Talking to Strangers (Ketzi)

Braving the cold and wind for some food.

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Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld. The small town of Plugit is nearby.

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Gaelin
Posts: 22
Joined: Fri Mar 22, 2019 1:15 pm
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Race: Galdor
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Mon Mar 25, 2019 10:00 pm

Trader's Market • Old Rose Harbor
on the 6th of Intas, 2719 • Afternoon, 19 o'clock
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Another gale of wind lashed at the black winter cloak that Gaelin had wrapped around himself. The bitter cold lingering from Orphus only made worse by the wind cutting deep into his bones. Wearing gloves had done very little for the comfort of his hands, causing him to pinch the hem of his cloak and tuck his hands under his armpits. Marching through the street and the unsettled snow, Gaelin made his way towards the Trader’s Market. He was carrying his broadsword on his belt and a pack on his back.

It was unlikely that he would find trouble. Sharp winds stung at the eyes every time he raised his head to look further than a few feet in front of him. “Clocking cold,” he grumbled to himself. The initial plan was to stay at home and work on a few spells. However, Alara had failed to obtain all the groceries, and nearly broke into tears when he demanded that she go out to retrieve the rest of them. The servant was young, and had not been provided with suitable attire to brave the weather. All of that in thanks to his asinine brother, most likely. She was the only servant at his disposal, and Gaelin didn’t want to risk her catching a sickness. So, here he was, freezing for the sake of his own food. Sometimes humans seemed so useless.

Many of the vendors of the market had packed up their goods, rather than expose themselves to bitter treatment from the weather. Dozens of kints had her flaps closed and tied to keep the wind out. Gaelin wandered around for a bit before finding a place inside a structure. “Thank Alioe,” he muttered as he opened the door and slipped inside. A gust caught the door, making it require his full weight to pull closed again. Standing at his full height, he lowered his hood with a sniff. Several others were present in the shop to obtain some foodstuffs.

Gaelin undid the gray coat of his winter outfit, exposing the black high collar with the single circular pin of his Seventen rank on it. Then he started roaming around the store, idly gazing at jars with sliced preserved fruits and meats alike. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for. This was servant’s work after all. His slight annoyance apparent on his face as he slowly perused the goods on the shelves. In this weather hot stew was one of his favorite meals. But he wasn’t entirely sure what the ingredients were to making one. In his frustration, he had left without getting a list from Alara. Gods damn it.

With a quick glance around, he began speaking to the nearest person to him. “Excuse me, I’m planning on having stew for dinner. However, I’m not sure how to make one. Do you know what ingredients I would need?”


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Ketziana Dimere
Posts: 27
Joined: Mon Jan 07, 2019 1:47 pm
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Race: Passive
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Sat Mar 30, 2019 11:40 am

Trader's Market Old Rose Harbor
on the 6th of Intas, 2719 Afternoon
Ketziana had settled into Old Rose Harbor much better than she would have ever expected. She still felt the pressure of having to pay off Gauthier’s massive debt and she still dealt with days where the depression threatened to swallow her but, strangely, she most often felt free. The fact that her family wasn't there, judging her to be incompetent simply because she was a passive felt like a weight off her shoulders. She woke up every morning, feeling like she could breathe for the first time since she had tested as a passive.

It never stopped feeling amazing.

Ketzi had started tentatively reaching out to people, helping her neighbors and occasionally even going to a bar, though she never drank anything outside of seltzer. She had learned after Clock’s Eve that having a hangover would be a great way to start the day behind. She had only had a couple glasses of beer, but she had lost almost a whole day’s worth of work and, after that, had sworn off all alcohol.

Since she didn't mind the bitter cold as much as some of her neighbors -- in fact, it often felt like home -- she had started running errands for them on Market Day if they needed them. After wrapping herself in the light coat, mittens, and scarf that many people had told her was not nearly enough for the “bitterly cold” winter, she headed over to Mrs. Landingham’s apartment, the neighbor that most needed her help.

Mrs. Landingham was one of Ketzi’s first customers, an elderly human who had needed to buy her daughter a simple dinner set for her wedding. Ketzi was still adjusting to being around so many humans, but Mrs. Landingham was as sweet as punch and she found that she slid into a friendship with the woman, despite the woman’s race. She just couldn’t help it.

With the winter being as cold as it was, Mrs. Landingham had difficulty going out. At her age, the icy weather was dangerous and, when Mrs. Landingham had come in for a teapot after her dog knocked hers off the table, Ketzi had eagerly offered to do her shopping for her so she could stay safe. Mrs. Landingham tried to convince Ketzi it wasn’t necessary, but Ketzi knew that the woman’s daughter had moved to Vienda after the wedding and Mrs. Landingham didn’t have anyone to check on her.

So, on every sixth, Ketzi made her way to the old woman’s apartment, checking in on her and getting the shopping list for what the woman would need.

She hummed to herself as she entered Mrs. Landingham’s apartment building, waving to the people she knew. When she finally stood outside Mrs. Landingham’s door, she knocked, announcing herself and then bracing herself as she opened the door.

A loud deep-throated barking started and a massive dog ran towards Ketzi, placing its front paws on her shoulders and bathing her face with its tongue. Mrs. Landingham said that the dog was a Hoxian mastiff, but Ketzi would have sworn it was half horse, just because of the dog’s size. She came up to Ketzi’s chest when standing on all fours and, when she decided to jump up, her front legs easily went over Ketzi’s shoulders. Every damn time Ketzi came over, she had to struggle to keep from being bowled over. She had no idea how Mrs. Landingham, who was a good 6” shorter than Ketzi’s 5’11”, managed to stay upright when the dog decided to jump on her.

“Dammit, Bitsy, how many times do I have to tell you to not jump up on people?” Mrs. Landingham laughed as she got up from her table. “Afternoon, Ketziana,” she said as Ketzi dug a ham bone that had been stewed nearly to death out of her pocket and threw it into the living room. Bitsy barked once and then bounded off after it, happy to have the treat. Mrs. Landingham was still spry for her age and, by the time Ketzi had dealt with the dog, she was close enough to the door that she could offer a damp washcloth to Ketzi so that she could wipe the dog’s saliva off her face.

Ketzi took the washcloth gratefully and smiled after she was done wiping her face. “I’m telling you, Ettie, that dog’s going to get you evicted when it tries to drown the wrong person,” she laughed.

“Psh. You know as well as I do that everyone here loves that dog. We ain’t been robbed since I moved in because Bitsy scares everyone off. Don’t you, girl?” the old woman said as she stopped to dig her knobby fingers into Bitsy’s mass of fur, scratching her for a moment before heading to the kitchen to check her bread.

Ketzi shook her head and laughed. “If you say so. Have you managed to get your list ready?” she asked as she sat at the table.

“I have! I just need to add one more thing and I’ll be ready. Dinner should be done by the time you’ve done all the shopping,” Mrs. Landingham said as she hobbled back to the table. The woman insisted that Ketzi eat with her at the end of Market Day and, to be honest, Ketzi didn’t mind. It was an improvement on eating dinner alone in her apartment while Beatrix tried to steal from her plate.

Mrs. Landingham wrote one last thing on the shopping list and handed it to Ketzi, along with a coin purse to pay for the food. “You tell Freddie I want one of the fresh leg bones this time. Bitsy’s fur is getting a bit dry and she needs the marrow,” she said as she patted Ketzi’s hand.

Ketzi gave the massive dog a side-eye, fairly certain that the dog could stand to lose some fur. Whenever Ketzi petted her, her hand went wrist-deep into the fur. But she knew Mrs. Landingham worried about the dog, so she didn’t make a comment as she looked over the list.

She frowned as she noticed that the only protein was beans, making a note to “forget” a wheel of cheese in the woman’s groceries when she came back. Mrs. Landingham had been forced to retire from her job at a watch maker’s when her eyes got too bad to manage the fine work. While she quickly started advertising that she’d take care of people’s children, she was slow to gather clients. Ketzi suspected that Bitsy scared off a lot of clients, but she’d be damned if she was going to suggest the elderly woman get rid of her dog. Her neighbors had all quickly started letting her take care of their kids, but she made just enough to pay rent.

There were just too many people in Mrs. Landingham’s position.

After a few more minutes of discussion, Ketzi picked up Mrs. Landingham’s shopping basket and then headed out. She made her way to Trader’s Market, stepping into a few smaller shops on her way to pick up the more expensive goods her profits allowed her. She picked up a couple savory hand pies at a bakery, along with a “doggy cupcake” to throw for Bitsy when she went back to Mrs. Landingham’s apartment. Hopefully she would be fast enough throwing the cupcake that she could avoid being drowned in drool.

Once Ketzi made her way to the market, she quickly made her way around it. She was a creature of habit, so she knew where everything she and Mrs. Landingham needed was found. She was browsing the fruit preserves, looking for the blackberry preserves that reminded her of summers at home when someone spoke to her.

She blinked, then turned to the man, taking him in quickly. His looks and field quickly labeled him as a galdor, and she arched a single pale eyebrow as she saw his snap. She had been in Old Rose long enough to know that most of the Seventen in town were corrupt, but this one’s snap was still bright and shiny, so Ketzi assumed he was new in town. He was almost as tall as she was, which was unusual for an Anaxi galdor.

“Let me guess. Your passive’s sick,” she chuckled, her voice friendly as she turned back to the shelf and finally found the preserves she wanted. She dropped it into her basket where a much smaller jar of apple butter for Mrs. Landingham already rested. She then turned back to the galdor, taking a couple steps and reaching past him to grab a jar of pickles.

“Well, first off, what type of meat do you like? We can head to Freddie’s butchery and, on the way, we can stop at Magdalena’s produce. I suspect you probably don’t want to eat the half-rotted stuff that Landon sometimes sells,” Ketzi said, shaking her head. Mrs. Landingham always made a note for Ketzi to pick up the produce from Landon’s stall, but the passive refused to shop there on principle. She didn’t mind covering the few scraps’ difference between the prices if it meant that Mrs. Landingham wasn’t going to have to eat bread and water at the end of the week because all her vegetables had been reduced to maggot-covered slime.

“I can pick up the rest of what I need on the way if you don’t mind me ducking into stalls as we go along,” the tall, pale passive said as she switched the basket to her right hand, holding her dominant hand out to the galdor. “I’m Ketziana, but everyone calls me Ketzi. Nice to meet you.”
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Gaelin
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Joined: Fri Mar 22, 2019 1:15 pm
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Sun Apr 07, 2019 8:55 pm

Trader's Market • Old Rose Harbor
on the 6th of Intas, 2719
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The thin woman turned to him seeming a bit surprised by his request for assistance. He supposed that he would be too if a stranger had suddenly asked him for cooking advice while he was shopping. Hopefully, she was a more knowledgeable chef than he was, which wouldn’t take much at all. She was tall and thin, in an unhealthy-looking way, with long strands of white hair falling to her waist. Gaelin thought she might have been a human that had dyed her hair considering how tall she was. Upon a more detailed examination of her, the woman seemed to be a galdor, likely from Gior or another of the other kingdoms.

A single dry laugh escaped him at her comment. Like someone that had been to the market a hundred times, she was taking things from the shelf without much need to search for what she wanted. “Not a passive, no. My servant is young and growing still. She doesn’t have anything suitable for this cold weather.” Gaelin stepped back as the woman reached past him for the pickles. “So,” he sighed, “here I am instead.”

Her tone was a bit neutral, which didn’t really surprise him. What had surprised him was that she was willing to escort him to the places that likely had the best quality foods on hand. Freddie’s and Landon? No, Freddie’s and not Landon. He had missed the name of the person that sold the good produce. Habit caused him to hold his hands behind his back, even as the corners of his lips bent into a rare expression for him. “Thank you, I really would appreciate that,” he said towards her clear blue-green eyes. “I’ve only been in Old Rose for a few days now, and don’t have any sort of familiarity of the place yet.”

Sapphire eyes quickly roamed over the small market they were in. This place probably didn’t have anything that he was going to need then, or at least, not in good quality. The he brought his eyes back to the woman, Ketziana. When she offered her hand, he took it his own with a gentle grip. Rather than shaking it, he turned her hand so that her knuckles were up and bowed he head towards them. “Well, Ketzi, it seems very fortunate for me to have made your acquaintance. My name is Gaelin.” A moment after giving his name, he reached out to examine her Field. While the few people he’d met in on the harbor lacked etiquette, Gaelin sought to… oh.

Gaelin’s brow furrowed from his perplexity. There was no Field surrounding Ketzi, nor any trace of the mona that he could sense. Releasing her hand, he pulled his back behind his back. Was she in fact human? No, not with those pale features and slender build. She must have had an accident then. Gaelin pulled his own Field back in, feeling a little abashed by his discovery. On the very, very rare chance, she could’ve been a passive. But they were set to live and work in Brunnhold, while other kingdoms had a less generous treatment of them. Which meant that she couldn’t be one.

Clearing his throat, he searched for words to fill the silence. “Uh… the meats that I enjoy are pork and beef. Poultry is fine, but is a bit bland if I were being honest.” Meats and produce. Was there anything else that he was going to need to provide at least a single meal or two? His frustration with Alara grew for an instant before he quelled his temper. There seemed very little point in growing mad at a servant that wasn’t even present. Gaelin looked at Ketzi’s basket and realized that he had not acquired anything yet. Though it sounded like what he needed was best purchased somewhere else. “No, I do not mind a few detours. It is very generous of you to show me where to obtain the best foods. Freddie’s and… what was the name of that other place?”
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Ketziana Dimere
Posts: 27
Joined: Mon Jan 07, 2019 1:47 pm
Topics: 7
Race: Passive
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Writer: Rachel/jadeowl
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Thu Apr 11, 2019 4:48 pm

Trader’s Market Old Rose Harbor
on the 6th of Intas Afternoon
Ketziana’s lip curled ever so slightly downwards at Gaelin’s comment about his servant. “Ah, yes. I forgot. You Anaxi enslave your passives,” she muttered, though it was so quiet that Gaelin might not have heard it.

A passive being a servant was common enough in Gior. A lot of Gioran galdori infantilized the passives of their families, treating them as if they would be forever children because they would never know the touch of the mona. Imaan knew her family had done so. She loved her family. She really did. But she certainly didn’t miss how they had treated her.

But the idea of passives being gated and forced into servitude, their skills and talents possibly discarded as if they never existed, made her blood boil. She held anger towards both the galdori that sent their family away and the passives who let it happen. It didn’t cross her mind that it was just common culture in the nation of Anaxas and, quite frankly, most Anaxi passives couldn’t even wrap their minds around the concept of being free. When something has been done for generations, it becomes part of your blood and easy to accept.

Ketzi gave a little half-shrug at Gaelin’s gratitude. “Mm. No need to thank me. I’m not taking you anywhere I’m not going anyways. I’m shopping for myself and one of my neighbors,” she explained. “She’s older and can’t get out in this weather and, since I’m coming here anyways, I figured I’d help her out.”

Ketzi arched a pale eyebrow at Gaelin’s hand kiss and chuckled. “And such a gentleman,” she said, though she suddenly turned even paler as she felt the man’s field expand.

Oh please, don’t let him figure out what I am, she thought anxiously as she chewed her bottom lip for a moment. She didn’t know whether foreign passives were sent to Brunnhold if they were found out, but she didn’t want to personally find out if that was the case. She liked her freedom, such as it was, and she knew part of her would die if she was turned into a slave at Brunnhold. The man looked confused for a moment, but his demeanor didn’t suddenly become unfriendly, so she relaxed a bit.
Either he didn’t realize she was a passive or he didn’t care.

When she felt the man’s field retract, she quickly made her way to the cashier to pay for her goods. Once money had changed hands, she seized on the chance to discuss something that wasn’t related to her being a passive. “Mm. I’m particular to mutton or lamb myself,” she shrugged. “It’s what I grew up with. But I usually buy chicken, since it’s cheapest. Potters don’t make a ton of money,” she laughed. Especially when they have to pay back taxes to Hawke, she thought.

“The first food place we’ll stop is Magdalena’s. It’s a good mid-level produce stall. I have to stop in to talk to Angelique, though. I need more rags,” the statuesque blonde said as she led the way through the market. “I’m not partial to ripping apart my own towels and clothing so I can wipe the clay off my hands,” she laughed.

They reached Angelique’s shop, which was a secondhand clothing shop. “Be right back,” Ketzi said as she slipped into the shop. Gaelin could either choose to follow after her or look around the rest of the market.
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Gaelin
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Sat Apr 13, 2019 10:37 pm

Old Rose Harbor
on the 6th of Intas, 2719
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Honestly, the entire thing wasn’t ideal. Gaelin had been used to having multiple servants around before being sent to Brunnhold. Academia had taught him more than magic and other scholarly pursuits. He had learned to look after himself, because the passives at the university could only do so much when serving so many people. Along the way, Gaelin had bet several galdor that seemed happy to not have any servants. But he was of the Reliaria family, and it would not do to even appear to live a lifestyle that didn’t require a servant.

Ketzi’s utterance went unnoticed. Had he managed to hear her, he would’ve become quite uncomfortable. Passives were an oddity to him, one that generally made him uncomfortable. The idea that a galdor could be born incapable of forming a relationship with the mona, for good or ill. It was unsettling. Mostly because that was what made them superior to the other races. To be born a passive was to be born less than a wick. May as well have been born human; that way they’d at least have the physique for labor.

But Gaelin had heard of galdor losing their magical abilities, and even their Fields. He’d never met one, nor had he ever bothered to become acquainted with a passive either. In his mind, Ketzi had likely lost her ability to communicate with the mona. As curious as he was, if he had lost magic, he wouldn’t wish to discuss it with complete strangers at the markets. So, he left it alone. Even if it was a matter of mere convenience, Ketzi was helping him when she didn’t need to. Offending her was not a great way to repay that.

She did have a nice sounding laugh, as soft as it was. Guess introductions in the harbor were usually more straightforward. Well, it had at least provided an instant’s worth of entertainment to Ketzi. Gaelin did note how quickly she ventured away after he had tried to sense her Field. Allowing a little space, he slowly followed behind her. He supposed there wasn’t anything that he had to purchase from this specific market. Though his attention was brought back to the Gior when she commented on her preferences.

“You’re a potter? That sounds like it would be interesting.” Gaelin tried to imagine Ketzi wearing an apron with mud plastered all over her. It must have been the albinism that made it challenging to imagine her dirty. Still, that was a very creative profession to have. “What sort of items do you craft? Plates and glasses? Or are you more like a sculptor?”

Once she finished with her purchases, Gaelin followed Ketzi outside. A list was beginning to form in his mind of things he would look for at Magdalena’s. Onions, peppers, and rice among other things. Then he made the realization that he wasn’t sure how much of each he was going to need. How often did Alara use those sorts of things for their meals? He supposed after this trip, he was going to have to sit down and really have a conversation to better his understanding of what sort of things she needed. Until he changed his living arrangements, and acquired a butler or housekeeper, it was going to be his responsibility to ensure that Alara could actually do her job.

Outside of Angelique’s, Gaelin shrugged his shoulders. “Better to come in and out of the cold at least,” he said while following her in. While she had said everything was second hand, Gaelin was a little surprised at first glance. Many items were still of fair quality or condition. They were the most immediate to notice based on their position for display. While Ketzi likely knew exactly where to go for what she wanted, Gaelin was a bit more aimless. There were no clothes that caught his eye, while a few looked as though they would be well suited for his servant. What really captured his attention were a set of washcloths he found. They were dark with brightly colored embodiments, giving them a more attractive appearance than the blander designs surrounding them.

Gaelin took a few of them and paid the clerk his due before heading to the door. When Ketzi was done, he opened the door for her before pulling up his hood. On the street, he walked beside her. “Have you lived in the harbor very long? I’ve been here for less than a week and am stationed here for work. So far, I can’t say I’ve found much to really enjoy about the harbor. Humans and wicks seem very content at being disrespectful to me.”
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