The circus had been a lovely distraction, however Viator was glad to be on his way out of Vienda. There was something stifling about the whole thing... all the mysteriously displaced wicks, and the tension of a post-tramatic city. He didn't know a damn thing about the happenstances of the last nine years, however, there had to be something that caused such a feeling of... uprootedness. It was an uneasy dosage of what Anaxas had become in his years on the waves. Seaside life'll do that to a bloke. Running a hand through shaggy golden locks, he shouldered his thick linen seabag and began an aimless, rolling stride that was as much a badge of the briny as any uniform.

Staring down the road, he saw many carts and groups heading in a southwesterly direction, and something in his gut suddenly attached itself to their path. Remember, laddie, once tied to a current there's no turnin' back. However, superstitious pride made him start forward. There's not a sailor born who could do aught but follow his gut.

Turning to his side, he caught a passerby with one calloused hand by the shoulder, eyes kind and small smile warm.

"Aye there, mind tellin' a poor Andrew of a seaman what all this mess is about?" though his words were rustically nautical enough, there was a trill in his voice that bespoke some learning.

(( My goal with this is go get Viator caught up on world events, and get him a ride to Surwood Isle He has an appointment with a certain snappish not-wick, dontcha know!))

Deb had been on quite a roll that night, bodies had been creatively disposed of and she'd made rather a good impression with her talent for carnage. She was sure she was on the road to a fast promotion and hopefully, oh Alioe how she hoped, getting to learn from Alyssa Pierre herself! She was severely chargrined when her train of thought was interupted by a young man placing his hand upon her person.

She gave him a raised eyebrow for his troubles, sailor or not, he wasn't cute enough to be interupting her quiet dreaming schemes.

"What mess?" She said, flicking her hair in a manner both attractive and annoying. "Do you mean the riots, the expulsions or the infrequent hangings?"

She didn't walk away, she was far too fond of attention, good or bad.

He chuckled quietly at the slip of a girl, eyes sparkling merrily. Young'uns these days, not a thought in their heads but for themselves. He hadn't been much older than the girl here when he'd signed on his first vessel. Never forget your first voyage...

He released her shoulder politely and nodded casually. Shrugging loosely, he opened his hands appeasingly, inclining his head respectfully.

"All o' it I s'pose, lass. There's much a man can miss in nine years abroad ye might say." She seemed somewhat on the... well, he had to admit it. Somewhat on the steely side. He'd met plenty of off-color types seaside, but she seemed colder somehow.

"Mind tellin' an old fool what alls been causing such choppy waters? More'n the details side of things than anything else." He grinned again, some of his years fading with the glimpse of true humor. There's more to the sea than the surface, and sometimes the storms brew deep in the breast of Hulali's older, harsher brother. "If'n ye can, t'least."

Deb turned her nose up at his attempts at ameliorating her. She wasn't a child to be coddled! She was a very serious member of a very serious underground organisation. For serious.

"What else? The gollies, like always." She said as though this was obvious, not feeling helpful. "The Crows and the Eyes have been fighting again. There have been some fairly serious riots because of it."

She stepped a little closer, looking about her and making a face that implied to anyone about that she found talking to Viator distasteful.

"From what I hear the worst one was caused by the galdori themselves! Just before they booted the wicks out of Vienda forever." She didn't bother to whisper, there wasn't anyone around that she could see and she liked looking well-informed and confident. "They kicked out the town-wicks as well, anyone they find on the street gets escorted out like a criminal."

Deb took this as an almost personal offence, is anyone was to be escorted out of town for being a criminal, it should be her! She was at least good at it.

Unperturbed, he continued to smile. Heh, youth is always wasted on the young. He couldn't find it in him to be annoyed by the obviously self centered girl; she was a bright, shining beacon of what had pushed him to the sea in the first place. Sighing, he processed the news with some chagrin. Gollies. I remember when that term was still whispered behind hands, eyes shifty and heads lowered, for fear of retribution. What a world the dry is.

"Mm. Wicks causin' riots? Tch. Usually the tribes're on good terms. Summat smells like someone piss'd in tha pot." Where a normal sailor would have stroked their chin, Viator tapped his nose thoughtfully. "Though, t' crow and t' eyes ha' been havin' problems of late. Mm. Ought to keep a weatherly thought on that." Although it was seemingly an externalized monologue, he also wanted to see more of her reactions. The girl gave away more than she knew. Pretty little thing thinks she's time's own gift t'the earth. Turning a chuckle into a cough, he fought the impulse to pat the girl on the back. Ego was so amusing.


His normally peacefully content expression faded into something much sadder, wistfulness lingering at the creases around his dark eyes.

"Who'd cast summat like that ina riot? Seems like-a waste. A total, useless waste. What fools." Although the accent dominated the begining of the statement, it faded into a slightly bastardized semblance of proper estuan.

"And now the wicks are homeless. What... oh. Sorry lass, didna mean to bore ya with a sailor's lament. Whut d'ya know where alla these wicks be goin'? I doubt they'll be lettin' em in Brunn'old." The nautical ring came back in full force, making his words nigh incomprehensible.

((Stop making me laugh with your hillarious insights into Deb's character! Oh she is such a bitch! I'm glad someone's completely unimpressed by her!))

Deb shrugged her shoulders.

"That big festival of theirs is coming up, out in Surwine... Surwood... Whatever, I'm not a wick so I'm not going to go." She flicked her hair yet again, as though she'd forgotten she'd already used that particular affectation. "I don't know what the townies are going to do, probably move to other towns. The galdori should be the ones what have to move. I don't see why I should have to go without my morning coffee because some judge has an axe to grind."

Deb started to stalk away, her pretty nose in the air. She looked over her shoulder, trying to accentuate her curves despite being fairly lithe in build.

"Are you coming or what?" She said, sounding bored but inwardly enjoying having some attention cast her way.

"Wha's a Judge got'ta do wit any o' this? He make tha riot?" Slowly, he was trying to form connections, however, fire-starting seemed mysteriously up someones path... oh goddess don't say he became a judge. If he's behind this one I am never stepping foot on shore again, all the pantheon as m'witness. Cricking his neck nervously, Viator eyed the girl again. Those with looks do seem to like spending them.

"Hm. A festival, ye say? Ah! Th'one every Bethas. Done forgot t'was so late in that year. Always lose a coulpla good men to it; get drunk offa their asses an' turn up adrift. Lucky sonsabanders, got a free excuse to go'n get sloshed."


"Haha, Aye lass, I'll lash rudder wit ye fer a bit. I'm attemptin'ta make my way about the great dry." tap-tap-tap went finger against nose, a metronome of thought. "Though I think I'll go'ta that celebration. Fair winds for it by any reckonin'." An' right now you're the one giving away information like it was rum at tha cap'n's wedding. Lessee what'll you tell me next. He contemplated throwing her a bone so to speak and making much of her, but it would have sounded as false as it was and been a waste of both their time. Viator wondered what she thought she was getting out of all of this.

Sorry luv, if yer lookin' for a john I don't have tha money to pay and if yer looking for a lay there's a'bit less behind the trousers than can safely satisfy a pretty thing like you. It amused him to think, though it wasn't serious; he avoided ladies of the night like the plague; they knew things about people that could very quickly send him stern into the sea.

Deb rolled her eyes with rude impatience. "Dze! No, a judge told the wicks they had to leave, I'm not sure who started the riot in the first place."



Deb gave him a frustrated look again. Hands on her hips and her lips shifting into a moody pout.

"What did any of that even mean?" She said, made grumpier by confusion. "Gods you are a weird man, if you want anymore information from me, you'll have to buy me a drink."

"Hahahaha! Oh lass, I apologize, I'm not used to speaking to landgoers." His face split into an easy grin, revealing good teeth and more minute creases about his eyes and forehead. Oh girl you do know how to cheer a heart. Been awhile since such innocent insolence was thrown my way.

"All I was sayin' was that I'd be honored t'follow ye for a bit, and buyin' a drink for so polite a chip'll do an old man like me some good." Besides, it looked like she was still in a talking mood. I'll wine 'er and dine 'er til she's through showin' what a big girl she is and then I can make my way to Surwood.

With a simple bow, he straightened and offered her his arm. "Lead away, m'gel, I'm afeared I don't quite know my way around this town."

Deb made a small grimace of annoyance.

"Of course you don't, that would be far too much to ask." She tucked her hand through his. "You're no where near as fun as the last man I had to escort about, he at least got riled up. It was kind of cute, in a way."

She flicked her hair about as she led Viator slowly downward towards the B&B. The tavern was quieter than usual since most were either drinking outside of town after the circus or were home abed.

"Mine's a G and T." She said, perching herself on a barstool, addressing Viator and not the barman.


----


Throughout their trip through the dives, Viator internally reminisced; Haven't been ina 'gollie' town'n longer than I care't remember. Lotsa old memories. Leastwise t'ain't alone. He grinned at the girl, still developing an internal snapshot of her. He liked being able to recognize someone on the spot. holding the door open for her as they came upon a dark, gloomy tavern, Viator peeked inside. Not too many around, likely the circus'll have 'em.

Settling himself on a barstool next to the girl, he looked around the establishment with a small, happy grin. "Ah, nuthin' like bein' ina tavern you ain't ever seen afore to make ye miss the seafarin' life." quirking an eyebrow warmly at the girl's studied disinterest, he scooped a few tallies out of his pocket and laid them on the counter.

"Dunno how the value of these'll have changed since I been abroad, but eh, better prepared than in debt, right?" He chuckled quietly, running a hand through his hair, dark eyes downcast and humble. "The lil gel right here will 'ave a gin-an-tonic, and a Chrove's Erse for me would be much obliged." He remembered the first time he'd had the drink, after his first crossing of the Austan. Ah, good lads those were. Good lads.

Stretching his arms quietly, and cracking his neck, he turned back to the pretty thing beside him. "I do b'lieve I'm lackin' in my manners. My name's Viator, an' if'n ye couldn't tell by the jargon, I'm a seaman." He bobbed his head politely, mirth still clinging to his features.


-----


The drinks arrived with little fanfare or conversation. Deb took a sip of her gin and tonic before giving Viator an unimpressed look.

"No, I had no idea at all." She said, sarcasm both obvious and poorly executed. "I'm Deb. I take it you don't know who I am?"

She took another sip of her drink, posture as perfect as she could make it. Someone who had been raised in polite society might have noted that her head was arched too far back and her shoulders were slung too low. She was still a picture of cockiness.

"So, what else do you want to know?" She continued, now looking as though she was a bit disappointed that her usual bravado wasn't giving her the approval she craved like an ant craves jam.


----


Smiling into his drink, he nodded quaintly. "Can't say I ever heard o' the name, but then again, I haven't been inland in almost nine years. You wouldna been but a wee lass then, known for the sweetness of yer smile." The ale was just as good as he had remembered it from any seaside port, like cool sweat and bilgewater flovored with piss. Everything a lad of nineteen wanted, and a man of twenty nine needed.

Ah, lady be kind to you girl for you have shown a sailor some humor in these humorless days. Downing the secnd half his drink in one gulp, he unbuttoned the top of his high collar, showing a smooth throat untouched by wind or sun.

"I'm mainly int'rested in what alls been happening with yon wicks, and that riot. What all caused it? And what troubles the gollies been givin' ya? I ent been overly interested, but since the sea be closed to me fer now, I'd better get an idea whats happenin'. An' I'm sure a lovely girl in the know like ye could help." He was suddenly reminded of something he learned froma recent trip, and slammed his tankard down loudly.

"An' what in the blazes was that fiasco in Dorhaven?" He hated the town, now, but it was a hatred born of love and warped. He needed to know; he's just gotten away from there. Now time to see what had really happened.


-----




Deb puffed up like a persian cat next to a labrador puppy.

"Sweet you say?" She said standing slightly, one foot dipping onto the ground, the other hooking onto her barstool. "Look, grass grows, birds fly, sun shines and brother..."

Deb loosely took hold of his collar. "I kill people!"

She sat back again as though nothing had happened.



"Dorhaven was Vita's biggest fuckup ever, no one's talking too much about it. Apparently some dumb golly backfired or brailed or something and killed a bunch of people. Reprobates." Deb spat the words with an encompassing sense of superiority. "Dunno about the riot, a Seventen cast some firey spell last time though, killed a whole lot of people. Kids too. The gollies are just carrying on like they always do, sticking their noses where they don't belong. Stupid creatures make more trouble than they ever fix."


-----



He couldn't help it; a gut laugh erupted from the smallish man, not at all barking but instead very fluid and lilting, a cultured laugh tarnished from disuse but still fine. Passing a hand over his brow, he tried to control the smile that creased his face, wondering where kids these days got their fire. I guess hard times makes hard people, but it Deb seems to be the brittle kind of sharp that's dangerous to wielder and victim alike. Poor thing, she coulda been sweet, too.

"I meant no harm, lass. I'm only yappin' 'bout how long it's been since I'd been anything like informed." He waved at the barkeep again, smile intact, needing a refill. "Hahaha, ye might be right about killin' things, but darlin' ye'd be a fool to deny your pretty face." He sipped the pungent liquor slower this time, savoring the numbing quality on his tongue. He missed the really strong stuff that the lads had shared one shoreleave, that time in Muluku... grinning, he turned to Deb again.



Viator tried to keep his cheer, but it was hard. The girl's words killed any hope he'd had that perhaps something had been learned by his... well, his brothers, while he was away. It seemed that more and more reflected the fucked up problems he'd had in his own life.

Yes, the worst atrocities are always performed by those who ought to be the caretakers, ought to be protectors. It made his skin crawl with memory, the spell of time being slowly ripped away. Today is not a day for forgetting, I see. Sometimes it took a storm to save the ship, but that didn't mean men weren't lost.

"Ah, dammit. I wondered..." He sighed, shaking his head, the ghost of a smile still clinging to dry features. "I kinda figured s'much. Lords 'n Ladies, it's a trying time." He looked at her, eyes flashing with a mix of sadness and despair. She shouldn't be bragging to some stranger about killin' folks. She ought to be on some farm, sassin' her mother and havin' all the boys chase 'er tail. She should have gotten a childhood, hell, he'd even had one.

Running his tongue over chapped lips, he shook his head at the counter. "Sorry for gettin' so maudlin, lass. I lost someone in Dorhaven an' didn't even get notice 'til I saw the tomb." It was a slight exaggeration, but it the emotional response was the same. Imagine, docking and finding out through word of mouth your father died in a riot. Nothin's as it should be anymore... "Not a damn thing."


-----


Deb seemed to deflate a little, she didn't try to deny that she was pretty, though truly she thought she was a mark above that. The talk of Dorhaven and losing people seemed to cut off her momentum. She thought of making some off colour comment about whether Viator had found his lost person again but that wasn't going to save her bruised ego, so she didn't bother.

She raised her glass.

"To the lost, then." She said, taking a sip. "May the next life be a better one."

Her tone was bitter and the downward tilt of her lips aged her. She sniffed, nostrils twitching and relaxing.

"I fuckin' hate toasts." She added after a pause. "I'm gonna drink some more."

"I only 'ope the gods above agree wit ye, lass. We could all do with a good reward at the end o' this charade." He raised the tankard and downed the lot of it in another giant gulp.


More gulps, more coins across the counter. He hadn't the constitution to talk of what he'd lost, and so he didn't. Better sad and drunk than sad and sober.

"Haha, lass, I'd haveta agree wit ye on that'n. Now, lemme buy ye a meal for yer kindness. Been a long time since I've been in the company o' such a girl." He grinned at the barkeep, eyes misty but smile wide.

"Anythin' the girl wants, plus a lil' fer ye for the good service." He tossed a shill on the counter. He only had a few; he'd been saving them for just such purposes. Though unless he found a suitably charitable caravan, his next journey was going to be a hungry one. Haha, some said starvin' was better'n hard tack. Well, let's but it to the test buckoes. Only wish I could tell you m'self...

"Well, darlin', it's about time for me to shove off. You've been more than a good companion, an' I be remiss to say anything else. Now I have some advice fer ye, luv." Holding up a hand to quiet the cynic tirade he was sure to come, he gave her the same look he gave to the young lads who thought 19 was the age of all gods. "Just sit tight and listen to an old sailor and humor me."

"I'm only sayin' this 'cause you seem like a bright lass, bright enough to watch out fer yerself. If'n ye've killed, then more power to ye. But this ain't everything." After sweeping a hand around the room, he gently placed it on the counter near hers, not bothering to brush the shaggy locks out of his eyes. "Equality... and this fight... ain't everything. Remember that wars oft break their best warriors afore ever lettin' 'em see the promised prize.

You're a girl in yer prime. I once... well, I've seen so many broken figures. I dunnae want to see you like that, Deb. Get out of whatever's keepin' ye killing people. Leave the killin' t' those who don't have so many years ahead of them. Live yer life like ye ain't ever heard o' history. An' most of all, don't listen to drunk sailors who attept to give advice because they're suddenly lost and totally useless ina world they don't understand and doesn't want them."

Everything in Viator was terrified of physical contact, physical affection. Yet, he wondered if someone had just tried to keep him under their wing when he was young enough to be... no. No use in dredging up old horrors. So gently patting her hand with the air of a deep embrace, he stood and looked to the door.

"An' if'n ya ever do decide that you're exactly where you want to be, never let a man, woman or golly tell ye different. Stick wit it." I've lost too many homes because of them, girlie. I'm no fighter, but you look like one. 'Stead of sellin' it to a cause, please just make your life the best it can be.

((Sorry for long post! ))

Deb bristled again, now glaring and angry and young looking.

"I ent getting broken by no one. I do the breaking!" She hissed. "This fight is everything. There ain't no future here."

She downed her drink and called for another one.

"I'd rather die for a cause than nothing at all. I'm not working my ass off and popping out kids just to see them starve... Then leave them orphaned because I din't know how to fight." Deb turned away, body language now entirely defensive, bravado gone. "Clock off, I don't want to talk to you no more. No one tells me what to do."

Deb was almost shaking with her rage. She didn't like it when people told her what to do, tried to prove they were wiser than her. More than that she was terrified because someone had seen through her and she was sure they hadn't liked what they had seen.

She knew that she didn't.

He smiled slightly back at her, indigo eyes sad, taking int he girl, the bar, the room. He had so few memories from his new life, he needed them all to be in startling clarity to hide the old ones that tried to tarnish all others.

"Then, lass, don't let a person like me set you off your course." His voice was softer, less loud and laughing, with a sweet air that had normally had been carefully schooled away. "Please, though. Watch yourself. You have everything with your nothing. Some call that loneliness, but take care to let no one steal your freedom." He paused by the poor again, lingering to the point of awkwardness. He didn't have to leave, he wanted to settle here. Watch over Deb. Become a regular at this tavern, know everyone's name. Live for once.

With a reluctant sigh he cast a final glance at Deb. "Change the world, Deb. Make it so people like you and me never have to exist again." And he stepped out into the night, heart heavy with discovery and revelation.

I guess I should go t'that wick skivy, leave this town behind me. I ain't got alot of time, I don't think. Shouldering his pack he set off down the road, a clock in his mind ticking away his life and a prayer in his heart for a little girl named Deb who needed all the luck he'd been denied.