[Event- 39th: Of Being] Evening's Evaluations [Aislyn]

by **Kaleidoscope** on April 17th, 2016, 11:24 am

39th Spring, 516 AV
A plaza somewhere in Alvadas
19th bell

It had been grey all day so far in Alvadas, although now the clouds were lifting, just in time for darkness to fall. Small cracks in the sky let the light of an early rising Leth occasionally illuminate the city. A caress of moonlight cast shadow over a building that stood on the edge of a plaza. It was a tall one, similar in shape to three others that all overlooked each other. The buildings near to it were houses, their curtains and shutters now drawn to close out the night. The soft light of candles and lanterns sometimes filtering through to illuminate the stone cobbles under their windows.

No light warmed the stones of the building that stood alone, though. It stood slightly crooked, with no obvious door to get into it. The windows were grimy and caked shut with filth. Dark curtains and gloom obscured the interior. It was isolated from its neighbours by a small gap, as if the other houses felt disgusted by being in its presence. Three stories up on the top floor was a balcony, with a rusting, green-painted iron fence tentatively separating the sky from the floor. Its roof was missing tiles with some laying undisturbed on the balcony, and its chimney had a large nest of some kind perched precariously on it, with the occasional bird flying to and fro.

It had been an exhausting day for the woman who stood on the balcony. She was tall, with dark hair and pale skin. Her dress, artfully dramatic and made of some kind of dark crimson crimped material, was a lot less neat than when she'd first stepped onto the balcony that morning.

She was alone for a moment as the last person she'd been talking to gave up convincing her, his parting words being, "And you can do whatever you want! Ridiculous...". The woman slumped against the edge of the balcony, and coughed to clear her throat. It echoed in the plaza below, and she looked thoughtfully out across the darkened street as a patch of light perfectly illuminated her crown of dark hair cascading in waves around her face.

by **Aislyn Leavold** on April 17th, 2016, 7:27 pm

39th of Spring, 516 AV

The grey of the evening sky was a sort of welcomed escape for Aislyn. Alvadas had very little variation when it came to ‘regular’ weather, excluding any sort of oddities that came with Alvadas being more illusion than actual city, but when the sun did shine, it shone bright. And bright light, on Aislyn’s list of things she was not a fan of, was fairly high up. She’d come to be used to it, after twenty-some years of squinting every time she stepped outside, but it still bothered her when she thought about it. That’s why she enjoyed the clouds and the seclusion of night so much. An evening stroll with the weather like that was, of course, called for.

And stroll the artist did, taking with her a light bag with her notebook, waterskin, and not much else. On her way out the door, her mother had tried to push some bread into her hands to take with her. Which would have been a welcomed gesture, should the loaf had not been several weeks old and more green than brown. Aislyn had, of course, accepted the gift happily, though it had become bird food the moment she was out of her mother’s sight.
Instead, she opted for a much fresher loaf from a salesman just closing shop, along with a few pieces of honey candy. She had never been one for sweets, but perhaps her mother would like it.

As she walked along, the stillness of the streets allowed her a moment to relax. She had missed these streets, during the chaos of the previous season. She still had occasional bouts of fear that something grotesque and rather dead was going to jump out at her from behind a building, and often woke up in a sweat after a dream reliving the events. But it was alright. She had learned a lot from the events. Like how close death was at any given moment.

Looking up towards the sky, Aislyn found herself struck by a sudden oddity in the streets. A particularly tall building, that seemed to be barely holding itself up. Blackened and riddled with signs of age, it had the occasional jutting of a balcony, but not much else. And the height! Oh, imagine what she could see from up there. Probably the entirety of Alvadas, if she were lucky. Perhaps even farther. The Patchwork Port. The Suvan Sea. The hills and mountains surrounding the city she loved so dearly.
If she were honest with herself, such thoughts were probably nothing more than wishful thinking, but she could certainly hope.
And, certainly, find out.

She had climbed buildings before, but she didn’t even know where to start with this one. All the buildings around it seemed to keep it at an arm’s length, not to mention there was a distinct lack of any sort of entryway. That was unfortunate.
As she was scanning the building, however, something caught her eye.
Or, rather, someone. A woman, looking down from a balcony on the top level of the building. Surely, she had found a way up. And from the look of the elegant outfit she donned, it wasn’t by climbing. An easier way, perhaps.

Moving to the center of the plaza, Aislyn watched as another man left the area in a rather angry manner, leaving the place very empty and very… quiet.

Silently, Aislyn entered the center of the plaza, filling the emptiness. She questioned why the man had been there at all, but even greater why he had left in such a huff. The woman didn’t seem like a malicious type, but looks could certainly be deceiving. Speaking of which, it seemed the dark shape was looking everywhere but down where Aislyn was, instead gazing off into what must have been an amazing view.
There was a sadness about her. A sadness that seemed almost hopeless; always, hopeless.

It spoke of something. Something that Aislyn was rather familiar with. Surely, this couldn’t be what she thought it was. There was such a grace with the way the woman stood, but a weight there as well. It was strange how clearly the artist could make out her features. Wherever moonlight did work its way through the cloud cover, it almost caressingly christened the shape of her face in the darkness of the night. Her hair fell freely, swept out from behind her by the wind. She really was beautiful.

"Excuse me," she spoke tentatively; still, as always, paranoid of what the situation could bring, "but how did you get up there?"

There was a very high possibility the woman was a beautiful illusion, and Aislyn wouldn't doubt it for a second if she turned out to be so. There had been more stunning things that Ionu had crafted, though a building and an entire person all at once seemed more rare. If a deity could turn a city upside down, inside out, underwater, in the air, who was to say what they couldn't do?

Ledger :

"Speech" - Thought

by **Kaleidoscope** on April 22nd, 2016, 12:37 pm

The other woman sighed softly, before slowly turned her head down to look at Aislyn. There was a brief spasm of surprise, and then nothing. For a few ticks, the woman busied herself brushing her hair from her face so as to better see Aislyn standing below. It was dark, but not overwhelmingly so, and the woman soon answered.

"It is my abode." She looked sideways at the balcony, and slowly pushed a twig from the railings to the ground below. Wistfully she followed it until it cracked sharply on the ground near to Aislyn. There was no malicious intent, and in fact the weight that she'd noticed in the woman seemed even greater as she slowly slid to sit on the floor, dirtying her dress without her even seeming to notice or even care.

"So, what brings you here? Come to laugh at me, or plead with me like the others? If so, I'm fed up of it, and you can go away. But if you've got something worthwhile to say, then please tell me." There were footsteps coming from a nearby street, and a Symnestra walked through the plaza, looking up with a sigh of recognition. Muttering under their breath, "Not here again.." until they noticed Aislyn. The Symnestra was female, and she walked closer, offering a scathing smile at the woman above.

"Oh, you're still here? Come onnn, make a decision already!" To Aislyn, she said, "This woman's been here since the morning." She sighed again, derisively and flipped her hair as if Aislyn would know what she was talking about. The lady on the balcony suddenly grabbed a nearby plant-pot and threw it down forcefully at the Symnestran, who yelped in surprise. "You shyke!"

by **Aislyn Leavold** on April 24th, 2016, 3:35 pm

39th of Spring, 516 AV

The positioning of the building and the plaza was almost too convenient; allowing Aislyn to hear the woman and the woman to hear Aislyn easily without straining either one’s voice. If the building had been following that position all day, Ionu must have, in some aspect, allowed it. Perhaps Ionu had seen the predicament the woman had presented herself in, and thus allowed her one more chance- an opportunity to speak, and be spoken to.
When the woman did say something, Aislyn listened silently. She didn’t mean to startle her, but it was getting rather dark. Had she been up there all day? It being her house, it wasn’t entirely outrageous; Aislyn would be hypocritical to say it was so. The only question was, again, how she got up and down.

At the suggestion that she was one more in a long train of attempted convincers, the artist was taken a bit aback. So she really had been up there all day, and others had come to speak to her before Aislyn. Presumably unsuccessfully, or even unhelpfully. Was the number of those who told her to jump the same as those who willed her not to? Was one side greater than the other?
”If you would like me to go, I can go.” She paused, tossing a glance over to where the woman swore she heard footsteps. The noise was amplified by the acoustics of the plaza, making the sound reverberate all around her.

When the Symnestra entered, Aislyn stepped back away from the center of the clearing a bit. She said nothing, hoping to avoid poking a fire that was clearly already burning. Further confirmation that the woman had been on the balcony for bells, possibly without rest. Had she not eaten?
When the strange woman threw the pot, and the Symnestra woman yelled back, Aislyn tried to regain what control of the situation she could. Ignoring the aggressive new figure, she spoke directly to the woman again.

”It seems you’ve a story to tell.” Another pause, this time for Aislyn to lower her backpack to the ground. She didn’t sit down quite yet, still holding onto hope that she could join the woman on her high-up perch. The half-Zith hadn’t quite decided her opinion on the woman. It would certainly be upsetting if she decided to jump, but it wouldn’t significantly impact her day.
That being said, it was rather disturbing seeing someone in the same position the artist had once been. If she did jump, it would be… Well, like reliving it.
Perhaps it might significantly impact her day.
Aislyn had survived, though. Perhaps this woman would, too. Granted, her building was higher, and her reasoning more unclear, but she did have something Lyn had not- someone convincing her not to jump.

”So you’ve been up there all day?” Trying her best to pretend there was no one else in the plaza, she concentrated on the way the woman’s hair caught the wind in the moonlight. ”Surely, you must be hungry.”

Offering the bread up where the woman could see, Aislyn tried to imagine what kind of story the woman might have, should she not be an illusion. She probably was, but the more illusion-y, the better, it seemed. Illusions were better than people, after all. Illusions didn’t ask many questions, they merely shared the story they were created to tell. Magical yarn didn’t tell others of the people they had seen. Flying fish didn’t ask you where you hailed from. Even when your shadow detached itself from your body, there was no forced interaction or cautious avoidance. It was like interacting with Alvadas itself. And, to a lesser extent, Ionu.
To top all of that off, illusions didn’t die from a three-story fall.

Aislyn really hoped the woman was an illusion.

"Speech" - Thought

by **Kaleidoscope** on May 10th, 2016, 3:26 pm

The Symnestran looks frustrated, and no surprise- her clothes were now stained with soil, and the shards of pot had landed at her feet rather dangerously. It had been a rather good shot, overall. However, she was on a mission, and soon strode off again, muttering all the while about no good losers until she was out of sight and earshot.

The square stood silent again, leaving Aislyn's question temporarily unanswered as the strange woman waited for the intruder to leave.

"A story to tell. Yes, I suppose in a sense, we all have a story to tell. A story of life. You must do too, stranger." However, she made no move to ask her what her story was, and didn't seem inclined to speak about her own life. "Some bread would be appreciated, although it's conversation I'm after."

A slight pause, and then a shake of the head. "No, not conversation. But do you want to join me?" She gestured to the balcony from her sitting position. "There's stairs around the side of my house, through the garden. A man broke in earlier so the door should be easy to get through..."

For a while, the woman was silent as she watched Aislyn. From her perspective, she seemed strange, mysterious. A figure cloaked in shadow. The dark-haired woman smiled. All day she had been beset by brightness, sunlight, artificial happiness and persuasion. This woman seemed... different somehow.

The house, if Aislyn chose to enter, lay in almost near-darkness. The windows were all covered with curtains or blinds, or boards, making it treacherous, and the small, wildly overgrown garden- an unusual appearance in Alvadas- lurked with shadow and briar and an unidentifiable creature hissing somewhere, like the leaking of steam from a spigot.

The woman herself, upon closer inspection, looked vastly more dishevelled than at first glance. Her face especially looked drawn and pale, and her dress was crumpled, despite its luxurious fabric.

OOC :

by **Aislyn Leavold** on May 15th, 2016, 1:12 am

39th of Spring, 516 AV

A story to tell. Aislyn had always loved stories as a child. She had been quite the storyteller herself, even. But things had changed, and Aislyn was one of such things. Perhaps “Maya” had a story. She had considered it before, but it was never more than a what if notion. The illusionist had never put true thought into what story her illusions told. If the woman asked her of her story, it was in her nature to dodge the question. But perhaps there was another solution, something not necessarily more truthful, but something that would seem like the truth. Then again, there was something about the situation- about the woman herself- that made outright lying seem like a less appetizing option. The earnesty, and something not like kindness- kindness was often deceiving- but something entirely honest.

Committing her directions to memory, Aislyn started toward the garden, immediately regretting her decision to pack lightly. It made it easier to maneuver, yes, but it also meant she carried no heavy weapons. Not that she was a fan of heavy weapons regardless, but she lacked her crossbow in the face of danger. Anxiety creeped up the back of her mind, but Aislyn made the executive decision to ignore it. She did have her newly-bought knife, attached to a sheath that was hidden by the low-hanging length of her shirt, but she wasn’t exactly highly trained in the small weapon. If the woman was an illusion, Aislyn would have liked to believe there was less of a danger, but after the events of the winter, she wasn’t so sure. Illusions could be just as physical as anything, not just pretty things to look at.

Facing down the garden, Aislyn tried to find a reasonable way to approach it. There weren’t any clear paths, the garden as a whole being terribly overgrown, but it wasn’t impossible. Slinging her backpack back onto her shoulders, Aislyn hoisted herself up on top of the fence, then over. Grateful for her boots, she began trekking through the foliage. Aislyn didn’t own anything that wasn’t long-sleeved and long-legged, making the possibility of some sort of rash-inducing plant attacking her slightly less of a problem. However, that didn’t mean there wasn’t some sort of Alvadas-esqe creature waiting for her. A hiss from somewhere to her right confirmed such suspicions, and Aislyn quickened her pace. Silently, the woman wished she had brought gloves. A barbed bush of some sort caught her sleeve, leaving light scratches on her palms as she untangled it. How did the woman get in and out, with a premises like this?
On the other side of the garden was, just as the woman had described, a door. It wasn’t locked, or at least it wasn’t at the moment. It appeared to have been forced open by someone who probably broke at least one bone in the attempt, considering the state of the door. The woman had said this was her home, had she not? How far had some people gone to stop her from jumping? It was no wonder she had reacted with such force against the taunting stranger. If those that had wanted to help her had gone so far, how far had those against her gone?

Pushing open the fractured door, Aislyn met the next obstacle. Which appeared, lucky for her, to be nothing alive. Darkness. Blinking at the room, the illusionist waited for her eyes to adjust, closing the door behind her and beginning to fumble about until she could see again. There were some perks to Zith blood, after all.
That being said, being half Zith didn’t help Aislyn when it came to maze-maneuvering. She was in a foyer, with quite a few doors on either side. The first one opened to a room with nothing but a chair in it. The next, a wall. The one opposite the first two opened to another hallway, with just as many doors.
Aislyn made the choice to explore the first room before she jumped into the next. There was several staircases in the room, of which Aislyn decided to choose the middle. At the top, a door, which, to the woman’s absolute delight, was another dead end. Her second choice of staircase led to a door that didn’t open at all.

Perhaps the woman wasn’t an illusion, but her house surely was. What pact with the woman made with Ionu to obtain such a place? She couldn’t have built it herself, could she? The woman wasn’t all that old, and the house certainly looked older than she. Had she inherited it, when it was already rundown? Aislyn had never seen the building before, and she had spent quite a bit of time on the streets of Alvadas. The third staircase opened with ease, leading to a strangely open second floor. Looking out a clouded and rather overly locked window, Aislyn spotted a sea of vines blocking her view of the ground. Her footsteps echoed on plain walls, creating the illusion of what sounded like several Aislyns making their way to the staircase in the center of the floor. One more floor, presumably.

At the top floor, Aislyn took a moment to appreciate the simplicity of the room, apparent living quarters of modest design, despite the spacious floor. The woman was the most luxurious thing about the place, though closer up she wasn’t quite as perfect as Aislyn had first thought. To the illusionist’s surprise, she looked… Real. No flowing, impossibly perfect hair falling in waves over her shoulders with the grace of a goddess. No imperfection-free skin of an unidentifiable race. She was covered with signs of anxiety, from her face to her clothes. Worry lines and unruly hair. Pale skin, leaps and jumps lighter than Aislyn’s own.
She was beautiful.
Approaching the balcony, Aislyn lightly stepped around the disheveled curtain, letting her bag drop to the ground in the arch of the doorway. There were so many things to say. For a moment, she hesitated; the illusionist was ever on the side of caution, but the woman's company was rather welcoming, surprisingly.

”May Ionu bless me with your name?”

OOCYou did indeed send me the details. Thank you for that, by the way!

"Speech" - Thought

by **Kaleidoscope** on May 27th, 2016, 6:22 pm

The woman twitched, apparently startled at the appearance of Aislyn, although she must have surely heard her ascent to the balcony. She moved, slightly, backing herself into the corner of the balcony, her back pressed between the crumbling brick wall and the rusting-orange railing. She sat on the floor, so that her dark dress gathered dirt.

"Ah, welcome. I'm Eleanor. And may I enquire your name, stranger? And advise that if you want to spout anger at me, then I will be more than happy to shove this branch in your eye. But for conversation, or some sort of company, then your presence is most welcome."

The woman faintly breathed, her chest rising and falling as she ran her slim fingers through her hair. It seemed easy to believe she'd been up there the whole day, there was a weariness that lay upon her, although whether that was from the strains of the day, or the longer strains of life was hard to say.

"I have a beverage here, if you would like some. It's not wine, merely water, but..." She shrugged, and then broke off her conversation. Her voice was a soft alto, not low, but mellow. In the silence, she nodded her head towards the floor opposite her, offering Aislyn to sit if she accepted. The spot she pointed out was the only other relatively clear space on the otherwise crowded balcony.

The balcony was crowded with an assortment of oddities. Plant pots filled with dead or dying plants lined the edge of the railing, whilst the centre contained a mass of twigs, branches and dried leaves, like the skins of a dead creature. A quarter-abandoned basket lay in the dead centre, but the branches of the plant it was made out of were frayed and snapped. The curtains that made the door of the balcony softly billowed in a breeze, and snagging on a spiked plant that curled up the side of the house, its leaves darkly razor-sharp. Eleanor didn't notice, or indeed bother to free it, seemingly un-bothered by the state of her house.

by **Aislyn Leavold** on May 29th, 2016, 2:46 pm

39th of Spring, 516 AV

Ah. So there was the catch.
At first taken aback by the woman’s forgetfulness, Aislyn quickly realized that there was much more left unseen to this woman. The moment the illusionist was out of sight, she was out of mind as well. The woman- Eleanor- was more forgetful than she herself.
”I… Apologize. You gave me directions to find my way up here; I spoke briefly with you from the ground.” Hesitating for a moment, Aislyn tried to find the best way to approach the situation. There was no clear answer, no obvious solution. But where would the challenge be in an easy puzzle? ”My name is Maya.”

Once again offering the bread towards the woman, Aislyn exchanged it for the water Eleanor provided. Though she didn’t yet drink, she accepted the invitation to sit beside the woman. At a sort of loss for words, Aislyn tried to formulate some sort of story behind why the woman would be here- where she came from- where her family was- anything at all. Her imagination could provide plenty of ideas, but no answers. The only thing to do was speak. Conversation. Not exactly Aislyn’s forte, but then again, she rarely had anyone to converse with anyways. ”You live here, then?”

Taking a look around, Aislyn let her eyes catch on every detail; the balcony was, after all, quite an interesting place. Plants in various sizes littered the scene, though they all had one commonality in the fact that none of them appeared to be living anymore. In a way, the sight seemed rather familiar. Whether the death of the plants was intentional or not, the garden bore a striking resemblance to the one that Aislyn’s mother cared for at home. Though that didn’t seem to be where the similarities stopped. The forgetfulness, and the lack of understanding… It was all very familiar; very personal.

”Do you like it here?” She paused, her question honest. She wouldn’t want to compliment the garden if Eleanor turned out to hate it, nor insult it if it was her prized possession. If she were truthful, Aislyn found the similarities to her mother both disturbing and homely at the same time, making her opinion on the living quarters very versatile, to say the least. ”How long have you been here?”

Confining herself to the questions she had already asked in an attempt not to overload the woman, Aislyn tried to look around for her answers instead. It wasn’t exactly impossible to believe that someone lived there. It was rather inviting, in fact, to have a home with no obvious entrance, far above the prying eyes of the city below. The view must have been spectacular at sunset, not to mention the fact that it must have just the slightest chance of being able to see the streets as they changed from above. It was very rare that Aislyn was ever high enough to see the streets of Alvadas from above, but she had convinced herself long ago that if she were able to see the streets, she must have been able to see them change. See the illusions in action, as it were.
In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she began to appreciate the place that Eleanor had created for herself. If one spent the time to fix the broken windows to keep out insects for the summer, or take a broom to the dirt on the floor, it would be the perfect little escape. So quiet, so beautiful, and so alone.
”It’s lovely up here, isn’t it?”

"Speech" - Thought

by **Kaleidoscope** on June 14th, 2016, 10:48 am

Eleanor took the bread with a mute nod of gratitude, and ate delicately, ripping it into small, bite-size chunks. It was only after she'd finished that she answered Maya with another nod. "Maya. Yes, I live here, for all my life." The woman smiled a little at her glances, before continuing. "I know it's a little... dilapidated, but what does it matter if the plants are dying, or if the room is messy?"

"The sight of the plants and the room goes into my eyes, and then I understand it like that. I'd be seeing them no matter whether they were dead or not, untidy or not. And there is a certain kind of beauty in a dead plant. It's browns and blacks instead of green, green, green. The way it seems to know that there's nothing to strive for, the fragmentary texture of the ashen soil... But yes, it is indeed lovely. But now tell me, why do you like it? The only people I've had as visitors didn't seem to pay it much heed, or indeed, well... They didn't seem to appreciate my abode as you do."

The woman finished her bread, and wiped her hands. A plant, as dead as she'd described lay in front of her. It was encased in a dark red terracotta plant pot, but Eleanor picked it up and carefully pulled out the plant and the soil surrounding it, placing it on the floor of the balcony before cleaning the inside of the pot. She listened to whatever Maya would say, before waiting for a pause.

"Here, have this. It's one of my favourites, and I probably won't be around to enjoy it for much longer, so you have it as you have shown at least some appreciation of this house." The plant pot was cold to touch, and on closer inspection seemed to be a bowl, rather than a plant pot, although it was filled with crumbs of old soil and cobwebs.

Eleanor glanced at it wistfully as she handed it to Maya, but gave a quick smile to disguise it as best she could. "Please, continue."

OOC :

by **Aislyn Leavold** on June 16th, 2016, 10:38 pm

39th of Spring, 516 AV

All her life.
Aislyn tried to imagine a child living in the broken down building, exploring the corners and playing games where the spiders crawled. Who had cared for her? If all her life truly was all her life, what nameless adult had cared for an infant in this home? Had the building aged with the woman, or had it been old from the start? Nodding at the explanation, Aislyn tried to transfer Eleanor’s words to the reasoning her mother always used. ’The plants are beautiful, are they not? Darling, I bet they'll bloom soon. I've been waiting so long for them to bloom.’
At least Eleanor accepted the fact that her plants were dead.

When asked her reasoning for appreciating the abode, Aislyn thought for a moment. She liked the freedom of having somewhere no one could reach. She liked the solitude, the stillness. To have somewhere entirely to yourself, high above the city… It was enchanting, exhilarating, even. To be able to simple observe, without the danger of being seen. That was freedom.

”I like the quiet. The solitude, above the city.” The illusionist got up from where she sat for a moment, moving towards the balcony for a look. The reflex feeling of vertigo at seeing the ground so far away seized her for a moment, but the height grew on her as she looked. She had never been this high, except for when Alvadas had become a valley and the caves had led to a view fit for the gods. But this, this was the Alvadas Aislyn had lived in all her life, as seen from above.

It was beautiful.

”To be allowed somewhere all of your own, away from the hassle of the city yet still surrounded by its beauty...”

In a strange way, Aislyn was comfortable around the woman. There were very few souls that produced such an air of serenity that the artist could appreciate. People who were at peace with silence, and who knew when conversation was not necessary. Not every moment had to be filled with words, after all. Sometimes it was better to just be.

”That’s what's so lovely about it.”

Turning away from the balcony, Aislyn pulled her bag over from where it lay in the crook of the arch, and returned to where Eleanor had offered her a seat. As she sat, the artist undid the straps and removed her sketchbook. She felt like drawing. Not just documenting, as she often did, but drawing. Whilst Eleanor cleaned out the plant pot, Aislyn took a dark piece of charcoal to the paper, outlining dark hair and light features on the page. The drawn skin on a small frame, the elegance ashened by anxiety and depression. The top of a flowing dress, covered in dust.

Once beautiful, now worn. No, no. 'once' was the wrong word. Still beautiful, despite the wear. To Aislyn, at least.

Absorbed in the drawing, it took the artist a moment to realize what was being offered to her when Eleanor pushed the plant pot towards her. Cautiously taking it into her hands, she ran her fingers over the cold material, listening as the other woman spoke. It was a dark, blood-like maroon red, and it was clearly well loved from use. For a moment, the artist stared at it, the heavy piece foreign in her hands.

”Thank you.” It took Aislyn a moment to register the depressing implications the woman’s words held. She wasn’t particularly surprised by it, nor disheartened. There were few people the artist knew to be as nihilistic as herself, and perhaps that was the reason Eleanor seemed to be such a kindred soul. The ‘probably’ in her phrasing was promising, though. It had been just a few chimes since Aislyn had stood at ground level, but her opinion on the woman had evolved drastically. If the conversation were to end, and the woman were to jump, so many questions would be left unanswered…
So the conversation would not end.

”You say you've been here all your life,” The woman couldn't have been that much older than Aislyn herself, could she? From appearance alone, they appeared to be about the same age. ”...but I've never seen this building before.” Aislyn had long ago convinced herself she’d seen everything Alvadas had to offer, but time and time again she'd been wrong. Examining the bowl, she came to the conclusion that this was one of such cases. ”I've never seen you before.”

"Speech" - Thought