[Closed] The Flower Garden

[Su'yina Liae]

🙐 The Waterfront / Old Rose Harbor

on the 32nd of loshis, 2720, during noon.

The scratch of quill against the paper, the faded scent of old texts, and dried ink. The gentle lull of steady work and the echoes of footsteps of the people just beyond the door behind her back. It was the noise of toil and one that was rather sedate at that. It was calming, in a way that made Su’yina’s head bob up and down, in a fight against sleep. The warmth from a stove crackling nearby, and the wooden char that seeped into the surroundings made for a comfortable blanket. Even with a cup of luke-warm tea in her hand, it was hard to stave off the comfort. The seat she sat on, was even far more luxurious and softer than the lump back home she called her bed. The oddly comforting potpourri of paperwork and fire continued to fill the office space Su’yina sat in.

The witch rubbed her eyes, trying to fight the vestige of sleep, and settled on staring unabashedly at the old Galdor before her to force her mind to wake. His pallid skin, ashen in the decline of his youth, reminded her of wilted flowers. The wrinkle of his skin, the crinkle of a dried-up bloom. His lips were cracked dry from being worked over and over and beyond this, she could smell the sharp scent of herbs and something almost metallic. The man was very sick it seemed. She watched as he wheezed. Not even pride could hide the grimace of pain as he rubbed his hands against, his chest. If the man scribbling furiously away at his paper between bouts of lung wrenching coughing noticed her observing him, he said nothing. His gaze was far to focus on the letter he was writing. The speed and haste, in which he worked only belied the urgency behind it. The reason why she was here, was being re-written.

Su’yina preferred it that way. A wallflower to the rich, unbothersome yet there. It was a peaceful life, to be not noticed; there was no derisive look to be had, no veiled disgust to try to ignore. She idly wondered how long her life would remain this way. Sedated and peaceful, even while things she would not like to mention out loud brewed beneath the surface. The galdor coughed again into a cloth. His hands unsteady from the bouts folded the sheaves with an audible crunch. “Take these to Claude at Beckket’s Law.” Jumping in her seat, Su’yina placed her cup onto the table with a clatter before skidding over to grab the letter. The neatly sealed envelope felt weighty in her hands. Just how much and what, had the man written? The curiosity she felt was only fleeting; she knew better than to ask when it was not her place to. A moment later the cold kiss of coin graced her palm. “If you come back within the day there will be,” he paused, face flushing a pale pink as another fit arrested his body, “A…bonus.”

The courier canted her head to the side, before nodding. The single utterance gave her enough of an idea of how important this letter is and even more so the reply.

“Uhn, be back by nighttime then.” The surety of her words reflected the confidence she had in her trade. If there was anything she could trust, it was her abilities. With a dismissive wave. A nearby slave took over as she was ushered out the door, down a corridor with more room than a small family would ever need, and past a discreet servant exit from the side of the home in which she had entered at dawn. Pulling her shawl above her head, Su’yina peered back up at the galdor’s opulence before turning head. She would never deign, to understand why they do what they do and why they live the way they live. There was an audible pop as she opened her umbrella, a rush of noise as the water dripping off the awning splashed against it.

The dwindling drizzle of late loshis rain and the swirls of fog, swallowed the witch’s figure as she slipped back out onto the road and into the throng of moving bodies.

It was not until she turned into a quieter street towards the off-road towards the office, did, she hear it. Footsteps that clumsily echoed her own. The melodic plinking of raindrops against her waxed cotton umbrella had not her only companion on this day. She stumbled as she missed a step. Now just who was this? A raised brow was earned from the woman smoking by a stack of crates. Su’yina scrambled over, a smile on her face. “Cuse me, do y’know where Oak Lane is? Think I took the wrong turn.” Making a show of looking up and down the street, the tsat was quick to spot her unwanted shadow. A shiver went down her spine. Did thinking about danger, summon it to her doors?

He stood out from the crowd, with his fineries and height alone. He was by no means ugly, clean as most galdors are, and by her guess, at least a few years older than her. It was obvious that he did not belong in this area of town. But what screamed ‘awkward’ more than that, was the way his eyes would dart around. His acting was as she would love to frankly point out, horrible. He was staring at the notice board that was up. It could have been passible, if the board’s notice had not been drenched by the season’s rain and its content washed away. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle her giggle. Oh, this was not so bad after all. Maybe, she could make some fun out of this. A puff of smoke caused her to sneeze. “Sorry uhm.” The woman shook her head and pointed to her right. “Down atta way.” There was a twinkle of understanding in the older woman’s eye as she waved away her own smoke. “But ye should know that, eh chick? What ya do now? Pocket his poor wallet?” the woman snickered. “He ain’t that bad lookin’ for em type.” With a wink, Su’yina backed away. “I have no idea what you mean Tilda!” With another wave, she sped down the street, a startled gasp told her just what she needed.

She had to lose her tail, but how?

Hazel eyes caught the sight of blooming weeds. Didn’t a friend say she can stop by whenever she wanted a while back?

With a smirk, the tsat balked left at the intersection, slowed her steps just enough for her dear stalker to follow, and headed towards a familiar place to meet a familiar face.

The Flower Garden was just the place to hide. After all, no other place was safer for her, than the brothel in which she delivered illicit and oftentimes explicit, letters too. She did provide them their entertainment after all.

[Yazad]

The Waterfront, Old Rose Harbor

32nd of Loshis, 2720; Noon

T oday was a good day.

Yazad was beginning to make peace with the fact Old Rose Harbor was a chaotic, humid place that did not come close to his original mental image of the city, but it was still a city with its own -if scarce- charms. He particularly liked the open market in Basin Court, where he had learned the hard way to not tout his pocketbook openly because some people are simply miscreants who have no morals. His earlier experience did not stop him from returning several times to make a few purchases from several stalls. A set of simple cheap earrings, a beaded anklet, and this day, a small glass bottle of jasmine oil. His repeated use of it every time he went out was causing his previous bottle to dwindle faster than he expected, and restocking from a vendor who claimed to be supplying goods directly from Hesse seemed like a good idea.

The Loshis weather was mercifully temperature ever since he went out from the hotel and made his way to Basin Court, but his walking took him further away this time, to a place beyond the market where he could see the endless expanse of stretching blue sea in the distance. It was a beautiful view to behold for someone whose eyesight was assaulted by the general unsightliness of The Stacks. Such scenery was worth sharing if the only person he had in his life was not off discussing entirely too difficult science matters with other, possibly equally obsessive galdori. And so Yazad lingered, his bottle of newly-purchased jasmine oil in hand. The smell of saline-laden air filled his nostrils until he could not tolerate it anymore, making the passive put his perfume to quick use.

While walking down the cobbled street, Yazad carefully applied a few droplets of the fragrance substance behind his ears, along the sides of his neck, and on the insides of his wrists. His two wrists were then rubbed gently against one another for a few seconds before he lifted one up to his nose. The vendor had told the truth. This was indeed a strong yet not overwhelming scent. Lost in a moment of indulgence, the man closed his eyes and breathed in the heady fragrance once again. Seemingly insignificant, mundane things like this were often the best parts of his days--tiny oasises of personal bliss away from the difficulties of life.

When Yazad’s pale green eyes opened again, he realized that he had taken an unintentional detour away from the main road, which was a mistake so commonly committed that the passive no longer thought of it as a mistake. In fact, he would have been far more surprised if he found his way around to the hotel without the assistance of kind passerbys.

"Ah, pardon--" The polite call was cut short. The woman he looked at was already making her way into a building up ahead, with the assured steps of someone who knew their way around very well. The glimpse he was able to catch of her face was enough to ring a bell of familiarity in his head, and once again, Yazad found himself musing at the strangeness of life and how he had the oddest of knacks of meeting women he knew in unexpected places. Not that he could say that he ‘knew’ the young woman when he had only met her once before, but interacting once still goes above not knowing someone at all.

Curiously, Yazad’s eyes traveled up to look at the lightly swinging brass sign topping a wooden door in dire need of a repaint. The sign itself is what caught his attention rather than the condition of the place’s entrance. The Flower Garden.

Elation began to bubble in the man’s chest at the unexpected treat of having stumbled upon a flower shop. A flower shop! Oh, the passive indeed adored these. A place like Old Rose Harbor must carry a very different selection than the small florists in Brunnhold did, or so he assumed. It was still slightly odd that the shop had no flowers out on display, though.

Now with the double intention of greeting the woman and looking at the shop’s flowers, Yazad gave his bangs a gentle brush with his fingers, straightened his already smooth cloak, and then reached to push the door open with perfumed slender fingers and growing anticipation for a pleasant sight and a possible second purchase for the day.

The Flower Garden

[Su'yina Liae]

🙐 The Waterfront / Old Rose Harbor

on the 32nd of loshis, 2720, during noon.

If the ladies at The Flower Garden was shocked by her sudden appearance, it did not show. The tsat merely spared a small wave before ducking away behind a pillar to catch her breath. The few curious looks were answered with a smile before she peeked at the door. As she had predicted the man had not followed. People of his station did not publicly come to these places after all. If what the handful of girls she had talk to here were anything to believe -and believe she did -some…services were best given in residence, away from eyes. Mentally patting herself on the back, Su’yina enjoyed her small moment of victory with a wave before taking a deep breath.

And almost regretting it in the next one.

The scent of perfume hit Su’yina first. The witch’s nose wrinkled as she scrunched it. In the air, the scent of faded roses, lilacs, vanilla, and a mixture of things she could not yet name, lingered. It was a bit much, but not as overwhelming as she knew it could be. The runner was used to the pungency of spices, the floral notes were less bothersome than they would have been if she had not gotten used to them. The tsat rubbed her nose to get rid of the subtle itch before ducking behind a window and peeking out onto the street. The galdor was there, ever the sore thumb as he looked up at the name upon the residence. The witch snickered at the growing flush on his face as the realization settled. A prim and proper man such as him would probably not want to be caught gallivanting straight into a brothel in broad daylight, no matter the reason. What he prided in with his reputation and decorum was what was keeping her safe. At least for now, the content of the letter’s importance to this man would see to just how patient he would be. For now, she had the time, and that time was going to be used for fun!

She nodded briefly to herself. That was a good plan. She would simply chat for a while and once it got a bit busier, she would leave through the back. If he happened to leave before then, well that would just be the best scenario.

Su’yina glanced back into the room, the girls were milling about, chatting with one another while a few pulled a man up to the second floor. The throng of bodies that moved about was slow, languid as the clients dwindled. Between rain and time, it was not peak hours at this brothel. Not that anyone particularly minded a break from debauchery and questionable pleasantries. Which was quite the perfect time for her. Sparing her stalker one last glance, the girl smoothed the crinkles of her skirt as she stood. The shawl she had wrapped around her head to keep off any stray rain was pulled back. Roughly carding her fingers through her hair to remove the irritating knots, the tsat pivoted only to teeter precariously on the tip of her toes and she attempted to stop herself. Lady luck was on her side as she finally tilted backward, enough to catch a glimpse of a somewhat familiar face as she regained her balance. “Oh! It’s you—" the pretty boy from the inn! “Hi!” He looked…a bit young to be here though. But he was a man, and like her father, like to say, ‘all men are evil’, then it made a bit more sense. “Are you here to have fun?”.

[Yazad]

The Waterfront, Old Rose Harbor

32nd of Loshis, 2720; Noon

I t was entirely expected for a flower shop to have a rather strong smell filling it, but definitely not that of an odd but distinct musky odor being masked with a number of floral perfumes. Individually, Yazad would have most likely found each perfume to be heady in some way or the other, but the blend of scents was not exactly what the sharp-nosed man would call a great combination. Stranger still, he had still to lay eyes on a single leaf or petal.

Confused, Yazad’s eyes roamed the interior of what was a slightly airless place. The decor was far too red to be elegant, and the single set of shelves carried a small number of assorted, hardly-matching knick-knacks--and still no pots or flowers. With growing puzzlement, the passive turned his gaze to a rough-looking man walking towards the door in hurried steps, hands shoved inside the pockets of his ragged coat. If it made any sense at all, Yazad would have said that the man looked rather in a hurry to leave the shop. Fine brows rose up slightly, but the passive said nothing--

--until he heard a voice addressing him, that is. "Ah, greetings, good madam." It took his face no time at all to dismiss the expression of confusion and settle back into the polite, placid smile it often wore. Courteously, Yazad turned to bow to the young woman he had met at the inn while in Vienda, once upon a rainy day not too long ago. The passive’s gloved hands held into his small bag while his back straightened. The lady before him was nearly his own height, and that made it easier for him to meet her honey-colored eyes. "Madam--...ah, forgive me, I seem to have misplaced your name." he added, apologetically.

Her question was a rather odd one. Was he here for fun? Disregarding the fact that his concept of ‘fun’ is producing a perfectly-baked batch of pastries, Yazad was not certain if people often had other enjoyable things to do at a flower shop aside from, well, buying flowers.

"I am here for the flowers, but I cannot seem to find them." The polite answer was coupled with a cordial yet still puzzled smile. "What about you, madam? Do you work here?".

The Flower Garden

[Su'yina Liae]

🙐 The Waterfront / Old Rose Harbor

on the 32nd of loshis, 2720, during noon.

If an owl had become human, that would be exactly what Su’yina would be as she stared wide-eyed at the man before her. “Uhm…” Madam? Something inside her mind skidded to a halt at being addressed so properly. It made her skin crawl, and her head to shake. Being addressed that way was odd and the witch was not quite sure if the feeling was pleasant or not. Was this how all those nobles felt when they were addressed this way? A feeling of unease, like wearing ill-fitting shoes, too tight upon one’s feet. It was a poor fit she had to admit. Plus…was she that old? Or maybe she was older than this rather short man. Maybe he was a boy instead? Wouldn't that make him to young for this kind of fun? Was that any of her business?

Any answer to those thoughts would only further confound her and further test the thin string of morality questionably went by. There was not much she could do with that though, her poor coins could only buy her so much, and being pretty, was not something she would squander it on; especially not when it was not required by work. And her age? Well, she could not change that either. “Ah it’s fine, I didn’t give it to ya.” There was no need to back then, they had merely been strangers passing through and inn and with her being as waterlogged as she had been back then, her mind had been much more focused on the warmth of a blazing fireplace than it was on the faces she never expected to see again. “It’s Su’yina, and yours?” She flicked off a straying droplet of rain as it beaded down her forehead. From the few glances she saw from behind the well-dressed boy, they were attracting a bit of attention in the quiet atmosphere. They stood out, two splashes of an oddity amongst a different kind of normalcy.

The witch canted her head to the other side, looking a smidgen confused. Her brows were furrowed further in the second half of his sentence. Where would she even start to answer that question? Was…it not obvious? Mentally rolling up her sleeves, Su’yina steeled herself for the soon to come enlightenment of this poor chap. A rough finger unconsciously tugged and twirled at brown-strands. “What do you mean, the flowers are right there?” Taking a step to the left, she waved her hand towards the girls tittering by the bar. “That’s Camelia, there’s Rose…and I think that’s Poppy?” Was the other a touch off in the head or perhaps…he had never been here before? The tsat clapped her hands together in half-understanding. Even if she were well…wrong, this would at least be entertaining (for her at least). “Oh! Perhaps it's your first time here!” That has got to be it! She waved her hand in front of her face. “I dun work here, but I know a few sweet ones if its…uh…” she glanced up and down his body, “yer first romp?” She might as well help this poor man, do her good deed of the day, while simultaneously escaping her stalker at the same time.

On that note! “Come, come! Let me introduce you to them!” If she had been any less aware of her less than clean state of being, the petite witch would have grabbed his hand and dragged him, instead, she settled on attempting to tug him by the edge of his cape. The further they were away from the door, the safer she would be.

[Yazad]

The Waterfront, Old Rose Harbor

32nd of Loshis, 2720; Noon

A h, that is correct--she never did give him her name, and he had no chance to ask. "Ah, indeed. I must apologize for that previous unsightliness." The passive bowed his head apologetically, shamefully. Even recalling his state of damp misery on the day of their first meeting was heavy on his heart. He must have looked utterly awful back then, with his wet hair and soaked clothes clinging to a shivering body. A terrible thing to have others witness, but what choice did he have back then? Shaking his head slightly, Yazad looked at the young woman, regaining his smile again.

"That is a lovely Hessean name. My name is Yazad, it is a pleasure to meet you--again." His pale green eyes twinkled in amusement and a hint of gaiety. It was not often that he came across people who hailed from the same background as himself. A small thing; mundane and mostly meaningless--but it still felt a little delightful.

There was no immediate answer to Yazad’s confused question, and Su’yina was looking at him as though he had a third eye that he was not aware of. "Um..." Even more perplexed now, the puzzled eyes of the passive followed Su’yina’s hand to where the flowers are--and there was still nothing. Was this meant to be some sort of jape? All he could see was a number of young women looking back at him with both laughter and questions in their eyes. Camellia? Rose? Poppy? "Oh, goodness." It was all making sense now, Yazad realized with a peeking blush. He had mistaken a shop named after the owners for a shop selling actual flowers. An embarrassing mistake, and a disappointment since he will not be buying any blooms, as it seems.

"This is indeed my first time visiting this establishment." He confirmed with a nod. Yazad could not help but notice the animated way Su’yina spoke, gesturing with her hands excitedly. He had thought that the mystery of the shop’s name and the lack of actual flowers was solved, but the passive was back to being very confused when the brunette spoke again. Sweet ones? Was she going to give him flower recommendations? Come to think of it--what did this shop sell if not flowers? Also, why was she looking at him as if she was sizing him up for...something? The man could only stand there, maintaining his steadiness in the face of utter bewilderment.

"Hm? I have not done any romping for years, ever since I was a child." Fondness tinted his smile as he recalled his childhood days of frolicking in the manor’s garden, and all the playing he did by the lake that sat near the back of the Logarchon residence. A small boy in his seafoam green and cream set, wanting to brave the rose bushes for a gift to his mother and struggling to keep his hat on while doing so.

Before Yazad could ask Su’yina, who seemed quite familiar with this rather peculiar shop, about what this place offered, he found himself being tugged by the coat to where the group of jolly women was. Well, an introduction should answer his questions, Yazad assumed. Without much resistance, he went along with the other’s pull. "I am coming, I am coming." the man chuckled lightly, trying to match the other’s pace.

The Flower Garden

[Su'yina Liae]

🙐 The Waterfront / Old Rose Harbor

on the 32nd of loshis, 2720, during noon.

She waved off his worry, what was there to apologize for? If he was unsightly, she would have been as attractive as a half-drowned rat covered with grime. “Nah, ya were fine. Good looking still,” the compliment was as blunt as it came, “Just like today.” She continued to guide him over, only quickly glancing back occasionally to indicate that she was listening. “Hessean?” Su’yina echoed. Her head was tilted to the side as the flicking of curiosity slipped across her visage. “Like the place?” A place far off from what she knew and was that where her name came from? She filed the information away into a corner of her mind, where other secrets laid in rest. She would visit this tidbit later when there was no fun to be had. “Nice to meet ya though, Yazad.” His name rolled off her tongue easily enough. It was strange yet not to say, almost pretty if she had to say. The thoughts of how floral the name felt, was dashed by his next utterance after his quick admittance of innocence.

Su’yina’s mind came to a screeching halt. “As a…child?” was that alright? Was the boy alright? She never knew what it was like as a slave but…was it that bad or irresponsible? Did his master simply have some strange…kinks?

She twirled on to face him, coming to a screeching halt as her eyes sized him up once again. In the next moment, the tsat pinched her cheek in front of Yazad. Nope, this was not some strange dream she was having. Some out of body experience that was hard to explain. Her other hand came up, to give the other side an equally hard press, leaving her with twin red blots on her face. This was not a dream with how much her cheeks were smarting. Perhaps…perhaps she misunderstood? Or perhaps…

She took in his slightly confused countenance and rather innocent demeanor. Maybe it was him.

Romping meant playing around…right? And most innocently…was what he thought she meant, right?

“Oh!” She smacked her hands together. She had been dumb. With the newfound realization, the tsat considered her next move. Was she to educate this poor soul on the debauched ways of life or…did she play nice and tell him what she had meant?

Both options sounded quite tedious.

So, the witch changed her plan once again. She would not teach him, but she could find someone that can~ He was finely dressed which mean he could afford some fun and she would be helping a friend! Picking up her pace again, Su’yina waved over to a woman with a lilac ribbon in her hair. “Violet! I have a new one!” Her voice carried over the empty area, the woman turned, the dark waves of her hair danced in the wind as bright blue eyes sought the owner of the voice. Meeting the witch’s enthusiasm with a wave of her own, the woman came over. The slit of her dress parted to reveal milky thighs, the cinched corset accented the voluptuousness of her chest. A dusty rose hue painted her lips, which rose as its corners in a ghost of an indulgent smile. “Susu, how surprising of you to drop by today.”

Su’yina rocked on her heels, looking up at the taller woman with a cheeky smirk. “It’s ‘cause I missed ya.” The quip earned a short laugh and a rough rustle of her hair. “But I brought you a…friend today! It's his first time so be gentle, eh?” if one could read her face, it would be plain as day the mirth and mischief. “Oh! And if you dun mind, I’d like to borrow a closet.”

Violet’s brow rose.

“Trouble?”

“Yeppers.”

“What did you do---”

“That’s secret!”

Violet heaved a sigh. “Fine, you can use the closet if someone pays. Rules y’know.” Suyin’s nose scrunched. Damn these rules. "You just want my coins." she grumbled. She turned towards Yazad; thank the deities he was here today! “Ah! So Yazad, if you want to know what kind of place this is, just talk to Violet here, you’ll have a great time.” And she got a free hiding spot if everything worked out.

[Yazad]

The Waterfront, Old Rose Harbor

32nd of Loshis, 2720; Noon

G ood looking still? Well, yes, he knew that. Yazad would not allow himself to be seen in public unless he looked properly presentable, but the kind compliment was still taken with gratitude. "Why, thank you, good madam." He inclined his head politely, still letting the young woman pull him as she pleased.

"Ah, indeed. I do mean the kingdom of Hesse." Yazad answered, slightly uncertain. She did not seem to recognize the correlation between her name and ‘the place’ as she called it. Was she not from there? Perhaps her parents simply had some kind of fascination with Hessean culture and named their daughter that? It mattered not, either way. The name was lovely enough, and it seemed to suit her. She did look like a Su’yina, most likely because she is the only Su’yina he had ever known.

For some strange reason, the brunette halted her movement and gave him a look of concerned confusion. Stranger still, she was pinching her own cheeks while staring at him with eyes that looked like she had a lot to say. What was that about now? There was no reason for someone to be surprised about a child being playful. Before he could ask if there was something odd about his childhood romping, Su’yina clapped her hands, a look of realization crossing her expression. Well then--

"A new one?" The man echoed, mumbling in confusion. A new one for...what, exactly? The woman named Violet, whom Su’yina called out for in friendly familiarity, was approaching them eagerly, and for a moment, Yazad found himself choking in his own breath. "Goodness gracious Hurte above--" Yazad blurted incredulously, his face heating up the instant pale green eyes fell on the amount of exposed flesh on that woman. Quickly, the passive tore his gaze away to force it elsewhere. Suddenly, the dull carpet in need of cleaning looked like the most interesting part of the room.

The rest of the conversation between the two girls was nearly lost to him. Shock and bafflement allowed his mind to process very little, and he could have sworn that he had gasped uncontrollably when he first laid eyes on the woman named Violet. What happened to this poor lady? Someone must have stolen her outer garments, or perhaps she found herself in some manner of a problem that forced some clothes off of her. The indecent display left his mind reeling, but his heart felt sympathy for whatever mishap Violet had gone through to find herself in this disgraceful state.

"I, er...yes, indeed...do you find yourself short in funds? I can pay for the both of us if that is acceptable..." In his bashful embarrassment about having laid eyes on the skin of a lady, Yazad almost whispered his words. It is true that he was curious about the nature of this establishment, but now there is this half-dressed woman, talk of closets, and something about Su’yina being in trouble.

"If you would...kindly...show us to the closet..." This has to be a shop of furniture, then. The sooner they get Su’yina the closet that she wanted, the sooner they can do something about this unfortunate underdressed woman.

The Flower Garden

[Su'yina Liae]

🙐 The Waterfront / Old Rose Harbor

on the 32nd of loshis, 2720, during noon.

The heel of her hand pressed against Su’yina’s lips as she tried to muffle the cackles that threatened to escape her. The witch was more than amused if the way her shoulders shook was any indication. The unholy twinkle in her eyes only seemed to glimmer even further with each passing second of Yazad looking uncomfortable standing there. If he were this amusing with just a peek of skin, she could only ponder just how much fun she was about to watch in just a few. This was not even the climax of this tale and he was already as red as embers. “Awh dun tell me you’re shy,” Su’yina teased, looping her arm around the flustered boy’s own. For a man, he was rather short, and that was coming from someone who would most likely never stand much taller than she was now; the humble size of a decent rose bush, as she liked to say. Like the ones that seem to decorate the hedges of the galdor homes, not too tall, not too short, but nothing like the vines that crawled up to kiss the sky.

“Yer nice~” she cooed. So, so very kind of him to help her out. As her fingertips brushed the softness of his fineries, Su’yina was hit was an odd realization. For a servant of some kind, he was quite well dressed, neat, clean, smelled like flowers…an odd combination if any of her observations in the few households she had catered to was evidence of. It spoke of importance, of care, she would have thought he was a cherished lover if it were not for the sheer innocence that caused him to fall right into her trap. There was no other explanation short of stupidity that would make someone offer up their hard-earned coin to a stranger and as rude as she could be, Su’ was not about to call her benefactor stupid.

The witch eventually shook her head, as Violet looked between a mix of exasperated and amused. Those who never dabbled in the carnal throes of pleasure were always fun to teach but there was something a little bit worrisome about just how naïve he was. From a practiced eye, it was easy to pick out those that were simply inexperienced but to the prostitute, the boy was much more than just that. He seemed unknowledgeable and soft; akin to those sheep that she saw some years ago when she was still bright-eyed and kind. “Come along then, the closet awaits Su’yina and you dear,” she murmured, a painted nail the color of roses tapped beneath Yazad’s chin. “get the bed for the price of...” Her brown eyes crescent moons as she smiled and dipped her head, her price whispered in his ear all for the sake of another reaction. That young girl in her memory was long gone, replaced with a woman that knew easy money and entertainment when she saw it. Like many other girls that grew up running away from shadows and those who were quick to be lost to the call of liquor.

But there was blessedly some who were lucky enough, to cling to the vestige of childhood by kind fate. Like a certain brown-haired girl who made kind with those, some would spit upon.

Leave it up to Su’yina to always bring amusement by, whether it be letters, her titillating tales, or the unfortunate souls she drew in. The girl attracted trouble everywhere she went. The sound of Violet’s heels echoed along the stairwell as she led them up to the second floor. Behind a closed door, the creak of floorboards could be heard mingled among the gasps of enthusiastic partners. It was the third door to the left that they entered. The sparsely furnished room held a modest table with two chairs, a lounge seat with discolored cushions, and a plush bed, clean, pressed and cared for more than the rest of the room.

The oak door closed with a creak, sealing the three of them inside.

Su’yina batted not an eyelash as Violet began to strip, the lacing of her corset loosening as she turned towards the only man in the room. “Closet or show?” she asked Su’yina.

“Show!” She plopped herself atop the table, eager to await the hilarity she knew was about to happen. Yazad’s earlier reaction had been quite the preview.

“I’ll be gentle, sweetheart.”
.

[Yazad]

The Waterfront, Old Rose Harbor

32nd of Loshis, 2720; Noon

T here was neither protest nor resistance to the young woman linking her arm with his. "I am rather confused, I must admit." Yazad mumbled back, his eyes chancing a glance to the side before quickly being redirected ahead. ‘Shy’ was not one of the traits he is known for, not at all, yet he felt oddly uncertain, and the passive was not one who often felt that either. It was a mix of newfound wariness against things that he did not at all understand and an unshakeable sensation that something was off.

Yet here these women were, looking as though they were amused about something that he could not see, and as relaxed as could be.

"It is merely my gentlemanly duty." Yazad answered, politely smiling at the brunette. The purchasing of closets was not something that a gentleman was often required to do, but he was sandwiched between his curiosity to know what this place exactly is and the guilt he felt for even thinking to turn his back on these strange ladies in their apparent time of need--Unthinkable; utterly shameful. Su’yina looked rather young, too. Perhaps a little close to his age, give or take. Violet, he could not estimate the age of as he could not bring himself to look at her for more than a few seconds. Hurte forbids that she thinks him a flagrant man of no morality or manners.

Reservation in physical touches was something that Yazad practiced merely out of social propriety, rather than any personal dislike on his part for close contact. When he felt Violet’s finger below his chin, however, Yazad’s eyes blinked owlishly for reasons other than him feeling shocked. It almost sounded as if the woman was talking to him like she would a child, and that baffled him greatly. Hypocritic, a small voice in his mind crooned. He himself did view and treat most people as oversized children, but it felt oh-so-foreign when that is done to him. For a furniture shop, the clerk was being awfully friendly. "P--ardon?" What was this about a bed now? The hot breath of an unexpected whisper caused a literal shiver to run up his ramrod spine. Yazad was frozen for a moment, suffering the full effect of having someone speak so closely to his ear. Why had this affected him so? He thought himself more composed than this, but here he was, burning in the face and feeling as though his head was slightly spinning. The price Violet named was weirdly low for a well-made bed unless they were reselling used furniture here.

Thanks to Su’yina’s relative closeness, Yazad was able to make his way up the creaking stairs by letting her lead him. There were questionable, muffled voices and grunts escaping the rooms they had passed by, further amplifying the passive’s wariness. These people were either in quite a lot of pain or eating the most delectable food worthy of being vocal about.

A door was pushed open, and a rather underwhelmingly furnished room came to view. If this is where they keep their stock of closets then they are out of luck, for he could see none. The door closed behind them with a low slam, and Yazad froze.

So much flesh, much more than he had ever seen on anyone other than himself, was revealed to the flabbergasted man who was as still as a statue for a moment--eyes wide and mouth agape. "What in Hurte’s name are you doing?!" His body’s response could have been simply the product of his shock, or the unconscious reaction of his groomed mind, but the passive found himself taking off his coat to throw it on the nearly bare woman’s form. Su’yina was making herself comfortable on the table, looking the exact opposite of what he was right now. "What has gotten into you?! There is a man present!" Yazad’s squeak would have sounded stern if it was not made out of confused indignation.

The Flower Garden