Innocence and Avarice [closed]

[Zhavi]

"Uhh. . .okay?" Zhi didn't have a clue what he was going on about. The most she got out of it was that either she'd know or she wouldn't. She straightened up, feeling something like a stitch in her side, and tried not to look as awkward and confused as she felt. Hells, she hadn't even planned ahead to figure out how Joz would feel about being so out of her depth -- hadn't realized that learning how to cast would be complicated, of all things.

 

"So, err, do I jes wait? I guess?"

 

Zhi didn't get embarrassed. Not since she'd finished her indenture to Galine. So, it could not be the heat of embarrassment that crept up her neck and stole over her cheeks. She refused to acknowledge it.

[Goodfellow]

Lolo nodded.  "And pay attention."

[Zhavi]

Zhi closed her mouth on words that would not come out of Joz's mouth. She stood for a time, a little hunched, a lot awkward, but eventually gave up and sat back down. Her clothing chafed. She was bored as they waited, unwilling to try to make any more conversation with Lalataru or even look at him. She'd wanted him to tell her to go home for the day, to do more practice by herself, something else other than sit there in his presence and feel the weight of every job she was on in his calm, encouraging stare.

 

He disgusted her.

 

Eventually the fatigue that had overtaken her started to subside, and with it came a strange sense of fullness that she couldn't quite put a finger on. A sense uncurled within her, one that felt both strange and natural, tingling as if she'd sat on it the wrong way and it'd gone numb. Wholly familiar, but seen from a new angle. After frowning to herself for several minutes, she realized that it was likely what Lalataru had been trying to tell her.

 

"Okay?" Zhi said, eyes sliding from the ground on one side of Lalataru to the other side and back again. "I think I feel it?"

 

She hunched into herself a bit more. The admission made her feel exposed, and if there was one thing Zhavi Streetrunner hated, it was remaining in someone's company when she felt vulnerable.

[Goodfellow]

"Go home, Miss Joz.  Rest, recharge.  When you feel your aether has replenished itself, we will meet again.  If you don't wish to return to the Guild just now, leave word at the Mizzenmast and we will meet out here again," he said softly.  "It's nice," he added, casting a glance at their surroundings, and at the rock.

[Zhavi]

It's nice.

 

Those words would follow Zhavi throughout her day and into the next one, dogging at her heels like some unrepentant cat looking for trouble. It's nice, it's nice. Another meeting place had been her intention, but not outside. Never outside. It made her nose itch and her eyes water, and it was supremely difficult to not look over her shoulder every third second. Joz wouldn't be so paranoid, so Zhi had to keep her ears relaxed and her tail from lashing. She couldn't let her eyes dart about looking for trouble, or raise her nose to the air and open her mouth to draw air in over the scent sacs in the roof of her mouth in order to scent any potential interlopers.

 

It was exhausting.

 

Yet she'd stammered out her acceptance, bowed, and scurried off like a good little student. She'd changed, slid back into Zhi's skin (she was doing a patchwork job of it anyways) and run off to see to her hirelings, their gathered information and their needs; check up on Thatcher's ongoing struggle; and broaden an ever-widening circle of contacts. Yayabuko still wasn't talking to her (the ass; Melkire's stupidity wasn't her fault), so she relied on Chirp's ability to find her a second runner. Which, as it so happened, was shite. She was still waiting for someone competent.

 

The day passed in a blur. The night passed in a blur. Galleon remained a mystery, there and vanished like some mirage while she went and did his bidding. She questioned it constantly, tested her resolve, thought about who he was and what he might do to her if she reneged on their contract.

 

In the end, she went back to Lalataru the following day. She left a message at the Mizzenmast and waited, awkwardly, without food or water. Joz was too poor to waste coin on either.

 

Bollocks.

[Goodfellow]

Joz's success had thrilled Lolotaru and he vicariously felt her enervation.  After she had gone, he took a brief nap on a rock in the shade until a light misting kissed him awake and he returned to the city and his room.  All his earlier talk of reading and manifesting of magics inspired him to pull out the book from his pocket and read (or stared at, rather) it until late into the night, each page turning heavily with uncertainty and fascination and a deliberate, almost amorous care.

 

The following day he was still engrossed in his reading when he was interrupted with word that Joz was there.  He almost absentmindedly sent for her to come up to his room, having taken so to their academic relationship, but he thought better of it and with a long, final glance at the frustratingly, addictively indecipherable symbols before him hopped down from his seat and descended to meet Joz.

 

Gods, she does look uncomfortable, though, he thought to himself as he stepped out from the staircase.

 

"Feeling better, Miss Joz?" he asked.

[Zhavi]

How long could they go on like this?

 

Zhi looked up from the study of her fingernails, hands laid over the now-dingy cover of the notebook Lalataru had given her what seemed like ages ago, and bobbed her head. "Yessir," she said, looking away. What was she doing? How long would it be before he trusted her enough to put her into contact with that book? Weeks? Months?

 

She needed to be patient. She knew that. But she was uneasy all the same, in a way she couldn't make heads nor tails of. A premonition of failure.

 

It wasn't like her. She had to focus on the moment. Nald'thal and his blimming scales be damned.

 

"Was it like this fer yerself, when ye first started, Master Lolotaru?"

[Goodfellow]

"I'm not sure I follow the question," he replied.  "Exhausting?  Difficult?  Confusing?" he asked before answering, "If any of those are what you mean, then yes, it was each of them in turn."

[Zhavi]

For once, Zhi's endless wellspring of words was no use. She had nothing to say to that, nothing clever to identify the roots of the question to him. She let it go, making a neutral, "mm," sound.

 

Looking up with a timorous smile that teetered on the edge of disappearing, she said, "tell me how t'get better, Master Lolotaru."

[Goodfellow]

He cocked his head to the side and raised his hand to his chin.  He answered without looking directly at her.

 

"That...may not be entirely the point."  He paused, then proceeded hastily.  "Be that as it may, I suppose you'd improve in much the same way you would any other area.  In your...er...former work, how did you become more adept?"

[Zhavi]

A smartass remark would not help matters. Zhi reminded herself that at least twenty times before she dared to open her mouth. She stood up first. "Not by talkin'," slipped out somehow. It wasn't as bad as her more automatic responses, but she still cringed internally. She gentled her voice to sound more. . .what? Subservient? Joz would be a suckup. "S'pose I shouldn't waste yer time, Master Lolotaru. I'll practice, aye, but what comes next? How do I know I'm gettin' better?"

 

She needed to get his book.

 

The more time that passed, the more she thought that it would be a matter of sneaking into his room and taking it, but to do that she needed more information on his abilities . . .and whether or not he'd spelled the damned thing. He sure as shit wasn't getting any of her hints, and she couldn't think of any other way to get into his confidences quick enough.

 

Why had Galleon picked her?

 

None of the theoretical answers to that were any good.

[Goodfellow]

Lolo's eyes widened and his ears twitched at Joz's snipe.  She had accomplished so much in such little time that her own frustrations were incomprehensible to him.

 

With a point to his mouth and a brandishing of the book from his pocket he shot back, "Yes, by talking.  That or reading."

[Zhavi]

"Ye. . .gonna teach me t'read? Wi'that?"

[Goodfellow]

He looked from the book to the girl and back.

 

"No, this wouldn't be much good for that," he said softly.

[Zhavi]

"Why not?" Zhi tilted her head to the side, eyes wide with curiosity.

[Goodfellow]

His cheeks reddened suddenly.  "Because...er...well...I can't even read it," he stammered, chagrined.

[Zhavi]

Zhi pulled a face at that, one that counted as just a bit gobsmacked, but she quickly tried to cover that with neutrality. "Err. . .ye can't read it? Why not? I thought ye could read. . .?"

[Goodfellow]

Lolo cringed visibly.  The rubedo character of his cheeks deepened further still and he became tense, nervous.  His face contorted with clear confused struggle. 

 

After an interim filled with uncertain half words he motioned Joz over to an empty table.  Pushing aside bottles and tankards he set two books before him; one completely nondescript and the other small and thick, screaming its age with every stain and crack across its aquamarine surface.  The first he laid down carelessly, the latter with great intention, his hand lingering over it once it was set.

 

He opened the newer, nicer seeming book, and indicated with a wave of his hand the words and letters within.  "This is the Eorzean alphabet.  I've read it all my life.  I can recognize a few others, as well."

 

He opened the aquamarine tome gently, the tips of his fingers almost dancing across the page as he traced the lines of the shapes and characters within.  "This?" he began breathily, "I...don't...understand."

 

The screwed-up look of his face was unreadable, not for any clever opacity, but for baring too much at once.

[Zhavi]

Zhi trembled as she sat. She fisted her hands and stuck them in her lap, leaning forward to get a better look at the book. "Why don't ye find some bloke what can read it, then?" Her expression had some interest in it, but there was also confusion in the way her eyes slid over both books and her eyebrows pulled together.

[Goodfellow]

Lolo appeared exasperated.  "I've tried doing just that.  Thaliak confound it, that's half the reason I moved all the way across Eorzea!" he muttered harshly, mostly to himself.

 

He composed himself somewhat and turned his eyes back up to Joz.  He smiled wanly and was quiet.

[Zhavi]

Zhi frowned. Her hands were pressed tight to her lap under the table where Lalataru couldn't see them shaking. Some of that strain was present in her shoulders; she looked tense. "Someone wrote it -- don't that mean there's someone t'read it? Why d'ye keep a book ye can't read -- I mean. . .I've seen ye carryin' this afore, haven't I? What's it about? Why's it so important?"

 

Her nails pressed into her palms. It hurt. It felt clean.

[Goodfellow]

Lolo's nose crinkled and his lips pursed as he responded, "It means there was someone to read it, at least."  He pulled the tome back around toward himself, ignoring for the moment the other book.  His eyes and fingers moved across the page, pulled, magnetized.  He spoke. 

 

"You're asking a great many questions, Miss Joz, and it's very well indeed that you should.  And that is why I've given so much for this book, why it above all others is my constant companion.  That is exactly what makes it important."

[Zhavi]

He's an arcanist.

 

"'Cause ye can't answer questions?"

 

She'd already lost interest in their conversation. She was imagining a pulse of power between her shoulder-blades, a last salute from a man whose motives were, frankly, baffling.

 

Sleeping, she thought. Yeah.

[Goodfellow]

"'Cause ye can't answer questions?"

 

He grimaced at that.

 

"Because it is a question, Miss Joz, and questions are for asking.  Axiomatic, yes, but it is essential to the character of the arcanist.  If you would be one, then you must never stop asking questions."

[Zhavi]

Zhi resisted the urge to put a finger in her ear and jiggle it around. She hadn't a single reaming clue what he was talking about. Instead, she put on a face full of uncertainty (she got the last part, loud and clear), and nodded.

 

She had an idea.

 

"So. . ." she drew the word out, "should I keep practicin' me aether flingin', or are ye gonna teach me letters t'day?"