Fasai, Ravene


Fasai and Ravene chat over Ice.


It is afternoon of the seventh day of the seventh month of the second turn of the 12th pass.


Bazaar Sidestreet

OOC Date


Bazaar Sidestreet

No matter the time of day, the darkness here is almost absolute, adding a certain je ne sais quois that borders on the treacherous. Here and there, cobblestones have gone missing and leave holes that are perfect for snagging the feet of the unaware. The stench is also criminal, a mixture of urine, rotting meat, and other things best left unexamined in the heaps that pile up next to the back doors of certain of the bazaar establishments.

It's not a day for direct sunlight but the temperatures are slightly more tolerable in the back alleys and side streets, where the shadows are thick beneath awnings and the high edge of buildings. The smell isn't the best but one's nose does grow accustomed, yes? Outside of Rosie's, a few of the girls are at their ease—there's a pale brunette with a pipe on a little three-legged stool, a sallow blonde blinking sleepily at what she can see of the sky and then there is Fasia. Fasia has her shoulder braced against the building next to the door, weight cocked into one hip and hands drawing a filmy red scarf through her hands. The silence between the three women is of the companionable sort, but only the dark one seems interested in the world just beyond their doorstep- it's Fasia who turns her head when a cart pulled by a brawny deliverman rumbles and shudders by, and Fasia again who calls a greeting to a pair of women with buckets on their heads, heading off to the nearest cistern for water.

A long table has been set up outside of one shop, and a line has started to form in front of it, "Zisiene, will you hurry with those ices? They'll melt if you don't," the woman is slighly shorter than average, with her hair pulled back in a single braid to try and ease the heat on the back of her neck, "And don't forget the spoons," Ravene sighs as the first of her afternoon costumers grumbles, "It's hot, an y'er the only one what has these fancy ices," a fact the baker is well aware of. Zisiene, short for her age, finally comes out wheeling a cart in front of her that has three different tubs loaded on to it. Each one is placed on the table, then the cups, spoons, and scoops are set out. It's a good day for Ravene's flavored ice.

The assembling line has been noticed but Rosie's girls aren't showing any particular interest thus far. The brunette is trying to rekindle the coal in her pipe- the smell of the crumbled leaf material within soon drifting down the street again- and the blonde suddenly stricken with a yawn that sends her turning back into the brothel. No doubt in search of klah, that one. But Fasai is keeping a weather eye on the gathering. Daytime business is something of an amusing mystery to the young woman. After a moment of steady observation, she pushes from the wall and saunters on over. The red scarf is wound about her wrist and forearm as she goes, making for a splash of bright color as she weaves through the line towards its head. "Tem, Davif…'day, Anja, how's the ankle?" And here she is at the table itself, casting a curious eye over the wares on offer. "Got a taste, for a sister in arms?"

Ravene nods as she picks up a cup and scoops a pale yellow ice into the cup, "This is the best for a hot day," the lemony smell is refreshing even from a distance, the cup is passed over to Fasai, "Davif, you gonna sweep the garden?" the man blinks, and nods enthusiasticly, "Well wait for the sun to drop then," he points to the lightly pink colored ice, and that one is scooped into a cup and handed to the man along with a spoon, "Do you have any berry?" is asked by one of the many street urchins. More grumbling as the child is given a cup. In time everyone gets served, and either a service or price is agreed upon. One of those in line drops a wrapped bundle that makes a faint metal on metal sound, which earns the delivery person a large grin, "Thanks Thenan, these are a timely delivery. I'll put them up when it's cooler, ice or would you like some klah to take back to the forge?" the apprentice thinks for a moment, then answers, "Klah. I don't think Teransle knows how to make klah even though he boasts his is best.”
Zisiene sighs, takes the thermos and turns to fill it with klah. She gets all the best chores. Stupid brother and his stupid dragon.

Score, free ice! And without even a chore attached with it! Fasai's smile for Ravene is radiant. "Thank you, dear, that's so sweet of you. And not a grain of sand to be found," she remarks, scanning the tubs of pristine ice as she steps aside for the others to be served. "Such efficiency." She approves, she really does. And not just because she's lifting a taste of the citrusy taste to her mouth for sampling.

Free samples are Ravene's stock and trade. It's how word of her bakery has spread so rapidly. Few complain about her chores for food option as it often means the whole family is fed, "Glad you like it," she answers with a smile as she continues to serve the ice, and collect either Marks or chores as the line eventually thins, "Okay, back to cold storage with these Zisiene," the girl grumbles as she packs the tubs up again, "I'm Ravene, that's Zisiene, and somewhere there's an apprentice but he may be in the garden," Ravene's garden isn't large, but it does allow her to grow quite a bit of what she uses in her baking.

"Fasai," she provides as her own name. There's likely no mystery as to where she comes from, or what her profession- the only garden Rosie grows is the sort that giggles and flirts and falls into bed at the first hint of payment. Of course, that does call into question her initial request, referring to Ravene as a sister in arms… "I believe I've seen you in the Bazaar. You seem to collect apprentices," is her next remark, with a glance sent chasing after Zisiene. The spoon is popped back into her mouth, turned over so she can drag every hint of lemony ice from its bowl.

Ravene follows the glance, "My foster daughter," she answers and chuckles, "I'm a journeyman baker, or was before I moved from Ista," she doesn't mention if she's moved from the island of now or jumped forward, and in her mind it doesn't matter, "E'bert's coming to supper tonight isn't he Mama?" the girl asks as she comes back to begin wiping down the table before it's broken down by a pair of men that have been lounging in the shade, "No, he's got sweeps tonight," then before Fasai can ask, "E'bert's her brother, and also my fosterling," another shrug.

Fasai's lips quirk in a smile around the bowl of the spoon. "Goodness," she murmurs, "how do you find time for it all? I suppose Impressing them out probably helps here and there but…" That was probably a joke, given that the young woman closes one eye in a wink at Ravene after it's said. Then she uses the spoon to offer up a little wave. "I'll have to come back, the next time you've invested in ice. Thank you for the taste, lovelies." The endearment is meant for both foster mother and foster daughter and linked with a small, slow smile. Then the prostitute is strolling off back to where her compatriot of the pipe is watching through a wreath of smoke. Once near enough, gestures make it clear she is demanding a taste of the cold stuff too.

Ravene chuckles as she watches Fasai saunter off. The cups are inexpensive, so she's not worried about getting it back. All is packed up, and removed back into the shop then Ravene and Zisiene are heading back inside.

Add a New Comment