| Logs |
2012 January 05
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Taps Logs |
Darts of Pleasure
Sulochana and Fantine have several of the caravan's moms and their children scampering and skipping along with them, as well as Rohana and Rishima. The Hetaera quietly arranges with Fantine and the others so her girls will be covered, attention-wise, for any needs they may have during the day. The girls are used to their mother occasionally having to play the Hetaera, so they're thrilled at the opportunity to spend all day with some of their best friends.
Chanticleer is wearing comfortable, nice party clothing -- a grey silk tunic embroidered in a feather pattern and belted with a velour cord, snug breeches of black silk, sandals, and a brass circlet for his hair: comfortable, yet stylish. He walks with Suraksha and the others of the caravan, looking around as they approach the main street, where most of the townies seem to be. Rachel glances sideways at Chanticleer as they get closer to town. The blouse and makeup make her stand out from the townies and she wears them well, though by the paleness of the skin at her throat and chest, she doesn't often wear anything that shows cleavage.
Chanticleer lets his concerns be hidden behind a mask of cheerful joviality -- not his best skill, but one he learned in the courts -- where it was often a case where one had to look like they were enjoying one's self or risk gravely insulting the host, with all the unpleasantness that transpired. He's wondering when the werewolves will make them the offer they can't refuse -- but for now he's only asked the guards to be on their usual alertness; that's normal in a situation like this.
'Chana grins at Rachel's wide-eyed, surreptitious, and yet also completely obvious fascination with Chanticleer -- she thinks it's adorable! To the sidhe she says, "So, have you played any games like those before, Chanti?" She waves towards the game pavilions.
Chanticleer smiles quietly to Rachel; he dislikes being so tense, but until he has some idea of what the werewolves are planning, he'd best simply go with things -- and enjoy the moment. "Not many times, no. In fact some I don't recognize."
Rachel's eyes brighten, "Come play, then! I'm sure the prizes aren't all that exciting for folk that have been all over, but they're fun."
The Hetaera considers -- should she leave Rachel and Chanti alone to play? Hmm... perhaps in a bit. For now, she's guessing she'll be easier for Malachai to find and notice if she's with his favorite (maybe?) great-granddaughter. Plus, for some reason Chanticleer is quite tense. 'Chana would like to calm him down a bit if she can. She glances around, notices the kids have been carefully herded off by the young caravaneers, and nods -- they know the drill; excellent. 'Chana grabs one of Chanti's hands and grins over at Rachel, "Sounds good! You grab his other hand, and we'll play some games, all right?"
Chanticleer blinks in surprise as both Sulochana and Rachel grab him, then laughs, relaxing a little and putting up only playful mock-resistance. "Here, now, you've overwhelmed me before I was able to put up a fight!"
Rachel flushes, but does reach out for Chanticleer's hand. She gives him one of the close-lipped smiles that seems the common way of smiling amongst the townies, "It's not always bad to be overwhelmed. Sometimes it's quite fun."
The Hetaera giggles, waggling her eyebrows knowingly at Rachel, "That's the goal, isn't it?" She grins as she studies the pavilions, then heads for one that seems to be about throwing things. Maybe it'll be like flipping a dagger? That, she's good at. She grins over her shoulder at the sidhe and the girl, adding, "Let's do this one first and then you two can pick the next one, yes?"
The booth 'Chana heads toward turns out to be throwing darts; unlike the ones sometimes seen in pubs and alehouses along the caravan's route, these look like they might actually be weapons. The prizes that are set out are intricately carved figures of animals. None of them are predatory animals. Sulochana studies the little carvings in fascination, checking to see how well they're made, as well as which she likes best. She smiles at the booth's manager, "Did you do these?"
The person manning the booth looks much more like the hundred years that Rachel has told Malachai claims. A seamed and sun-baked face peers out at them from beneath a broad-brimmed black wool hat. He chuckles and shakes his head, holding up his hands, "Oh, nonono. My hands don't work so well now. These are made by Adam, the carter's apprentice." Most of the little animals are quite well done and touched here and there with paint, just enough to give them a little life. The old man's hands are gnarled and knotted with age and the veins show prominently along the back. Rachel smiles and says, "And this is 'Thuse. He's our true elder."
Sulochana tilts her head curiously, "Thuse? As in Methuselah?" She dimples charmingly as she curtseys to the old-seeming man, "Pleasure to meet you, good sir!" Chanticleer is impressed with the quality of the carvings... as well as the darts. These aren't typical carnival darts -- half-blunt, half-rigged, and barely able to go through paper -- these are weapons. He's seen a few like them after they sailed through the Court's back-corridors. He focuses more on the carved animals for the moment, though.
'Thuse laughs -- a surprisingly hearty sound -- and says, "Exactly like that, yes." He inclines his head and watches Chanticleer examining the darts and the animals for a moment before turning his attention to the two young women, "I 'spect most of these will get won by young swains trying to show off for their young ladies. At least, that was how it was when I was young."
Sulochana grins with teasing rue at the man, "Alas, I am currently swain-less. Umm... would it be all right if I tried to win one for myself?"
'Thuse chuckles and shakes his head, "Oh, I hear different than that, but you're welcome to try for yourself." There is an adorable little rabbit carved out of some pale wood with pink touches at nose and inner ears.
Sulochana gives 'Thuse a startled look, "Wha- oh!" She laughs, then grins, "You mean my being a Hetaera? I was referring more to Malachai not being here right this moment." Her golden eyes twinkle as she holds up the cute little rabbit, "How would I go about trying to win this one, if I may?"
'Thuse shows her how the animals are grouped into points needed to win them. The rabbit is mid-range and requires 150 points to win on the circular targets. The bullseye is small, perhaps 3/4" across, and at least ten feet back. Sulochana nods at that information, a small and thoughtful frown on her full lips... then she smiles and picks up a dart, "I just have to hit the bullseye then? Or I have to hit it more than once?" She rolls the dart lightly between her fingers as she speaks, getting a feel for how it's weighted. Heavier than the long, needle-thin piercing darts Sna'tha favors, but relatively well balanced... she's pretty sure this should be easy, considering how thoroughly and fiercely both Corbett and her godsmother trained her in throwing daggers.
'Thuse says, "Bullseye's worth a hundred points. So you'd have to hit it more than once to get the bunny." He points out the different rings. None of them are more than an inch and a half across, and the widest ring is only worth five points.
Sulochana's dark-lashed eyes widen a bit, "Goodness! You don't make this easy!" She grins, "Do we get three chances for... what? What's the trade?" Chanticleer inwardly chuckles. The gentleman does not really know Sulochana's skill. Still, it's interesting that he's using such solid darts. This means something, but the sidhe is not sure what yet.
Rachel grins and says, "You get three tries just to have them. You can also win tokens to trade in. Money isn't much in use here and we think everyone should have a fair chance to play as much as they really want."
The Hetaera laughs delightedly, "What a lovely idea!" She bounces lightly on her bare toes a few times, which does nice things for her decolletage too, then grins, her eyes shining with excitement as she balances a dart in her fingers. A breath of hesitation to aim, and then she throws it firmly and directly into the target. The first dart hits the target, quivering on the edge, but inside the bullseye mark.
'Thuse smiles as widely as he can without showing his teeth, "Lovely!" As everyone's looking at the dart, 'Chana quietly picks up two more. Sna'tha's training, after all, is to always be ready with the next weapon before folks have recovered from the first throw. She hmms thoughtfully -- off-center. Clearly she's letting her excitement get the better of her. She takes a deep breath, calming and centering herself as she waits to see if the man will retrieve the dart, or let her throw all three first.
Rachel leans her head toward Chanticleer and murmurs, "The games aren't all this challenging. That wouldn't be fair. It will be mostly the pack that wins at this one."
Chanticleer nods a little to Rachel. "How do you mean, 'the pack'?" he asks curiously. 'Thuse retrieves the dart and makes a mark with chalk on a slate by the targets. It's similar to the runic designs they've seen everywhere.
Rachel says, "The ones that can change. There aren't so many of them as the stories say there used to be, but they've got a lot of advantages. They don't get sick as often. They're stronger. Faster. Better sight and hearing and sense of smell." Sulochana listens interestedly to that, then glances down at the little wooden bunny. Hmm... should she fake not being that good? She has a sudden vision of 'Hana playing with the rabbit, and her heart melts a little inside. For her girls, she'll win this. If she can. She draws another deep breath, then narrows her eyes at the target. Swift toss -- soft thuck!
Chanticleer ohs! quietly. He finds Rachel's words a curious revelation. "So each game is generally balanced towards the pack and the... people who aren't of the pack?"
Sulochana frowns at a sudden thought, "Wait. You mean if you can't change, you're not pack? That hardly seems fair... ?"
Rachel nods and smiles, eyes bright, "Exactly! Though we're all really a pack. We're all family. It's just easier to say 'the pack' or 'the wolves' for those that can shift their shape."
Sulochana studies the taller woman with a hint of perplexity in her regard, "Do the wolves consider you pack? Or are they elitist about it?"
Rachel shakes her head, "I'm not sure what that word means, but they don't lord it over us. They figure it's their duty to be strong." She adds, "They are blessed, of course."
'Chana's second dart has landed in the seventy-five point ring and 'Thuse chuckles. It's a happy sound, "You're pretty good at this, young'n." He makes another mark and retrieves the dart from the target.
'Chana squeaks excitedly at the score, bouncing on her toes again as she asks the older man, "Oh! So I won the bunny? Yay!" She grins and holds up the third dart, "Should I?" She's trying hard not to respond to Rachel's commentary, since a part of her wants to growl at anyone who excludes -- unwittingly or no -- based on something that they didn't persnally earn but were simply born with.
Chanticleer nods at Rachel's words, thinking on that. It reminds him of the Courts... specifically what he heard being said by those who had lived in the lower ranks of the courts since birth and whose family had occupied such positions for generations. "Is there much call for them to be strong? I mean, you folks seem to be fairly secure?"
Rachel tips her head and says, "They patrol at night. They hunt for us if the herds run low. They work harder than those that can't shift because they have the strength for it. They are blessed, and so they use that blessing for the betterment of the whole town." She wrinkles her brows, "Is that not how it works outside? The strong give more? Each to her own ability."
Chanticleer smiles quietly, thinking of how Noveau Baton Rouge was before Roy came into power. "Not always, I'm afraid."
'Thuse chuckles and says, "You won the bunny if that's all you want. You've got another throw. You don't have to take just one if you have more points. You can add prizes up to equal your points."
'Chana beams at 'Thuse, relaxing a little at Rachel's comment. She smiles at the young woman, "It depends, I guess. That's how it works in our caravan, though." She nods to 'Thuse, then considers the dart... then smiles and lays it down, "Tell you what, 'Thuse. Give this to someone who needs one more throw, please?" She picks up the little bunny and looks around, her eyes sparkling as she tucks it into her sash -- her girls are going to love the new toy! She'll sneak it to Fantine to give to them for a reward for being good during the day.
'Thuse's eyes, bright blue despite the gnarled hands, twinkle beneath the brim of his hat and the bush of his white eyebrows, "That is generous of you." He makes another couple of marks on the slate and turns to Chanticleer and Rachel, "Want to have a go, you two?"
Sulochana smiles sincerely at the old man, "Seems the least I can do, in thanks for your generosity. The town's as well as yours, I mean." She grins at Chanti, raising a curious eyebrow -- will he try?
Chanticleer's jaw works, though he smiles. Darts were never his strong point. But he doubts there'll be a jousting list here, and that'd be a bit too revealing of his nature, and his stag's! Instead he nods, "Certainly, I'll give a try!"
The first throw isn't quite as good as 'Chana's. Throwing daggers aren't his weapon of choice, but it's still excellent and sticks, quivering, in the 75 point ring. 'Chana claps, "Oh, well thrown, Chanti!"
Chanticleer smiles to Sulochana. "Not as good as yours, but I'll certainly take it!" He makes a note of the markings that 'Thuse makes on the board. If they're similar to the markings on the steles or stones lining the path, maybe he can pick up some of how to read them.
The mark that 'Thuse makes is the same as the second mark he made for 'Chana, so they're obviously numbers. He grabs the dart out of the target and steps out of the way for Chanti's next throw. Rachel claps for him and laughs, "That's good. Better than I could do. My weapon is a staff."
'Chana gives Rachel an interested look, "Weapon? Huh! Who do you fight?"
Rachel shakes her head and says, "I don't really fight. We don't have to for the most part. But we all know how to. I spar with the others that prefer the staff. Everyone learns some way to fight." She smiles affectionately at 'Thuse. "He used to be deadly with an axe, I'm told."
Chanticleer blinks to Rachael. "Really? That's interesting! Is there any game here that suits that skill?" He lines up his shot for the next throw, memorizing the mark, though he's not sure how to get '75' from it. He doesn't even know if it's base-ten numbering. After all, some old Court systems used base-eleven for weird and esoteric reasons... or maybe just to annoy people.
'Chana nods with respect to 'Thuse, "Not an easy weapon to use, I know."
'Thuse stretches out his hands, and it's easy to see that this wizened man might once have been quite large, going from the size of the arthritic fingers, "Have to be careful not to chop off your own fingers." Rachel takes a step back and looks along the street, eyes narrowed against the morning sun. She brightens and points to a booth. There's what looks very much like a sparring dummy and a rack of staves. "You try to hit all the targets. The prize will be based on how fast you do it."
'Chana grins and nods at the man, "We have an axe-man in the caravan. He says keeping the edge directed where you want it to go, rather than where its weight wants to take it, is an issue too." She smiles at Rachel's excitement, murmuring to the sidhe, "Well, we'll just have to make sure Rachel has a chance to shine too, yes?" She grins as Rachel steps back to them, adding, "Anything based on archery?"
Rachel nods and says, "That's a little further out, though. To give room. Because there are different skill levels. The little ones will shoot from close in, the adults from further out. The shifters from further still."
'Chana grins mischievously, "Well, then you should definitely take Chanti there, and ask him to win something pretty for you!" She giggles, gently nudging the sidhe, "Throw or fold, dear -- you can't hold the last two darts all day!" The second throw of the dart lands in the fifty point ring, which is a little wider than the 75. 'Thuse makes a mark on the slate, adding to the tally before grabbing the second dart. The darts themselves are made of well-forged bronze, so Chanti doesn't have to worry much about touching the tips. Chanticleer is inwardly grateful that the darts are bronze; he wonders if they've had to have made concessions to sidhe before, or if iron is just rare around here. He takes his third shot, trying to aim at least a little better.
The third dart lands in the fifty mark as well, and 'Thuse makes another mark on the slate. "Well done, young man. Well done." There is a cunningly carved little rooster in the 175 point area, and also a stag's head.
Chanticleer blinks, then laughs, even though only Sulochana might get it. Sometimes the universe is just coincidence. In this case he appreciates the "coincidence" of the stag and the rooster being in the same point-range at which he won. "Thank you, sir! Hmmm...." Obviously this would be a gift for Rachel; the rooster would be most appropriate. He asks 'Thuse politely if he may choose the rooster.
'Thuse chuckles and says, "Certainly, young man." The rooster is touched with red at its comb and with orange, red, and black in its tail. Rachel claps her hands excitedly, "Congratulations!"
'Chana laughs, also delighted, "Yes, well done, Chanti! It's a lovely little rooster." Her eyes are twinkling; she's "in" on the joke.
Chanticleer beams, bowing to 'Thuse, then with a bow and a flourish he presents the rooster to Rachel. He hopes when this is all over she'll have fond memories to associate with the little statue. Rachel's eyes light up and she takes the little creature in her palm, cheeks and throat flushing, "Why... why, thank you." She giggles a little and says, "I hope this doesn't mean you're getting cocky." She winces as soon as she makes the joke, blushing more deeply, "Oh, that was bad."
The Hetaera glances around, then grins at Chanti and Rachel, "So... shall we try the staff pavilion next, to see how Rachel does?"
Rachel takes a breath and then leans in quick -- quicker than most humans -- to kiss Chanti on the cheek as she tucks the little carving into a pouch at her waist. "Oh! I'd be happy to try."
Chanticleer can't help but laugh warmly. "Oh, it wasn't that horrible." He can't quickly think of a pun in reply, though -- or at least one that wouldn't get him mauled on the spot. "And you're very, very welcome! Yes, let's do so -- if you're willing, Rachel?" He blinks in surprise at the kiss -- he hadn't expected it -- and smiles a touch shyly to her, but not so shyly as to suggest he isn't quite, quite pleased at the kiss.
Sulochana's smile softens a bit as she watches Rachel; she thinks the young woman is incredibly sweet. She politely lets her gaze drift elsewhere while the two smile at each other, starting to saunter slowly towards the other pavilion as she waves a goodbye and calls thanks to 'Thuse. Rachel's teeth flash for just a bare instant in a grin. She also says goodbye to 'Thuse as she follows after 'Chana.
The staff pavilion has, as they saw, a sparring dummy out front. Under the canopy is a large, intricate clock with brass hands and large numbers. There are a couple of large buttons and a slate marked with names in the recognizable English alphabet and more of the runic-looking numbers. There's also a star next to one of the names. Sulochana studies the slate with interest, noting the starred name is "Ruth." She wonders who that is, glancing around at the happy people wandering around them, and smiles in spite of herself at how much laughing and chatting and friendly mingling is going on. This is a very nice break for the caravaneers, and 'Chana's very pleased to be a Hetaera here, in a sort of thanks to the man who made this happen.
Rachel peers at the slate and snorts, then blushes, realizing how unladylike the sound was. She blushes again and calls to the young woman running the booth, who marks Rachel's name down. 'Chana covers a giggle and hastily turns to check for any possible prizes laid out for review -- Rachel is so cute! The prizes laid out for the booth are suncatchers made of stained glass, grouped into finishing times. Besides those there are three larger pieces displayed on the back wall with the numbers 1, 2, and 3 beneath them. Apparently they are over-all prizes for the day. Sulochana raises an eyebrow at the stained glass, "Goodness, these are lovely!" She picks one up, studying it carefully and assessing it as potential sale goods.
Chanticleer can't help but be entranced by the suncatchers. They're truly gorgeous work! Then he glances at Rachal as she hikes up her skirts. Those are as well! He reins himself in, standing nevertheless admiringly as he watches Rachel. In the background music can be heard. There are people moving by on the street nearby and a couple have stopped to watch as Rachel tucks up her skirts -- almost as if she's girding herself for a real fight. It leaves her legs clear and she takes a deep breath before she starts moving.
The girl moves like she would be excellent in a fight, fluid and strong at the same time. The targets are made so they fold back when struck solidly -- and Rachel hits every one with a solid clack of wood against wood. The timer stops at thirty-seven seconds; there's some applause from around them. The girl behind the counter marks the slate with Rachel's name, but the star stays by Ruth's. Rachel scowls a little and mutters about coming back when she's more limber. 'Chana looks up and grins at that, calling to Rachel, "Well done! You know, if you want to limber up, Chanticleer is an excellent dancer?" She grins and winks mischievously at the sidhe.
The suncatchers range in skillfulness from a delicate and beautifully symmetrical sunflower to a clumsy and whimsical little abstract piece in blue and green. They would sell quite well to many types of people, quite likely. Chanticleer gently indicates the suncatchers to Sulochana. He's pretty sure they can't reliably sell them elsewhere; they'd be very hard-pressed to package and ship them securely and safely without them breaking. Sulochana adds to the girl behind the counter, "So who made these lovely little stained glass things, please?" Like Chanti, she's totting up numbers and possibilities in her head: likely to sell well, but will need very careful packing... if she can get them inexpensively, it might be worth it?
The girl behind the counter says, "Oh, a few people. Working with glass is good to teach you to delicate things, so the children start around eight years old. But these big ones were done by Elias."
Sulochana gives the girl a startled look, "You teach delicacy... with glasswork?! Fascinating." She thinks, but does not say, that it also sounds like a good way for kids to lose their fingers!
The girl, Hannah by introduction, says, "They aren't just thrown in. They don't cut it themselves to start with, but they learn to put it together."
'Chana nods thoughtfully, "That makes sense." She looks up at Chanti and Rachel and grins again, "You're still here? Shoo! Go dance!" She giggles, clearly teasing them.
As 'Chana is shooing the sidhe and girl off to dance, Malachai comes up to the booth. He glances at the slate and then at Rachel with a small smile, "I'd come back later with your trousers on. The skirt is lovely, but it will slow you down." 'Chana smiles fondly at that -- what a lovely way to encourage the girl!
Chanticleer does rather like the idea, and gallantly offers his arm to Rachel. "It seems we've been commanded to dance," he says with a grin.
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