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Post by Blubber-Bun on Oct 28, 2016 22:10:43 GMT -6
All-Business and No-Business During/After Events of Chapter 2; Osulas
It's high noon in the busy market of Osulas, when two unlikely equines happen upon each other
JellyBlubber's Jemin and KitoGryff's Selora
Jemin hadn't expected to have a successful day, and yet the reality of it still stung. Typical. Watching lazily as the steady crowd trickled by, he leaned back into the shade of his "booth"; which consisted of his vegetable-filled cart, and a crudely written sign hung above his head - proudly labeled "FReSH VeGATAbLs". Although the weather was mild in comparison to that of desert summers, the day was still warm, and in this shade he could only find brief relief from the heat of noon. Subsequently, he couldn't help but envy the comfort of his fellow booths, whom had actually decent set-ups. Competition had proved to be especially difficult that day, with vendors lined up all along the dusty streets and winding canyon walls, tempting shoppers over with shouts of sales. In fact, even Jemin had been forced to readjust prices in a futile attempt to keep up. But none of vendors were quite so bad as the neighboring booth; a flashy little jewelry shop, run by a chit-chatty young mare whom, on occasion, would pause the onslaught of customers so to send Jemin a pitying glance. Great gods, did he hate that mare. Eventually averting his attention away from the other vendors, the mule instead contemplated the idea of playing a few tunes later on - preferably near the market center. If enough equines were lured over to listen, he guessed that he could make at least a bit of spare change. And then he could perhaps stay another night at his cousin's place, if she would allow it. Musing these things over, he dislodged two carrots with a gentle pull of telekinesis, and began to drum them absentmindedly against the edge of his cart. The rhythm came instinctively, for it was a song his mother used to sing him. But as he had later found out, it was actually an old pirate song, which contained just about every profanity in the book (not that he'd been aware of the lyrics as a child, of course. Nowadays, he found it ironic that his mother had used it as one might use a lullaby). Jemin had only just started drumming the second verse when he noticed a pair of eyes from within the crowd of horses. Eyes that were looking in his direction. Taking a quick chomp off the end of one carrot-drumstick, he hastily slapped down and then propped up an "oN SALes" sign. |
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Post by PennthePony on Nov 2, 2016 20:48:42 GMT -6
Gods, this heat was dreadful. Selora could hardly stand the weight of it on her back, it made her feel choked and a bit ill. The dainty, tiny mare was accustomed to the warm humidity of Aquore, with a cool breeze here and there. At least there you could find shade and decent shops to browse through. But here in this market place of Osulas, Selora found herself rather pestered. By bugs, by irritating loud merchants, by the unbearable stench of sweat. And boy, did she hate sweat. Beads of it obscured her coat, and she dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief. Not even a fan seemed to help her evade the heat. How awful she must look at that moment, with puffy, frizzy curls and sweat wetting her well-groomed brow... Thank the Gods her <i>dearest</i> friend Nagisa could not see her now. The Council would have a downright fit! Not to even think of the humiliation her frizzy locks would cause her. Goodness, Selora could not even bear the thought.
Regaining her sense of awareness and realizing she had found herself wandering around a smaller section of the marketplace rather aimlessly, she looked around, noticing a large booth filled to the brim with jewelry - pretty things of all origins. She could even guess some had originated from the mysterious forests of the Isles of Aquore. Her mouth nearly watered at the thought of the mysterious pieces. When she scanned her eyes once again over the pieces, picking out some she may purchase, her eyes fell upon a tiny booth in shambles that was much overshadowed by the jewelry booth. Oddly enough, its grimy exterior intrigued her - as well as utterly disgusted her. How could anyone keep something so filthy, especially a vegetable cart? As a daughter of a Planter, she found this revolting. And it seemed no one else would help the stallion running the booth except her.
Selora locked eyes with the stallion, and raised her head, curiosity making her ears twitch. His deep brown eyes intrigued her, and his rough exterior which matched his booth made her extremely inquisitive. Truly, how could anyone present themselves in such a way? Did he feel not the least bit embarrassed?
Blinking her pale lilac eyes, her dark lashes fluttering nearly flirtatiously (though with no intent to do so), Selora made her way over to the jewelry booth, browsing more closely the necklaces and anklets, hair bands and circlets. She found herself glancing over to the stallion between pretties, and only became more curious. Now much closer to the stallion than before, she noticed how aged yet soft he looked, and oddly, despite his griminess, she felt a pang of attraction. It made her want to spit bile, but she truly found herself oddly attracted to this mule stallion. But she couldn't place her hoof on why.
Selora glanced once more at the stallion, locking eyes with him once again. His eyes seemed kind and humble, something she hadn't seen in anyone since her adoptive father. Oh, she just had to get him to say hello. Perhaps then she could shake this feeling she had in her belly.
Her attention snapped back to the jewelry however, when the chatty sing-song mare started to gossip about some other mares she knew to Selora, and she found herself nodding at her, barely listening to the garbage that were her words. When the mare started to snip about a fiery cream mare, a fellow Osulas resident, Selora's full attention snapped to the chatty hag.
"Hair like fire, I tell ya. And attitude to match. What a-"
Selora snarled loudly, catching the attention of everyone within ten yards of the booth. Her temper snapped, and she got very close to the gossipy mare, nearly touching noses with her. She growled through clenched teeth, in a very threatening manner, "Do not <i>dare</i> speak of my mother in such a way, you dirty girl!" She pressed her knee into the mare's chest, and heard a squeak from her, but nothing more. Selora did not truly believe violence would solve anything, but scaring the shit out of them definitely did the trick. The mare avoided eye contact with her and nodded, obviously terrified. She couldn't have been but 18, but Selora paid no mind to her age. That tongue of hers was what she hated, and she had had enough. "You talk about any one else in such a manner ever again, I swear to Alya that you will very much regret it." Pushing her away from her, Selora straightened herself, acting as if nothing at all had happened, maintaining her ever dignified air. Many of the shoppers seemed grateful towards her for shutting up the young mare, but Selora paid no mind at all. No one spoke about her mother in an ill manner, no matter if it was the Sultan himself or a good-for-nothing jewelry merchant.
Having forgotten all about what she had been doing, Selora looked back to the booth, eying the now silent jewelry merchant. "I expect a discount on all your jewelry, now. No one will pay those prices from a wretch like you." With a flick of her tail, Selora caught the eye of the mule stallion once more, and there that pang of curious attraction was again, hitting the bottom of her stomach like a wave of nausea. She tried to flick it away, but a break in her stoic disposition gave her away very plainly. Not that she minded. She absolutely </i>hated</i> playing love games.
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Post by Blubber-Bun on Nov 3, 2016 19:54:30 GMT -6
Ah, so he was right. Those lilac eyes were most certainly set upon his booth, and soon enough the owner of said eyes emerged from the crowd. She was tragically teeny in stature, and of a pale, sandy color - flitting about with fluttering lashes, while delicately dabbing her cheeks with a handkerchief. Jemin couldn't hold back a wry snort at this frilly sight. The poor little bird wouldn't last a second on the streets! But these were all minor details, since he couldn't care less about her inevitable fate. What did catch his interest was the way in which she carried herself; in right royal fashion, hinting at some level of importance. And according to his logic, importance usually equaled money.
They locked gazes for a moment. Jemin sent her a smile.
Annnnd then she turned towards the jewelry shop. Foiled again by the gossiping girl and her pretty little trinkets. Of course.
It took all his rare patience to not slam his face into the counter. So instead, he slumped back into the shade, wearily ruffling his mane out of habit. But eventually he'd have to put aside his disappointment over losing what seemed like a promising customer. There was always other chances, he reminded himself. Yet still, there was something about this particular mare...maybe it was the way she walked, or the way she admired the jewelry, or the way she kept stealing glances at him...actually, that last one was probably it. And now that he had noticed, he realized that she'd been doing it for a while. It seemed to amuse the mule stallion if anything.
But curious glances didn't make profit. Jemin knew that he needed to shut down shop at some point, and with his lack of success, now seemed as good a time as any. He ducked down beneath the counter, rummaging around for his saddlebags.
That was when the snarling began.
Startled, Jemin bolted upright, subsequently hitting his head against the counter's bottom with a muffled yell. He then reemerged, grimacing faintly as he leaned forward, peering at the situation in the neighboring jewelry booth. He defiantly wasn't the only spectator - everyone within earshot had turned towards the scene, expressions ranging from irritable, surprised, and disapproving. It seemed as though a bicker was taking place, by which the very same lilac-eyed mare had started. Perhaps he had underestimated her earlier, for gods could she fight! And to his delight, the chatty trinket merchant just so happened to be the victim. Truly, karma at it's finest; poetry if he'd ever read any (which he hadn't).
Do not dare speak of my mother in such a way, you dirty girl! With that, the little mare gave the jewelry merchant a hard knee to the chest. It wasn't until she had finished her rant that the watching equines hastily returned to their previous actions, buzzing excitedly among themselves in relief. Jemin flicked one long ear curiously. He managed to catch only a few words; something about an ambassador, and a handful of speculations as to what had sparked the outburst. He then returned his focus to the mare herself - his dark gaze meeting hers once more. A low, impressed whistle escaped his lips.
"Bravo. It was about time someone taught the kid a lesson."
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Post by PennthePony on Nov 3, 2016 21:37:19 GMT -6
Pale, lilac eyes met rich brown ones as Selora turned her body to address the stallion who had whistled lowly at her. Flicking her ears forward to listen to his words of praise - if you could consider it praise, the small statured Ambassador looked up at the stallion, who now stood not far from her. She lifted her head high, proudly turning her body to strike some sort of regal pose, though keeping her eyes humble in a strategic mark of diplomatic air.
And there were those damn butterflies in the pit of her belly again. Though her gaze did not falter, Selora found herself nervous to talk to the stallion. She had never truly had any love interests outside of Salvatore - and she had been a child back then. He had also never reciprocated her feelings, making her even less inexperienced in this game. But then, it wouldn't be a game, so long as she had control.
"Why, thank you, dear. No mare should ever speak in such a way about any one. It is quite unbecoming of a young lady." Selora flicked her tail, dropping her gaze to look past him, noticing the saddlebags he had started to take out from behind the shabby booth. And there that thought was again - how she could tell him the perfect way to run his booth. Perhaps that could be their connection point, she thought absently. Returning her wandering attentions to the mule stallion, she blinked, her dark, curled lashes fanning over almond-shaped, curious eyes. "So... What do they call you?"
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Post by Blubber-Bun on Nov 5, 2016 1:06:48 GMT -6
Watching as the mare turned towards him, she maintained an ever dignified (yet maybe even nervous) air. Although Jemin's first impression of her delicate form had been filled with wry skepticism, his opinion had certainly changed in the last minute alone. When this little bird wanted to fight, she fought hard. He'd certainly take care to remember it. And although typical Serorans were known for their independence and oftentimes ferocity, it was still refreshing to see it in action.
"Well, I can't argue with that. After the scare you gave her, she'll think twice before opening her mouth in the future." Another smile quirked the edge of his mouth, returning his focus to the conservation at hand. But Jemin realized that her eyes were now drifting past him, towards the rest of the booth.
Is it really that bad? Despite thinking the thought, the mule actually couldn't care for what this mare thought of his set-up. It was shabby, yeah, but he was unapologetic of it. Jemin needed only enough stability to keep things functioning. He worked best in chaos; or so he claimed. Setting aside the saddlebags, he then leaned forward against the counter, ears swiveled in the mare's downward direction. Her question was curious, and innocently so.
"I've been called many things," he replied nonchalantly, already deciding to keep the "many" other names to himself. Names such as thief, liar, coward. Yeah, probably best to leave those for a later time. This was supposed to be a good first impression, after all. "But I'll spare you the list. I just go by Jemin."
Just as he finished up his introduction, the counter which he'd been leaning against suddenly gave way.
Dang it. He knew he should have put in that spare nail.
The entire slab of dusted wood dropped to the ground. Thrown off balance, the mule stumbled forward clumsily, but reeled back in the same instance to avoid falling flat on his face. His hooves scoffed across the sand in a wild dance to regain footing. But eventually, he was able to straighten up - brown eyes still startled, and his mane somehow in a messier state then before. Alright...so maybe his "chaos" wasn't as carefully constructed as previously thought.... Maybe things would need a little tweaking. He frowned down at the broken counter.
And then Jemin glanced back up, realizing with a start that the mare had been there the entire time. Had he showed the briefest twinge of embarrassment, it was swiftly covered by a light, easy laugh.
"Heh...that happens sometimes. Anyways - what did you say your name was, again?"
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Post by PennthePony on Nov 5, 2016 18:40:49 GMT -6
Selora found her eyes really looking at this stallion, whom introduced himself very casually as Jemin. The name suited him, though she was not sure why. The name was noble, masculine. It sounded like a protector, like one who truly cared. By his appearance, Jemin could care less about much of anything - let alone his appearance. Dirt has caked itself on his hooves, and his coat was matted in some places. He was ruggedly handsome, but also very disorganized and very, well. Not put together, at all. Yet still there were those butterflies in the pit of her belly, swirling around and causing quite the uproar. For some reason, she found him charming, intriguing, elegant in his own way-
And then he fell. He had leaned on the counter of his booth for a mere second before it collapsed beneath him, nearly making him fall flat on his face before her. Selora stepped back, startled by the sudden creaking pop of the shifty countertop giving way beneath Jemin's weight. When he had righted himself, she tried her best not to giggle at him. He wasn't in any pain, obviously - as he had gotten up fairly quickly and was chuckling at himself, or perhaps with her? She wasn't laughing, was she?
Yet she found herself lightly laughing with him, smiling genuinely at him. Why, out of all the eligible stallions in Sedo and even Aquore, did she find appeal in this one? With his dirty hooves... Oh, that would definitely have to change. But otherwise, he was wooing her entirely. And he wasn't even doing anything. Just... talking, as if these were hardly formalities but instead they had known each other for years, and they were simply reintroducing themselves. It was strange and foreign, at best. But Selora went along with it, despite all her logic telling her to turn tail.
She snapped back from her wandering thoughts. He had asked her a question.
"Oh, my name!" Selora found herself nervously yet ever so lightly chuckling, making sure to keep herself in check. Never had she ever felt this strongly toward someone she had just met. "I am called Selora, Ambassador of Serora. But... you may call me whatever you wish." She answered, and then instantly regretted what she had said. What a moron! She chastised herself in her head, feeling a slight blush come to her cheeks. She never blushed. What on earth was she doing? Where was her dignity? She straightened herself, turning her head ever so slightly to appear mysterious. This stallion would not unravel her; she was determined to keep her disposition. They were still in public, after all. Selora had a reputation to protect.
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Post by Blubber-Bun on Nov 7, 2016 22:19:00 GMT -6
Jemin didn't have to laugh alone, as it turned out. And that was defiantly a plus in his book. Giving the fallen counter a light nudge with his hoof, he briefly examined the damage. It wasn't anything that couldn't be replaced, fortunately. After many (too many) years of similar mistakes, cheaper replacements had become something of an expertise for the mule.
But that would have to wait. What really mattered was the mare in front of him. And now he knew her name; Ambassador Selora. The title was vaguely familiar, although he couldn't quite figure out how - he never paid attention to politics, after all.
"Selora, hm? I'm feeling tempted to take that offer," he replied, grinning faintly. "Little Bird." Oh, yes. That sounded right once he'd actually spoken it aloud, rather then repeating it inside the jumbled thoughts of his head. It was then, while gauging for a reaction, that Jemin first noticed a peculiar shade of red on her face. Odd...did she have a sunburn? Or was she blushing?
But there was no sign of face sores. This was genuine blushing.
Jemin wasn't a stranger to this game, yet it surprised him nonetheless. Selora - getting flustered because of him? Hah! Ironic, really. He hadn't even cracked one of his "good" jokes yet. Really all they'd done was a bit of chit chat together.
Not that he'd be complaining, of course. If anything, he grew only more curious.
"So what's brought an ambassador out here to the dumps?" Jemin inquired, gesturing laxly to the bustling market around them.
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Post by PennthePony on Nov 9, 2016 19:39:18 GMT -6
The first utterance of her new nickname made Selora nearly hide herself among the dust. But that would've been both very strange and very disgusting. Dust harbored mites, and mites harbored germs, and germs harbored diseases, and diseases caused weakness and death. Feeling herself shudder inwardly, she held a small smile with the mule stallion, feeling her face cool down finally - well, sort of. It was still wretchedly hot out, and there was not a lick of shade in sight.
The mare noticed how he was looking at her though, with that blatant look of curiosity plastered on his face. Selora tilted her head, raising her head high, though not anywhere close to Jemin's height. She restored her dignified elegance, turning slightly to the side and flicking her tail. "I would not necessarily call this 'the dumps' as you said, but you are correct in saying it is a sad excuse for a market." She corrected him habitually - she always corrected people, making her both look marvelously intelligent and foolishly arrogant, neither of which she minded. "I reside here occasionally, if you must know. I live in the inner village of Osulas, more near the Sultan than I am to the city walls." The answer was curt and short, but she knew this alone would spike his curiosity. And he was looking at her in a strange way, but it still made the butterflies in the pit of her belly twirl about. Why was he looking at her like that? Even she, someone who was so very adept at reading faces and bodies alike, could not understand his stone-like eyes and the gaze he was giving her now.
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Post by Blubber-Bun on Nov 11, 2016 23:00:30 GMT -6
"Whatever you say."
He arched a wry brow at Selora's correction, which appeared to be some habit of hers. This mare clearly held herself to a certain standard, and no doubt expected the same from other equines. But Jemin rarely, if ever, was able to reach the standards of...well, anyone. And it didn't even bother him in the slightest. Formalities were wasted breath and expectations were wasted hopes in his mind. So he found it odd that she, as someone of such weighty disciplines, would be talking to him of all horse.
Under normal circumstances, Jemin didn't like to associate himself with politicians. Their heads worked in quick, foreign ways - ways that he had no desire to understand or learn. Yet this ambassador seemed different somehow. She was down here in the dust and dirt of the market - albeit, looking very out of place and uncomfortable - but engaging nonetheless. Perusing the sales, kneeing other mares over misplaced gossip, laughing along with him; these were all normal activities for any citizen. And the fact that she was here, talking to him rather then sitting up all high-and-mighty in an office, made him believe that she was different.
"Ah, so an Osulas dweller then? Wish I could say the same of myself, but I tend to travel. Gotta go with the seasons." He nodded towards the cart stationed behind them. It was made of dusted wood and four worn-down wheels. Much like the booth itself, the thing appeared ready to collapse at any moment. However, Jemin had proven it's hardiness time and time again. He sent a casting glance at the sky, so to get a quick gauge of the time.
"But normally I find myself back here each year... Who knows, perhaps we might just run into each other again?"
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Post by PennthePony on Nov 12, 2016 16:45:56 GMT -6
Selora raised a sharp brow, inquisitively watched the mule stallion. A nomadic... how interesting...
"Oh, yes, of course! I'm sure-"
She had not noticed how crowded the small market place had gotten over the course of an hour. Someone behind her bumped into her, pushing her forward. She started to snarl at the one who pushed her, but before she knew it, she had bumped chest-to-chest with Jemin, her Cascade of chocolate curls falling onto her neck, one stubborn curl from her forelock falling onto her face.
Pulling herself to stand again, her face a blushed red, Selora was abashed. How dreadfully embarrassing. "Oh, im terribly sorry! My apologies! Someone pushed me, oh dear." The petite grulla back, the redness on her cheeks not diminishing as she avoided eye contact. Oh, how utterly humiliating.
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Post by Blubber-Bun on Nov 13, 2016 1:46:46 GMT -6
When Jemin mentioned the possibility of running into each other, he hadn't meant it in a literal manner - and he could only assume that Selora hadn't gotten that memo, since running into him was exactly what she did.
"Okay, yes, hello there - wai -!" As she fell against him, the mule stallion reeled back upon impact, his hooves scrabbling for purchase across the sand. One hoof struck the fallen counter, and from that he quickly managed to stabilize the both of them against momentum. Safe. He released a small puff of relief, dark eyes still wide with surprise. He then allowed his gaze to fall downwards, to where Selora was hastily backing away; curls tossed wildly about her flushed face.
"No, no, it's fine. No injuries, so we're alright." Jemin straightened up, giving his mane a small shake. "Guess we're both feeling a bit clumsy today, huh?"
After catching his breath, he finally allowed himself to laugh. It was the sort of laughter which fills empty space - the sort of laughter that happens simply because there isn't anything else to do. As he did so, he lifted his chin to scan the passing crowd; searching for the culprit whom had pushed Selora. But they seemed to have left - and probably a wise decision on their part, for he didn't doubt they'd have faced the same wrath that the jewelry merchant had gotten.
"But hey - if we ever do that again, give me at least a five second heads up," he added slyly, shifting his eyes back to the ambassador.
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Post by PennthePony on Nov 13, 2016 23:18:59 GMT -6
Embarrassing, foolish, idiotic, humiliating.
She had fallen into a man whom she barely knew, and knew her cheeks to still be a flaming pink. Selora felt so... common. As if her elegance had been washed away, replaced by common clumsiness. Her cold demeanor returned to make up for her fumble, and the petite mare stood up straighter than before, more rigid than before.
Batting her eyelashes, unamused as Jemin laughed, Selora cleared her throats dryly. "Yes, indeed." She stated plainly, her political assumption had returned and an icy glaze about her face faltered for only a moment before she turned her eyes away from the stallion. "Yes, well, I really have much to do today. I must be going." Selora looked back to Jemin, the pink tint flushed from her dark face. "Goodbye, Jemin. It was nice to meet your acquaintance, dear." The mare started to turn to leave rather abruptly, feeling rather ashamed. He had laughed at her... she hadn't laughed, so it must have been at her. Oh, how humiliating.
Notes: Jemin, ask her outttttttt before it's too lateeeee
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Post by Blubber-Bun on Nov 18, 2016 18:45:03 GMT -6
Oops. Did he say something wrong?
It was within that moment, just as she gave him the cold shoulder, that Jemin came to terms with reality; in the long run, this mare was going to be difficult to get along with. Very difficult. Perhaps it was her sudden iciness, or the sheer lack of amusement in her eyes that gave away the impression of "we're finished here". It was to be expected from those of the politico type. Formalities, cleanliness, manners...what made him think this acquaintance would ever turn out well?
Yet Selora had proved to be a little fun earlier, especially when she wasn't too busy guarding her thoughts or - Alya forbid - her reputation. He'd seen her loosen her grip for the briefest of moments, and maybe it was that one moment that convinced him into giving things another shot.
The mule pushed aside the counter, stepping forward as Selora began to turn away. His tapered ears flicked tersely. "Hang on a moment."
Now...what to say? Jemin was being propelled to action by a simple gut feeling. An intuition that urged him to go go go. "Not to make assumptions, but it doesn't seem like you've been around this part of town recently. If you're not busy tomorrow, I could...show you around a bit? That's when activity really starts to pick up. And my friend - he's preforming here in the market then."
"Although of course I wouldn't want to intrude on any of your...er, ambassador-y business."
Notes: yeaaaaaa Also I was wondering if this would be a good place to wrap up this rp? ^^ Or, if you'd rather, we could stay here and do a time skip to the next night
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Post by PennthePony on Dec 1, 2016 9:31:57 GMT -6
The pale mare stopped in her tracks, turning her head over her shoulder to look back at the mule. His proposition was... curious, at best. " Alright, then. You may show me around town... 'round noon, we can meet here. Yes? Yes, I think that will do nicely." And once again her air of authority trumped the conversation. Selora did not truly believe she'd ever learn to speak to common folk properly... But then again, what did it matter? Her rank as am Ambassador was above them all, especially among the Talori. And though Serorans did not believe in silly things such as rank, it was Selora's pride and joy. Which, of course, would probably be her downfall. Turning once again away from the mule stallion, she said in a uncharacteristically warm tone, " Until tomorrow, Jemin." And with that, she sauntered away, her pale coat seeming to glow under the harsh sunlight. And what could truly be in store for tomorrow, Selora wondered. Only the Gods know.Notes: end of roleplay c: Word Count: 166 Tags: Blubber-Bun |
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