Who

Naneska, Yyliel, Aeshiya

What

Naneska has a literal run-in with a pair of new bazaarites. The resulting conversation doesn't go as well as it could have.

When
Where

Central Bazaar, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 18 May 2019 07:00

 

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"I find Herder trained bitches yappy. They need further trainin'. I know more than a few trader mutts that are superior, for all that they don't have th' fancy breedin'."



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.


Not even the bitter chill of the desert winter night will stop the truly dedicated (or desperate, it is Igen) wheelers and dealers from wheeling and dealing, and this evening is no exception. The night is still chill with the clarity only winter brings. But winter brings opportunity for those willing to think outside the box, so there are those doing a brisk trade in roasted nuts and mulled drinks, and those setting up stalls next to these cozy bastions, trying to entice that all important impulse mark. Commerce sleeps for no man (or woman!). But tonight, Naneska is not engaged with the familiar play of haggle in a professional capacity. Instead the golden-haired trader lass is just wandering with a bag of nuts and warm drink, taking in the atmosphere, and possibly taking note of those merchants who have managed to be successful despite the cold.

When compared to some of the slower cotholds within Igen's territory, even the slowest of the bazaar's nights could be considered bustling. And this is not an especially slow night. Not everyone who walks through the bazaar is currently partaking in commerce though(nor do all of them necessarily see Igen as a good opportunity). Two such individuals are currently walking by. The older, a red-haired young woman, hosts a stern look on her face and seems utterly disconnected from what the other is saying. The shorter blonde-haired girl continues her non-stop chattering regardless, although not without the faintest flicker of hesitancy in her eyes. Eyes that remain firmly fixed on the redhead - Aeshiya. As such, she does not notice the trader until it's too late and she has walked right into her. This is not just an uncomfortable-but-small nudge of the shoulder. Oh no, she manages to walk face-first into Naneska. Aeshiya notices the oncoming disaster a mili-second before it happens, quickly stepping back with a sharp exclamation of, "Yyliel!" Of course, the second the warning leaves her lips had to be the exact second impact is made. Such is life.

Welp, there goes Naneska's nuts! All over the sandy cobbles of the bazaar. Thankfully the trader has the presence of mind to lift her booze-bearing hand above the chaos, so it is only salty nut goodness that gets all over the path-crossed pair. "Hey now!" Fortunately for Yyliel, Naneska is one of the nicer denizens of the commercial heart of Igen, and after a moment or two rubbing her sternum, she speaks again. "Usually I expect a drink before such goings on…" There's a no harm done shrug, even as her attention returns to her unscathed drink #priorities! "More importantly, are ye okay?" The broad Bitran brogue in which she asks is almost at odds with the expression of concern she shoots at the younger, shorter blonde. "No harm done. Th' nuts were undercooked anyways." Naneska offers reassurance and professional opinion all in one to the other woman who tried to avert disaster. She's efficient like that.

Yyliel immediately jumps back, hands flailing. She regrets it a little, as she is immediately struck by a bolt of soreness in her lower right arm, but rapidly crosses and un-crosses her hands in an odd waving motion for about ten second solid anyway. The dull aches were she was doubtlessly jabbed by elbows, knees, shoulders, and/or various other hard bits are also ignored. All of her attention is on the peculiar woman with the fallen nuts. "Sorry!" she cries. "Sorry, sorry - really, I mean it! I am so sorry; I didn't mean to walk into you!" When her sister grumbles, 'run,' under her breath, she flinches slightly, but otherwise makes no indication that she heard her. "You - you don't have to worry about me," she hurries to tack on, offering a tiny smile to the trader. "I mean, I'm the one who ran into you. Should I… do you want some more nuts?"
Aeshiya shoots a brief glower her sister's way at the offer to buy more nuts. Oh? And who will be paying for those nuts? She knows that she couldn't have made any profit from her job in the cantina in the handful of hours since they moved to Igen. Rather than comment on it, however, she redirects her gaze toward Naneska. "She should watch where she's going," she says. "If you were someone important, or carrying something else… that shirt might stain as it is." Her lips pursed as she eyes the shapeless, oversized pink shirt her sister's wearing, crumbs of semi-oily nuts clinging to it. Hm. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a grave loss after all.

Naneska shrugs again, loosely. "'Tis jist cloth and…" Well. "…nuts. No harm done." She reiterates, a smile still lingering upon her puckish features. "It's not like I paid for 'em in th' first place. Th' vendor owed me a favor." There is a frown now, this time sent to a man operating one of the nut-roasters, who looks like he samples more than his fair share of his wares. "I suspect he still owes me." Because the nuts were not pleasant. There is a snort. "Don't fash. I'm jist a trader, not an important one at that. Ye're forgiven." Given that she wasn't terribly fussed at the first instance, her forgiveness carries as much weight as that parchment twist of nuts. "Ye new?" While Naneska is talking their literal run-in in her stride, their reactions prompt her to ask.

Aeshiya's eyes twitch and the corner of her mouth curves in the faintest expression of distaste. Faranth, what is that accent? Some people have less fortunate ones, yes, but it's like this woman isn't even trying. She only looks at the portly nut-salesman for a second before dismissing him. The discovery of what, exactly, brewed such an appalling dialect is much more interesting. She looks the 'trader' up and down in blatant appraisal. "'Trader' as in one who is invested in a specific non-crafting career, or 'trader' as in one of the vagrants?" If she means the former, it is a woefully vague and inaccurate term, but it is a solid leg up from the alternative.
Before her sister had said her bit, Yyliel's smile grew into something much more comfortable. She's opening her mouth to speak when Aeshiya asks her question. This time, it is Yyliel who calls the other out, letting out a small squeak before a whispered, "'Shiya!" She doesn't know where that is going, but she knows her sister well enough to know that it isn't anywhere nice. In what may or may not be a crafty diversion tactic, she hurriedly replies to Naneska, "we are! Just moved today, actually! Aeshiya's a herder, so she's here to do… herder… things."

Naneska's brow rises as Aeshiya makes her feelings known, but the glimmer of something in her eyes shows that she isn't riled, just amused. "Oh, aye. One o' them vagrants. 'N loose t' boot. I'm thoroughly disreputable." That backwoods drawl of hers growing broad in the manner of one who is used to being discounted because of first impressions, even as she uses a very fancy-schmancy word. She does however flick a wink at the younger girl, before turning her assessing gaze towards the older one. "Herder yeah? What beasts d'ye specialize in?" She was free enough with her answers, so clearly she's expecting the same from the other woman. "I'm Naneska, Independent trader. Formerly o' t' Reika out o' Bitra." And that is where the abominable accent originates.

Oh, the use of 'fancy' words will do absolutely nothing to earn Aeshiya's favor. She may have gotten some points for self-awareness if she didn't get the feeling that her self-deprecation was meant entirely sarcastically, but alas. Her eyes simply become a little more icy. The question regarding her work does make her falter a little, but she hesitates just before it looks like she's going to speak. Why would this grubby little Bitran want to know the specifics of what she does? Her eyes narrow slightly as a wary shadow seems to fall across her face. "Canines," she says, curt and blunt. Her voice takes on a smoother tone as she continues, "a Bitran, hm? That would explain some of it."
Yyliel has to fight down a giggle at the wink. Perhaps she should be frowning and judging and generally disapproving of her boldness, yet something about it is refreshing. It isn't often that she encounters a woman who's loud (is that the word? 'Loud'? It's not like Naneska's screaming or anything, but her personality, Aeshiya's - they feel loud.) like that without being very clearly hurt. Or hurting someone else. She looks back at her sister, the joy fading from her face. "There's nothing wrong with being from Bitra," she quickly tells Naneska, apologies written across her face once more. "I mean, I've never been there, but it can't just be all of the bad things people say about it, and you seem nice, so-"
Aeshiya, of course, was not done speaking, so when Yyliel jumps in with her rambling, sends her piercing blue glower her way instead. When she doesn't seem to notice, she decides to keep talking anyway. Yyliel falls silent before she has said more than a few words, her lighter, softer voice unable to work around Aeshiya's willful confidence. "Whether you're with the Reika or the Mooka or the Lukar or independent doesn't matter. A Bitran is a Bitran is a Bitran, and a Bitran vagrant…" she smiles at her condescendingly. "I would thank you to stay away from my sister. She doesn't need her image damaged by people of disrepute."

It takes a certain type of personality to just roll with it the way Naneska is doing. Even as the older sister rains down disapproval the glimmer in her eyes grows. "Oh aye, Bitran's ain't nothin' but trouble. I've already picked yer pockets, 'n fenced yer valuables." But when the disapproval turns to her former caravan she does pause in her teasing. "Th' Reika are respectable, honest folk. Provided plenty t' the weyr. Including a Weyrleader. Best ye remember that." So pride is for family, and not for herself. And there is a brief expression of disappointment. "Runners are where t' marks are." Because as a stong, independent trader she has a massive soft spot for her prefered mode of transportation. "Ye'd like my gran." She grins at Yyliel at the last, sensing this is perhaps a kindred spirit. "She taught me t' cook 'n helped me make me way here when I weren't much older than you."

At the talk of runners versus canines, interest flashes in Aeshiya's eyes, as if she might argue the subject, but it is gone in a flash. Which creature was superior (canines, obviously) isn't the priority at the moment. "One can be respectable among knaves and a bane among good men," she sharply points out. "The skewed loyalties of a former Weyrleader doesn't matter as long as the same cannot be said of the current one." After all, if Naneska in bringing up this Weyrleader in the context of her caravan providing for the Weyr, he must have allowed his origins to create a conflict of interests. The current Weyrleader… she doesn't know much about him other than that he rides brown, but her tone makes it clear that she hopes he doesn't claim the same lineage as this scrubby little tunnelsnake. "Anyway!" She clasps her hands together and tries to force her grin back into place, as if there's a chance Naneska doesn't realize she's be judged yet or cares about her keeping up polite pretenses. "I'm afraid your grandmother isn't relevant here. Yyliel won't need to 'make her way' - we're going to find her a good husband and everything will work out from there." She begins to take a step and glances over at Yyliel, an unspoken signal for her to follow. Time to go!
Yyliel completely misses (or 'misses'?) the signal. The mounting conflict between the other two has made her start shuffling in place a bit. Even so, the interest in her eyes continues to bloom. With only a brief glance at Aeshiya, she proceeds to ask Naneska, "what's she like? And what did she teach you? Like… was it all runners, or…? How do you live? Di-" her words falter as Aeshiya gives an irritated huff. Yyliel's shoulders stiffen and shame seeps across her face. A glance at her older sister makes her wilt somewhat, although she still doesn't close the six or so inches between them and begin following her.

Naneska is the one to make a faintly offended expression now, but instead of directing her comments to Aeshiya, she turns her attention to the conflicted Yyliel. "Do ye want t' get married? Blink once for no, and twice for ain't no shaffin' way. I've space in me wagon if ye need, me gran would clip me ears if I didn't at least offer sanctuary." There are NO other options as far as the trader lass is concerned. "Shame." Her attention turns back to Aeshiya, now it's her turn! "I find Herder trained bitches yappy. They need further trainin'. I know more than a few trader mutts that are superior, for all that they don't have th' fancy breedin'." Just because she prefers runners, doesn't mean she doesn't know a thing or two about dogs. Her smile is sweet and guileless, she's talking about canines!

Yyliel stiffens like a wher caught in rukbat's light. She blinks, one, two, three times, probably out of surprise rather than any attempted communication. Her mouth opens and closes a few times. Is… is the trader serious about that? Is she messing with her? Is she supposed to just know the answer to something like that? How is she supposed to respond? Some say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but a look into Yyliel's will show that the lights are on, but nobody's home. The gears turned too hard and then fell apart. All trains are broken down and the station has been set on fire. A window of opportunity is before her-
- and it is slammed forward before she can pull herself together enough to answer for herself. "It's her duty," Aeshiya growls. "Don't even bother with your metaphors; her life is none of your business and you have no right to interfere." She steps forward and in front of Yyliel, glaring down at Naneska with eyes full of accusation and disgust. "Or is luring naive girls away your duty? Maybe that's how your people get new recruits when the bloodline gets too inbred to continue."

Aeshiya can glare at the trader all she likes, the gentle play of mischief and humor hasn't really changed, and it is clear she is not intimidated or impressed. "Why are ye so upset?" It is a genuine question, ignore Naneska's previous comment about bitches. "'N why, are ye so keen to marry off your poor sister?" Is there method in this madness? Or just a diversion more interesting that the familiar play of commerce? "I've known more than a few crafters in my time, no rules against yeself gittin' married if that is your desire, once ye've made journeyman." There is a look of sympathy for the innocent before them. "A girl is only naive if ye make her so. Give her some tools, n some knowledge, n she might surprise ye." But what would this hoyden know?

If Naneska is air, light and dancing and moving around the obstacle in her path, then Aeshiya is earth, unwavering and facing her challenges head-on. Or maybe fire, burning bright and unstoppable until she inevitably burns herself out. Something in her expression darkens as Naneska voices her questions. There's insult, the anger of a creature whose had a sore spot poked, maybe even the accompanying hurt, although it's all swept under a rug of condescension quickly enough. "You really are out of touch with proper values." This time, Aeshiya's the one who isn't asking a question. If Naneska was truly aware of traditional values, she should know better than to ask. (And if she did…) "If you knew my sister, you'd know that even if we were like… you, you'd know how silly saying that makes you sound. It's for the best that you leave her be."
For her part, Yyliel remains silent. She takes an uncomfortable step back, staring at the ground until Naneska speaks up in her defense, before looking back down what her sister says her part. Of course. Of course. Unseen by the other, her jaw clenches and she begins to glare at the poor, innocent ground.

"Proper values don't pay th' rent." Or the repayment on a wagon. Naneska is unrepentant in the face of scorn. It's almost as if this is a semi-regular occurance. "Proper sounds deadly dull." She admits with a shrug, she is unapologetically her own woman, with a mind she is capable of making up on her own. "Ye worry t' much about proper, it'll suck th' joy outta life." And that is what motivates the trader, a life full of magic and wonder and light. "Speakin' of shame." That is what Aeshiya is trying to do right? Shame Naneska, a rather gracious random she encountered in the street. "Yer poor sister looks as if she wants th' ground t' swallow her. Ye kin think less o' me fer what I am. I'll think less o' ye fer how ye treat her. There is a contrite smile for the teenager. "'N I'm sorry fer my part. If ye kin escape, I'll teach ye t' make taffy."

No, proper values don't pay the rent. Perhaps this is connected to the other observations Naneska's made about Aeshiya. As is, she isn't inclined to tell some impudent trader her life story. The redhead glances at her younger sister. Is Naneska trying to play the shame game now? If so, it's going to take a whole lot more than that to work. She turns her unwavering glare back to the trader, but now those blue depths, having slowly slid from icy to hot over the course of the conversation, have begun to spark. Something in about them says that Aeshiya isn't necessarily hell-bound to shame Naneska. Fear would work just as well. "You'd ruin her life," she says. "I'll only tell you once. Stay. Away from us." Then she turns on her heel and marches away, sharply calling for her sister to follow. Yyliel hesitates for a moment. Just a moment. Aeshiya looks over her shoulder, an inferno threatening to sputter to life in the middle of the desert, and with one last apologetic look at Naneska, Yyliel obeys.

"Ye're the ones who walked into me?" But there is a subtle wave given to the younger sister. Naneska puts enough innocent confusion into that final farewell before her attention returns to her cup. At least she still has her drink! And maybe later she'll hit up that vendor for more nuts! But for now? She's going to enjoy the rest of her winter evening, because no one died! And that's about as good as it gets in Igen right?

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