Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Private Vacation from Work

A T R I S I A
Inner City

The language of these people was different from what I was used to. Many of them spoke in ways that seemed flamboyant, but then also curt and short. It was unique to find a language I didn't understand right away. While I found it difficult to try and get souvenirs from the city, it was also a blessing for me in disguise. I didn't have to hear the sounds of people warry of what I had done, what I had gone through. The noise to me was just that. Noise. No sounds to pick up that made me feel like that I was a problem. No voices speaking warry of me. I had many who nodded or bowed to me as I purchased small things. A nice jacket here, a cool pair of slacks or even this really cute cat figure that was supposed to be some kind of symbol of good fortune. Which was more of an inside joke just for myself with how often problems arose.

I enjoyed myself. Having some kind of frozen treat. It was a ball on a stick. The outside shell was cold to the touch, but creamy in its taste. When broken it gave way to a sponge texture that was richly bitter, yet still sweet. I enjoyed it how I could. My hand held under my mouth as parts of the shell broke and fell into it. Only to be scooped into my mouth. Hoping that this action wasn't some kind of heathenry or slight against them. Yet, those thoughts filtered away from my mind rather quickly. Just keeping my thoughts nearly locked in on my treat, and walking around the city proper.

After finishing the treat, I adjusted my clothing and just walked. Exploring the district. A woman came over to me and started to try and sell me something else. I wasn't even sure what it was. Just something that I had no clue would be and if it would be worth it.

"I'm sorry I don't understand you."

Speaking in the language I don't understand she tries to usher me over to her stall. I resist for a moment before gently finding the thread. The woven latticework around me and my hand phased through hers. She wouldn't feel it and would be more akin to slipping out from her grip than anything.

"I'm good. I sorry."

Walking away from her, I keep trying to avoid any possible confrontation. A little upset with how forward she was, but trying to understand that its her job.

Ayame Tsukihana Ayame Tsukihana
 
PzzWvcc.png


Tag: Rin Aikawa Rin Aikawa

The market district was already breathing with life when Ayame slipped from the carriage unannounced. There was no fanfare, no formal attendants, but the hum of independence warmed her ribs like plum wine. Her father would not be pleased, of course. A noble daughter, walking alone in the common quarter? Unchaperoned? Scandalous. But he wasn't here, and this morning was too beautiful to ruin with rules.

The city shimmered beneath low morning haze. Lanterns still hung from the festival night before, their tassels dancing gently in the breeze, and the scent of grilled sweetroot and miso steam buns drifted through the air. Ayame wandered slowly, pausing at one stall to admire silken ribbons, at another to smell dried camellia leaves. The handmaidens would be frantic by now. She would apologise later, with some candied chestnuts and a guilty smile to smooth things over.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she wandered further into the maze of stalls, trying not to look too curious, too obviously enchanted. She paused to examine a tray of porcelain cat charms, amused by their varied expressions, some smiling, others mid-yawn, one with a paw raised like some kind of royal wave. She turned it gently in her hand.

Then, a sharp shout came behind her — a hawker crying out a discount, or possibly an accusation — startled a young boy running past. He clipped a passing vendor, whose cart wheels were uneven at the best of times. A wobble. A slip. The cart lurched sideways and caught the edge of a display tent pole. The pole swung in a slow, lazy arc as if deciding what kind of day it was going to have—

And cracked directly into Ayame's shoulder.

She let out a small, surprised "oh!" and staggered backward—

Right into someone else.

There was a brief tangle of limbs, a rustle of robes, the faint crunch of something underfoot — she hoped it wasn't one of the cat charms — and the altogether unfortunate sensation of her glasses slipping halfway down her nose. She caught them with one hand just before they fell entirely.

"F-forgive me—!" she blurted instinctively, adjusting her spectacles with quick, flustered fingers. "That—I didn't see—"

She looked up to see the stranger she had fallen into. Not Atrisian, not from here, clearly. About her height, dark hair, composed, with an air of distant calm. Ayame blinked twice, then offered a small, crooked smile, part apology, part disbelief at her own luck. She gave a slight bow, hand still adjusting her glasses clumsily.

"I think that cat may have cursed me..."

Her tone was light, self-deprecating, but her cheeks burned pink all the same from the embarrassment of it all.

 
It was always the the wrong place and the wrong time. I never knew it until it would hit me. Which in this case, was right now. I had been looking around when a young boy ran past. My eyes watching him before the sound of a cry coming out from people beside me. Looking up in time to see a falling pole that was meant to hold one of the district tents. It happened at the last second I could register something was happening when it hit someone, and that someone smacked directly into me.

Our bodies hit each other. A solid umph escaped my chest. Elbow? Knee? something boney punched my gut as we landed and I winced. Grunting a little as the girl reached out with a hand to keep me from falling. My hand had grabbed onto her clothing in return. A natural response to grab anything, everything to prevent one's self from falling to the ground. Luckily it was just her sleeves as I held myself up. I was trying to catch my breath and correct my stance. Not relying on hanging from her.

Wheezing just a little bit from something hitting into my stomach, having just eaten didn't help, and looking up as she apologized. Glasses arranged on her face and fixed to not be falling or away from where they were meant to be. She was dressed well, and clearly had money to spend on such things. However, she made fun of the cat figure that was broken on the ground and saying it cursed her. Was it really a cursed artifact? I really did not want to deal with such things. I was already cursed so something else like a broken mirror or a black cat was not what I wanted. If this was their version of such things.

"No uh. Ghem. You are fine. It was an accident."

Kneeling down, I started to pick up the pieces of the broken cat figure. Cleaning them up by hand and gathering them in my hand. Taking a quick look up to indicate I was still talking to her.

"Are these like, cursed things? Like breaking one brings bad luck or something?"

After picking up some, I looked up and just kind of had this confused face. I could feel it shape as I looked to her. The light from the sun in the sky slightly blurring my vision as I looked up to her position.

"I really don't want that hanging over my head right now."

Ayame Tsukihana Ayame Tsukihana
 
PzzWvcc.png


Tag: Rin Aikawa Rin Aikawa

Ayame laughed softly, though the sound was more of a breath than a voice, delicate, fluttering out before she could stop it. She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering at her temple in a subconscious attempt to hide behind the edge of her hand.

"Technically... yes," she admitted shyly, her gaze flicking down to the broken ceramic cat between them.

Her hands came together in a quiet clap — fingertips aligned, graceful and precise — and she bowed her head for a moment of silent apology to the broken charm, murmuring something under her breath too softly to be heard. A gentle offering to the spirits of luck and fortune. Then, without hesitation, she spun lightly on the ball of one foot and turned to face the stall owner. Her back straightened. Her entire bearing shifted, the casual softness replaced with a sudden poise. She bowed low, arms neatly folded at her sides, and when she spoke, her voice carried the lilting rhythm of the local dialect — a blend of formal Basic and a much older tone.

The conversation played out in warm, respectful phrases. There was a little laughter, a little bargaining. Ayame's purse — small and embroidered with pink cherry blossoms — emerged from her sleeve, and delicate fingers placed an exact amount of coin into the merchant's hand. A new cat was wrapped in paper and tied with gold string. Ayame bowed again and turned back to the young woman, the elegance returning to her voice like a ribbon settling back on silk.

"This," she said softly, offering the charm out with both hands and a small bow of her own. "Will ensure no bad luck follows you. And... perhaps even a little good fortune, if the spirits are feeling generous."

Her smile was warm now — still shy, but blooming with sincerity, and in that moment, surrounded by colour and voices and the morning bustle of the city, she felt oddly brave.

 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom