The highlander had placed a crate on the table between him and the robed midlander. The cloth of her robes decorated by spare bits of metal here and there, clinging onto linen that shrouded her. A sword was slung on one side of her hip, a grimoire on the other, both looking a little worn. The hood of her robes were drawn back.Â
Grunting with effort he reached for the lid of the hardwood crate and swung it open for the midlander. In turn, a small smile danced on her lips. She reached over and grabbed one of the vials held by the crate, a sickly green liquid swirling inside the glass that she turned over and examined. All of the vials held within were arrayed neatly, kept in tidy little clusters of color that made it an organized listing of swatches, four colors in all, instead of a kaleidoscope of hues.
"I'm honestly impressed, Roland. I thought it'd take a little while longer to assemble what I asked for."Â
"Well, Allene, when you've got a wee little pup who thinks she can take the world on and not one whit of sense to dissuade her from her course. There's little and less that can stop a passionate woman like you."
She had brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear as the weathered and rugged highlander spoke. Crow's feet wrinkling the corner of his eyes, grey streaks upon a black messy nest of hair. He had spoken in fatherly tone. Allene slipped the vial back into the crate. He shut the lid over the crate. She placed a sack of gil over the box.
"And you, wee pup, can keep the gil. I got me a windfall and just used the excess to make yer order. Diluted banemite poison, now what could you possibly need this for?"
"My reasons are my own, old man."
"My my and you almost sounded like me daughter too. Thinkin she knows what's best. An' I know there are other methods to stop yer belly from growing. Ya don't need to chug any of this poison an' slowly kill yerself in the process."
She fell silent, slumping back against the rickety oak chair. Her lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed. Her gaze turning away from the worried highlander across the table. He scoffed and shook his head, the ratty greying nest dancing from side to side. Her attention was caught when she heard the heavy thud of her gil landing on the desk. It was almost thunderous.
"If'n yer that worried about a wee one intrudin on yer fun, there's always some alchemist who could 'ave a solution to yer problem. Ya don't need a retired poisoner to 'elp ya. An' more to the point, that other solution probably won't have ya dancin with death every time."
He held a finger over to her before she even spoke. A gesture so powerful in her contemplative state she had silenced herself rather easily.
"An' I know, yer not doin it fer the fun. No' completely anyway. Fer the gil. Scared that monetarist lackey ain't gon' be done with yer family even tho' ya paid. But ye've met the quota, ya paid the debt against all odds. Yer father's got both his legs back and yer mother's decided to sleep more. 'ells yer favorite little brother looks up to ye and the twins too."
He leaned over and reached for the sack, dropping it on her lap.
"Ya don't need to be so desperate this time. Look, yer not me daughter but it kills me to see ya come here bruised and wounded because the gil was good but the man was all flavors a cruel. Ya get a little more leeway to choose who you sell yer body to and what ya do with the earnins. 'Ells with yer father back at Nanawa Mines like nuthin ever happened, ya could let go of sellin yer body fer 'owever long it takes for another tragedy ta hit."
"And that's how I cope. Look, the only reason I haven't gone bald of the stress is because of that. A little outlet, a slave to my desires, and I get gil out of it too. My vice saved my family."
"And yer vice isn't masochism innit?"
"No."
"Thought so. I won't tell ya to stop, though I would like nothing more than to. Ye've yer mind set on it but at least leave summodat gil for better purposes. Not ones that get ya killed. I dun mind at all that you come to me for all manner of nasty things to shower yer blade in for that edge ya need, but when ya use it on yerself it's nuthin short of bafflin really.Â
H-hey. Allene? Allene!"
The highlander had stopped. He found it odd that the midlander was so uncharacteristically quiet as went about lecturing her. He found it odd that even with the tent flap open she was sweating like it was in the middle of the hottest day. He caught her just before her cheek decided it was a good idea to kiss the wood of the table.Â
Her body was almost limp in his arms and he'd feel the heat just seeping through the linen of her robe. He quickly moved her to the sole hammock within the confines of the tent he lived in. Quickly taking the sweat stained robe and shirt off her leaving her with her sleeveless hempen shirt and the leather skirt that hugged her waist after he had taken her boots off as well.Â
Just as he turned to leave the tent, he stopped when he'd hear her chuckling on the hammock, rushing over to see if the midlander needed anything he knelt down beside her on one knee.Â
"W-well didn't expect myself to collapse so easily after finding it so hard to sleep for the past...oh three days. Y'know how hard it is to find people to just...revel with you in your little victories. Odd how..no one, literally no one in Ul'dah was interested in the prospect of free drinks. Three day celebration of my triumph over the forces of debt collectors!"
She began to rant sooner or later. Allene was vaguely aware of another voice, female this time. Probably Roland's wife. She was aware how everything was inexplicably wet and hot and uncomfortable. Then it started to feel cooler and drier, a little more comfy, a little less scratchy.
A great lull that just felt like her worries evaporated.Â
Morning came, she pushed aside the flap of the tent and was greeted by blinding light, her clothes neatly folded ontop of highlander woman's arms, the woman who was walking in her direction. A man waving at her perched in front of a crude cook fire.Â
"Mornin' pup, or rather, good middle o the day. Now dintcha have a leve you said you wanted to get done? Get dressed and go put me products ta use!"
Grunting with effort he reached for the lid of the hardwood crate and swung it open for the midlander. In turn, a small smile danced on her lips. She reached over and grabbed one of the vials held by the crate, a sickly green liquid swirling inside the glass that she turned over and examined. All of the vials held within were arrayed neatly, kept in tidy little clusters of color that made it an organized listing of swatches, four colors in all, instead of a kaleidoscope of hues.
"I'm honestly impressed, Roland. I thought it'd take a little while longer to assemble what I asked for."Â
"Well, Allene, when you've got a wee little pup who thinks she can take the world on and not one whit of sense to dissuade her from her course. There's little and less that can stop a passionate woman like you."
She had brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear as the weathered and rugged highlander spoke. Crow's feet wrinkling the corner of his eyes, grey streaks upon a black messy nest of hair. He had spoken in fatherly tone. Allene slipped the vial back into the crate. He shut the lid over the crate. She placed a sack of gil over the box.
"And you, wee pup, can keep the gil. I got me a windfall and just used the excess to make yer order. Diluted banemite poison, now what could you possibly need this for?"
"My reasons are my own, old man."
"My my and you almost sounded like me daughter too. Thinkin she knows what's best. An' I know there are other methods to stop yer belly from growing. Ya don't need to chug any of this poison an' slowly kill yerself in the process."
She fell silent, slumping back against the rickety oak chair. Her lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed. Her gaze turning away from the worried highlander across the table. He scoffed and shook his head, the ratty greying nest dancing from side to side. Her attention was caught when she heard the heavy thud of her gil landing on the desk. It was almost thunderous.
"If'n yer that worried about a wee one intrudin on yer fun, there's always some alchemist who could 'ave a solution to yer problem. Ya don't need a retired poisoner to 'elp ya. An' more to the point, that other solution probably won't have ya dancin with death every time."
He held a finger over to her before she even spoke. A gesture so powerful in her contemplative state she had silenced herself rather easily.
"An' I know, yer not doin it fer the fun. No' completely anyway. Fer the gil. Scared that monetarist lackey ain't gon' be done with yer family even tho' ya paid. But ye've met the quota, ya paid the debt against all odds. Yer father's got both his legs back and yer mother's decided to sleep more. 'ells yer favorite little brother looks up to ye and the twins too."
He leaned over and reached for the sack, dropping it on her lap.
"Ya don't need to be so desperate this time. Look, yer not me daughter but it kills me to see ya come here bruised and wounded because the gil was good but the man was all flavors a cruel. Ya get a little more leeway to choose who you sell yer body to and what ya do with the earnins. 'Ells with yer father back at Nanawa Mines like nuthin ever happened, ya could let go of sellin yer body fer 'owever long it takes for another tragedy ta hit."
"And that's how I cope. Look, the only reason I haven't gone bald of the stress is because of that. A little outlet, a slave to my desires, and I get gil out of it too. My vice saved my family."
"And yer vice isn't masochism innit?"
"No."
"Thought so. I won't tell ya to stop, though I would like nothing more than to. Ye've yer mind set on it but at least leave summodat gil for better purposes. Not ones that get ya killed. I dun mind at all that you come to me for all manner of nasty things to shower yer blade in for that edge ya need, but when ya use it on yerself it's nuthin short of bafflin really.Â
H-hey. Allene? Allene!"
The highlander had stopped. He found it odd that the midlander was so uncharacteristically quiet as went about lecturing her. He found it odd that even with the tent flap open she was sweating like it was in the middle of the hottest day. He caught her just before her cheek decided it was a good idea to kiss the wood of the table.Â
Her body was almost limp in his arms and he'd feel the heat just seeping through the linen of her robe. He quickly moved her to the sole hammock within the confines of the tent he lived in. Quickly taking the sweat stained robe and shirt off her leaving her with her sleeveless hempen shirt and the leather skirt that hugged her waist after he had taken her boots off as well.Â
Just as he turned to leave the tent, he stopped when he'd hear her chuckling on the hammock, rushing over to see if the midlander needed anything he knelt down beside her on one knee.Â
"W-well didn't expect myself to collapse so easily after finding it so hard to sleep for the past...oh three days. Y'know how hard it is to find people to just...revel with you in your little victories. Odd how..no one, literally no one in Ul'dah was interested in the prospect of free drinks. Three day celebration of my triumph over the forces of debt collectors!"
She began to rant sooner or later. Allene was vaguely aware of another voice, female this time. Probably Roland's wife. She was aware how everything was inexplicably wet and hot and uncomfortable. Then it started to feel cooler and drier, a little more comfy, a little less scratchy.
A great lull that just felt like her worries evaporated.Â
Morning came, she pushed aside the flap of the tent and was greeted by blinding light, her clothes neatly folded ontop of highlander woman's arms, the woman who was walking in her direction. A man waving at her perched in front of a crude cook fire.Â
"Mornin' pup, or rather, good middle o the day. Now dintcha have a leve you said you wanted to get done? Get dressed and go put me products ta use!"
![[Image: kUDtE6X.png]](http://i.imgur.com/kUDtE6X.png)
![[Image: zyWzbVR.png]](http://i.imgur.com/zyWzbVR.png)
