn't called the Ebonstryfe on her already, though. That was something.

A shadow cracked over Kit's false modesty, the corner of her mouth twisting down and eyes narrowing just so. "Yes. I'm human." A little bit of the truth to temper the lie, maybe? "I grew up in Alvadas with some performers, when I was little. They helped teach me how to make whatever I needed to perform, and more. That's all. Training. Not some inhuman . . ." Kit struggled visibly to find a word. ". . . Cheat!" There was more force behind the assertion than Kit had meant. How long had she cultivated this skill, this body of hers, just to have some popinjay walk along and assume it a trick of her birth!

Kit breathed in. Gods. Her big mouth.

She spread her hands, hoping to bury her little outburst by moving the conversation on to other things. "I'm no thief, and I've nothing with an edge on me except my belt knife, and it's not cut anything but fruit in my life. I swear I meant nothing ill."
x

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Good“, Valerius remarked as she said that she was indeed human. A human that acted in a strange and suspicious manner was better than a Kelvic or some other unnatural creature that did the same. There was still hope for humans. „I have never been to Alvadas“, he admitted. „But I have heard strange things about it. Is it true that the city …“ He stopped for a moment as he thought about the right way to describe it. „… changes?“ „You are a performer then.“ That explained how she could jump from roof to roof. She had likely been doing that for most of her life. He didn’t have a particularly high opinion of performers, but they were fun to watch every now and then and could even be mildly useful. „Have you never thought about using your training for something other than jumping around on the roofs of Ravok? You could make money with it. I know quite a few people who would be willing to pay to watch you, who could use somebody with your skills, for a variety of different reasons. Wouldn’t that be preferrable to eventually ending up in prison because somebody thinks you are a thief?“ As she insisted that she was not some inhuman cheat, Valerius nodded. They seemed to have a similar opinion in regards to other races. It was rare that somebody of this woman’s social standing shared his views. That statement made him more inclined to believe her. Maybe he wouldn’t drag her to the Ebonstryfe, but try to find out if she could do more than just jump around instead. He didn’t have a performer working for him yet. All Melenna could do was sit there and sing and play the harp. Somebody who moved across the roofs of Ravok so effortlessly had potential.

[Kit Rowan]

"Whenever you turn your head," Kit said, in comfortable ground speaking of the city of her birth. "Streets never lead to the same places and shops are never on the same corner. Sometimes it will snow in the middle or summer, or blaze hotter than today in Winter, as suits Ionu's caprice." Kit talked with her hands, weighing summer against winter on imaginary scales and making gestures down the street-canals as demonstrations of what it wasn't.

"Nothing is ever, ever what it seems in Alvadas. Sometimes it's wonderful, sometimes it's terrible, but it's always beautiful." Kit said caught herself smiling and bit it back. What Ravokians she had met seemed certain that there was no city in the world that could rival Ravok. Best not to say enough to let her let on on that she thought hers a better one.

The popinjay, strangely, didn't seem all that upset by her outburst. Maybe Ravokians didn't care about bragging? Perhaps pride was a vice that she could afford to indulge in?

Kit shifted from foot to foot as the Popinjay made his suggestions. She crossed her arms and eyed the rich man carefully. She had been wary of performing since her escape. She was a busker. It was what Kit did, what she had always done, and her old master knew that. Just a whisper of a diminutive girl doing acrobatics on the street would send him running, maybe with the Ebonstryfe at his back if they could convince them to help.

Course, her other options for finding employment were . . . Well. Kit had been terribly afraid that she wouldn't have a choice. But now . . .

"I can imagine," Kit said, leaning back. "Prison seems like it'd be so confining."

Kit smelled opportunity. Was this man throwing these questions to her cause he was genuinely concerned about her well-being? Ha. These were fishing questions. Whoever ran in this popinjay's circles would be rich, and have her perform in nice safe places where her former master would never ever hear about her.

Half of busking was giving the audience what they wanted, to make them more generous; she tried to borrow that energy here, have her puffed-up friend a big smile that Kit hoped said I am listening to you and value your feedback. "There's nothing I'd like more than to perform," she said, and was not lying. "But I haven't been in Ravok for very long, and I hadn't the slightest clue where to start."

"If you know anyone who'd want an acrobat, that's great!" Kit said, stress testing his allowance for pride. "You can tell them they can look as long as they like, but they'll never find anyone better than me."
x

[Valerius Nitrozian]

A very light frown was visible on the Nitrozian’s pale face as the girl informed that the streets in Alvadas never led to the same place. He wasn’t sure if he liked that. Valerius preferred order. He preferred a city where everything was in the place it was supposed to be and where Ionu didn’t hold any influence. Rhysol was indefinitely preferrable to the trickster. “Beautiful?” he asked, and she could hear a hint of doubt in his words. “I doubt that it is more beautiful than Ravok. Few places in this world are.” “Prison is supposed to be confining”, he informed her in a very serious tone of voice. Unlike Kit he didn’t shift from foot to foot. He didn’t fidget. He stood still, with his back straight. He didn’t smile either. Valerius had very little sense of humor, besides he was worried that smiling too much would harm his carefully cultivated reputation. “There would be no point in putting people there otherwise.” “I might need an acrobat myself, somebody to provide me and my guests with a little entertainment”, he admitted and looked her over again. As he had observed before, she was acceptable looking, but he owned slaves that were far more appealing and impressive than she was. If she was good enough, she would still be useful though, and he would make sure that she worked for House Nitrozian before any of the other families found out about her or decided that she was a criminal and tried to get rid of her. “Although I doubt that there really isn’t anybody that is better than you. What else can you do? Can you be quiet as well? And fast? If I told you that you had to reach your destination within a certain timeframe, without anybody noticing you, could you do it?”

[Kit Rowan]

The doubt in the Popinjay's voice irked her. In Alvadas Kit had walked a road made out of what seemed to be starlight, watched color rain from the skies, seen performers whose bodies seemed to warp from one thing to another in a discordant harmony as she watched. She had half a mind to tell him of these things, but again bid her tongue to stillness.

He wasn't giving her anything to work with; no warmth in the man at all. It was like a candelabra had taken up permanent residence in his rear. Kit's smile floundered, soured and faded. She chewed on her lip and stared up at the Nitrozian with the expression of a child who'd realized a puzzle was missing its last piece. Anger at least she had a baseline for working with. She had a brief mad urge to reach up, shake the man and tell him to feel dammit.

Kit brushed a bead of sweat from her brow and swallowed. Damn Tavasi it's hot. Her mind told her to say she was quiet as a mouse and quick as a hare, but her tongue got tangled at the sight of Valerius' cold eyes and a spike of fear brought the truth. "I can do fast and I can do it without anyone knowing me, but there's somewhere between the two I'd have to settle on."

She breathed, realized what her tongue had done and tried to salvage it. "Though either way, I'd imagine that word wouldn't get around so much. Ravosalamen like to talk, and I wouldn't be using them. And . . ." Kit eyed Valerius " . . . Usually people don't bother looking up. There's a reason thieves love rooftops." She was very rusty at actually getting around a city without getting found. Kit's childhood had been filled with it, but she worried that maybe she'd lost the touch. Rich boy didn't need to know that though.
x

[Valerius Nitrozian]

“Stealth then”, he decided. “Stealth is even more important to me than speed is.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he was doing the right thing or if she should just let her be after all and wait for the Ebonstryfe or somebody else to get her and lock her up somewhere. No, he wouldn’t let a potentially useful person go, even if she had the strangest habits. “Ravosalamen do indeed like to talk”, he confirmed, again frowning very lightly. Valerius often used the ravosalamen to find out about the newest rumours, but at the same time he was very aware that he could become the subject of one of those rumours as well. He didn’t want to be talked about, in a negative way at least, and he also didn’t appreciate it when the ravosalamen tried to pass the time with pointless small talk and information he couldn’t use in any way. “It’s one of their biggest flaws – and one of their most useful traits.” „Most people don’t“, he agreed. as she said that people usually didn’t bother looking up „But I’m not most people. I always look everywhere so that I don’t miss anything – or anybody. In my opinion a man who doesn’t look behind him or above him is a careless fool.” Valerius noticed the way she looked at him, but he didn’t say anything to her nor did he react to her look in any other way. Neither did the heat seem to bother him. Valerius was as comfortable as if it were a pleasant spring day. In his opinion wiping his face all the time, walking around half naked or showing any kind of discomfort was simply unacceptable. “So …” he began after he had simply looked at her for a few moments. “Are you interested in giving me another demonstration of your skills? There might be a place for you in House Nitrozian if I’m suitably impressed – and a certain amount of golden mizas.”