[PM to Join] Of fire and fiddles

[Aodh Elzo]

Afternoon, 16th Yaris. 2719

Back in Uptown, back in the market, stood with his violin case open before him a few coins glinting against its faded red lining.

"All across the sea
And I fell to sleep
Dreaming of my daughters.
Now I wait for thee
Calling night and day
Rosie, lay with me
Deep beneath the waters."

As the last note faded of Rosie Rook a few coins were thrown into the case and Aodh smiled his thanks. Today he wore a faded blue and grey checked waistcoat or a linen shirt and brown trousers with a black pinstripe. From his spot on the corner he could see the Black Cat Smithy, and also keep an eye on the roving Seventen patrols.

He raised his fiddle to his shoulder and started another song.

“There were three young gypsies came to our hall door
They came brave and boldly-o
And one sang high and the other sang low
And the other sang a raggle taggle gypsy-o
It was upstairs downstairs the lady went
Put on her suit of leather-o
And there was a cry from around the door
She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o
It was late that night when the Lord came in
Enquiring for his lady-o
And the servant girl she said to the Lord
"She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o"

The passing folk enjoyed the song and threw in the odd coin.
The song was an old favourite in the Dives, less popular with the galdor, Aodh didn’t care, he carried on singing.

"What care I for my house and my land?
What care I for my money-o?
I'd rather have a kiss from the yellow gypsy's lips
I'm away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o!"

As the song finished, again Aodh bowed with a smile, a few more coins hit the faded red velvet of the case.
He bent and scooped the coins from his case and put them in his pocket. As he packed the fiddled back in its case he took a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it.

Aodh carried the battered violin case as he strolled casually over to the smithy. Outwardly he looked every bit the untroubled wick busker enjoying a smoke on a fine Yaris day. Inwardly he was alert, watching his surroundings noting the position of the Seventen patrols.

Aodh took one last drag on his cigarette, pinched it out and put it into a pocket.
He walked up to the entrance and said, his voice easy and friendly.

"Hesta Miss Cat, far'ye? I was wonderin' if I could ask about some work I might need doin."

[Catriona Fraser]

on the 16th of Yaris, 2719 • afternoon

Cat had slept late for the first time in several years. Ever since she’d been left with the smithy, she’d awakened before sunrise and worked herself til sunset and every once in a while took a break or a day off, but she’d never missed the sunrise. Today, however, she felt justified. She checked her face in a metal pan and could see no marks. How often had that woman slapped her for disrespect? Too many times to count. And then she’d shortchanged her. Cat had been expecting it. She’d also every intention of arguing it out with the woman. But she had no way of knowing what she would say, what she would do. Her words rang in Cat’s ears like a lingering nightmare.
Still, though it wasn’t as much as she’d expected, it was still a lot of money and Cat prayed to Vita she’d never have to see her again. So Cat earned herself a morning snooze. By the time she had gotten out of bed, it was the middle of the day. She decided to throw herself into making the best silk shears ever made and was soon sitting in the workshop, carving the shape to be used in making a mold. It was then that she heard Mr. Elzo at the door.

She answered the door looking worse for wear. She had no visible injuries but she looked sick to her stomach. She wore a plain loose shirt and a pair of leather breeches. Her eyes were still red and she looked for all the world as if she were in mourning. Still she smiled at Aodh half-heartedly and made ready with a notepad. ”Mr. Elzo,” she wrote, afraid of misspelling his first name. “what a pleasant surprise.” She then flipped the pages in the notepad to one that already had something written on it. “How can I help you?”
She’d found that it was easiest to write where the other person could see, so that instead of standing there waiting, they could follow her scribblings. She also found that if they were focusing on the paper, it was easier to hide her facial expressions. Cat had never been good at writing or spelling. She could communicate but it took a lot of effort to make things legible on paper. Thank Vita she could make numbers or she’d never be paid.

[Aodh Elzo]

16th of Yaris, 2719. Afternoon

At the sight of Cat, Aodh was immediately concerned, though he hid it as best he could. He shifted his attention to notepad in her hand and read the words written there, he smiled. Then he glanced around the street again, subtly so anyone on the street wouldn’t notice, but Cat would see it clear enough.

"Well I was wonderin’ if you’d be able to make me a banjo frame? I can draw what I was thinkin’, if you’ve spare paper inside.”

He didn't want to say the real reason he was there, not on the street. Aodh had come for a name, a reckoning was over do as he saw it. How to broach the subject with Cat would be tricky, couldn't just ask her if she wanted vengeance against the jent bitch. Aodh decided to sound her out about it, play it by ear, he grinned slightly to himself at that.

He took in her appearance again, again concern rouse in him, now it had the edges of anger to it. That galdor was to blame he was sure.

"If'n it's a bad time, I can come another day."

[Catriona Fraser]

on the 16th of Yaris, 2719 • afternoon

Cat watched Aodh with curiosity. She had only ever heard of banjos and had certainly never made one. But the way he was eyeing his surroundings told her there was a non-banjo related reason he was here. A flash of suspicion crossed her face but she quickly rid herself of it. After he had treated her so kindly, Cat chided herself for even considering it and besides, the Galdor woman would never be involved with a wick.

She stepped back to let him enter, debated for a moment and then shut the door. The workshop was a bit more disheveled than the last time he’d seen it and that was saying something. Tools that had been hanging on the walls were now sitting wherever there was room on the workbenches. The mirror that had once been on the wall by her bed was gone as well and there were little glass shards on the floor that looked like they’d been missed in the initial cleanup.

Still, Cat smiled at Aodh and took a seat in one of the chairs, gesturing to a second one for him to sit in. She wrote on the paper as he did and handed it to him, “I’ve actually only seen a banjo once and I’ve never gotten a close look but you can use this paper to sketch and I will do my best.”

She watched him quietly and inquisitively, unable to help but wonder what his true purpose for being here was. Of course he could just need a banjo...but she doubted it.

[Aodh Elzo]

16th of Yaris, 2719. Afternoon

Aodh took in the state of the workshop, spotted the shining shards of broken glass. He looked back to Cat and sat down in the offered chair. He took the paper read it and smiled, he took a stub of pencil from a pocket and did a quick simple sketch of a banjo, as he drew he said.

"There's another reason I'm here Miss Cat. Last time me an' Miss Weaver was 'ere. There was a jent woman here."

Aodh handed back the paper and looked Cat in the eye, his eyes held a memory of the anger he'd felt that day.

"Way she treated you, fair made my blood boil. Still does. I know there are folks who'll tell you not to worry, to leave it, that that's just the way of things."

He leant forward, letting his day to day mask slip a bit. Showing the man he truly was, the man who had given up a life he loved, with his family and the freedom of the road.
To stay in a city he often hated and to fight a lonely war he doubted they could win.

"But I ain't sayin' that. I am here to ask if you want something done."

Aodh wouldn't say what, never give details. However his intent was clear enough.

"All I'm askin' for is a name."

He sat back then, relaxed and smile.
Well, it was out in the air now, he would not push her for answer.

[Catriona Fraser]

on the 16th of Yaris, 2719 • afternoon

And there it was. Cat’s brow furrowed as his friendly face gave way to eyes that told of much deeper anger and perhaps even vengeance. And just as suddenly as they came, they were gone again. How easy it would be to give him a name and damn the consequences. But there was more at stake here than whatever would come to the woman.

Cat took the drawing of the banjo and looked over it intently. It was an easy enough frame and if she was feeling artsy she could even make it look quite stunning. It was the same mechanics as any other stringed instrument but Cat rarely made them as most were made of wood, not metal. She knew of someone who she could go to and get a good look at theirs before she made one on her own. She wrote on the paper, “I’m sure I can make this. I’ve never made one before though so cost of materials up front and I’ll have no idea what it’ll cost beyond that until I’ve made it.”

Then she pulled out a second notepad and wrote on it slowly and carefully, considering each word she wrote. “I’ve been through a lot at the hands of the Galdori. They are certainly not my favorite people. And most days I’d give anything to see one such as her brought low. But there are things. Things she knows about me that she shouldn’t. And until I figure out how she knows them, the last thing I want to do is antagonize her.”

She ripped the paper off the pad and handed it to him and watched him closely as he read it. What could this violin and banjo playing busker do about her problems? And why would he want to help her?

She subconsciously reached for the scar on her cheek, quietly contemplating what the woman had told her. She’d known her full name. That alone was not common knowledge but Cat had supposed she could have learned it from her Teacher if perhaps they’d been in contact. But then she’d known about her past, very specifically, how she lost her tongue and that was something she’d never told a single person. There were only a few people who knew what happened that day. A few wicks and...and him. She couldn’t even let herself think about it but none could mistake the fear on her face.

Before Aodh could finish reading, she was already writing again. “I can give you a name. But if you want to help, I need information...not revenge, and I want to be there when you get it.”

She handed him that paper and went back to carving the wooden parts of shears as she waited for his reply.

[Aodh Elzo]

16th of Yaris, 2719. Afternoon

Aodh sat back, he watched as Cat wrote. He wondered at the history of this woman, he would not pry, that wasn't his way. However if she gave him the name and agreed, then he would burn the house of that jent bitch to the ground, and close up all the doors with wooden wedges so none might escape the blaze. A tragedy in Uptown, Firebrand grinned his wolves grin, he could practically see the flames.

He took the first paper read it and gave a nod, he had no doubt she could do it, Aodh smiled in thanks.

The next paper however he read twice and then studied Cat's face, saw the scar and the seriousness in her eyes. Someone had hurt her, deeper than he could guest, but he knew the signs and he nodded slightly. When he spoke his tone was solemn and he lent forward.

"Aye, boemo Miss Cat, I reckon I understand. I'll see what I can do"

A little something of that wolf's grin played on his face.

"I'm not just a passable musician ye chen? I reckon I can get into the jent's house easy enough. Have a dig around. Takin' her someplace, that'd be trickier."

He looked thoughtful, again studied her face.

"But I've friends who might help, if that's what you'd be wantin'?"

[Catriona Fraser]

on the 16th of Yaris, 2719 • afternoon

Offers of revenge were not often made so openly. Offers to help her investigate even less so. And this stranger, this wick who knew so little about her had seen a Galdor slap her and decided she was worth avenging.

A droplet appeared on the paper that Cat was writing on. She stared at it, as though she were unsure where it came from and continued to attempt to form words on the page. To write things out in this fashion, to try and convey just how deeply angry she was through the stroke of a pen, only made her angrier. And as she tried to mark out the words she wanted to say to Aodh, she found herself quite blind with tears of rage that poured forth out of nowhere. She tried to wipe them away unnoticed but they were instantly replaced by fresh ones, ready to do their duty in making her completely useless.

To say Cat was quiet would be a disservice to her. Mute, though she may be, her sobs and cries made a wide range of obnoxious and embarrassing sounds. It occurred to her that this was the second time she’d cried in front of strangers in this workshop. Who were these people who were so caring that her mask just seemed to drop in their presence?

After what seemed like forever, although likely was only a few minutes of emotional torment, Cat took her smock and wiped her face on it. She smiled at Aodh and shook her head, as if she were rolling her eyes at some other person making all this fuss.

She picked up the dropped tablet and began writing again, this time determined to make herself understood. It took some time to write it all down and as she did, she occasionally stopped to look up at him and smile apologetically.

The woman’s name is Isolda Greer. Her husband is a Seventen, Harry Greer. I’m not sure what division. They live in a fair large house here in uptown, old money, I’d guess. He hardly had the position to earn such a house himself.

She threatened to reveal information about my past to others if I do not make myself available to her beck and call. I’m sure this information would be filtered to present me in a less than desirable light. I don’t know why she wants me as her errand girl and I don’t know how she came by this information or how much she actually knows. But I do know she is angry, and I can’t think of anything I did to earn her ire.

As for taking her somewhere, I don’t know. I don’t know what I want, but I know I don’t want to sit here while someone else does all the work. If you are going to just break in and get information, then by all means do so.

Also I apologize for my outburst. Believe it or not this has been a very off week for me.

After she passed the paper to Aodh, she rubbed her temples and stood up, pacing back and forth across the workshop, occasionally straightening some tools or brushing some dirt around, waiting for his answer. She couldn’t write down what she really wanted. For him to take that woman where she’d never see the light of day again. Where she would be left to wonder for the rest of her days what she had done to deserve it, because that was how Cat had lived every day for the past nine years. But putting that on paper would have taken her at least another hour and she didn’t have that kind of time.

[Aodh Elzo]

16th of Yaris, 2719. Afternoon

When Cat started to cry Aodh didn't know what to do, he wanted to go to her. To comfort her somehow, but he didn't know how. He took the handkerchief from his waistcoat and lent towards her it help out in his hand.

"Miss Cat I am fair sorry I can't understand sign, an' I'm sorry my talk has upset ya so."

As she took up the tablet again and continued writing he watched her face and waited.

Aodh nodded when he took the paper and read it.

As he read his frown deepened and his jaw creaked as it clenched, Greer. Harry Greer oh he knew that bastard well enough. He reckoned he could find the house easily enough.

"You've nothin' to apologize for, not ta me. I should be the sorry one. You leave these names wit' me. If there's anything in the jent's house o' use I'll find it."

He gave that old wolf's grin.

"Then, once we've the serpent's fangs we can see 'bout a reckonin'. She earned it, an' well Harry Greer, he's had his comin' a while."

Aodh nodded, maybe he'd find something the Resistance could use? He wondered about talking to Ava about it, that and it'd be good to see her again.

"And Miss Cat, if there's anythin' else I can do to help. Just let me know."

Aodh smiled and said.

"An' please, call me Aodh,"

He wrote his name on the piece of paper and handed it back with a smile, he knew it was could be a nightmare to spell. He'd struggled with enough growing up.

[Catriona Fraser]

on the 16th of Yaris, 2719 • afternoon

Taking his handkerchief seemed the proper thing to do, and it gave Cat something to clench in her fists as he spoke. It, of course, was not his talk that had upset her. Nor was it even the current situation. More than anything, she was tired of being weak, tired of being preyed upon again and again and constantly needing to rely on the kindness of strangers to swoop in and save her. Yet here she was again.

She wanted to be different, to feel different. She wanted to be braver. Hell, she made blades for a living and couldn’t even really wield one. ‘Enough to know the right weight.’ Was all Mr. Raynarus was comfortable teaching her. And the crossbow she’d procured, well, she was every bit as good as she was when she purchased it.

No wonder she hadn’t met the resistance yet. They likely took one look at her and hurried along, or even more likely, never took notice of her at all.

As she took the paper back that Aodh had written his name on, she nodded, making note of the spelling, and then made a sign across her face holding her hand in the shape of a fist and brushing it downward over her chin and then pointed back at where he’d written his name hoping he’d understand without her needing to write it down. Now she could at least greet him without writing.

She wrote back to him, “No one learns sign unless they need it, same as any other language. I am grateful for your kindness and your willingness to help. If you see Miss Ava before I do, let her know I’ll have her shears within the next few days.”

With that, she promptly dropped all the writings in a tin and dropped a lit match in with it. It was a common practice of hers for many obvious reasons. Words spoken in conversation were meant to leave no trace, no evidence. She kept the banjo sketch and laid it on her work table.

She ushered him out of her workshop. Once he was out the door, she angrily wiped the tears that were forming again and began throwing herself into making the best damn silk shears in Vienda.