evka, Amania


Amania finally has her chance to connect with the Zingari…and ends up slightly overwhelmed by what she finds.


It is afternoon of the thirteenth day of the sixth month of the eleventh turn of the 12th pass.


Central Bazaar & Caravan Grounds, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 16 Jul 2017 06:00


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"I hope you have no shame, Amania, because we certainly don't."


Central Bazaar

All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.

Reveka just loves the summer heat in Igen, where most would grumble and escape indoors, Reveka soaks it up, her skin tone lending her some protection from the harshest of Rukbat's rays. Dressed today in zingari green and silver, she makes a sight in Igen's bazaar. She wears a craftily made pair of loose pants that look like a skirt swirling around her ankles. Her top covers her breasts and shoulders and not much else. Both are a deep emerald green with silver hemming. Her hair hangs loose in chestnut and sienna waves, though, unlike most Zingari women, she sports a thin veil made of a silvery green translucent fabric fine as gossamer. A basket hangs from one crooked arm as Reveka makes her way through Igen's bazaar, the thrill of being home still thrumming vibrantly through her. Shopping is on her agenda for the day, as she has nothing to do until performances this evening. For now, she plans to enjoy the delights of the bazaar and its unique culture.

Amania is a girl on a mission today, something she would have started much earlier if not for the need to finish the job she'd agreed to take for a baker at the crack of dawn this morning. It's something she vows never to do again, if she can help it. Now she's on her way to the caravan grounds, crossbow tucked against her back beneath the satchel that carries all she has to her name. The Zingari have returned, a now is her chance to finally meet them and see about getting the job she hopes for. The heat is something she copes with well enough herself, though she shields herself from it in the drape of a sand-hued robe over loose, dark clothing. Indeed, the only splash of color that distinguished her is the dusty blue sash around her waist and the headscarf of the same color that drapes her hair and obscures the lower half of her face. It's a newer acquisition, her one indulgence since arriving at the Weyr. It's nothing, however, compared to the woman who comes into view as she rounds the bend from the side street. Green and silver, glorious hair, a scandalous amount of skin bared to the sun… She's never seen the like in the Underground, and it makes her certain this girl must be one of the Zingari. She could move on, knowing beyond the shadow of the doubt that the colorful traders have returned…or she could save herself some trouble, possibly. She just needs to exercise the social muscle that's still a bit sore from constant workouts in order to accomplish things sooner rather than later. With a little huff of a sigh, she steels herself and approaches the woman from the right. "Excuse me… I know it's a little blunt of me to ask, but would you happen to be one of the Zingari?"

Reveka turns mahogany colored orbs towards the woman who approaches and speaks to her. A small mischievous smile slides across the lips beneath the veil. "I am indeed. Reveka, of the Haeyleri Zingari clan, at your service Miss….?" Reveka gives a small bow of her head, a finger lifting to halt the chatter of the vendor she'd been stopped at. There's a spark of curiosity in her eyes, though, she does seem a bit aloof, given what the Zingari have just endured, it's understandable.

Amania can't help but blink as she processes being addressed in such a way - formally, as she perceives it. It results in an involuntary little tilt of her head before she softly clears her throat. "My name's Amania. Here by way of Kurkar Hold," she replies, trying not to drop her gaze at the mention of her birthplace. "I'm asking because I've been looking for the Zingari ever since I left there. I was hoping to offer my services to the caravan, but I'm not sure exactly who I ought to talk to." It might be obvious where she's headed once she sees the wagons on the caravan grounds, but from there, it would be a lot of asking around, she assumes.

Reveka nods. "Well met, Amania. I can take you to the caravan if you like, and you can set up a meeting? Willimina and Tallel are our leaders, it is them you would have to speak to." With all the guards and spies they now have, it's safe to assume the caravan has returned to it's usual business. "What services have you to offer the Zingari?" Reveka asks curiosly, after all, she'll have to have something more to tell her leaders.

Amania dips her head a bit at the "well met," then nods to the offer Reveka makes. "I'd appreciate that. Just so I don't look so much like I just wandered in from outside, if anything," she confesses with a hint of wryness. "But who will I be talking to to set up that meeting?" she asks, adjusting the strap that crosses from shoulder to ribs. "I was hoping you all might have room for a new guard. I'm a good shot. Really good, not meaning to boast. Beyond that…" Klah-dark eyes shutter a bit before her next, as though she's bored or pained by it. "I'm a fair hand at cooking, sewing, leatherwork. The chores most everyone thought were the only worthwhile things to fill my time."

Reveka nods as she listens. The caravan most likely will not turn away another guard, not these days. "It depends on if our leaders are about and able, really. Willimina likes to handle things on her own rather than delegating, but if neither she nor Tallel are available you'll have to talk to Javid, he is the… superior over our captain of the guard. " It seems like there may be more to this Javid's title than Reveka is giving him, but it's all anyone will get out of her on the subject. Turning on her sandled heels, she begins making her way back towards the caravan. "Follow me please." Quite helpful for a teenager, but Reveka has no reason to be otherwise, after all, she gets herself in enough trouble to have to make up for it.

"Oh." Ranks and superiors and rules - things Amania hasn't given much thought to where she's concerned, really. She's done her best to learn about them and respect them when she can since coming to Igen, but she'd forgotten she'd be directly subjecting herself to such things by wanting to be a guard. A legitimate guard, not just some mercenary caravan bouncer. But this is what she'd wanted - change. So that's what she'll deal with if she has to. "What's…higher than a guard captain, but not a guard captain?" she asks bemusedly as she picks up her feet to follow the colorfully-clad girl.

Reveka turns her head to look at Amania and grin, one eyelid dropping in a wink. "That's something you'll find out if you're let on with the caravan, until then, my lips are sealed." Giving a mischievous giggle, she leads them out of the bazaar and onto the caravan grounds.

Caravan Grounds

Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.

Amania rides the line of being annoyed at the evasiveness and intrigued. Smirking, she decides to just go with it. It won't do to get irritated with anyone when she's trying to secure a home and work for herself, anyway. Following Reveka into the caravan grounds proper, she's amazed at how much fuller it looks now - a livlier. "I'd heard you were a colorful lot," she says, peering ahead to the more elaborate wagons gracing the grounds now. "I didn't know people meant literally." Though she probably could've guessed from looking at Reveka alone.

Reveka laughs softly. "Aye, that we are. In more ways than one." Another wink is dropped as Reveka moves with the ease of familiarity amongst the wagons. It's a loud day on the grounds as Zingari hawk their wares and practice for the performance night. "I hope you have no shame, Amania, because we certainly don't." Reveka laughs again and heads for the center fire where the leader's wagon and yurt are parked.

As they move into the Zingari camp, cracks begin to show in Amania's tough-girl mask as she takes in the bustle of the merchants and practicing performers. Just like Reveka herself, the desert girl has never seen the like, and the exotic flair of it all is making her head spin a bit. "What?" She's a bit startled by the other girl's comment, her eyes going a bit round. "What's that supposed to mean? What is everyone doing dancing and throwing knives and…and…whatever that is?" Her gesture is aimed at someone putting on a rather elaborate dancing costume, though it becomes a bit vague because she's moving. "It's like the stories I've heard about Gathers, except it's only all of you."

Reveka chuckles. "Despite the veil on my face we are no conservatives here. I hope you like the sight of skin." Really, she is sort of heckling Amania, but not really, as her own decent amount of skin is showing. As to her other questions, Reveka shrugs. 'We're entertainers above all else, yes we sell some pretty trinkets and necessities, but our main goal to excite the mind and senses." Reveka's tone takes on a more mystical lilt as she waves at this and that.

Amania is grateful for the scarf concealing her from the cheeks down, because Reveka's initial words have her blushing and uncertain how to react. Does she mind? It's more that it's not something she's been around, really. It's just skin… She's seen men wearing less and been curious, seen women with less and wondered why they felt the need. Perhaps it's all something she'll learn more about, but for now, it makes her cheeks flare, especially given her own covered state. Hers isn't out of conservativism, just…practicality. "Entertainers," she echoes, doing her best to swivel her head toward wherever Reveka is waving. "So…you sell entertainment and wares? Is there something you're preparing for today?" Maybe they do it just for fun, too…

Reveka nods, pretending not to notice the girl's reaction to what she said, pride is kept in tact that way. "Aye, we do. And we are preparing for a performance night, we have them a few nights a seven, keeps spirits high and boredom low." And Zingari pockets full, but she doesn't say that out loud. It does not take long to reach the center fires where the storyweavers teach the younglings their stories. She points to a wagon with a yurt set up not far away. "Willimina and Tallel live in those, that's where we'll be going. " Reveka removes her vail and heads to said destination, waving at some as she moves along. The Zingari are at ease, laughing, smiling, it's a good day.

"Alright," Amania says after taking a good look at their destination. There's still much to pull her vision and she lets her eyes be led, though keeps on her path impressively without tripping or bumping into something. Or someone. They'll get there by and by…and then she'll be making her case before the Zingari leaders for a home and pay. No pressure.

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