Flashback The New & the Unfamiliar (Farris)

[Erienne]

79th of Spring, 515AV
17 Bells

She stepped delicately onto the glider, one hand lightly balanced on a muscular arm, as she allowed herself to be ‘assisted’ by one of the men responsible for piloting the craft from Ravok proper to the Floating Botanicals. Before removing her hand, she aimed a brilliant smile into his swarthy, bearded face. “Thank you, kind sir,” if her tone was flirtatious, it was unintentional; though only 17, Eri had studied men and women enough to have seen how well flirting could work to her advantage. If a man thought she was attractive, or at all interested in him, he could be coaxed into conversation, and she might hear something interesting if she only listened long enough.

“Oh, its no problem, miss,” the man offered. Eri felt a hand at her back as the man guided her a few steps further onboard. “Watch your step, here. Mind the net,” his voice was over-solicitous, and the hand at her back had been joined by another at her elbow. “Name’s Oten. Is this your first trip to the Botanicals?”

Eri resisted a small chuckle as she extricated herself from his grasp. Normally this was exactly the sort of reaction she hoped for, but this evening she simply wanted to wander through the Botanicals. And maybe spot a secret tryst, or two, Rhysol willing. Secrets could be collected anywhere. Taking a few steps away from the man, she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’ve been several times. Quite extraordinary, isn’t it? And its supposed to be just like real places. Can you imagine? I mean, the trees…”

Her voice trailed off with a breathlessness that wasn’t entirely feigned. The aviary of the floating botanicals was her favorite section; she loved being surrounded by the tall and reaching branches of the trees, with their flocks of colorful birds chirping and singing overhead. Amazing to think that they were so plentiful outside of Ravok – in the city, the tallest plant Eri had seen had been growing in a box on someone’s balcony.

“But I won’t keep you here talking, Oten, you’ve been so helpful. I’m sure the trip will be a breeze, with you at the helm,” she simpered sweetly. “My grandparents are just over there, and I should go join them before they get worried.” The older couple on the far side of the glider were no relation to her at all, but Oten would have no way of knowing that. With a parting smile, Eri wound her way toward the strangers, and stood as close as common courtesy allowed, leaving Oten to return to the business of moving the boat.

The ride was pleasant, and she enjoyed the view from the front of the netted passenger deck, reveling in the early evening breeze ruffling through her hair. The only downside, she reflected, was that the wind was playing with the conversations of her fellow passengers, bouncing them around so that she only caught snippets of this and that. The only conversation she heard clearly was that of her ‘grandparents’ (Ettir and Rhea), and how they hoped the reflection pools weren’t crowded.

Won’t be crowded by me, came Eri’s unspoken assurance as the glider pulled alongside the dock. The small crowd of passengers began to move off the boat as one, and she slipped into the middle, hoping to avoid further conversation with Oten. She could see him standing a short distance away, and gestured to the elderly couple with a small, helpless shrug as she followed them off the boat and down a stretch of dock that led to the reflecting pools, by way of the aviary. A few short feet from the boat, it was easy to lose herself in the crowd of entertainers, peddlers, and opportunists plying their trades, and Eri did so, breaking away from Ettir and Rhea and turning her steps toward the netted canopy of the aviary zone.

Pathways meandered through the exhibit, and Eri had travelled many of them. This evening, she chose one that she knew well, having discovered it by chance on one of her first visits to the Botanicals. At its furthest point, the path ended in front of a small, shaded pond where she’d often seen small groups of birds bathing and frolicking. It was breathtaking, the way they dipped and dived, little sparkling drops of water falling from their feet back to the pond below. She hated sitting still, but watching the birds was almost like dancing herself. Eri fairly skipped down the paths, boots lightly touching off of stone and wood in her hurry to get to the pond. A breathless few chimes later, she burst around a bend in the path and pulled up short, frowning.

Someone was sitting at her bench.

And he wasn’t even watching the birds.

What a waste.

Still, it didn’t need to be a wasted opportunity. Approaching at a more sober pace, Eri’s lips curved into a small smile. “Hello! Do you mind if I join you?” The man didn’t exactly look like he wanted company, but Eri considered that a triviality. He may have wanted quiet time, alone, on her bench.

But what he was getting was conversation with Eri. She was curious.

[Farris]

Farris was unsure of just how long he'd been aboard the barge that was the Floating Botanicals, but the visit wasn't serving his purpose in the slightest. The first night Farris had arrived in his home to find that his father wasn't there, he wasn't surprised. The older mage was just the sort to come to a place like the Botanicals, letting hours waste away as he mused upon what lesson to bring home. Farris. on the other hand, never found himself wanting to set foot here. He'd always believed it boring, his time spent at the docks or at the taverns. Words spilled somewhat easily from Farris' lips and often enough, he used his tongue to accomplish one goal in particular. Pleasures were sweeter in Rhysol's city, with the base wants and needs of the flesh easy to find and satisfying to the senses. Often enough the bearded Ravokian didn't find trouble in getting what he wanted, but that desire waned as worry and eventual rage festered within him.

The mage was intelligent enough to know what might have happened. Farris' father practiced his faith for years within Ravok in secrecy, taking excursions outside of the city in order to breathe his worship of Sagallius. It was explicit that the worship of other Gods was prohibited in Ravok, and while Farris was content to bask in the glory of Rhysol, his father clearly was not. Did he pay the price for his blasphemy? The thought seemed incredibly likely, for just days before his disappearance he'd been outed in public, carrying a totem representing the God of Puppetry, Sagallius. Farris was horrified to learn of his father's exposure and more than once encouraged the man to hide away before his inevitable disappearance. The reality that the older mage was gone hit him brutally. Was it the Ebonstryfe that came for him? The Ravokian populace itself? More and more, Rhysol's beautiful city was growing ugly, Farris' impression of it growing grimmer. Seated upon a bench in the Floating Botanicals, Farris appeared unkempt. His dark brown hair was long and kept down, framing his face with thick curls. His beard, normally trimmed and groomed carefully was let to grow. He'd look a sight, his eyes void and filled with misery. The misery encroached his thoughts until they were interrupted and dispersed.

Farris hadn't noticed anyone's approach and the voice that spilled over his senses caused his chin to raise. Cold, gray eyes looked over the woman as she posed her question. The mage raised his hand to let her join him, moving over somewhat reluctantly. There were other benches in the Botanicals and surely, the woman could find them if she so chose. But, Farris was sociable by nature and in truth, craved the company of another to pull him out of the gloom that blanketed his mind.

"I suppose it's fine," he offered, his lips rather difficult to see behind his beard. He offered a bare glimmer of a smile, a hand rising to stroke at his beard as if he decided to care, for a moment about his current appearance. He shifted another foot, providing Erienne with sufficient space to sit comfortably. At last, Farris' gaze found itself rising higher than the ground. Birds were plentiful, their coos and squawks creating a sort of music within the living barge they were situated upon. The mage found it difficult to work his jaw further. There was no peace within the man, who found it impossible to conceal what befell him. Clearly, he was a man in grieving, his posture hunched forward, his stare empty with heavy bags visible beneath his eyes. Sleep eluded the mage, who found himself looking over his shoulder in the night. He waited for the day the Ebonstryfe came for him, even if he wasn't sure that they were at fault.

The woman beside him, if she chose to take a seat, struck Farris as one who visited the Botanicals often. She seemed insistent on sitting exactly where he was and he didn't believe his current appearance to be worthy of attention. Thus, it stood to reason that she merely enjoyed the view provided at this position. Was Farris interrupting her from enjoying herself? The mage considered standing, but let the thought pass by without action. Curiosity was present upon the girl's expression, her gaze fixed upon him and not looking onward to the greenery surrounding them. He wondered what about him might strike her, and was, in turn, rather intrigued to know the answer.

"Not to be rude, but is there a reason you came to this bench? I wasn't expecting company... Still not sure if I want it," he told her. His expression was neutral, his gaze trained upon her as he sought an answer. The mage didn't make an effort to move, finding himself comfortable. For now, anyway.

[Erienne]

“Thank you.” Not at all fazed by the lack of enthusiasm in the man’s reply, she planted herself in the space he’d made. For awhile, she sat in silence, studying first the man, and then the birds, as indecision warred within her. Which Eri would be best?

He was disheveled, her unexpected companion. Dark hair curled around a face partially obscured by a beard definitely in need of a trim, and despite herself Eri wondered what he looked like without it. Beards were secretive, intentional, a disguise whether the wearer meant for it to be or not. And the eyes – they were inconstant, sometimes windows to the soul and other times careful guardians of a person’s most private thoughts. But this man’s eyes simply held desolation, unguarded and bare enough to make her flinch.

Eri turned her own eyes away at the man’s question, cowardice in the movement as she sought out the birds she’d come to watch. The recent flurry of movement and conversation had spooked them, and they had taken wing, amidst clucks and coos and other birdy chatter, alighting in the branches above the pond. His tone belied the haunted look in his eyes, another contradiction, another mystery, and she made a rash decision. Almost-real Eri.

If he were observant, the man might notice the subtle shift, from open and curious to a more calculated study. Eri had no intention of peppering the man with insincere flirtation, or vapid nonsense. To do so, she felt, would be an insult to the emotion he had brought to the aviary, and unworthy of them both. So her answer, when it came, may have been unexpected, but it was real.

“You don’t. Want my company, that is,” the words slipped out quietly, almost whispering through the air, accompanied by a nearly imperceptible rise and fall of one slim shoulder. “I came here because, if you’re very still and quiet, the birds will descend onto this pond in groups, and the way they splash and flick the water around is beautiful. As close to dancing as you can get – short of dancing.”

One brave bird, as if to illustrate the truth of her statement, had flown back down to the water’s edge. It was a tiny thing, covered in delicate, iridescent green feathers, a pair of beady black eyes peered from the feathery face to the two interlopers on the bench. Eri supposed the bird thought of it as its own, and the idea of the bird being as incensed as she had been brought a ghost of a smile back to her face. Tentatively, watching them all the while, the bird dipped his head down to the water, wetting first one side and then the other, before hopping back a few inches. His chattering sounded like censure, and was answered from above with a brief, but fervent chorus from his friends.

“I haven’t seen them do it anywhere else.”

Slowly, hoping not to startle the creature, she turned in her seat, pulling a foot up on to the bench beside her and facing the man fully. Blue eyes locked with gray and this time, Eri was ready for the sorrow she was expecting to find, but the man’s expression was shuttered. Neutral curiousity had taken the place of the earlier naked grief and the woman was both relieved and intrigued anew. The man had secrets, pain, and the presence of mind still to hide them away as needed. She was glad she’d forced her company on him. Would he give up his secrets?

Almost-real Eri wasn’t shy, and the question left her lips without hesitation. “And you? You’ll forgive my noticing, but you don’t look as though you planned a pleasure trip today.” It was an understatement, and easily recognizable as such. But shy or not, Eri wouldn’t bring herself to the point of outright rudeness; she hoped a few gentle prods would open the man up. She settled back against the bench, resting her arms across her upraised knee and watched the man patiently. With no timeline but her own, there was no need to push aggressively. For now, the stranger seemed content to share a bench and possibly some conversation. It was a start.