Well, hello there. My name is Auvana, but feel free to call me Auva, if you wish. I am Madame Sontaire's assistant, dealing with numbers and bookings as she prepares her establishment for changes. Let me know if you need anything.
I have never been a good example of when it is or isn’t appropriate to drown sorrows in someone else, and as wonderful as a moment of solace in the gardens with you would be, I’m going to have to implore that you ask me another time. For fun, not for distracting.
No, I... I know. It's not a good time. I need to get back to work. [She looks down at their hands, breaks their grip, and turns to walk off without another word.]
She wakes up next to a Nord she's never met before a few hours earlier, roused by his snoring. He's reasonably attractive, with dark hair and dark eyes and fine muscles, but the moon is still up. This room isn't hers. It's the Bee and Barb, and she's paid for the room herself, but now all she feels is sick.
Careful not to disturb her bedfellow, she swings her legs over the side of the bed slowly, conscious of her own nakedness as the chilly air bites at her skin, and bends forth with her elbows on her knees, and her face in her hands.
Her whole life is crumbling around her. Everything that seemed to make her who she is, coming to an end. She never got into this work for the glamour, no, this was her life from the beginning, and even before that she was insignificant.
She glances back at the man.
This is the only thing that's ever made her significant, even if each stranger takes a part of herself with them. When she had her arms wound about his neck, legs at either side, faking pleasure as his was genuine, there was something comforting about it all, a familiar misery that she would rather not lose. As her fingers wound through his hair -- it was tangled, and a bit sweaty -- she misses Kalanar's soft hair and how he touched her, that time.
But that is a luxury she feels she doesn't deserve, can't afford, and she is a bull in a china shop. Ruinous. Yes, this is the familiar company she'd rather keep -- different each night, mutually resentful or disinterested, aware that neither would see the other again after they part.
She misses him, though. He smells nice. He has gentle hands. Kind eyes. A dutiful bearing. It's everything she knows she doesn't deserve. She shouldn't keep talking to him. But, she wants to check in at least, soon, see how he's doing...
Being genuine is too frightening. Distance yourself. Remember that this, right here, is your reality. It's comfortable here.
Without a word, she clothes herself and arranges her hair once more in the small mirror that hangs on the wall, and leaves.
It's back to her new life, come morning. The most she can do is keep scraps of her old one, when she can.
I want to ask you to sleep with me. The gardens are clear, nobody's there, at the moment, and we could get away with it. But that's pathetic, isn't it? And you have to work.
[Before he parts, he grasps her hand. He’s not always the best at gauging when physical affection is welcome, but he wants to remind her that he’s present.]
I hope you’ll talk to someone if you feel so weighed down. If not to me, to someone.
How long have you known me, Auvana? I asked for a favor. You raised a hand to my friend; you’re not the only one who reacted emotionally. Maybe I’m nosy, but I want to know that everything’s okay. You’re more than capable of handling yourself, and you don’t need anyone to remind you of that, but in short — it was upsetting. I want to see that my friends aren’t hurt, including you. That is the point of this.
I’ll get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.
No, I mean, why are you here, talking to me, and not... doing work? What is the point of this?
I don't need instruction. I don't need to be told when I've been wrong, or why I should apologize. I'm not a child, Auranel. I don't need an appointment arranged so Eva and I can kiss and make up.
I already know that I've made a mistake. It just happened. The back of my hand still burns.
Oh, dear. [Aura offers a commiserating chuckle, touching her briefly on the arm.] Well, I do hope Sontaire is only the first step on Auvana’s Apology Tour. Evangeline is a dear friend of mine, and I’m certain she’ll return the sentiment, especially when tensions have been running high around here. It upset me to see her struck.
She may not have worked this job, and hasn’t seen what some of us have seen, but Evangeline is a good woman, and whatever criticism she thought to offer came from a good and worthy place. If you won’t apologize for her, or for you, then do it for me.
I only caught the tail end of that exchange. [He holds open the door for her.] What could possibly drive you to raise a hand to someone? To an employee?
[She walks out the door, already feeling sick to her stomach. She describes the situation as plainly as possible.]
I was taking numbers, and frustrated with the progress -- or lack thereof -- being made with waiting tables. Practicing, you know. We aren't there yet. I made a comment to myself. I suppose she overheard, and approached me about it, asking me who I was to criticize. I told her, and asked her the same. She... told me how everyone was stressed. I know. I know everyone is stressed. She never worked this job, she's a maid, and she told me... anyway.
I got testy, because I don't appreciate being lectured. She snapped back. I ignored her, and she... ah, she slapped the writing board I had up, like -- [She makes the gesture as best she can] -- this, and the ink ruined... all of the numbers I had taken. Everything. All of my work since this morning, gone. And it -- I can't describe it, but the sound it made, and how quickly it happened, it... frightened me, and so I... slapped her.
I'm not going to make any excuses. Sontaire is going to hear from me, shortly.
I know. I know, it’s okay. [Everyone does one of two things after they’ve hit someone; they apologize or they threaten. Pegasai just wants to keep himself safe.] You wouldn’t. You didn’t mean it.
No, don't talk to me like that, please. I did mean it. I was angry. I was angry because she didn't understand, and because I had been working on that for so long, and because she had the audacity to confront me as if... as if she understood. I wouldn't hit any of you, that's a promise. You've done nothing wrong.
I accept whatever consequences come to me because of this. You shouldn't excuse my actions.
Yes. Yes, I'll step out with you. Just... just one moment. [She asks an employee politely to see if she can catch up with the current numbers; once she's obliged, Auvana meets Aura's side.]
No, Pegasai, please, I would never hit any of you, I'm sorry, I... I'm going to bring up with incident with Sontaire. I'm sure I'll get quite an earful from her. [She's clearly upset with herself, at this point.]
[Eva staggers, white lights flashing behind her eyes as she backs into a wall. She can taste blood where her lip is split, and she touches it with a pair of trembling fingers. She stares at the smear on her skin, and up to Auvana. Her brow furrows. Without a word, she turns and leaves the building. She slams the door behind her, and doesn’t look back.]
[She retracts her hand close to her chest, holding her wrist as Eva leaves. Her brow is furrowed, and tears sting in her eyes. Angry at herself for being so emotional, and too revealing, she feels the anxiety welling up. She wants to cry, her lip even quivers, but somehow she manages to breathe, just breathe, and keep any more weakness from leaking out.
Her expression becomes cold. Her tone is even again, gaze calm. She addresses the employees, who are stunned and worried for all involved, with an equally cool tone.]
I'm sorry for the trouble, everyone. Please, keep practicing. I'm going to my quarters. [And she does.]
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