Cat Is a Bundle of Surprises
Such a diverse place, with a diverse clientele. Case in point, Catriona, who sits by a window, smiling out of it. Pleasantly. On the table before her, wine and food. Untouched. Because all the small silver-haired woman does is smile out into the fall foliage, her hands folded docilely on her black velvet lap.
Alec opens the door to the Crown and glances around. Upon seeing Catriona, he tenses and looks about ready to turn back around and leave. He hesitates, though, and eventually makes his way toward where she sits. "And here I thought I'd broken this curse," he says, resting one hand on Catriona's table.
"And here I thought we'd called a temporary truce," Is Cat's response, drawn out of her revery by the man with the hand on her table. She smiles up at him. Madness, sure. It's there, as always. Happiness, too. "What have I done this time, all unawares?" she inquires, her own hand inviting him to the empty seat across from her.
Alec takes the offered seat. "It's hard to say how long a temporary thing is going to last with you," he says. "But you're right; you haven't done anything recently. Well, not that I'm aware of, at least. It's just that, yet again, I've recently been warned to stay away from you, and since I've heard this advice about one or two dozen times already, I'm thinking I probably should start to consider it." He examines her expression. "What has you looking so calm and pleasant today, anyway? Did you blow something interesting up?"
Cat's happy expression falls into something more akin to wryness. "I don't suppose you'll tell me who my accuser is this time?" There's a soft shake of her silver-gilt head, hair tumbling over her fragile-seeming shoulders with the motion. "Really. If I were half so bad as everyone seems to say I am, wouldn't I be in the dungeons by now? Or, dead?"
"One would hope," Alec says. He then sighs, flagging down a server for a beer. "So, what have you been up to recently?" He asks, ignoring her other question. "Did you ever talk to the person you were trying to reach?"
"If I tell you, I feel certain that no matter my answer, it will not stay with you," Cat points out, her chuckle a pretty one as she reaches for the glass of wine at her elbow. "You've got a bit of a reputation, too, you know." There's a sip, the glass and the red liquid covering her lower lip oh-so-briefly.
Alec raises an eyebrow. "The way you say it makes it sound like my reputation is on par with yours in scope and negativity," he says. "What reputation of mine are you even talking about, anyway?"
"Hardly. You haven't been around long enough to gain this kind of notoriety," Cat points out with a cheshire smile that's mostly private. "Just as I haven't been around long enough to gain the notoriety of some of the members of the Royal family. It's all Amber politics. Unpleasant, no? I've been away at the Bulwark lately, enjoying a moment or two of free time. Little more."
"That's almost a relief." Alec's beer comes, and he takes a drink from it. "I really want to believe that you were just taking a nice, relaxing stroll, but anytime I hear about you doing something, it seems like something bad happens soon after."
"And despite the infamy, Amber goes on," Cat points out, lifting her own crystal glass in salute. "But, I was infamous long before Chaos took hold. If you've been gossiping about me, you'll know that much already. Still, some things are greatly exaggerated and due mostly to the rampant jealousies of others. What have you been up to?"
"The only really interesting thing I've heard about you recently is that you're apparently dead," Alec says. "And... I've mostly been doing things in and around Arden, working on finally being qualified to be a ranger, those sorts of things."
"That is interesting," Cat allows, punctuated by another sip of her wine. "Factually inaccurate, but interesting. I died. That much is true. But I live, in the flesh and full of blood that might be spilled. Such is the power of Chaos and unspeakable acts, and not of my own choosing. I begged to be left for dead." And as if this subject was just as cheery as the next, she asks, "Have you met Julian yet?"
Alec leans forward slightly, looking interested. "Chaos brought you back to life? Did someone dunk you into the liquid stuff, or was it something else?" In regard to her question, he shakes his head. "Not yet, but I've heard things about him."
"If you want to know how it happened, you need to offer something in return," Cat says. "Tit for tat. I'll tell you, exactly, in as much detail as you like. But I want names of the people so intent on destroying my public character." She rolls her shoulder in a shrug. "And you're better off not meeting Julian. He's a dangerous one for his silence and sternness."
Alec thinks for a while. "It's tempting," he finally says. "However, I think I prefer my friends alive. As for Julian, I hang around his woods most of the day. I don't know how possible it will be to never meet the guy."
"If it helps, I don't plan on killing them," Cat offers with a snort of laughter. "It helps me to avoid them, in fact, to know who I can trust and who I cannot. Thus, politics in Amber." There's another light shrug and a sip of wine. A spoonful of soup is toyed with before being decided against. "As for Julian, it's very possible. It's a big woods. And he is the ultimate in stealth and hunting, second only to... your grandfather, as it happens."
Alec grimaces at the mention of his grandfather. "I shouldn't be surprised," he mutters. "Not only about the fact that he's a sneaky bastard, but also that our conversation once again has turned to him. I get the feeling you're a bit obsessed with the guy."
Cat's laughter is startled, but unfettered. "Yes. I suppose you might get that feeling. You seem to hold a great deal of bias when it comes to me, and to him. It's understandable." She finally decides to enjoy the spoonful of soup, now cold and probably less enjoyable.
"I have a lot more bias against him than you. I've told you my reasons for disliking the guy." Alec raises his beer to his lips. "Anyway, in spite of what I say, I feel there's still some hope for you to change."
"And of course the best way to inspire me to change is to insult me at every pass," Cat murmurs politely, replacing her spoon into the bowl almost daintily. "Very Amber. You're adapting fast. Maybe you'll fare better against Julian than one would think."
Alec snorts, setting down his beer. "To be fair, insults are the closest thing to a defense I have in this place. Anyway, the number of times I've nearly been killed while in your presence vastly outnumbers how many times I've nearly been killed when you've been nowhere around." He thinks for a moment. "Actually, I can only think one time I was nearly killed where you weren't involved in some way or another."
"I can only think of one time you've actually nearly been killed when you were with me," Cat points out, arching a silvery brow. "Unless madness is affecting my memory more than usual. Though I have since come to find out that what you and I experienced at the lake of Chaos was nothing compared to what it is capable of. So, you were never truly in danger at that point."
"It damaged my mind, though," Alec says. "And you say I wasn't in danger, but the fact that what we experienced was just the tip of the iceburg just proves how much danger you really put me in." He pauses and adds, "Also, I count the time you introduced me to Corwin."
"There was no danger," Cat replies with a light laugh. "Corwin wouldn't have attacked you with me there. And as for the Chaos, it didn't permanently damage your mind. It was unpleasant, certainly. But you were never in true danger. And couldn't have been, with only me there. Potential danger is not true danger. But now we're just arguing semantics."
Alec shrugs. "You seem to live a risky life, especially if you've apparently died before. However, you're still sitting here alive and well, maybe even better off than I am. I'd say our definitions of danger are probably vastly different from each other's."
"Maybe you're in no real danger because I'm here," Cat points out. "And I'm become quite good at circumventing final death? There's always that possibility, if you spin your theory sideways. Just as plausible."
Alec gives her a skeptical look. "I doubt that, but you're welcome to think it." He sighs and leans back in his seat. "You know, I get the feeling that we run into each other whenever there's something that you need that I can help you with. I can't tell if that's part of whatever twist of fate keeps us running into each other, or if you just happen to constantly have some task that needs doing or some bit of information that you're hoping (probably rightfully) that I'll just stupidly blab to you."
Cat smiles, shrugs. "I don't much believe in fate, to be honest. I've seen far too many things happen because of people, rather than some mystic force in the universe. Amber is a small place. People are bound to run into each other with some frequency while there. And I've been here far too often of late, which probably explains it. Besides, if it were fated for that to happen, you would have told me. And you haven't. So I think you're safe, no?"
"I feel like there are too many mystic forces in the universe to rule out so quickly that one or more of them isn't messing around with people's lives," Alec says. "After all, something brought me here from the shadow I was born and raised in. Anyway, I might have already said whatever it is you needed. I don't usually figure out what you need until you're already using it against me."
Cat looks confused momentarily. "Using it against you? Have I done that? I can't quite recall. Being Caine-" She stops, chuckles. "My apologies. Being *someone's* grandson? Or was there something else you've told me that you think I've used against you?"
"There was the time that you tested the full limits of my hatred toward Caine," Alec says. "It was a good moment. I really felt like we bonded while we shared stories about how much of a monster he is. And then right after that, you bring me on a trip where you ask me to throw a dead copy of Caine into that Chaos lake. You were testing me when you had me talk about how much I hated the guy, and used that to make sure I'd be more likely to do what you wanted."
Cat stares for a moment, and then blinks. "That's an impressive assumption. I guess I could see how you might draw the conclusion, though." She gives a shake of her head. "I have no times for games like those, Alec. I really don't. I brought you because you'd come before, and knew the drill. That the object happened to be different was a byproduct of experimentation. That it was you happened to be because others were busy, and perhaps a touch of my own masochism."
Alec sighs and gives a shake of his head. "I can believe the masochism part. The rest I'm hesitant about because too much fits together too well for it to be anything else." He downs the rest of his beer.
"You were there because it was convenient," Cat says. "Anything else is paranoia. Not that I blame you," she commiserates. "This place is rife with people holding knives behind their backs."
Alec nods. "I've been getting that general feeling... I went to my dad for some love advice, and by the time we finished talking, I started to get the feeling it would be safer to wrestle an alligator than try to romantically pursue anyone in Amber." He grimaces. "I feel like Amber is the reason people have two kidneys: so people can afford to be stabbed in one and not just immediately die."
"In Amber you could probably be stabbed in both and not die," Cat interjects with a low, wry chuckle. "If you have the right friends, and the wrong enemies. But it's not a bad feeling. This place breeds politics and chaos help you if you get in the way of them."
"True," Alec agrees. "It seems like the people here are sturdier than the ones where I was raised... As for the politics, I'm more than happy to avoid them, but I'm not sure they're so willing to avoid me."
"They will, if you don't want or desire anything at all," Cat says, reaching for her wine glass once more. "If you have no ambitions, no romantic entanglements, and live as a monk. Then, you can probably avoid them. I tried my hand at a convent in Lyonesse once."
"I have few ambitions outside of just learning things. The romantic entanglements issue, unfortunately, shouldn't be a problem. And then at this rate, I'm probably going to spend all my time in Arden taking care of trees. That's probably as close to living as a monk as I can get. Yet I feel I still won't be able to avoid the politics." Alec sighs.
--[ Damascus ]------------------------------------------------[ idle 20s ]----
Before you is a well-built fellow, of swarthy skin tone and subtle intensity. Rusty brown eyes, flecked incongruously with brilliant silver and tiny dots of copper, gaze out of a face in the prime of life. Crow's feet show around those eyes though, from wind and weather and squinting at the horizon, perhaps. Around the right eye socket, tanuki script has been inked in black and gold, into his skin in the shape of a crescent moon. The rests of his facial features look to be of tanus ancestry, with a strong, long nose, high cheekbones and an equally long jaw. His lips are expressive and thick, framed by a neat goatee and moustache as black as soot, matching thick, neat shoulder length hair that has but a slight peppering of silver at the temples, bangs touching down to frame his eyes and tickle at sideburns. He's on the tall side, with a swimmer's build, long of limb.
He is currently dressed in corsair attire - a loose tunic of rich blue fabric over a white shirt of flowing silk is tied by a azure sash that acts as a belt, from which hang prayer beads, a khopesh blade a spyglass and some small purses of elegant leatherwork. His legs are covered by loose pantaloons of black fabric, buttoned in a cuff just above supple calf boots that look comfortable. Silver piping and scrollwork in tanuki sanscrit form designs along the hems of tunic and as a median point to his belt sash. A caul of soft black leather sits on his shoulders, the hood peaked with a single silver tassle.
-----------------------------------------[ male no-chatter trouble-yay/5 ]----
"If you bury yourself in Arden and avoid alliances within it," Cat replies, "then you'll probably avoid the politics. You might even win Julian's regard. He doesn't seem like one who is overly fond of politics, from the few times I've met him." Catriona and Alec are seated at a table by the window, he with a beer, and she with a glass of wine and a bowl of now-cold soup.
Damascus makes his way into the Crown and Rose, looking windswept and fresh of face, perhaps even burned by sun and sea. A bookbag over his shoulder seems to bulge though, with whatever is within. Glancing around, he gives a polite incline of the head with hands brought together almost as in prayer, lips in an easy and serene smile, then heads to the bar to place a food order.
"Much as I like the thought of that, it's no fun staying in Arden all the time. When someone mentioned I might have to, I almost gave up on my ranger training." Alec looks over as Damascus enters. He brings his beer to his lips, and then remembering too late that it's empty, sets it down again and signals to a server for another. "And I get the feeling earning any sort of attention from Julian might do more harm than good politically. After all, isn't he a prince?"
"He is a prince, but as they go, he's probably the one who is least politically inclined. Haven't you seen him at the courts in the palace?" Cat asks Alec, after a thoughtful sip from her glass of red wine. "He's the one most like to silent, to rarely be involved in his brother's and sister's schemes." Her eyes, too, travel over to Damascus with curiosity, and linger.
"Thank you, most fully, my friend," said to the barman, Damascus takes a fine glass of wine and himself to a seat nearby Catriona and Alec's table, seating himself with a certain air of refinement to sip. "A fair evening to both of you, most excellent fellows."
"No, I avoid the palace at all costs," Alec answers. "So I wouldn't know." He looks toward Damascus as he sits near them and nods in return to the greeting. "Good evening," he says.
"Fair enough," Catriona allows to Damascus with a curve of her lips. "Though I don't know that I'd go so far as good. New to Amber?" she asks, her interest clearly piqued by the scrollwork ink on his face. "Or an old friend looking to get re-acquainted?"
"Aah, old and seasoned, well preserved and salted by many travels," Damascus replies with that easy smile returning to his lips, teeth white as white in the swarthy face of his. "But recently returned from the depths this time, aye. My love affair with the finest city, is a turbulent one." He inclines his head with a spread of one hand, the wine lifted in a wordless toast to Amber. "Did I hear right, that you avoid the palace? I cannot blame you there, tis a place of endless troubles, but there is much history and a fine collection of fancies there. It almost makes it worth it, every now and again."
Alec nods. "You heard right. I don't go to the palace. I do have friends there, and when I first arrived, I went a few times and it was nice. But there's people I'm trying to avoid. I'm not sure what my odds are for running into them there, but I also don't want to find out."
"There's people you're trying to avoid other than me?" Cat offers to Alec, a laugh in her tone. "I'm equal parts offended and relieved." She turns back to Damascus. "Welcome back to the city, then. Perhaps you will find it much changed."
"Aah, a tragedy and a travesty, to be deprived because of avoidance," Damascus bemoans that loss, giving it a fair due with a bowed chin, looking with a light in his eyes to Catriona at her welcome. "Sadly, I have found that to be the case, over and over, since my return. THings that never would have happened five hundred years ago, now are as they are. It is a sign of the times -" and he gives that elegant bow of the head again, spreading a hand upon his chest "Forgive this one his rudeness, I am Captain Damascus of Chantris and Tanus. The former has claimed so much of my time of late, I have once more become a recluse."
Alec snorts at Cat's comment. "Well, yeah. You know I'm not exactly going around trying to get hugs from Caine." He looks toward Damascus. "I'd honestly say it's worth it. There's not much in the palace for me anyway. And well met. I'm Alec."
"My god. It's like you're obsessed with him," Cat replies dryly to Alec, tossing in a green-eyed wink for good measure. Her regard returns to Damascus, and she tips her silvery head to him. "Catriona. I'm a fan of Chantris. I've not heard much stirring out of Tanus lately. You're a rarity in these parts, Captain."
"Truly," Damascus agrees, lifting his wine, a single word that encapsulates words reflected on him and those directed toward Alec. "A pleasure, Alec... and to you also Catriona." He ventures to pause over the names, rolling them through his tongue with the slight purr of tanuki accent upon the words, practically cultured out of him. "I would wager it is hard to come across a very busy man, in a vast place, by accident. I am sure that princes, like most any ruler, has better things to do than stumble upon us lowly ones. It is like avoiding the palaces of Tanus, for the risk of running into the maharaja." He chuckles softly, resting his wine upon the table lightly. "But perhaps, fate and fortune weave you a strange kismet, my friend."
Alec turns his gaze toward Catriona at the mention of fate. "They do," he mutters before glancing back to Damascus. "But who knows? Maybe my fate with Caine is for us to never meet. That would be ideal. After all, he apparently was in Arden just recently and I didn't see him once. And can you blame me for being a little obsessed?" He says, this last comment directed to Cat. "The guy's an asshole. I'm not just going to forgive and forget everything he's done. And if that means I dwell on him a little more than normal, then so be it."
Cat listens to both men with an attentive ear, sipping her wine at leisure with nary a raising of brows. "I wonder why he was in Arden," she muses. "What's Julian up to that needs Regency supervision?" Then her gaze strays back to Damascus. "Your pardon, Captain. Politics. It's everywhere."
Damascus chuckles at that begging of pardon. "Indeed, it is so. None more so than on the deck of a ship. In such places there is a microcosm of favour and social mores and norms, a place where the Captain is king... and that is as far as my politics like to stretch." He laughs lightly, sipping of his wine again as small triangles in dough are brought to his table, with a green sauce that smells minty all over the top in a drizzle and he sighs pleased. "Aaah, they remembered my recipe! Please, friends... try one if you wish." He indicates the plate of samosa with an open palm. "It sounds to me as if the regent has done you ill personally, but there is paradox there, friend Alec. For if you have never met him, for whom do you bear such ill will? Are you a champion of the wronged?" He asks with a lofted eyebrow. "Ever is it that older brothers see fit to interfere, however lightly in the affairs of younger. Such has it always been, such will it always be, no matter that they are vaunted and highborn. Perhaps that is your answer, Catriona."
Alec grimaces. "You aren't the first person who's said that," he mutters. "But the reason I hate him is because he hurt someone I deeply care about." He takes one of the offered dough triangles, giving a quick nod in gratitude, but doesn't yet take a bite. "And honestly, I don't need to meet the guy to know I won't like him. I've yet to hear a single good thing about him. Even when people try to tell me about supposed positive impacts Caine's had, they all turn out to be negative in the end." He takes a bite.
"Caine is his grandfather," Cat informs Damascus, to clear up any confusion at the table. "And Caine has an odd habit of collecting other people's pain to use for his own ends." She shrugs, clearly not empathetic on this particular point. "He's chaotic, as I am, which probably explains a great deal. Or none at all, depending on how much you know about Chaos."
Damascus keeps his tongue to himself at the explanations offered, merely absorbing it like a sponge, wine sipped again, then a fork taken up to delicately cut one of the samosas for consumption. "THe villain of the piece is often black of heart and deed," he muses softly, enjoying the mix of spiced vegetables and minted yoghurt in combination. "I wonder if this is as it now will ever be. Once, chaos had a far place in the doings of Amber. Now, it is every day. Perhaps, it is as it should be now."
Alec glares at Cat when she announces his tie to Caine. He finishes the bit of food he'd gotten to try and then licks his fingers. "You know, chaos doesn't have to be an everyday thing in Amber," Alec insists. "It's just that the people who can do something about it all seem content to leave Chaos-tainted people in the castle. And if I could do something to remove them from power, I would've by now."
Cat rolls her slender shoulders in a shrug. "Chaos is just another side of the coin. Were it completely gone, you would face extinction the same way we do now. There must be a balance. When one side or the other tips, Amber falls." She reaches out for a samosa with delicate fingers. "Are we villains? Or are we simply a different player in the game?"
Damascus tilts his head in ponderance of that, dips his finger into his wine and draws one of the symbols of holy orders in Tanus upon the wood of the table; the tryptich of the powers - Vishnu, Kali and Shiva, in balance. "This is a concept known by my grandfather's courts. Still, we suffer for it, for the road is in Tanus also. Always I have noticed chaos," tapping Kali "order" tapping Shiva "and the tapestry weaver" tapping Vishnu. "It goes forever, in and out of life. This is Kismet. A different power, yes, always there. The thugi follow the teachings of destruction, but shiva is the destroyer. We know, death lies both ways, thus the tapestry is woven." He settles back, taking another samosa in hand. "I think that the issue is more that those touched by each of the triad tend to be coloured by their power. Shiva destroys by purifying in salt and ashes, ending life by sterilizing it. Kali destroys by slaughter and warfare, taking the spirit and filling it with anger and violence and bloodshed. Balance within the person, their own karma, is hard for those touched."
Alec listens to Damascus' explanation. "I...understand bits of that," he says slowly. "And chaos may be a necessary evil, yes," he continues. "However, it and Order both try to get the upper hand over each other. Things would be fine if they'd just keep the balance, but they're not willing to do that. And that's why Caine and Corwin can't be trusted in their seats of power." Alec slumps back into his seat and looks toward Cat. "I think you're right. I just need to live the rest of my life in Arden... Then I can avoid all this nonsense and just hope that those in the city know enough about what they're doing to keep existence from being destroyed."
Cat actually looks upon Alec with sympathy. "If we acted out of character to keep the balance, the balance would no longer be kept. There is a place in Arden, one to be given to me by my deceased betrothed, one Taran Solaris. A small town, now mostly deserted. If it is your interest, you may speak to the Chantris or the Solaris and see about holding it in trust."
"The place," she adds, "is called Devonsbridge."
Damascus smiles faintly at this, no answers available from him, regarding the cosmic balance as it applies to here. He remains silent as he eats, for Catriona is offering something profound there and meaningful, it would be rude to interrupt it.
Alec tenses, his expression looking as though he's calculating exactly how this offer might be a trap of some sort. "Devonsbridge?" he repeats. "I...guess I can talk to my step mom about it, then. But... why?"
"Because I cannot bear it. And you did try, for me, with the Feldanes. If that is as close as I get to absolution, then you helped," Catriona says in reply, simply. "I cannot guarantee they will give it to you. But if you want something in Arden to keep you busy and from the politics of Amber, then I offer you the name. It's little enough, when you get right down to it."
Damascus continues his vigil of silence, though he does mouth 'tea' at a server, now that his samosas and wine are done.
Alec blinks in surprise at Cat's offer, and he stares at her silently for a moment. "Ah. Uh, thanks," he says. "I guess I'll send a bird to my step mom and let her know I want to talk about this Devonsbridge place. Er, it's not in Deep Arden, though, is it?"
"No," Cat shakes her head from the table she and Alec occupy, with Damascus sitting near by. "It's on the fringes of Arden, rather, between Amber and Arden, though more out of the way of Amber." She dips her head, setting aside her wine glass. "I wish you well of it. And you, Captain," her chin dips once more, this time in Damascus's direction. "Thank you for your perspective. It is unique. I hope you will come and see me sometime, if you find a spare moment. I can be found at the docks, aboard the Wandering Duchess." She rises, intent on making for the door.
Damascus bows his head with a highly polite angle, a care given to bringing his hands together in that 'prayer' position once again. "You do this humble Captain honour, most excellent Catriona. I can be found upon the Varuna, similarly at the docks, if I am not at Chantris. Perhaps a debate in comfort, can give further perspective upon a crisis." He even rises from his chair as she and perhaps others, make to depart, but shows no sign of scurrying off himself just yet. After all, there is tea to be enjoyed.
Alec nods to Cat's answer and directions, still looking a bit stunned even as Catriona starts to depart. "Er, uh, thanks," he says. "I guess I'll see you later, then?"
"I would be honoured," Cat replies to Damascus, and then cuts a glance aside to Alec. Her lips curve in a wry smile. "Don't you always seem to?" She dips her silver pale head and then moves off to the exit.
Damascus settles himself to his seat again at the departure, drawing eyes back from the door to Alec in his dumbfounded state. "People work in mysterious ways, more frequently than anything divine, my friend. Perhaps moments of clarity should be taken for what they are." He offers this, settling back as tea, with cinnamon and sweetened milk, is brought.
Atesia enters the Crown and Rose, looking a bit winded. And a little sweaty, too. Her profound revelation comes when she finds a seat at a table, flopping into the seat and practically melting into it. Her profound revelation regarding her state is simple. "Bleh." She sighs, letting her head sink back against the back of the chair.
"I'm starting to notice that," Alec says with a nod to Damascus' words. "Catriona especially... There's no reading her..." He waves down a server and requests paper and something to write with. When this is brought to him, a brown-feathered swallow darts in through an open window, giving an elegant swoop of the room before perching on Alec's table. He looks over at Atesia at her profound announcement and then shoots a quick, guilty glance at the tiny bird now occupying Cat's side of the table. Still, he greets her with a quick wave before he gets to writing.
Damascus laughs softly, watching a vision in brown collapsing into a seat with such breathlessness that his eyes once more catch the light and dance with an inner mystery, amusement shadowed by a calm demeanor. "Quite so, miss," he offers toward her, calling "Water, please," to the waitress with a subtle indication of the girl in question. Hot and breathless requires a drink, no? Oblivious to the reason for Alec's guilt, he watches the bird a moment, then the young man after it. "Perhaps you are not reading her with the right set of eyes."
Atesia looks up, noticing Alec, and offers him a wave. Of course she sees the bird there. But aside from a bit of a pout-- one that just might even be completely teasing in nature-- she has no reaction to it. There ARE places she can't go, after all. She grins in Alec's direction, and doesn't interrupt him. Damascus's agreement gets a blink, and she looks over. "Innit just?" she replies with a teasing tone. She grins in his direction. Then the water! "Ah, thanks," she notes. "Could use that. Need ter cool off a bit. At least I stay warm in winter, ey?" That is an accent. It's a commoner's accent, actually. It really does leave very little inthe way of mystery about her upbringing.
Alec pauses in his writing to shoot Damascus a skeptical look. "I nearly lost my sanity thanks to her. This is also her doing." He raises his left hand to show the fading scar across the palm. "I think my vision is fine. However, I'll readily admit that she's changed drastically these past few weeks. In fact, she's almost likable now." He catches that pout from Atesia and gives a guilty cringe. No way he can hide the bird now... He continues to jot out his message.
Damascus's accent is barely noticeable. The man is highly educated, but there is a touch of the exotic to his thari. "There is never a shadow without the light, no?" He offers toward Atesia, smiling at the seeing of the bright side, giving to the common born the same respect he'd give a royal, in attitude and friendliness. "I trust that your day has at least made itself worthwhile, that you are winded and in need of a cool drink?" He asks this, ticking eyes over to Alec afterward with a very slight tip of the head to accompany it. "As you say, m'lord. There is naught wrong with your eyes, then."
Atesia just happens to catch Alec's statement about his sanity and the scar on his hand. Oh she's paying attention now, even though she's pretty intent on that water. Though because she's paying attention, she notices Alec's guilty cringe and chuckle, waving a dismissive hand about it. No hard feelings, she seems to say silently. She nods to Damascus. "Runnin' all day, it'll do that to yer," she notes. "Thanks, I appreciate it." When that water comes out, oh boy does she drink it. Boy does she ever.
Alec sighs. "I'm not a lord. I'm just a soon-to-be ranger with an asshole for a grandfather." He finishes with his note and carefully folds and rolls it so it can better fit on the leg of the small bird preening itself on the table. "You do have a point, though. I guess her light is so harsh that it throws even deeper shadows..." He finishes tying off the note and then sends off the bird, and it flits through the air before zipping out the window again.
Damascus bows his head to Atesia. "I can but agree," he replies to her, a tone employed that tells the story of a thousand days doing blue-arsed fly impressions, running headlong through the day. His smile turns gentle and strangely grandfatherly for such a young-looking face, to the brightest light casting the deepest shadows, offering touches of his fingertips to their parters upon the other hand in acceptance. "Nobility is not always a birthright, would-be Ranger - and it is what you make of it."
Atesia tilts her head at Alec. Once he's done with the message and the bird leaves, she seems to feel it's all right to interrupt him. "Who d'yer mean?" she asks. "If yer don't mind me askin'." Damascus's words get a smile. "Some people don' 'ave the benefit a' THAT." She points in the direction that the bird left in. "Plenty a' people in the upper city what wants messages run ta others." So it looks like she literally meant that about the running! The mention of nobility gets a snort of a laugh. "'E's right y'know," she agrees. "If I introduced meself with ALL me names? Everybody'd think I was some daft noble." Here she grins, clearly teasing. "Can't 'ave that now, can we?"
Alec inhales deeply through his nose at Atesia's question and lets the air out again in a huge sigh. "Caine," he grumbles. "Caine is my grandfather." He reaches into one pocket to fetch a few coins, which he leaves on his table. "As for what I make of nobility, I'd say most of them are best avoided and aren't the sorts of people I want to be affiliated with. Anyway, thanks for the conversation," he says, mostly to Damascus, but he also nods in Atesia's direction as well before standing and heading out.
Damascus rises from his seat once again when it's clear that Alec is heading out also, giving an incline bow with his hands together as he's done a few times, turned to face the fellow. He settles only when it is polite to do so, drawing his tea closer and stirring it gently with a spoon. "I am somehow feeling as if I ought have been obnoxious and rude, or high and mighty. Perhaps I am getting lapse in my old age," he muses, fluttering lashes a few times as Alec heads out of the door. He turns attention back to Atesia as he takes up the cup to sip upon. "I find I am an individual swamped with means of communication, but often I do find that they can startle those that are not accustomed to them. I have made use of many a runner in my time."
Atesia tilts her head at the proclamation from Alec of his grandfather. "Well, I meant the girl yer was talkin' about, but that'll do." She chuckles. "Cheers, mate!" She waves as Alec leaves. Damascus speaks up and she snickers. "Nah. I like it when people don't play ter the stereotype. Noble, ey?" He did make it seem so. But then the mention of startling means of communication. "Oh I've done that meself a time or two. Seems the upper crust sometimes don't expect a little slip 'f a girl ter jump down off a roof with their message."