Innocence and Avarice [closed]

[Zhavi]

Azeyma was trying to kill Zhavi. It was the only good explanation why, on the one day Zhavi needed to be out in the docks in full broad daylight, the sun shone so fiercely in the sky. The week had been one of grey skies and misery all around, with old sailors spreading sour words about storms and the like to come soon (that ever ominous word). Yet, somehow, everyone had been wrong, because on the day Zhavi was ready to speak to the lalafel, she was forced to wait out in the open with the sun beating her mercilessly with its light and heat. Someone, somewhere, was laughing. It was probably Azeyma. Murderous bitch.

 

Zhi crouched on one of the dock supports, watching one ship in particular -- though she kept her general demeanor one of purposeless boredom. Not that she was fooling those who'd come to get a fix on her compass as the years'd passed. Her acquaintances (enemies to be, she liked to think of them on days like the one she was currently experiencing) had tossed her any number of fun one-liners, like "beautiful day, innit, Slant?" or "enjoyin' that sunshin?" or "can't stay in on a day like this!" all the while sniggering behind their hands and thinking themselves so clever. She'd shown them her fangs, lips stretching far off her teeth in a grin that wasn't her most personable. Not that any of them took her seriously. Louts.

 

Finally, finally her patience was rewarded, as she spotted Lalataru disembark. Never had relief been so sweet, not even when she'd bought herself a bath for the first time in two moonspan the day prior. Was a pity that she'd been unable to get rid of the fleas in her preparation for today, but the wool light-weave tunic and trousers she'd managed to con off the ragspicker for a hunnerd were worth the ensuing itchiness. Even if fleas were one of her most detested pests, what the lalafel couldn't see wouldn't hurt him. Unless she infected him. Call it even, if that happened, for the wait she'd endured in the meantime. Really. She should have invested in a hat with a wide brim. As it was, the innards of her ears would probably be burned come nightfall.

 

Zhi hopped off her perch and started ambling off the docks, letting the crowd bump her to the edges. She was practiced at following people, and knew better than to tot after someone (even if they were oblivious) like a kitten after its mam for milk. She stopped briefly at a stall, angling herself to be able to see Lalataru once he passed on his way off the docks. Then all it would be was to catch him in a shady location, out of the way, and she'd be in business. Finally.

[Goodfellow]

Lolotaru was always shocked by how hot it could get in Limsa Lominsa.  Growing up in the desert, he knew heat, but it was different in Limsa.  You couldn’t hide from it.  It was wet, sticky,pervasive, and only the breeze offered any comfort.  As he stepped off of the ferry he took note of the crowd and frowned visibly.  The docks were crowded today; the lalafell would feel no breeze.  He did not relish the thought of being jostled about by the sweaty knees of the larger folk of the city.  He sighed and began to push through the forest of legs, pressing forward towards the ramp up to the city proper.

 

As he walked, he became aware of,and increasingly distracted by, the stuffy, unpleasantly moist feeling of his skin beneath his scholar’s robe.  He loved his robes, so full of pockets brimming with the associations of history.  Nevertheless, the thought of spending the next several hours in the already dirty garments weighed on him and further soured his mood.  And it was so stuffy in the Arcanists’ Guild!

 

As he crested the top of the ramp a breeze rolled in and he stepped to the side of the crowd, over to the edge of the Aetheryte Plaza to better feel it.  The crowd was sparser here.  He splayed out his arms, closed his eyes, and breathed in the thick, salty air.  Maybe today wouldn’t be such a disappointment after all.

[Zhavi]

The breeze wasn't enough. Move, she ordered the lalafel in her head even as she walked across the plaza to stare out across the ocean like any dimwitted tourist, keeping him in her peripherals. Move, move y'whelp.

 

He couldn't hear her, of course, and he didn't listen. She could feel the sunburn coming on, already had the start of a headache from all the gods-cursed reflecting the water did. Limsa Lominsa was all a Keeper could ever wish for at night, but get caught out during the daytime and it was a bleeding nightmare. Yeah, sure, Zhi had grown up in Limsa and had never been anywhere else in her life, but that didn't change the fact that it was seven kinds of hell to get caught out in daytime, or be forced to it. So what, though, right? She wouldn't have to pretend to be a in a heap of misery because she was going to die thanks to the little halfwit. And how was he not dying in that robe? Proof, she thought, that book learning never did anyone any good. Load of rubbish apt to addle the mind, that was it.

 

Her ears flattened as she loitered, ignoring the few sideways glances from nicer-kept folk who paraded themselves throughout the plaza like they were something good to be looked at. She knew the type, all fresh wealth and glutted on it, ripe to be plucked like the thief-bait they were. Yeah, just wait 'till they ducked into the shady Hawkers Alleys. They'd be lightened of their coin, alright, but they wouldn't be spending it. Idiots.

 

C'mon churl, get yer arse movin' afore th'sun addles yer wits further.

 

Zhavi could be patient. There was no way she could have survived without being patient. Add in the sun, however, and all bets were off.

[Goodfellow]

Lolo opened his eyes and stepped up on top of a bench, leaning over the railing to see the ocean.  It had been months since he'd relocated to Vylbrand and he still loved to look out over the sea.  Maybe he really was just a tourist in residence, but the ocean reminded him of home in a way.  The great expanses of water and sand were both things to be crossed, not lived upon, and from moment to moment the waves and the dunes changed their face.  One used the sun and the stars to navigate both. 

 

But now wasn't the time to wax contemplative.  The heat was too oppressive for that, and his mind thus too sluggish to think any thoughts to truly be proud of.  No, he had dallied long enough.  He looked up towards the Upper Decks and the Bismarck, thoughts of cool refreshments enjoyed in the shade and the breeze dancing through his mind, followed immediately by the realization that for exactly that reason the Bismarck would be particularly busy, and today was a day for pushing through crowds, not sitting amongst them.

 

With a resigned sigh and a final glance over the bulwark, Lolo stepped off the bench, his foot catching on the edge of his soggy robe as he fell face first onto the hard stone below.  Momentarily dazed, he rose to his knees, one hand immediately flying to his head, the other to the left pocket of his robe.  His breath caught in his throat as he patted around his waist, only resuming when his hand came to rest on the familiar bulge.  Thank Thaliak, he thought, I didn't drop it.

 

He stood up, brushing off the front of his robe and wincing slightly at the minor scrapes and bruises on his knees and elbows, and began to cross the plaza in the direction of Hawkers' Alley, right arm clutching his shoulder bag, left hand hovering protectively over the pocket, tracing out the dimensions of its contents absentmindedly.

[Zhavi]

Zhi's breath caught at the same time as Lalataru's, though she didn't know it. Her tail went rigid, her expression darkened, and she almost -- but not quite -- vocalized her distress as he nearly killed himself. What was it with the day? First her mettle was tested by the sun, and now by what, fate? The gods surely were having a good time at her expense. Still, at least he was moving and that would have to do. What's more, he headed in the direction she'd hoped he'd go. Perfect.

 

Taking her time in moving in the same direction, Zhi nonetheless passed him within the Alley itself. There was only one path forward, and she intended to beat him there. She knew he frequented the Arcanists' Guild, had seen as much in the time she'd followed him back and forth. She knew many things about Lolotaru Lalataru, from that which she'd seen, to that which she'd heard, to that which she'd paid for. She'd made him her business, had staked a claim on him in the way of her ilk. And though she was not intimidating, she had resources enough to make life very uncomfortable for anyone who got ideas about her employer's mark. Not that such a thing would discourage those who outstripped her in influence and wealth, but this one was based in enough eccentricity that she didn't think it would become a problem. Not unless there was more to it than she realized -- and that was regrettably not uncommon. Too many employers thought to keep her in the dark, someone who kept herself fed from staying abreast of who was ferrying what dirty little secrets around.

 

She sighed in relief as she crossed into the shade of the covered alcove that housed the door into the Arcanists' Guild. She sat there, uncaring of the dirt on the floor, and pulled her knees in towards her chest. Unless Lalataru loitered overlong and someone else came along to discourage her from polluting what was essentially the front porch of this particular guild, she should be able to catch him.

 

She'd dressed for the occasion, having used part of her pre-payment to buy an oversized shirt and half-pants. Worn sandals were on her feet, and her hair was mussed but not too dirty -- of course, what with her own sweat and the humid heat, she was looking a little worse for wear than she'd intended, and smelling just enough of wet fur to likely be counted as potential unconscious aversion, but she was confident. She looked the part of a big-eyed youth, hopeful with just enough tragedy (not too much, that was a quick way for things to get awkward) to invite sympathy. Not too dirty, not too clean. She'd aimed for that sweet spot of potential, the one that got strangers to trust before their instincts had a chance to kick in. And if that didn't work on Lalataru, for whatever reason, she had a backup plan or two.

 

Make or break in that moment. Her heartbeat sped, and she swallowed down the urge to grin. She wrapped her tail around her feet to keep it (and her butt, dratted instincts) from wagging.

 

She lived for that moment.

[Goodfellow]

Finally, after an interminable struggle, Lolo cleared the crowd and passed into the open air of the final stretch to the Guild.  He loved this particular stretch of the walk.  Whatever else may be happening in the city, here it was rarely busy.  The spacious covered hall leading to yet more (though less frequented) docks housed the thick salt smell and quiet, wet rock that was present throughout the city, but here there were no hawkers, no officers and captains and sailors and beggars.  No one loitered here, no one but the studious. 

 

Small clusters of novices and apprentices were often seen discussing readings and lectures excitedly, exhaustedly.  Masters and professors stood apart during their own breaks, smoking pensively. This was Lolo's place to breathe before stepping into his beloved Guild.  He had been away for several weeks and so, under normal circumstances, would have paused to take it all in, to participate, perhaps, in the unofficial ceremony of it all.  But today he simply wanted to get inside, to go to some secluded section of the library where he could fan out his robes and tend to his scrapes and bruises.  And to read and take his mind far away from the heat and the pitfalls of the day.

 

Staring down the front of his now wet, stretched, and dirtied robe, Lolotaru didn't see the miqo'te until he'd almost stepped on her tail and run into her knees.  Startled, his hand reflexively moved to his pocket as he hurriedly mumbled a "pardon."  He looked up and a pair of dark eyes looked back.  Him standing, her seated, her gaze met his and their eyes locked.

[Zhavi]

Those dark eyes widened during the few seconds they met Lalataru's, and then they were abruptly looking down. "Y-you're -- " Zhavi went tense, and then she'd scooted back several inches, her hands up in front of her as if to ward the lalafel off. She looked up, and back down, and then back up, taking in the man like he was some sort of alien species. "Sorry!" This was blurted, pitch high and loud.

 

One hand braced the miqo'te on the ground, and the other rose to cover half her face. "Sorry," she repeated, shoulders curving inward. Her whole body was one giant grimace as she got herself under control, daring another look at the lalafel. She pressed her lips together, looked up and down, and then before he could get a word in edgewise she'd genuflected towards the lalafel and bent herself nearly double over her upraised knee.

 

"I want -- please let me be yer 'prentice!" Overloud, and still high pitched, but definitely aimed towards Lolotaru Lalataru.

 

Were there any people loitering around the place, they'd doubtless have cause to stare at the two of them.

[Goodfellow]

His eyes went wide and he took a half a step back as the girl began to jitter and stammer.  "Sorry!" she blurted, apparently shocked.  "No, I'm sorry!" he blurted back, definitely shocked.  He watched her as she convulsed, contorted, and threw herself before him.  It took him a moment to recognize the motion: a genuflection.  A bow.  Color immediately flooded to his cheeks.

 

Her words sounded far away, as in water, but one word stuck.  Did she just say...?

 

"Did you say," he asked in a low voice, glancing around nervously as he gulped the final word audibly, "apprentice?"  He was confused, only barely concluding that he was not suffering from some sort of brain fever brought on by the heat.  If it can be believed, he instantly began to sweat even more profusely than before.

 

He raised a sleeve to wipe his forehead and, unable to stop himself, let out an small, anxious chuckle.  The smile appearing at the sides of his mouth, though, that was proud.

[Zhavi]

The way she froze, it was as if she'd just committed some incalculable error and hadn't the slightest clue how to rectify it. She flinched, her head drooping low, and chanced a few brief glances at Lalataru's face. "Y-yes?" The word was a squeak of sound. Hope, uncertainty and anxiety clouded her voice, and contorted her face. Her tail lashed sideways once, and then back the other way. She snatched it up and held it between her hands as if she didn't know what else to do with it. Back went her ears, and the whole of her waited for Lalataru's answer, as if that was the only thing in the world that could make her breathe right again.

[Goodfellow]

Before he could fully experience his flattery, Lolo's analytical mind caught up to his pride.  She's confused.  After all, he was hardly the most noteworthy individual in the Guild.  He showed great aptitude and promise, yes, and there was great curiosity concerning the potential of several of his theories.  Even his personal and self-taught style had impressed his instructors, but he remained raw yet and his actual accomplishments and contributions were still few in number and under-circulated. 

 

The corners of his mouth pulled in and his wide eyes narrowed.  He cast another glance around the entryway and directed himself once again towards the girl.  Her pose was the very definition of pitiful and he leaned in, unknowingly, in response, hands raised slightly toward the scrunched up figure before him, stopping just shy of her knees.

 

"Ma'am," he inquired, "just who do you think that I am?"

[Zhavi]

Zhi fell back onto her butt as Lalataru drew closer and once more squeezed her knees in to her chest. "Lolotaru, aye? They says. . .they says you know what it's. . .it has t'be you. I can't -- I don't want ta -- " her face crumpled, and she stared down at her knees. "So please -- I can cook some, clean some, be useful somehow -- I m-mean, I'm a quick learner, see? B-but I'm tireda bein' -- I don't wanna be no -- and you, ya'd unnerstand, right? Gotta be you, so. . .so please. . .please lemme be yer 'prentice." Her voice shrank as she spoke, until she was whispering her plea to her knees. Her eyes welled up, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. Her knuckles were white, she was clutching her tail so hard.

 

She didn't dare look up at Lalataru.

[Goodfellow]

"Er...why yes, that's me."

 

This was only becoming more confusing by the moment.

 

"Uh...ma'am, I'm afraid it doesn't quite work that way," he explained as he sat down on the ground next to her, unconcerned with further dirtying his poor robe.  With a keen and furtive series of sideways glances he more closely examined his erstwhile companion.  Her clothes were matted, but otherwise seemed clean, if ill-fitting.  The heat would be responsible for that, and for her hair.  A quick observation of the fur of her tail revealed a somewhat mussier state than the hair on her head; so she had washed but recently and partially.  Her shoes fit better than her clothes, but showed more wear.  They were hers, the rest must have been new.  She reminded him of...but no, her eyes had wide, large pupils: Keeper, not Seeker.

 

Realizing that he had become distracted, he continued, hoping she hadn't noticed the momentary delay.  "I respect the urge to study, believe me, but there are far more qualified individuals than myself."  He began to stand, holding out his hand towards her and sweeping it towards the door, gesturing with a nod of his head.  "Please, step inside and we'll begin the requisite paperwork."  Yes, yes, then they would take her for examinations of her latent aetheric levels, gather a history of her exposure to and affinity for magic and begin to assign her preliminary readings and a course schedule.  And he could go to the library and continue his research, continue reading.

 

He looked expectantly at the scrawny figure seated before him.  But for her color, she really does look like her, he thought to himself.

[Zhavi]

Shit.

 

Zhi sniffled, and bit her lower lip. "Th-they won't -- they won't sell me t'the Yellowjackets?"

 

She looked towards the door, then to Lalataru, and back to the door. Her face was the picture of misery as she added on, "I can't read'r write. 'Swhy I -- I thought y'would. . .I jes, I wanna be yer 'prentice. Y'know what it's like t'be. . .t'be. . ."

 

She shivered, her eyes going distant as she stared at the door.

[Goodfellow]

Sell her to the Yellowjackets?  "Where in the world would you get that idea?" Lolo blurted in surprise.  How old is this girl? he thought to himself as he stared at her.  He felt a pang at the mention of her illiteracy and his face betrayed sympathy and...something less defined.

 

"Y'know what it's like t'be. . .t'be. . ." she faded out.

 

"To be what?" he finished.

[Zhavi]

"Cuz I'm a. . .I was a . . . I mean, a - a thief," the last was muttered at her knees. "But you, they says you done bad things, an' I thought if I was -- i-if I was yer 'prentice then mebbe I. . ." she trailed off, clenching her teeth for a moment as if to drive back her emotions before she finished. "Mebbe I could 'ave a chance, too."

[Goodfellow]

Thief?  Lolo recoiled slightly and his hand shot to his pocket.

 

"Bad things?" he chuckled as he turned his head purposefully to the door (closed, good), around the entryway (empty, good), and back to the miqo'te.  His visage darkened.

 

"Not here," he stated plainly before standing up and walking to the door.  "Wait."  Simple, final. 

 

He disappeared inside.

[Zhavi]

Zhi licked her lips as the lalafel disappeared. Gods take it, had she just stepped in it? She'd never liked playing cringing little pissants, hated seeing them on the street and could see 'em hanged without remorse, but she'd judged it the best way to cling to Lalataru without unnecessary explanation. Should she have played a beggar instead? She'd thought to forge some sort of empathy -- but she couldn't take it back now. All that remained was to sit and wait, and hope Nald'thal had a shred of mercy for her left.

 

She hated waiting in such situations. She wanted to go hide, to ward off the potential mistake before it could hurt her true, but until she knew for sure she'd blown her chance, she had to be patient. Should've taken the other job.

 

Zhi buried her face in her knees, completing the picture of dejection that she'd thus far portrayed, but remained on full alert. As soon as something seemed sour, she was gone.

[Goodfellow]

The doors had barely shut behind him when Lolo kicked himself mentally.  Idiot of an aldgoat!

 

Bad things?  He had no idea what she meant; she could have meant anything!  No reason to assume that she was talking about then.  This could all still be some sort of mix-up, a case of mistaken identities, confused names and faces.  She said she couldn't even read!  An easy mistake to make, and an easy mistake to clear up.

 

But what if she wasn't confused?  What if she wasn't wrong?  What if she really did know what she was saying and meant it?  He had to follow up, to see it through.  He had to know or he couldn't sleep.  There, in the stuffy hall of the Arcanists' Guild, Lolotaru Lalataru, soaked through with sweat and dragging his long robe, suddenly felt very cold.

 

He glanced around hurriedly, taking in the lay of the room.  It was mostly empty.  The girl's shirt was big enough it might pass for a half-robe so long as no one paid attention too closely; unasked, unobserved, unmolested she could pass for an initiate.  He walked swiftly over to the staircase and down, glancing into the demonstration room below.  It was empty.  Good.  He hastily summoned Ben, his Carbuncle.  It was his oldest, most practiced summon and the most comfortable, almost second nature.  He stilled himself, felt the pull of the aether around him, and held in his mind the loose, looping pattern that summed up his relationship with Ben.  He waved his arm, catching a corner of the air and with a quick tug upwards and a bright blue flash, pulled the coalescing figure into full manifestation.  Ben flipped and landed before him with a squeak.  Lolo held out his palm and nodded and Ben sat on his haunches and waited patiently.

 

Once back at the top of the stairs, Lolo checked to make sure the main hall remained clear, then rushed to the door and peeked outside.  The girl was still sitting there, just as he'd left her.  He put on a smile and addressed her quietly as he stepped out.

 

"I'm sorry about the wait.  Please, do come in."  He opened the door and motioned.  "Now, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," holding the smile, hoping his voice would put her at ease, knowing it probably wouldn't," but while you seem to know my name, I didn't catch yours."

[Zhavi]

Well, well, well, they had gotten somewhere. If he'd meant to call the guards on her, then certainly he'd have taken longer. There'd be no need to treat her to some elaborate game, not if she was believed to be some scrawny little scut. She didn't think Lalataru would behave that way, though gods knew she'd been proven wrong before. Caution was to be her guide, as ever. The tone of his voice seemed calm enough, and she permitted her stiffness to bleed out of her a little. A little, but not too much; no kid born of the streets would ever actively show themselves calm when they were somewhere strange, especially not if they were as dumb as the part she was playing.

 

"Me mam called me Joz," she said, slow and hesitant as she got to her feet. "Go by Rat most days."

 

She finally let go of her tail, and chose instead to hold near the hem of her shirt as she minced past Lalataru and into the Arcanist's Guild. Strange as it was, she'd never been inside before. While ambition had seen fit to goad her beyond the more simple messaging jobs that took her from one point to another (and rarely inside anywhere), she'd previously shied away from the guilds on self-preservation alone. People with power tended to use that power, and if you weren't slick enough, you'd get a taste of it. Zhi didn't bungle jobs often, but sometimes learning meant getting your tail singed -- Galine'd been the one to teach her that, and loathe as Zhi was to think kindly on the little terror, she knew her stuff well enough.

 

Once inside, Zhi took her time to gawk. Time spent on the street had worn the wonder right out of her, but she knew well enough how to play the dazzled poor girl. It was as if she'd plum forgotten Lalataru was there, the way she stared gape-mouthed at all the nice things.

[Goodfellow]

"Joz.  Yes, nice to meet you, Miss Joz," he muttered as she stepped past him through the door.  Her mouth was agape and Lolotaru remembered his own first visit to the Arcanists' Guild.  It had been busier that day and the bustle of it all, the comings and goings of the learning and the learned had excited in him a similar reaction; he had stood for several long moments, mouth agape, wishing his eyes were wider to take it all in.  It was a new day in a new life for which he maintained such very high hopes.  He couldn't lose that.

 

He tried to get the girl's attention.  "Miss Joz?"  He indicated the stairwell and stepped toward it himself.  "Right this way."

[Zhavi]

Zhi snapped her mouth shut, ears going flat as she averted her eyes from the splendor. She mumbled something under her breath, and then said, "Jes Joz is fine," as she moved for the stairwell. She opened her mouth and inhaled as if to speak, then shut it again. Her hands had balled into fists, and she held them close to her stomach. Her elbows were tucked in, her shoulders hunched; even with her feline characteristics, she looked as shy as any mouse might be and twice as pathetic.

 

She took the stairs slowly, tail twitching sporadically as she preceded Lalataru. Finally, when she reached the end of them, she stopped, awkward, eyes glued to the floor. She opened her mouth again, and shut it in the same breath. She pressed her lips together, and hugged herself. Her ears were pressed so flat to her head that they were nearly lost in the mess of her hair.

[Goodfellow]

Lolo walked behind her to the bottom of the stairs, where she halted, staring at the floor.  She either hadn't seen or was purposefully ignoring the shining Carbuncle seated  before her, his head cocked to the side as it examined her.  It was a curious creature, almost shaking with the urge to hop over to her and sniff and paw at her.  But, it didn't.  It waited, as Lolo had bid it.

 

"Ben," Lolo said, stepping past Joz.  The Carbuncle's gaze shot towards his face, its ears perked and attentive.  Lolo tossed his head upward slightly and the familiar bolted past the two of them to the top of the stairs, where it sat and watched the hall.

 

Turning to Joz, Lolo widened his arms and said, "Here, Miss Joz, we can speak more easily."  Despite having escaped inside, Lolo's skin still radiated heat.  Had he simply not cooled off yet, or was the situation simply keeping him uncomfortably warm?  Ignore it.  Focus.

 

"You were saying before?"  He stared at her and awaited her reply.

[Zhavi]

It was evident in the way Zhi jerked back with a yelp that she hadn't seen the carbuncle. What was worse was that the reaction wasn't entirely feigned; Zhi had been so focused on playing her part of miserable loser that she'd lost some awareness of her surroundings. Stupid, she thought, stupid churl. Anger at herself flared hot, and was smothered into a wide-eyed stare after the small creature. Such things were not an unseen sight in Limsa Lominsa, but they were rare in the poorer side of town and all the places where little streetrats were wont to go.

 

Lalataru had said they might speak easily, and to that Zhi returned a distinctly uneasy expression.

 

She responded to his question with one of her own. "A-ah. . .does this -- are ye gonna take me as yer 'prentice?"

 

Where had the nearly bashful demeanor gone from outside? Zhi had a sinking feeling that she had unearthed a side of Lalataru that she hadn't accounted for, hadn't known existed, but she couldn't be sure. Had she made her move too soon? Was it her own blimming overconfidence that'd gotten in the way of her street sense? He'd spoken of going inside to fill out paperwork. There was no paperwork. There were no "better qualified" individuals to hand her off to. Something did not feel right, and now Zhi was in a place she couldn't escape from. She was trapped with his gods-cursed creature up the stairs. He could snuff her out easy as chuffin' pie, with no one the wiser. Just like that. She'd underestimated the situation. If things were to go sour, she'd nothing to blame but her own flipping idiocy.

 

Focus!

 

She started to sweat. Again.

[Goodfellow]

Patience.  But gods, it felt like pulling teeth.  He placed his hand over his pocket to ground himself.

 

"As I mentioned before, it's not that simple.  There are protocols and customs and tests and--," he interrupted his droning and looked her in the eyes, "you see, the matriculation process isn't quite so direct as--"

 

He looked down and shook his head lightly.  When his gaze returned to her, he was again smiling, more at ease.

 

"I'm sorry, never mind all that for now.  This whole situation is...er...unorthodox.  And so, with so little precedent, you see, where we end up depends entirely on how we communicate with one another.  If you were my apprentice, the first lesson I would give you is in clarity.  The equations and symbols of arcanima are clear, they circumvent the rigid verbal formulae of other magicks and serve to directly express the will of the arcanist to the aether in and around him and, if there is correspondence," he paused for effect, "the aether responds."  In conversation, Lolo had the habit of losing himself in his own words, letting technicality bleed into informality in a way which provoked either of two equally uncomfortable reactions in his interlocutors: those who attempted to meet him on that technical level, and so made fools of themselves, and those who laughed and exaggerated their own simplicity for the sake of their discomfort, mollifying him.  Lolo, red-faced, had ruined many a perfectly serviceable interaction in just this way before. 

 

But how would Joz respond?

 

When he first began to study, his reaction to just such a discourse would be one of limited awe and attempted engagement leading to an exhausting, though endearing, line of seemingly interminable inquiry.  He hoped that she would react in just such a way.

 

If not, he expected she would become much more direct.  That was what he had observed and so that was what he expected.

 

"And so, let us be clear with one another, Miss Joz.  What was it you were saying upstairs?"

[Zhavi]

"I can't. . ." Zhavi's voice was more than a little strangled, and not much more than a whisper. "I don't understand but -- but I'll work hard for ye! I'll learn, aye? I can learn. I can do that much."

 

Twelve save her from scholars and arcanists. Tip the scales, Nald'thal. . .towards me this time. Zhi almost didn't answer Lalataru's second question. It seemed out of place, and she wondered if she shouldn't just focus on her desperate begging, but she wasn't so sure that ignoring any of his words would be the right direction. She was wary of him, backed up against a wall as she was, and fear was only one short step away. Couldn't give in to fear. If she did that. . .

 

"W-what d'ye mean, upstairs?"