A Mercenary Among Merchants

[Felypsa]

The sun was shining, but the air was freezing. The waves of the ocean off the coast of Escavas crashed through frost and ice victoriously. It was a cold day, unless you happened to be standing in the sun, as was a tall, mysterious-seeming girl with blue-blonde hair and violet eyes. The sun’s rays warmed the young woman up, giving her relief from the cold air. Her name may be December, but that didn’t mean she had to like winter.

December watched the ocean’s roiling waves, lost in thought. Not far away from where she stood on the beach, merchants were readying their ships for business, although on this winter day the fishermen stayed home. Behind her, the main city of Escavas was bustling in Market Day, the most popular day of the week. Vendors cried out their wares and prices, each claiming to be better than the next. Yet December stood alone, breathing in the salty, frigid air, listening to the cries of gulls in search of food and vendors in search of customers.

Actually, she was not quite alone. One of the gulls, so much smaller than the rest, came wheeling down and landed on her shoulder. December smiled at the bird, which transformed into a mockingbird. She was the same size as the gull, yet a different form. “Imi, I don’t know how you stand it,” December remarked to her only companion. “You’re supposed to be migrating South for the winter. I didn’t think you can handle this cold.”

In response, the mockingbird turned into a small phoenix, with fiery feathers. December laughed appreciatively. “Oh, I see how it is.” Still smiling, she began to walk towards Market Day, thinking that there may be something of interest to her there. If she was lucky, she would get employed. A mercenary without a master was a poor thing. December grimaced and reached her hand up behind her, feeling the hilt of her trusty sword Seraphim. No one would mistake her for anything but a mercenary. That was not her problem.

The problem was, these people had an uncanny ability for detecting half-breeds. December had strange-colored hair and strange-colored eyes, but most people would remark on it and move on without suspicion. But these Escavans, they had a disdain for all things inhuman and unnatural. December, unfortunately, fell into that category. Half of the blood that ran through her veins was bonafide human, but the other half was supernatural: her father was a seraph. A high angel, of sorts. You’d think that would earn me a little more respect, December thought wryly. Instead, it just makes me more deplorable. Funny how that works. Of course, she didn’t find it very funny at all. Here in Escavas, it would take nothing short of a miracle to find someone willing to hire a “half-breed” like her.

Imi changed into a tiny dragon, her favorite alternate form, and breathed fire. December grinned at her, glad to be free of her depressing reverie. “Alright, alright, keep your shirt on, I’m moving!” She made her way gradually towards the city, shivering every now and then from the cold. Her thoughts turned back to her dilemma, and her frustration increased. She was half-seraph; shouldn’t miracles happen to her all the time?

Apparently not.

[Aveilthé]

Just between two great oaks stood a handsome fellow,
tall and young-looking, whose pale face stood out
against many of the peach-coloured fleshy humans.
The cheerful people of this city were oddly bustling;
it was obvious that fish were rather obliged to being
caught by the many men's nets as they were cast to
sea. But it was nearing dusk; the sun's rays sparkled
against the surface of the gleaming ocean across
the west.

Back to this young man... he had a charming
appearance, with such a young yet wise expression. He
was certainly unlike many of the men in the city... but
this man, who called himself Fortuné, bore a dark secret
that only he knew. This secret certainly set him apart
from the masses.

Thick curly locks of chestnut hair fell across his forehead.
Today he had it tied at the base of his neck, the better
to keep such thick hair away from his bright, unnaturally
glowing green eyes and ivory face. For the night, his
attire was that of a crimson vest, freshly pressed by his
truly, with dark boots and pants. A white shirt obscured
his arms.

A tune was carried out like a morning bird's sweet,
welcoming song. Fortuné was playing a violin, and rather
well if one may have an opinion. The violin's case was
laid upon grass just by his boots, and every now and
then a passersby would toss in a gold coin or two
for appreciation, receiving an inclination of the player's
head in gratitude. The violinist would step around every
now and then, slowly or quickly, depending upon which
song he was playing. A hint of a grin was given to the
young ladies that passed him, causing a small pack
of girls to giggle in his wake.

His notes would soon soften as a full moon began to
appear, though it was not yet night. The sun was still
saying its last farewells to the Coast of Escavas, the
waters ever emitting it's sheer golden glow across
it's glassy blue surface, deepening to a richer gold
as each minute passed on by.

It was then at that moment that a form in the distance
caught his attention, though his notes did not falter.
For a moment his heart fluttered - and he shivered; aye,
it was cold out, but he was sure it wasn't the cold that
made him do so - the girl December was a sight indeed.
Drawing up into his full height, he'd proceed to quicken
his notes to happier tunes, something he totally made
up. He stepped lightly over his violin case, and
purposely made himself more visible, so perhaps the
young lady in the distance would notice him. Dodging
a merchant's horse-drawn carriage, he'd approach
his spot again, still playing, green eyes aglow.

A fool he was; there was a one percent chance of her
noticing him midst all these people. Perhaps he didn't
have the best attention span, either, for he failed to
notice a person greeting her - and the girl's bizarre pet bird.

[Mama Z]

(Haha sorry Sattie, that post sounds a lot like the one I used for Lina's in the City posting..Wonder where you got the idea...jk jk jk jk..)

[Aveilthé]

z said:

(Haha sorry Sattie, that post sounds a lot like the one I used for Lina's in the City posting..Wonder where you got the idea...jk jk jk jk..)

OOC: I've never read Lina's post, Zizzie. XDDD

[Felypsa]

December neared the hustle and bustle of the city, and the noise was almost overwhelming. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she took in the scene. No one seemed to give her a second glance. That was both good and bad. It was good in that she was not shunned because of her heritage; it was bad because it meant less probability of her finding employment. What was she thinking, anyway? Who could possibly need a mercenary at this time of year…who could afford it?

Imi, again a mockingbird, warbled in her ear. December turned and was aware of a young woman riding atop a curious-looking horse. The girl was asking something of her. Was she looking for something? “Oh, ah, I suppose,” December said guardedly. “But, thank you, I think I can manage on my own…” Unless you’re a princess in disguise who needs a personal bodyguard, I don’t think you can help me, she added silently. Then, suddenly, she was struck with an idea.

“The castle!” she whispered excitedly to Imi. The mockingbird blinked her beady eyes at December in confusion. December was aware of how strange she looked, talking to a bird, so she smiled at the woman on the horse and bade her farewell. Then she hurried over towards a grove of trees, where a young man was playing beautiful violin music. Ordinarily, December would have stopped and admired the music, for the one who played it had extraordinary talent and skill. But she was eager to confide her new plan to her one companion, and didn’t want to look crazy by talking to her bird. “The castle, Imi! It’s the perfect place. If anyone needs a mercenary, they’ve got to live in the castle…I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before.”

Imi whistled and twittered warningly. December nodded, as if she could understand what her friend was saying. “I know there isn’t much hope, but it’s the only chance we’ve got here…and I need employment! I need a job to live, Imi. Even if I am…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that she could be overheard; and she didn’t want anyone to find out her heritage if they didn’t know already. She straightened up and resumed her calm composure, walking up to the violinist.

Now that she was focusing on his music, she was nearly overwhelmed by its beauty. She hadn’t heard such music in a long time. It almost reminded her of home…where her family would gather and sing such songs no mortal could ever make a pale imitation of. Although this music was a far cry from the ones of the seraphim, she was captivated by it. She wished she had some money to spare, for his ability was really incredible, but she was as penniless as he. Still, she was never one to let good, solid skill go unpraised—so she waited until he was finished playing. The castle—and its lordly inhabitants—wasn’t going anywhere. She could wait. Imi grew restless and flew off, probably to become a gull again, but December knew she would be back soon. She smiled dreamily as she let herself get carried away in the young man’s music.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled so.

[Aveilthé]

The song he was now playing was "Nella Fantasia",
though of course it was a violin version. The sound
reverberating from skillful hands may seem unearthly,
affecting the spirit and soul so. He proceeded such a
song just as the odd but fair maiden approached his
midst. His heart seem to do a few backflips, and even
skipped a beat, for she had noticed him! His grin would
widen as the girl stepped up to him. Now he had
a new audience... a pretty girl watching. Inclining his
head, he'd pick up the beat. The song changed, to a violin
solo of Duelling Violins, and began to tap his feet
in time with the song. It was all to the impress the young
maiden, for she was attractive - but as he'd smile, and
observe her form, there seemed to be something quite
unnatural to her - perhaps all the more reason why
he felt attracted to her being, for he possessed
something of a darker nature.

He ended his song and tap with a finale; boots clopped
to a halt, and he slid his bow down to his side. He'd then
do a kind of bow, to show that he has finished. Raising
himself up straight, he'd hold the tail of his violin and
bow in the same hand, so his other hand'll be free.
Extending his hand to the girl, he would try to grasp her
hand in his palm. Dipping his head, he'd speak, his
words obviously holding a strange dialect.

"M'lady. It tis a pleasure to be playing for a young
maiden such as yourself." His green eyes would flash
as he would gently brush his lips against the top of her
fleshy hand... that is, if she allowed it.

[Mama Z]

((Seriously? Lmao, ok I wasnt critizing you or anything, but hers is almost the same way save she is playing a sax and not a violin. Ok I'll stop spamming this board now/ ^^))

[Felypsa]

December was impressed with the young man’s ability, and when he ended the last song, which was both lively and beautiful, she opened her mouth to compliment him. But to her surprise, he was already speaking to her, and to her further astonishment, he softly kissed the back of her hand. She had only ever seen that happen among the nobility—never had anyone done that for her. Because she was a mercenary, not a lady. Because she was a half-breed, not a full-blooded human. Well, in any case—if this man detected anything unearthly about her, he didn’t shun her for it. That in itself was surprising, but pleasantly so.

Startled though she was, she was not at all flustered by his attention. “The pleasure is all mine, to be your audience,” she replied smoothly. “Your skill is really quite incredible. I haven’t heard such music in a long time. I’m only sorry I cannot pay you for such a performance, for you surely deserve more than a few coins.” She nodded to his violin case, where the money was gathered, including the two gold coins the girl on the horse had just thrown in. “Have you ever played at court?” she asked of Fortuné, glancing at the far-off castle. “You certainly have the talent for it.”

Just then, Imi wheeled back to her shoulder, twittering agreeably. December looked at her, lifted one eyebrow, then turned back to Fortuné. “Forgive me; I forget my manners. My name is December.” She dipped her head courteously.[/color]

[Aveilthé]

Green eyes manifested all his cheerfullness as he
poised himself up, serenely contemplating December's
words.

"Happiness resides not in posessions and not in gold;
the feeling of happiness dwells in the soul. You're
happiest while you're making the greatest contribution.
I play music for people, and the greatest gift... is
hearing their appreciation for it. In the meantime, I
try to make a little gold to keep living like most men. I
don't require much... food comes easier for me."

Odd how he was saying this, for his last words sounded
almost ominous if an individual listened closely. While
he was speaking to December, he turned and bent
his knees to collect the gold, placing the few coins into
a small black leather pouch he kept at his belt. Then,
he gently placed his violin and bow into the case. Before
closing it, he fingered the rich wooden surface of his
violin, as if lost in thought. He'd then snap the case
shut, before he stood up once more, his case at his side.

"December," he echoed, trying out her name on his
tongue as he turned jovially to her.
"The name is the embodiment of elegance, Miss
December. And you... are an epitome of beauty.
I have seen you from afar, and it pleases me that you
came. If I might guess, I would think that you were an
angel that had fallen from the heavens." He would cease
speaking, to allow the moment of cloud nine to ascend.
His heart seem to do another backflip as he spoke
his name.

"Mine is Fortuné Peroché the Violinist. The court..."
he paused, panick beginning to surface. "N-no... I'd
rather work alone. My music belongs to the streets
of Escavas." He would glance fondly at the streets,
and the sky, to which stars already
peeked from the spacial heavens. "Tis lucky I have
chosen this spot, or I would not have seen you,
December." He grinned like a stupid lovesick colt.

The sap.

"Pet bird," he pointed out, returning from his reverie,
but still grinning as he gestured at December's shoulder.

[Felypsa]

December luckily suppressed a snort, and merely smiled instead. But this man was spouting off inspirational garbage. Yes, yes, it felt good to do something right, she knew that, but it didn’t help to feed her or buy a place to live. Pride got people nowhere—they just felt like it did.

Then the violinist—Fortuné, December told herself—began praising her. She kept smiling, for who doesn’t like to hear that they’re pretty, no matter how empty the words might be? But when he compared her to a celestial angel, her eyes widened very slightly. Did he know, or was he just grasping for the nearest simile of beauty that came to his mind, hoping to impress her? In either case, it was too close to the truth for comfort.

But then he was going on, explaining why he did not seek the court, but was content to stay here on the streets. December lifted an eyebrow, and wondered at this. His philosophy, again, was all very nice, but it didn’t make life any easier. December belonged nowhere and to no one, save for the seraphim in the heavens. But on this mortal world, she was not emotionally attached to anything—give her a well paying job, a warm meal every night, and a soft bed to sleep in, no matter where it came from, and she would be satisfied. This was life, after all: it was best to survive.

Imi warbled in her ear, and she realized that he had referred to the mockingbird, albeit unintelligently. “Oh, Imi’s not a pet, necessarily,” December said, grinning at her friend. “More of just a companion who puts up with me and follows me around. Not entirely sure why.” Imi chirped happily and fluttered over to Fortuné, flying around his head before returning to December’s shoulder. “Well, what do you know,” December remarked, smiling. “She likes you. I think.” Imi twittered a cheerful and positive reply.

[Aveilthé]

Ironic how two unearthly beings were to meet on
the street like this - and yet neither person did not
understand who they truly were. It was almost like
being at a masquerade.

Fortuné's dark past, not yet divulged - or perhaps
never may be to December, was carefully concealed.
He made sure that everything he was saying, was to be
said in an insignificant riddle or so... it was even harder
trying to control his feelings, or to convey expressions
that would reveal who he really was.
Even though his curse was powerful, flowing like
venom in his veins, he had all the right in the world
to act normal. That was his goal, but at certain intervals
he felt a bizarre kick in his gut, and his head
aching to a point that caused him to convulse until
he seemed anything but human.

"Perhaps, I know why," Fortuné replied sheepishly.
"Who couldn't resist following a woman like you? Ahh...
Hello, little Imi," he piped, extending a finger to stroke
the bird's glossy plummage. "Such a creature is
rather intelligent, as if she understands everything you
and I say. You can see it in 'er eyes." His eyes would
flash as the bird fluttered back to December's shoulder.

It was then that the familiar cataclysm besotted his
eyes - for a moment, they glistened red, as if hell-fire itself
sprung forward, but a second later it dissapeared.
He dropped his violin case, to which hit the ground
with a soft thud. Fortuné simply stood there,
mentally stupefied. His gut felt hollow, and his
veins felt like ice. Cold Beads of sweat
began to dampen his forehead. Fortuné forced his
lips into a weak smile - not a grin this time,
for he was afraid to divulge something else... something
that would perhaps terrify the girl he was falling for.
Averting his head, he slowly bent down to pick up
his case, feeling his heart race and his head
pound like a hammer against steel.

[Felypsa]

December exchanged a look with Imi when Fortuné remarked on Imi's intelligence; Imi was, of course, far cleverer than this man would believe. But before December could reply to his continual praises, she noticed Fortuné doing most peculiar actions. First of all, he dropped his violin case. December didn't know a great deal about instruments, having never learned to play one herself, but she had a feeling that it is not usually a good idea to drop one on the ground. Fortuné was not doing this for show. She met his eyes for a moment, and to her surprise, thought they glittered crimson. But she blinked, and his eyes were normally colored once more, though she was suspicious: surely she hadn't imagined it? Still, he seemed to be out of sorts, sick even...December tilted her head to the side, slightly alarmed but not willing to show it.

"Glory above," she murmured. "You're not looking too well, I'd say." She knew she wouldn't be much help to him if he were sick, since she had never been sick in her life, though she had to watch over some of her fellow mercenaries a few times. She figured that the best thing to do now was to get Fortuné to a place where he could sleep. Sleep worked wonders. "Do you have a home, or someplace where you can stay and rest?" she asked him. Indeed, he seemed rather pale and sweaty - not very healthy signs. Yet it was so sudden - that was what alarmed her. To conceal her concern, she reached down to pick up his violin case, for she felt that it was best that Fortuné not burden himself with it. Imi fluttered around her head, betraying the alarm that December was trying to hide.[/color]

[Aveilthé]

Passersby looked around in curiousity of who made such
racket; it was becomming a bit quieter now that night
has fallen. Most people moseyed off to go home to regain
their strength for tomorrow. Hopefully a fresh batch of
fish will welcome the market for them.

Just as Fortuné's fingers closed around the case, and though
his face was shadowed by his hair, he'd look around
at December. "I got it..." he murmered softly, though his
fingers weakly tugged at it - she got to it first obviously,
and thus he let it go to allow her to pick it up for him.
As he was pushing himself to his feet, hesitation crossed
his mind. "Th... thank you..." The words flew from his lips
like gentle North Wind's. His bright green eyes
wandered over to the west, where the sun had already
dissapeared over the hills and beyond... to awaken
another world below.

"I... feel fine." He unconsciously lifted his hand to his
heart, but otherwise reached his other forward as if
asking for his case back. "I have no home... the streets,
are my home... The people here... they provide for me."
Yet more ominous words, yet he spoke as if they were
words of deepest regret. "Everyone here... are in peril.
I must get away, away from them, away from you...!"
With that, he staggered away, yet forgot his violin case.
They were still in December's hands. He would soon
dissapear amongst the crowds, though people were
yelling in outrage, "How rude!"

Perhaps the angelic mercenary should follow. Though
Fortuné knew not of her identity (and vice versa),
perhaps she could stop him, with whatever he
was about to do next. For he was, after all, a
vampire. And a vampire running amongst hundreds
of human beings on the street was
not a good idea. One of them might get...
killed.

[Felypsa]

December stared at Fortuné as a teacher would stare a particularly duncelike student, a look of disbelief in her violet eyes. "Sure, you feel fine...and I'm actually a platypus in disguise," she muttered. "You are clearly not fine - " But he had already wandered away, pushing through the night crowds. December was suddenly aware that though it was only twilight, it was very, very dark out. And why in the brightest havens did Fortuné think that everyone here was in danger? The only danger she was in currently was frostbite, for when the sun had set, it had taken with it all warmth the day had offered. It was frightfully cold and dark - yet December was not frightened, though she was concerned. "What a nutcase," she said to Imi, who had become a phoenix to stay warm. The bird's flaming feathers gave off a light that December found useful - and she realized she was still holding Fortuné's case in her hand.

"He's lost his mind!" she said. "Leaving his most prized possession with a stranger..." Still muttering to herself crossly, she began to follow him, pushing through the throngs herself. The pedestrians were very irritated at a second such pushy person, but December didn't care a whit. By the time she had gotten through the masses, Fortuné was a good distance away - December could barely make him out in the darkness.

December shivered, but not only from the cold. "I've a bad feeling about this," she confided to Imi, who chirped gravely. Instinctively, the half-seraph brought out her sword Seraphim, just in case. Then she began to jog after Fortuné, with Imi speeding silently behind her as a small snowy owl. December did not call out to the violinist, for that would surely attract attention, which was the last thing December wanted right now. What she wanted most of all was to get to the bottom of this.

After a while she caught up to Fortuné. It wasn't hard - he was moving slowly, and she had been almost running. "You forgot your violin," she informed him once she came within his hearing range. "And I really think that it's best to find an inn, so you can lie down and sleep. I don't care what you say, you're not well, you're not fine, and you're the one in danger, not me or anyone else." She kept the violin case with her left hand and Seraphim in her right, loosely but readily. The crystal sword glinted palely even in the encompassing darkness. "I'm not giving your case back until you come back and find a place to sleep," she added as a threat.

Imi landed on December's shoulder, still in her snowy owl form, apparently having forgotten that he didn't know her transforming abilities. She blinked owlishly at him, then warbled in concern. She remembered then that he only knew her as a mockingbird, which she became once more, though it was less warm. Once she was the familiar-looking mockingbird, she flew over to him, whistling encouragement to the ailing young man.[/color]

[Aveilthé]

Fortuné had his back turned from the approaching
December. He had halted in the darker area of the city,
to where little or no humans came - it was more so
an alley way, where two dingy houses loomed over
his body. Something seemed odd, however. A body
dangled from Fortuné's arms, though the body of an
elder man squirmed a bit. Muffled shouts were heard,
but stifled as Fortuné grasped the human's head.
Though December may perhaps not be able to see
properly - since Fortuné did have his back facing
her - blood can be seen, creating a crimson rivulette
down the human's clothes and skin.

Fortuné dropped the human body as he heard
December's sweet voice. Slowly, he turned around, his
green eyes glowing eerily, and his face speckled and
congealed with fresh blood... that wasn't his own.
His lips were parted just half an inch,
to partially reveal lethal fangs. He was most definitely
not human. Though eyes stared at the girl diabolically,
there was a hint of intense sadness glittering there.

For a long moment, Fortuné breathed heavily, but did
not speak. He'd drop to his knees, hunching over as if
he were going to be sick.

And yet, he kept still and quiet. His head turned when
the human beside him squirmed, and moaned. Raising
a fist, Fortuné punched through the ill-fated human's
stomach.

"You see?" he throatily growled, looking up to
December as he crouched over the lifeless man.
"You see now why I live in the streets... they do not
trust me, and now you know why!" He rose himself up,
gesturing at the human beneath him. He wiped his
mouth with the back of his sleave, staining it with
crimson. "This is the life I am cursed with!" He nearly
shouted this statement. "And I hate it! You have no
idea, what it's like to hunt these innocent people here,
and to feel the rush of their sweet blood trickle down
my throat... Their flesh has never satisfied me... but
it satisfies the vampire within!"

And with that, he wept. "I wish I hadn't lured you to
me with my song... then you wouldn't have known..."
He stared at the warbling mockingbird, unable to speak
any more.