[PM to Join] Words and Weaves

[Aodh Elzo]

Early afternoon. 21st Yaris, 2719.

Aodh had been mulling over his best course of action for getting information for Cat. As much as he wanted just to make the jent bitch and her corrupt bastard of a husband pay, she'd asked him to learn what she knew and that was what he would do.

He'd be so close to telling her he was with the Resistance, that they would help. Hells he'd of invited to join, but that wasn't his place, he was worried he'd overplayed his hand as it was but he'd be so damn angry.

So he'd offered to break in to the uppity jents house and see what he could find.
However, he reckoned it would take more than that, and with a Seventen in the house he'd need to be careful and make a proper plan.

That was why Aodh was strolling through Painted Ladies on that particular Yaris afternoon. He was wearing faded russet corduroy trousers, blue collarless shirt sleeves rolled up, a broad brown belt and his old brown work boots freshly brushed and polished. Though the Yaris dust had coated then by the time he reached Woven Delights.

Aodh had even dragged a brush through his wild hair.

He checked his appearance in the plate glass of the shop next door before heading into Ava's small kingdom. As he walked in he glanced around, subtly to check for customers. He smiled broadly and said in a cheery tone, looking every bit the polite customer or neighbour.

"Hesta Miss Weaver, far'ye?"

If anyone was about he'd inquire about a new waistcoat, he was in need of one anyway.

[Ava Weaver]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

T
he heat had risen steadily over the last half of the week before, and seemed to have reached a fever pitch, all Vienda boiling together at the first quarter mark of summer. There was a sense of tension in the air that even the scattered clouds overhead could not break, and people on the streets were irritable and dusty, snapping at one another.

But when one pushed open the door into Woven Delights, the air seemed to cool and lower; there was a sense of calmness inside, of peace, and the floor was miraculously clean of dust (not, in truth, any kind of miracle so much as Ava’s habit of taking a broom to it as soon as there was a break between customers). A second set of curtains had been pulled over the inside of Ava’s display window – not the thick, heavy ones she used to seal herself off from the world at night, but a lighter pale yellow set, summery, which set off the display from outside, and inside blocked the harshness of the sun from reaching her.

“I think the yellow would be a lovely choice for your own windows as well, Mrs. Caron,” Ava said, smiling. She gestured to the curtains, stepping out from behind the counter to lead the older woman towards them. She was a neighbor – not Ava’s same street, but not too distant either, in a corner of the Painted Ladies where luxuries such as curtains in canary yellow cotton were just barely affordable, where one could swap them out between seasons: lighter in the summer, heavier in the winter, colors that might – might! – fade over time.

“It’s a secret, just between us,” Ava said, with an easy smile, “but this is the third dry season I’ve used these,” she took a corner of yellow fabric in one hand, gently turning it over, and extended it to Mrs. Caron. “Hardly any fading, even with direct sunlight most of Roalis and Yaris both.”

“Oh, they are lovely,” Mrs. Caron said, with just a trace of wistfulness to her voice. She had been almost hesitant to take the curtain fabric, but now she was rubbing the soft cotton between her fingers. “The third dry season, really? And Roalis as well?”

“And Roalis as well, when needed,” Ava promised.

A hint of summery sun spilled in through the gap, shimmering against her dress. The summery, silky pale green had been an optimistic look forward to summer when she had had it made in the rainy season; now, in the heart of Yaris heat, it was as comfortable as she had hoped, the pale color not too indulgent even in the harsh summery sun. The dress had wide sleeves, flaring at the bottom with little curls of pink floral cuffs peeking out over Ava’s wrists, a rounded detailing white across the front, with two little rows of pink and green swirling across round, fabric-coated buttons. The line of the dress tucked in neatly at the waist, and from there fell almost straight to the ground. Never did she lose that gently sloping human hem at the bottom, pointed softly at the front and back.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Elzo,” Ava smiled at the wick as the bell tinkled to signal his entry into the shop, looking up from her spot next to the window. “It’s lovely to see you. I hope you’ve been well?”

When Aodh asked about the waistcoat, Ava nodded. “Perhaps a purple color?" She suggested, smiling. “It might be a little daring for summer, but it should see the season through, and be quite nice in winter.” She gestured with a graceful twist of one hand towards a shelf of purple fabrics, ranging from soft cotton to smooth silk to sharp satin, some plain, some pre-embroidered, some waiting ready for it. “I’ll be just a moment,” she promised, with a perfectly neutral amount of warmth in her voice, no more or less than any other customer.

With that, Ava turned back to Mrs. Caron. They went back across the shop to the counter; Ava did not rush the older woman in the slightest, nodding and discussing curtains with such rapt focus that it was as if nothing else in the world existed for her, nothing but fabrics. Mrs. Caron left her with a pre-paid order for two sets of the yellow curtains, written out on a neat slip for Ava to cut that night, and a promise to come back the next day to pick them up.

The bell tinkled softly behind her to signal the closing of the door. Ava wrote out the last details on the order slip, and turned to Aodh in the silence, waiting, her smile still no less professional than it had been. She would let him tell her why he had come, but already Ava knew it was nothing to do with waistcoats – not really.

[Aodh Elzo]

Early afternoon. 21st Yaris, 2719.

The interior of Woven Delights was an oasis on a hot day such as this, once Aodh’s eyes had adjusted to the change in light he saw Ava speaking with a customer and his heart rattled its cage. She was a vision in pale green, her smile of welcome balm to his soul.

He returned the greeting and inquired about a waistcoat, as had been his plan in case of customers. Aodh was surprised by Ava’s recommendation, he’d never worn purple, as it was a colour of fabric he could not easily afford, or at least that had always been his assumption. Yet here he was proved wrong, though his eyes were drawn to the silk and satins. such beautiful fabrics. For a moment saw himself in a fine silk brocade waistcoat of rich purple, then he gave a soft and bitter laugh, that would never happen and he should not waste time with such idle fantasies.

At the jingling of the bell signaling the customer leaving Aodh turned from fabrics to face Ava and smiled.

"Miss Weaver, tis fair good to see ya. Epaemo for comin’ when you’ve customers. Though your selection of fine fabrics has caught my eye, ya really think I'd suit purple?

Aodh smiled warmly, at times he did wish he was just the simple man he played, that this was just a visit between friends to inquire about a new garment, and yet.

"I’ve come fer advice, I am more of a one fer action than the planning of it."

He gave a slight laugh and inclined his head, after all who better than Ava knew the truth of this.

"You recall a smith o' our mutual acquaintance? An' some trouble she had."

He looked around the shop, aware that a customer could come in at any moment. While a day time visit had it's risks, one in the dead of night could draw more attention.

"I offered.. a solution. She's asked fer other assistance. In the form o' answers ta questions. I've an idea how ta get um."

He hooked a thumb in his belt and rubbed the back of his neck with the other had, damnation but he must sound like the world's own fool.

[Ava Weaver]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

Ava had a range of purples – linen, the soft lines of the fabric visible beneath the rich colors, eggplant and lilac and orchid and plum – soft cotton, ranging from violet to dark and sweeping through the space between, with patterned fabrics equally at home next to plain ones – silks, gleaming, with a sheen in the delicate cool light, luxurious and lovely, with a few brocade fabrics pricked out in silver and gold threads, tucked up and off the ground, made to be admired even if not worn – satin, too, the brightest of them all, stiffer, gleaming in the light.

“Absolutely,” Ava promised, when Aodh asked if he’d suit purple, and she grinned at him, her eyes crinkling faintly at the edges. In her heart of hearts, never did she wished that she was the simple shopkeeper she played, but she was no less genuine about her encouragement for it. Aodh, she thought, would suit purple very well. Cotton, she thought, not silk or satin – something that he could take the dust out of, at the end of a long day. “A darker color, I think,” Ava suggested, although she did not reach for any one in particular, and she smiled a little more, and did not protest when he took the conversation to what he was really there to discuss.

Ava’s eyebrows lifted, delicately, when Aodh said he was there for advice – when he mentioned Cat. Nothig showed on her face, but she could not but think of the night before – the rushed tangle of Cat’s emotions, spilling out into the shop’s back room on her face and hands, the way she had cut herself off with stillness from going into the details of the sword she had made.

Ava glanced at the door, checking for lingering shadows, and then back at Aodh, and nodded. “Good,” she said, softly. “I’m glad you might be able to help her.”

“This way,” Ava took them to the back room, and left the door open wide, because she could not risk being unable to hear the bell. She sat down gently on one of the couches – the fabric was all smooth and soft, the table swept clean – there was no trace of the pain Aodh had felt perched on the edge of one of those couches, just now barely a month ago, or of the fraught tension Cat had shaken with the night before. The room looked as it always did, soft and welcoming and clean, as if it were an oasis where the rest of the world could not enter.

“Tell me about it,” Ava said, sitting with her back perfectly straight, and looking at Aodh evenly. If she thought him a fool, there wasn’t even the least trace of it in her face or voice, and the slow spreading of a grin across Silk’s face suggested something very different indeed.

[Aodh Elzo]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719

Again unbidden that image of him, scruffy street rat of a tsat dressed in purple like some Up Town dandy and shook it from his head. Foolishness, he refocused on the task at hand.

"I shall do my best Miss Weaver, after what happened."

His jaw clenched at the memory, the burning anger of it and shame at standing by, all past over his face in an instant before he could cram it back down.

As he moved through into the backroom other memories came back to him. Planning the burglary of Blackthorn's house, hiding in the stairwell. His flight battard and shaken from that very house, to the only place of safety he knew, his ankle gave a twinge. It had mostly healed, but it wasn't yet back to the way it had been.

A memento of failure and a reminder to be more careful.

The last memory though made him smile, as he sat down on the couch he remembered playing Ludicrous Heart, the first and only time he had played it to date. Aodh hadn't written it for Ava, but now when he thought of it, he saw her face, how she had looked that night, in his mind's eye.

Aodh was careful not to get dust on the couch as he sat down. Then he looked at Ava, and he saw that grin, the Silk grin and he could not help but grin.

"Aye well, the jent's name is Greer, wife o' one Inspector Harry Greer of the Seventen, Patrol Devision and a right tsuter vreska he is. I've seen him take folk in just for bein' tsat in public."

Firebrand grinned his wolves grin.

"Now I know the address, what I offered was vengeance. Pure an' simple."

He raised a hand.

"But, Cat want's information. This Greer knows somethin' she ain't no business knowin'. So, I said I'll do some digging."

With a flourish, seemingly from nowhere, Firebrand produced a lock pick.

"Ma first though is get inta their fancy Uptown place, maybe even make it look like old fashioned robbery. Hide what I'm actually after?"

He stopped then, returned the lock pick to under his broad belt and looked serious at Ava.

"I'm no wantin' it ta end like Blackthorn's though. I need ta watch the place, get an idea of their comin's an' goin's like. But a wick busker'll stand out like spook at a dinner party. So I came to one o' the smartest folk I know."

He grinned a little sheepishly at that and looked away, 'bloody moonstruck fool. Aodh looked back and smiled and said, his tone sincere.

"So aye, any ideas, or advice ya have'd be fair welcome."

[Ava Weaver]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

Ava saw the anger in her heart written across Aodh’s face; her expression did not change, but something of it glinted in her eyes, the faintest flicker of a reflection in them for just the briefest of moments – echoing that anger and shame back at Aodh, sharing it with him. Ava took the memories and fed them to the fire that burned inside her, that had burned now for years, and never seemed to be long without kindling.

Ava couldn’t help thinking of the last time Aodh had sat on these couches, and the song he had sung for her then. She had not stopped thinking of it, this last month. Her poor ludicrous heart, she thought, longing for things to which it had no right. Rattling the bars of its cage. She had never heard another song like it, not before or since; sometimes, drifting to sleep, the memory of that melody still wove through her mind, the distant half-remembered strains of Aodh’s voice.

It occurred to her to tell him – but Ava knew better than that, and she was not tempted, not really.

There was no trace of those thoughts on her face, though, and Ava’s grin widened when she saw Firebrand’s. She raised her eyebrows at his suggestion – Inspector Harry Greer, she thought. A tsuter vreska he might be, but an inspector of the Seventen was a risky target for vengeance, no matter how well-deserved.

Ava nodded at Aodh’s suggestion, thinking his idea of faking a robbery was a good one. So long as he didn’t take anything they wanted back too badly – and, she thought, so long as he could find a place to leave it. She had heard stories of galdori using the mona to track down what was stolen from them; she didn’t know how true they were. It wasn’t clear to her what conversation that would be, and it was so hard to find someone to ask about such things.

“Yes,” Ava said, softly, when Aodh expressed a desire to go in better prepared, but she didn’t dwell on it, and the word was hardly more than a breath.

Ava’s eyebrows raised when Aodh called her one of the smartest folk he knew, and she – blushed, red color washing over her cheeks. “I…” Ava blinked at him, the compliment utterly unexpected. It was not that she was surprised that Aodh would compliment her – she could not have said that – but the manner of it, and what he had chosen to say, and, in truth, that he had chosen her to help him with this – it touched her deeply.

Ava pressed one hand lightly to her burning cheeks, and took a deep breath, finding her control again. “I hope I can help,” she said, sincerely, and she meant it for Cat’s sake and for Aodh’s own. She looked thoughtful, her face settling into something more serious. “Yes, standing on the corner busking every day might get you noticed,” Ava said, thinking it through aloud. “If only you could get some of the children on the street to report back to you,” she said, lightly, and smiled through the joke, thinking of the little ones who fetched letters and carried parcels back and forth, and how invisible they seemed to be to the galdori.

[Aodh Elzo]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719

When he saw the blush form on Ava's cheeks Aodh wasn't sure what to think, or say. So he ignored it, best to press on keep to the matter at hand. Though he couldn't help but smile, she was willing to help, happy even at what he was doing.

"Aye, tis a shame my days o' passin' as an urchin are long past."

He laugh along at the joke, and then stopped, an idea had struck him.

"Nay, not a child. But there are folk plenty in Uptown who go below the jent's note."

Firebrand's fingers beat a rapid tattoo on his knee as he lent forward.

"Street cleaners, chimney sweeps and the like."

He let out a bark of a laugh.

"Wo chet! But there must be an army of folk who toil to stop the damned gollies from drowning in their own filith. Cause I'm clockin' sure they don't lift a finger to do it their own selves!"

With renewed vigour he was up on his feet, practically dancing as he paced a few steps.

"Between us we must know someone who works a cleanin' crew?"

He bough his right fist into left palm, wolf grin back on his lean face.

"There has ta be a way we can use this, feed it up the chain? Maybe sew some seeds."

A low chuckle then, seeds of destruction and then the jent's will reap the bloody whirlwind!

"If we can get leverage…"

Another small skirmishes in this shadowy war. Firebrand wanted to take more direct action, but setting Uptown a blaze, while satisfying would not help Cat.

[Ava Weaver]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

Ava had meant it at a joke, lightly. It was not that she thought, for a moment, that it was not a cause worth using children for, not if it meant success. She knew all too well that being a child did not make you safe from the galdori, or from the system which enabled them to take your life at a moment’s whim. It was, rather, that she thought it would be a risky strategy for Aodh, even though most human children learned secrecy young; they had little choice. All the same, she had meant it as a joke, even if this was hardly a joking matter, and had appreciated his soft chuckle of a laugh.

But he stopped, abruptly, and Ava saw something like a light go on in his eyes. She leaned forward, carefully, just barely creasing her dress at the waist. “Yes,” Ava said, her eyes widening. “Yes,” she grinned, broadly. “Yes. Or better yet, if you can get hired on the crew,” Ava suggested, eyes bright. “They’ll never see you.” There was no bitterness to it, only excitement.

Ava hesitated, then, her eyes flickering over Aodh, and sat back. She could put enough of the pieces together from what Aodh said, from how upset Cat had been the night before. The Greer woman had known something she had no business knowing – a secret of Cat’s. She did not know exactly what had passed between Cat and Aodh, what he now knew, but they at least both knew, now, that Cat had a secret which could be known.

“Yes,” Ava said, slowly. “I…” She sat back, then, thinking carefully, looking at Aodh.

Feed it up the chain, Ava thought, uneasily. She thought of her own secrets, of the information she had taken from Aodh last time he sat here, about Pendulum. Her secrets were known to some in the Resistance, of course. She was not, exactly, ashamed; it was more complicated than that. She did not wish to be an object of pity, or scorn, and she knew well how easy both were to impose upon a woman. She would not like to think that Aodh, every time he looked at her, thought about –

Ava’s lips pressed together, softly, and she let Aodh see just a flicker of reluctance on her face. “Be careful,” Ava said, slowly. “If Mr. and Mrs. Greer know something about Cat which she does not want shared, then bringing it up the chain might complicate matters. Just… know that, before you act.”

It was, Ava thought, one thing to do it to herself – and even then, she was hesitant and cautious. Even then, she did not like to say, aloud – did not like to think – better if it was simply known, and she did not have to speak on it. There were things which unmade you in the remembering of them, which were easier done than thought about, which, once done, could not be undone. Ava thought of Cat’s scar, of the strangled croak of her laughter, of her aching attempts at making meowing noises to the little gray cat, and she said nothing more.

Perhaps, she thought, Aodh could understand; perhaps he could not. But there were few, among the resistance, who did not have some secret pain in their own lives; there were few, among all the humans and wicks in Anaxas, who did not have some secret pain. And how much damage were they justified in doing, as they attempted to tear the system down? Her life was one that; Ava had pledged that long ago, and gladly. But someone like Cat, not sworn to the cause – not willing, and with a mission of their own undertaking, not one that came from above.

Ava would not have said no, not if it served some higher purpose. But she wondered if Cat would say her own revenge was worth the loss of her secrets; she wondered if she herself would say so.

[Aodh Elzo]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719

Ava was right, he could hire on with a cleaning crew, under a different name of course then work the area. Build up knowledge, that he could bring to bare against the Greer's and any other clocking jent on the street he saw fit.

Firebrand plotted and the light of it burned in him, felt it crackle like lightning in his blood.

At her next words it was like Ava had pulled a switch, Aodh sagged. She was right, of course, he didn't want to harm Cat, after all she, like them all had a right to her secrets.

"Boemo o' course, epaemo. I got caught up.

Aodh smiled then, no wolf's grin, but a warm smile of thanks.

"Mujo ma Miss Weaver, I knew you was the right person ta come to fer this."

He paced a couple more steps, nodded and turned back to Ava.

"So, whatever I find fer Cat, goes just ta her, I'll not even look inta it more then I need. But, anything else I sniff out, something we can use against Greer. That we send up."

He made a fist, like he was getting a grip on something, scarred knuckles stranding out white on his sinewy hand. Teeth bare in that familiar Firebrand grin.

"Get a good grip on the laoso brigk, an'squeeze till he clockin' well squawks."

Opening his fist he shook it out and nodded again.

"Aye, I'll see about a work crew fer Uptown. I was wonderin' you reckon you could find anythin' bout where the Greer's came from?"

He hooked his thumbs in his belt, it was worth a shot he thought, after all Ava or Silk was well connected it seemed. If not he could always have a dig. He smiled again, aye this had been a good idea.

[Ava Weaver]

Early Afternoon, 21 Yaris, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

Ava was sorry for it, when she saw the switch from Firebrand back to Aodh. It was what she wanted; it was exactly what she had intended to happen, and she didn’t regret it in the least, but she was still sorry it had been necessary. Perhaps she could have found another way, a gentler way, but she had wished to make an impression on him, and she had succeeded.

Yes, she thought; Aodh understood.

He apologized, and he smiled, and he thanked her. Ava returned the smile with one of her own - not a grin, but a friendly smile that warmed, slowly, over her face, that told him without words that he was forgiven - that, better still, he was understood. She let it linger too, even as Aodh began to pace once more, and settled Firebrand back over his shoulders like a cloak to keep out the cold.

“Yes,” Silk agreed, and she grinned again, slowly. “It sounds like they are due for a reckoning.”

He asked if she knew anything about the Greers, then. Ava started to say she did not know the name, and then she stopped, and she - thought. She did not know the name, but...

She could not ask around, not exactly. It would be strange for Ava Weaver, shopkeeper, to start asking about a member of the Seventen. She could keep her ears open, of course, and knowing the name would make it easier. There might be ways to go about it, subtly, if she were very careful - and Ava was, almost always, very careful.

What she had been able to share before was remembered, and he had never spoken to her of Inspector Greer of the Seventen Investigative Unit, or his wife. But channels that had once been closed - gladly and with no small measure of relief - had opened again in a new and different way. She would need to be careful, not to reveal too many of Cat’s secrets; the less they all knew, the safer they all were. But she could come to Tom, now, openly, and ask, and let him make his own choices. She did not think he would mind the asking.

“I’ll see what I can learn,” Silk promised. She did not think of telling Aodh that she had seen Cat the night before; she did not think of telling him of the shears, or even to show him the result. There were too many secrets bound up in it, hers and Cat’s both. The less they all knew, Ava thought, the safer they all were.

“I know the street sweeper who works here,” Ava said. She did, too; she had offered him a cup of tea on more than one cold morning, as she had scrubbed dirt from the outside of the house while he worked. She could not afford to be as blind as the galdori, not even once. “I could introduce you as looking for work, if it would be helpful? I don’t know whether he knows anyone who works Uptown, but he might well.”