| Logs |
2011 November 11
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Taps Logs |
Welcome to the Grand Illusion
Sulochana muses swiftly as she steps neatly to the elder's side: what does she know so far? He's not human, clearly. He's curiously determined to negotiate; she doesn't know why. She'd consider it merely a prelude to a no, but for one disturbing fact: Malachai has not even asked her for her name! Usually with an older man that means they've already mentally tagged her with some nickname, and are feeling possessive, or already seeing her in some personal internal fantasy. She's guessing the poor man has some personal issues as well, considering he's smiling so oddly too. Maybe he lost teeth as a child or something?
'Chana's smile doesn't slip at all, but she is a little worried now -- especially since walking around the town could be a prelude to trying to slip her out of sight. She's warily glad both Rattler and Chanti insisted on coming along, since this way one can stay with the camel, and the other can stroll along with her and this strange man. Rattler moves to follow, staying a few paces back. 'Chana can, after all, take very good care of herself if the situation gets too far out of hand, and he's close enough to intervene if it only gets slightly out of hand.
As they start down the hillside, Malachai looks down at the Hetaera and says, "Rachel says your name is Sulochana. It is an interesting name. It sounds almost Italian." The tawny eyes are still staying on her quite a lot, yet he doesn't miss a step -- even on the uneven parts of the path down from his house.
Sulochana smiles lazily, although since she's wearing heels she's more careful to keep an eye on the path, "Italian... like from that town called Little Italy, near Newer York? No, I was actually born on the other coast. My mother told me Sulochana is a name from the Indias." She grins faintly, relieved Rachel managed to remember the Hetaera's name, even if she couldn't remember the name of the caravan's leader.
Malachai's smile flashes again, but this time the lips are slightly parted. The teeth inside are a little yellowed, but that's not unusual. They all seem to be present and in good shape, however. "I do not know where the Indias are. Is that like Indians? There were a good many of those here before the Sickness. After, they did much like us: they gathered together, and the tribes are now stronger for it."
Suraksha considers thoughtfully, "I... do not think Amma meant the red-skinned peoples. Apparently the Indias are over the oceans to the west... at least according to the sailors and the merfolk?"
They've reached the foot of the hill and are starting down the main street. The houses are all very neatly kept, and the ones with board walls rather than logs are carefully whitewashed. There doesn't seem to be a lot of other colors in the paint schemes, though the few shops have signs that are painted in other colors. The first names Sulochana can see listed seem to come largely from the Christian Bible; the last names have very little variation. The largest building besides Malachai's house is a church. "Then you come from very, very far away. According to our records, we come from the other way. A far cold place."
Sulochana nods slowly, her voice thoughtful, "Yes, I would have guessed that by the, er... the runes, I think?" She reaches over with her free hand to lightly touch one embroidered on Malachai's sleeve. "One of the caravaneers said they reminded him of runes. What do they mean?" Everywhere one looks there are decorations, though they are subtle and most of them are carved. The runic marks are much in evidence, as are angular patterns and quite a few spirals. Sulochana smiles as she looks around and starts spotting them -- now she knows what to look for.
Malachai's eyes soften as she touches his arm, "Some are protection. Some are warnings. Some are bragging." He pauses in front of the small smithy and points to the writing around the door, "Those speak of Enoch's great-grandfather's strength and brag that he could carry a full-grown ox over his shoulders." The tooth-hiding smile comes again, "It is not true, of course, but men like to tell stories of their deeds. I have told such tales in my time."
Sulochana laughs at that, her eyes sparkling -- she's familiar with men and their bragging! She grins up at the elder walking next to her, her tone gently teasing, "Maybe just a few, then?" She chuckles, looking around as she adds, "I notice you all have rather Biblical names, and Rachel said you taught the children their religious learning. What sort of teachings do you give them?" The Hetaera mentally crosses her fingers that this place is not as Christian as it seems on the surface. She has no desire whatsoever to be regarded as a "Jezebel" or "Whore of Babylon," and she has no patience with that sort of possessive nonsense. Her small smile is wry as she remembers how it took almost a year and a half for young Zachariah to break free from that damaging mind set.
Malachai says, "Our names come from the Bible because the old names have deep, strong meanings and it was the custom of our ancestors to think long and carefully on names." His eyes sweep around the street where people are carefully not-staring, which is different than not paying attention. "We do the same, and so we prefer to know what the names mean. My name, for instance, means Messenger. Malachai was a prophet. I have no such gift, but it was said that my birth was an omen." There's a tinge of humor in his voice as he says, "You need not worry that we will be judgmental of your profession. Our religion is a strict but loving one."
Sulochana raises an amused eyebrow at that, her lips curved up in a small smile, "Dear me, am I so transparent, then?" She chuckles as she tilts her head enough to glance sideways at him, her almond-shaped and golden-green eyes brilliant, "Sulochana means She of the Beautiful Eyes." She curiously adds, "What was your birth an omen of, if I may ask?" She knows better than to get into the meaning of the rest of her names, or her family's extensive naming genealogies.
Malachai studies her carefully, honey-brown eyes thoughtful, "It is an apt name, then. Do your people choose names at adulthood or do you name children for what you wish them to be?"
Sulochana is still smiling as she glances away again, dissembling, "I don't know, really. The city I was born in had many types of people there, after all, and they all had their own practices. How about you? I take it the omen at your birth was important?" The Hetaera is starting to feel vaguely uneasy again. Malachai certainly does seem to ignore any question he's not interested in... and he seems to be quite interested in her background. She sighs softly, internally, chastising herself -- most likely the poor man is just trying to make conversation! She carefully keeps on her charming Hetaera mask.
Malachai says, "The omen of my birth was that my people were not to die out. There had many children die and I was the first to live in almost two years." His voice is careful, almost flat as he speaks of it. One strong hand motions around the town as they come to the foot of the main street, "We do not have many kinds of people here, and that was needful once. But perhaps it is not so now."
Sulochana gives Malachai a startled glance, reacting instinctively as a mother. She puts her free hand on his arm again, and her voice is warm with compassion, "Oh, no -- how terrible for your families! I'm so sorry. I'm glad, though, to hear it has improved now." She gives him a puzzled look as she adds, "I'm sorry, I don't understand; what was needful once?"
They are now standing at the far end of the main road, looking up the length of the town and Malachai's eyes are faraway as he says, "Keeping so much to ourselves."
There's more compassion in Sulochana's voice as she looks up at Malachai and murmurs gently, "The Dying Off is long over with now, Malachai. There are bigots still, but you and your people will also find kind and accepting folk should you choose to emerge." She tilts her head thoughtfully, adding, "This was a self-imposed exile? Do you think of re-connecting with the world now? If so, I would heartily concur." She's rather pleased to hear this, in fact -- it explains a lot, including the odd feelings she's been getting. Clearly these are people unused to others. She's glad to encourage them to rejoin the world and engage in trade... maybe even have more people traveling through.
Malachai's eyes have darkened slightly, the honey-brown deepening, "It is not that we are afraid of not being accepted. We know we are blessed and chosen. We are afraid our children will not remember that." He looks back up the street and apparently sees a signal of some kind, "It is time we started back. You will stay to dinner? Your men can stay as well if you like."
Sulochana chuckles quietly, although she gets a faint twinge of worry again at the commentary about being "chosen" -- that ideology rather concerns her. "We must get back, actually, although I thank you for the invitation. We have a show tonight to prepare for, for your people!"
Malachai doesn't exactly look crestfallen, but his lips flex slightly as if he had begun to frown and stopped himself, "Yes. Of course. We are looking forward to it."
Sulochana raises a mental eyebrow at that look, wondering if Malachai is really that interested in the show, or if it's mostly for his people -- or even perhaps for the excitable Rachel. That thought makes her smile, and she cheerfully replies, "Well then, let us hasten back, so we can get our show on the road to you all as quickly as possible, yes? I was thinking perhaps the open flat area before that building there for our performing area?" She points, glancing at Malachai again.
Up on the hill at the big house, Chanticleer has been surrounded by eager children and more than a few inquisitive adults. The whole time 'Chana, Rattler, and Malachai have been walking through the town, there's been a bustle around Malachai's house, and a smell of roasting meat becomes evident. One of the older men asks if the caravan has musicians that will perform for the townsfolk to dance or if it will be purely an exhibition. Chanticleer is happy to describe what they have for entertainment, though he notes to the questioners that the musicians in the caravan usually just plays as accompaniment for the entertainers.
Malachai looks where the Hetaera is pointing and purses his lips thoughtfully. His eyes flicker up toward his house for a moment, considering, before he says, "It would perhaps be the easiest place for you to set up. When shall we begin arriving?" They start the walk back up the road; even if 'Chana is not staying to dinner, her camel is up there.
Sulochana laughs, patting Malachai's arm, "Oh, you'll know when -- you'll hear us coming, I'm sure!" She grins impishly as she adds, "Give us about, oh... half an hour?" She knows everyone will be ready to go; only she needs to change, after all. As they reach where the kneeling Amanda is placidly chewing her cud under Chanti's watchful eye, Sulochana grins and drops a simple curtsy to the elder before sliding quickly onto Amanda's saddle, "We'll see you very soon, Malachai!"
Malachai does not bow, but he inclines his head slightly, "We will see you then, Sulochana." He waits and watches them all the way down the hill. Several of the children follow along for a while until they are called back by the adults.
The Hetaera laughs and teases with the children as Rattler leads the camel back towards the caravan's encampment. It's only when they're well away from the town that she glances at the two men and murmurs, "All right. First: any particular requests for the entertainment tonight?"
Chanticleer murmurs once they're out of sight, "Anyone else find that rather unsettling?"
Sulochana smiles ruefully at Chanti, "Yes, rather. But first, let's plan -- we want to bring in as much as possible for the entertainers."
Rattler says, "Place is kinda creepy, yeah. Ain't nobody raised a hand in anger, though. Still, probably best we keep on the lookout for tonight." Rattler is doing his damnedest not to scowl. Malachai's body language had been casual, but it had also been very proprietary -- if not actually possessive. The king-in-hiding doesn't mention it, however, trusting his cherie to have noticed it.
Sulochana nods thoughtfully to Rattler, "You got that too? Well enough -- we'll do so." She looks inquiringly back at Chanticleer, waiting for him to say what people asked for, regarding entertainment.
Chanticleer nods. "They were asking about music to dance to. I told them that we usually just play music for the entertainers, as per usual. I didn't tell them why, just that we don't normally play music for everyone to dance to." He also mentions the request from the children for musicians, dancers, and play-actors, as well as the parents' reactions to those requests.
Sulochana brightens, "Excellent! We have dancers, and we can certainly make sure some of the acrobats perform little playlets. Good work, Chanti!"
The caravan has been preparing for what they think of a basic show: tumblers, some dancing, musicians to play while the other acts are going on. There are always one or two short plays they can put on with very little notice -- nothing complex, of course. For that, they need to be in a town for a while. When the three negotiators get back to the caravan 'Chana quickly lets folks know what the town is interested in, and people dash about doing some last-minute alterations to costume and plan. In the interim, and with Fantine's able assistance, 'Chana swiftly changes clothes into her belly dancer's outfit.
Soon the entertainers are ready to parade into the town again. Before they do so, however, 'Chana pauses to give hugs to both Chanti and Rattler, thanking them for escorting her. "You were right -- it did feel a little... off. I'm glad you were there." Rattler rumbles something about just doing what he can to help and skulks off. He won't be performing tonight; it was long ago decided that having him do so would defeat the purpose of him hiding. Chanticleer gets dressed up in his usual wear for such an event -- not the armor, but the colorful clothing that lets him be seen as a part of the caravan, and yet not clearly entertainment. He can change out quickly enough if he needs to be one of the acrobats.
The little parade of entertainers comes into the town on one end, traveling slowly up the main street to the area indicated by Malachai. As Sulochana promised, there's no missing it: the musicians are all playing for all they're worth, where they ride on Gajara's back in a decorated palanquin. Her mahout, one of the Sokoloff girls, is waving from her seat on Gajara's neck, while the elephant is happily raising her feet high with each step, so the big jingly anklets chime and ring. An occasional excited trumpet from her makes all the brilliantly dressed acrobats dashing and darting about her laugh and wave as well, as they toss the occasional streamer or small candy to the children. The handful of belly dancers are swaying gracefully before the elephant, and the three Amazons (the two young women and their newest "acquisition") canter back and forth, whooping and whistling. Elegantly and beautifully dressed people walk or ride along in the parade as well, and tall, slender Chanticleer in his gorgeous blue coat leads the way.
The parade draws everyone's attention! The caravan finds some of the townies have been setting up seats on one edge of the clearing -- some benches, some look like pews, some are various kitchen chairs, and there are even a few chunks of log. The children are helping out, though they have to be recalled to their tasks fairly often. Many of the townsfolk have brought food of various sorts, mostly of the picnic variety: cold chicken, fruit, fried dough -- and someone has set up a long trench table with some sort of drink with bits of fruit floating in it. Also, for the first time people that look like they might be edging into old age are apparent. They were not in the streets before, and there are not a lot of them. The largest part of the population looks to be between twelve and thirty-two.
A small ring is quickly rolled out from pieces of carpet and padding. The various entertainers circle around it once before regrouping on the far side of the ring from the audience, waiting for Chanticleer, their ringmaster, to open ceremonies. Chanticleer plays up to the audience, not being boisterous -- that really doesn't suit him -- but being energetic and excited and projecting happiness to present the myriad acts for the town of Friendship. As soon as he does so, there's a burst of cheering from the entertainers -- they're a very audience-immersive group, after all -- as the Sokoloffs run into the ring and begin the show.
Malachai is in the front row of the seating along with several of the older members of the townspeople, both male and female. The clothing is universally sturdy, but the embroidered decorations are much in evidence. It's not always immediately evident, but it is almost always there. Several of them are also wearing lockets or pendants of some sort. Sulochana studies the crowd quietly from where she stands waiting, slightly behind Gajara's front leg. The big elephant agrees with the Hetaera: something smells odd here, and there seem to be a few non-humans. Malachai is not the only one, although he seems -- from the body language 'Chana is carefully watching -- to be the dominant one.
The entertainers are all old hands at this, and the show flows smoothly and excitingly: the acrobatic Sokoloffs tumble and spring off Gajara and each other with airy grace. When they're done with being athletic, they and others perform a few playlets. Simultaneously the musicians shift from their darting, laughing music into something softer, for background music. Once the plays are over the music grows wilder, more howling, for the Amazons. As two of their ponies thunder around the tiny ring, the two women show off their skill -- swinging around to stand on the ponies' backs, or hang from their necks, or swoop up handkerchiefs from the ground. After that the music slows and develops a heavy beat as the belly dancers take the ring, dancing in the middle as the roustabouts swiftly flatten down where the ponies' hooves might have trampled the grass a little. There's a display of shooting and juggling from some of the more adroit entertainers (including the four-armed Sna'tha), then a grand finale as everyone re-enters the ring and takes their final bows, while the caravan's brightly-dressed children pass the hat.
There are cheers and happy shouts at all the entertainments. The whole town is very vocal in their appreciation, as much so or even more than using actual applause. The horseback stunts seem to be a favorite among the younger women, the tumblers the favorite of the children, and the playlets seem to be very exciting for the children that are just heading into adolescence. Unlike some towns the caravan has visited, the adults don't send the children away when the belly dancers appear. Malachai watches most of the acts with appreciation and applauds and puts something into the hat, but he actually leans forward with his elbows on his knees to watch the dancing. His eyes never stray from 'Chana, even though she wears a veil and it isn't immediately obvious who she is. Sulochana is a bit surprised at how easily Malachai picks her out. She smiles behind the veil and flutters her eyelashes just like the other dancers, but -- since negotiations are still open -- she's careful not to focus just on Malachai.
The town doesn't use a lot of money, but every child seems to have at least a copper coin or two to put into the hats, and the older townsfolk put in larger coins. There are also trinkets and such made of gold, copper, and even steel, which is used as money in some of the more industrial settlements. What there is not is silver. The Hetaera is pleased to see the townsfolk are generous as the hats are passed around, and she laughs and waves with all the others as the entertainers form up to parade, with tired pleasure, back to the campground. Padding along with the others, 'Chana wonders amusedly what Malachai will offer in payment, or if he'll be by that night. She notices most of the pendants seem to be various sorts of stones in simple gold settings. That intrigues her: is there a goldmine nearby?
The rest of the caravaneers -- the ones who stayed to keep watch over wagons and livestock -- are thrilled to hear of how well things went. When the entertainers move to go back to their campsite, they are greeted with food and drink. Most of the acts are fairly physical, after all, and work up quite an appetite. Sulochana laughs and happily returns the hug, and a heated kiss, when Rattler scoops her up and swings her around in congratulations.
After that, of course, she changes clothes, then heads back to work (with Alg and the dogs and children all frisking happily around) to see how the caravaneers are doing. Dominic follows solemnly after her, making notes of peoples' needs and letting Suraksha know if anyone has asked for her help or for anything in particular. Since they're near a town with a decent blacksmith, Sura's particularly open to requests for that sort of repairs -- broken buckles, holed buckets, new horseshoe nails, damaged wagon wheels, that sort of thing.
Chanticleer passes the hats on to Sna'tha and Fantine for counting and adding to the caravan's coffers. He thinks the show went very well tonight, and the take is appropriate; it'll certainly be helping in the future. Fantine is elated at how well things went; she beams shyly at Chanticleer and pats his hand lightly once as she accepts the gatherings. Chanticleer smiles cheerfully to Fantine, very glad to have made her happy. It's been a rough trip, and a little extra lucre will make things all the more comfortable when they reach the next major city.
As night draws down, the caravan prepares for the night. Watches are set, though it's done carefully -- no need to insult the townies, after all. Ohkwa stands silently, his unlit pipe in hand as he tamps tobacco into it. He's facing into the erratic evening breeze that's starting to drift here from Friendsville. The big man looks... thoughtful. Suraksha is relieved; no Malachai yet. Maybe he's decided to quietly let things go. She's heading back to her wagon to give the girls their goodnight kisses after Fantine has tucked them in. She pauses to check with Chanti: does he still not need her as night watch, or should she shift and help out?
Chanticleer considers. "I think we're okay for the time being," he says. "We're near a town that seems to like us, and it seems to be a good area. They're a... strange bunch, but I don't think we'll have any problems. I'm having the watch remain in constant touch with each other, each guard pair in sight of at least two others at all times, and that should be suitable."
Suraksha nods in relief, leaning tiredly against Chanticleer for a moment, "Oh, good. I don't mean to be a whiner, but I could sure use a full night's sleep!" She smiles and gives the sidhe a gentle hug, "Thanks, dear."
Chanticleer laughs softly and hugs Suraksha warmly. "It's fine, Lady. It's been an odd day. Sleep well. Don't worry, we'll wake you if something's awry."
Suraksha beams in quiet affection at Chanti, patting his arm, then turns and heads for her wagon, where Rattler and les bebes await her. Fantine is on the tiny porch with Rattler, both holding a hot cup of tea, with an extra for her, and Sura's face lights up in a tired smile as she heads towards them. Ohkwari ambles over while Chanti and 'Chana are speaking. The big manitou rarely moves at anything over a saunter. He's puffing slowly on his pipe, "Make sure you've got dogs with some of the guards."
Suraksha pauses to glance over her shoulder at Ohkwa, her voice soft, "Something off, dear?"
Ohkwa says, "Just feels like there might be something out there other'n people."
Suraksha smiles ruefully and nods, "Definitely. Gajara and Chanti both concur." She grins at the sidhe, then turns and heads for her wagon.
Rattler has been tucking the girls in; he wraps 'Chana up in a hug and kiss when she comes inside. "Hear y'all did pretty damn good out there. Lit'rally. I could hear them hootin' and shoutin' down here."
Suraksha laughs happily, hugging her beloved back tightly, "I think so! Even if Malachai cannot afford a Hetaera, hopefully we'll be able to do a bit of re-stocking here tomorrow." She sighs happily as she nuzzles his cheek, adding, "I'm glad you won't have to stick by the caravan while I'm off Hetaera'ing, lover."
Rattler snorts quietly and kisses her nose, "Be surprised if he don' make an offer. He was lookin' at you like you were somethin' good to eat and he was a starvin' man."
Suraksha laughs softly, shaking her head, "Unless there's a goldmine nearby -- and considering the pendants a lot of them were wearing, I won't rule that out -- but unless he's got more gold than sense, I doubt he can afford a Hetaera. I don't get the impression he'd bleed the town for his desires, too... fortunately." Her voice is a little wry on that last.
Ohkwa turns to Chanti once 'Chana's gone and says, "I took a walk while everyone was down doing their thing. There's more of those carved stones out in the woods. Looks like every fifty yards or so. They marked a perimeter for some reason. Couldn't read what they said, though."
Chanticleer frowns a little. "A perimeter. Around the town? Are we within it?"
Ohkwa nods, carefully tamping his pipe, "Ayeah. We're inside it far's I can tell. Don't seem to have guards or nothin' -- just the stones. And some-a them look like they've seen better days. But it's been laid out real careful."
Chanticleer chews his lip a bit. "Let's make sure the guards are alert. We should be all right if the town's protected, since we're within it as well." He doesn't give voice to the uncomfortable thought that the stones might be to keep something in. But that would make no sense. Ohkwa rumbles his agreement and saunters off to pass the word.
The girls have drifted off and Rattler is keeping his voice low, "I don't know that they're as poor as all that. Chanti handed off the take from the show. There's some steel and some copper and a fair whack of gold. Not a mite of silver, though. Mr. Malachai might be richer'n he seems. He certain had a passel of folks at his house. Doubt they were all just family."
Suraksha raises an interested eyebrow, "Really now? Interesting, about the take." She leans comfortably against Rattler, sipping her tea where they're cuddling on the porch, before she adds curiously, "Why don't you think they're all family? Malachai and Rachel seems to think they are...?"
Rattler thinks on that, trying to put it into words. "The way they treat him." He smirks a little, though she can't see it from her position, "Some of them had a definite feel of deferring to a boss rather than just a grandpa or uncle."
Suraksha nods slowly in agreement, "Yes, I got that feeling too, oddly enough. It felt more like they were deferring to a very respected elder to me, though? Like the village big-man, you know?"
Rattler nods and mmms, "That's what I mean. I think some of them are servants rather than just family."
Suraksha frowns perplexedly at that, "Servants... hmm. I'd not exactly gotten that feeling, although to be fair I was mostly focused on Malachai." She sighs as she sets aside her teacup and relaxes into Rattler's arms. Her voice is a soft whisper in the darkness as she murmurs, "Ready for bed, sweetheart? Hope you don't mind just cuddling."
Rattler murmurs, "Not a bit, cherie. It's been a long day for us all."
Chanticleer walks with the guards and dogs, alert and concerned, but not overly so; it feels like it will be all right. He expects there will probably be some sort of minor excitement this evening, but the perimeter of stones will probably keep them safe. He won't rely solely on them, of course -- best not to be too complacent -- but he does feel a little more comfortable drawing in the watch screen a little, even though it is unsettling to him that the town is within the perimeter.
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