"You're not used to people much, are you?" Alex chuckled. He scratched the back of his neck. "I cannot really say that I am, either." He smiled a little bit. "Tell me about yourself. What brings you here?"
Alex was really only curious because he felt that making allies in this place might be to his advantage. It was never nice to be alone in this world. Having a friend who couldn't see would be one better--IF he could win this woman over: She couldn't recognize him. He sighed in relief and began to relax at this realization.
"May I walk you home?" he asked.
Performance Night
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Alexanderthegreat
- Outsider
- Posts: 13
- Joined: Mon May 04, 2009 3:47 am
- Name: Alexander Hallow
- Race: Human
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Shyael Falanae
- Outsider
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Sun May 03, 2009 3:42 am
- Name: Shyael Falanae
- Race: Elf
Re: Performance Night
Shyael pointedly ignored Alex's question about why she was in Marn and turned her blind gaze in another direction. To be honest, she didn't feel her reasons for being here were any of his business, and it was a rather touchy subject for her, anyway. She wasn't about to disclose personal details of the situation to a total stranger - pleasant or not. Not even her landlord knew much about her situation.
When he asked to walk her home, she couldn't help but sense that the question sounded much more relaxed. She had no idea what the heck that was supposed to indicate, but she didn't feel comfortable accepting the offer. Her insecurities were beginning to kick in.
She turned and hurried away. "Thanks, but no... I can make it back on my own."
When she reached the point where she was going to cross the main street, she paused and stood in silence for a moment or two, listening to her surroundings to make certain it was safe to cross. When it sounded like the coast was clear, she walked with a quick pace across the road. It had happened in the past that she nearly got hit by passing carriages and she always felt uneasy taking this route home - but she didn't have much choice.
When he asked to walk her home, she couldn't help but sense that the question sounded much more relaxed. She had no idea what the heck that was supposed to indicate, but she didn't feel comfortable accepting the offer. Her insecurities were beginning to kick in.
She turned and hurried away. "Thanks, but no... I can make it back on my own."
When she reached the point where she was going to cross the main street, she paused and stood in silence for a moment or two, listening to her surroundings to make certain it was safe to cross. When it sounded like the coast was clear, she walked with a quick pace across the road. It had happened in the past that she nearly got hit by passing carriages and she always felt uneasy taking this route home - but she didn't have much choice.
Re: Performance Night
Flick watched carefully as the flautist hurried away from the human, and followed at a careful distance to make sure the woman didn't get hit by passing traffic, or have anything else untoward happen to her. Blindness was a severe handicap, and although it seemed the woman could get around perfectly well, Flick was intrigued and fascinated. She had never been able to create music of any great quality herself, so greatly admired the quality in others.
That was the initial reason why she had followed the woman, out of curiosity to see how people so much better than her lived when they weren't spinning their magic over the masses. Even though there was no spellcraft that she had sensed in the woman's playing, it was magic all the same, entrancing the audience and changing their moods with a few presses on the flute keys.
She was fully aware that she was acting like a stalker. It was an interesting concept, but since she didn't intend to do anything creepy like steal the flautist's underwear or even carry on the 'stalking' after tonight, she didn't think it counted. Although that was probably what the real stalkers said to themselves. 'I won't do it again.' But they did.
She found herself catching up with the woman, and dropped back. She'd had a flyer about tonight's events, and tried to remember the stalkee's name. Shyael. A pretty name. It suited the woman, as far as Flick could tell.
She got lost in her musings, and her mind even left the subject of who she was following and why. She unconsciously speeded up again, and without noticing, got closer and closer to the flautist.
That was the initial reason why she had followed the woman, out of curiosity to see how people so much better than her lived when they weren't spinning their magic over the masses. Even though there was no spellcraft that she had sensed in the woman's playing, it was magic all the same, entrancing the audience and changing their moods with a few presses on the flute keys.
She was fully aware that she was acting like a stalker. It was an interesting concept, but since she didn't intend to do anything creepy like steal the flautist's underwear or even carry on the 'stalking' after tonight, she didn't think it counted. Although that was probably what the real stalkers said to themselves. 'I won't do it again.' But they did.
She found herself catching up with the woman, and dropped back. She'd had a flyer about tonight's events, and tried to remember the stalkee's name. Shyael. A pretty name. It suited the woman, as far as Flick could tell.
She got lost in her musings, and her mind even left the subject of who she was following and why. She unconsciously speeded up again, and without noticing, got closer and closer to the flautist.
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Shyael Falanae
- Outsider
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Sun May 03, 2009 3:42 am
- Name: Shyael Falanae
- Race: Elf
Re: Performance Night
Shyael didn't notice she was being followed. Though it was later in the day, there were still a lot of citizens about in Marn. So her concentration was solely focused on her surroundings to keep from colliding with anything or anyone. That, and she had to keep careful track of where she was walking to avoid getting lost in this crazy town.
She hated this long walk. With her attention having to say so focused for a good twenty plus minutes, it left her feeling vulnerable. She was always glad to get home, where she didn't have to pay so much attention and could just stay away from everybody else.
At long last she finally reached a simple-looking place in the more run-down area of the residential district. The landlord and tenants kept the place neat enough, but it was still not quite up to snuff with many peoples' standards. But she couldn't really complain - at least the one who owned the place had been kind enough to allow the particular arrangement they set up so she'd still have some money to take home.
Shyael paused again before crossing the street, and that when she finally noticed a set of footsteps nearby - a little closer than what she thought was normal. But she didn't think it unusual for any other reasons, so she ignored it and headed for the house.
She hated this long walk. With her attention having to say so focused for a good twenty plus minutes, it left her feeling vulnerable. She was always glad to get home, where she didn't have to pay so much attention and could just stay away from everybody else.
At long last she finally reached a simple-looking place in the more run-down area of the residential district. The landlord and tenants kept the place neat enough, but it was still not quite up to snuff with many peoples' standards. But she couldn't really complain - at least the one who owned the place had been kind enough to allow the particular arrangement they set up so she'd still have some money to take home.
Shyael paused again before crossing the street, and that when she finally noticed a set of footsteps nearby - a little closer than what she thought was normal. But she didn't think it unusual for any other reasons, so she ignored it and headed for the house.
Re: Performance Night
As Shyael went up to the house, Flick started back into reality and the transition made her stumble and fall on a raised piece of road. Only her quick reactions made her twist at the last minute and land on her shoulder - she had worked on falling well, since she wasn't particularly indelicate, and one of her wrists had been broken that way before. No lasting damage, but it had left her wary of catching herself with her hands.
She swore under her breath, continuously and without repeating, for quite a while, until she realised that lying on the ground swearing like a klaboutermannikin was not productive, and attempted to get to her feet. She deliberately didn't use her arm to push her up, knowing that it would have a big purple bruise on it by the following morning. If she was really lucky, she'd have pulled a muscle or something.
She could glamour it up though, so it should be okay.
Just in case anyone had seen her mishap, she went into burble-mode. "Move along folks, nothing to see here. Just a strange person tumbling to her doom on this fine pavement. Very comfortable it is too." Then she noticed the flautist she had been stalking, and realised that she hadn't really intended her rant to be audible to anyone. She lowered her voice. "I mean, come on, what was i supposed to do? Snap my wings out? From that grammer? Wait, glamour, not grammer. What am I on? But my glamours not exactly weak. Thank you Dilly, for that." Dilly was the one who had taught her that very specific glamour. It had cost excessively much, so her thanks weren't entirely sincere. "I can't fly on such short notice. And without full space? I'd've crushed them. Ouch. Been there done that, got the little crumples. Never try ironing wings. I tried it, before i knew they had nerves in them. It hurt a bit. At least they're better now."
Still mumbling to no one in particular, she pretended she wasn't completely lost and shuffled along, past Shyael and her house, hoping that she could find her way back to the inn she had booked in at before it stopped letting people in. Although it wasn't too late yet, that wasn't an entirely unlikely prospect. Flick's sense of direction was abysmal.
She turned around sharply with one finger raised in an 'i-have-an-idea' sort of pose. "Miss flute lady," she called. "Do you know where The Spork and Kracken pub thing is? 'Cos i don't. And i need to get there. Soon," she added in undertones, to herself. "Before i make an even bigger idiot of myself. Not that it matters. Everyone thinks i'm crazy anyway. They're probably right..."
She swore under her breath, continuously and without repeating, for quite a while, until she realised that lying on the ground swearing like a klaboutermannikin was not productive, and attempted to get to her feet. She deliberately didn't use her arm to push her up, knowing that it would have a big purple bruise on it by the following morning. If she was really lucky, she'd have pulled a muscle or something.
She could glamour it up though, so it should be okay.
Just in case anyone had seen her mishap, she went into burble-mode. "Move along folks, nothing to see here. Just a strange person tumbling to her doom on this fine pavement. Very comfortable it is too." Then she noticed the flautist she had been stalking, and realised that she hadn't really intended her rant to be audible to anyone. She lowered her voice. "I mean, come on, what was i supposed to do? Snap my wings out? From that grammer? Wait, glamour, not grammer. What am I on? But my glamours not exactly weak. Thank you Dilly, for that." Dilly was the one who had taught her that very specific glamour. It had cost excessively much, so her thanks weren't entirely sincere. "I can't fly on such short notice. And without full space? I'd've crushed them. Ouch. Been there done that, got the little crumples. Never try ironing wings. I tried it, before i knew they had nerves in them. It hurt a bit. At least they're better now."
Still mumbling to no one in particular, she pretended she wasn't completely lost and shuffled along, past Shyael and her house, hoping that she could find her way back to the inn she had booked in at before it stopped letting people in. Although it wasn't too late yet, that wasn't an entirely unlikely prospect. Flick's sense of direction was abysmal.
She turned around sharply with one finger raised in an 'i-have-an-idea' sort of pose. "Miss flute lady," she called. "Do you know where The Spork and Kracken pub thing is? 'Cos i don't. And i need to get there. Soon," she added in undertones, to herself. "Before i make an even bigger idiot of myself. Not that it matters. Everyone thinks i'm crazy anyway. They're probably right..."
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Shyael Falanae
- Outsider
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Sun May 03, 2009 3:42 am
- Name: Shyael Falanae
- Race: Elf
Re: Performance Night
Shyael had her hand on the door and was just about to head inside when she heard someone fall onto the pavement behind her, and automatically she paused to listen to what was going on. She heard the louder part of the woman's rants, but couldn't quite make out what she said when she dropped her voice and started mumbling.
As she listened, she assumed the one who stepped past her to be the one who had tripped. Since it seemed the incident was over and the other woman didn't sound any worse for wear, she pushed the door open and was about to step inside.
But she had to stop again when the same voice she heard ranting a moment earlier called and asked if she knew where a particular establishment was located. Shyael didn't think she was the best person to ask for directions, being blind and all. Then again, she sometimes forgot that others might not recognize she had such a handicap.
But she did happen to know where the Spork and Kracken was. She played there every couple of weeks.
Taking a quick moment to orientate herself, she pointed off to the north and said simply, "About five blocks that way."
As she listened, she assumed the one who stepped past her to be the one who had tripped. Since it seemed the incident was over and the other woman didn't sound any worse for wear, she pushed the door open and was about to step inside.
But she had to stop again when the same voice she heard ranting a moment earlier called and asked if she knew where a particular establishment was located. Shyael didn't think she was the best person to ask for directions, being blind and all. Then again, she sometimes forgot that others might not recognize she had such a handicap.
But she did happen to know where the Spork and Kracken was. She played there every couple of weeks.
Taking a quick moment to orientate herself, she pointed off to the north and said simply, "About five blocks that way."
Re: Performance Night
"Thank you," Flick called chirpily. She hadn't realised she was so close. She watched her step this time as she set off, mind whirling once again on a multitude of irrelevant non-useful subjects.
Flick stayed at the Spork and Kracken for a while after that, trying to get her bearings so that she wouldn't get lost again. She also refrained from going out too much, as she had been quite weirded out by her internal stalker, and studied human behaviour from her window, trying to understand and adopt some of their more common mannerisms.
The practice could hardly be termed a success, since when she slowed down her thought processes enough to listen to responses, she got distracted from her line of thought and ended up saying, "wait- where was i?" half way through a sentence when she hadn't even gone off on a tangent.
But at some point during the next couple of weeks, she heard a familiar fluting wind its way up the stairs, and once again found herself entranced by the beauty of it. She left her room and went all the way down to the bar, so that she could watch the blind girl captivating the audience. She didn't intend to do anything afterwards this time, but swallowed drink after drink as she watched the set from almost-beginning to end. Anyone watching, or even paying attention, would think that she was very drunk by now (and her hyperactive behaviour only encouraged this) but she was actually stone-cold sober. Alcohol didn't affect her system.
Flick stayed at the Spork and Kracken for a while after that, trying to get her bearings so that she wouldn't get lost again. She also refrained from going out too much, as she had been quite weirded out by her internal stalker, and studied human behaviour from her window, trying to understand and adopt some of their more common mannerisms.
The practice could hardly be termed a success, since when she slowed down her thought processes enough to listen to responses, she got distracted from her line of thought and ended up saying, "wait- where was i?" half way through a sentence when she hadn't even gone off on a tangent.
But at some point during the next couple of weeks, she heard a familiar fluting wind its way up the stairs, and once again found herself entranced by the beauty of it. She left her room and went all the way down to the bar, so that she could watch the blind girl captivating the audience. She didn't intend to do anything afterwards this time, but swallowed drink after drink as she watched the set from almost-beginning to end. Anyone watching, or even paying attention, would think that she was very drunk by now (and her hyperactive behaviour only encouraged this) but she was actually stone-cold sober. Alcohol didn't affect her system.