Realm of Kaeleer => Ile de Paon => Thure Island => Topic started by: Isidore Nazaire on February 26, 2019, 05:45:13 PM

Title: All A Quiver
Post by: Isidore Nazaire on February 26, 2019, 05:45:13 PM
There had been rain in the night. A light but lengthy affair that had lulled Isidore to sleep early and coaxed him to stay in bed late. Once it cleared the sun came out. And he reluctantly pried himself from bed to stand on his balcony and judge the weather. Naked from head to waist, and only a towel for cover he soaked up a bit of sunlight. No wind. Crisp air. He could smell the sweetness of banana plants in the fields below. And hear the happy humming of the workers that tended them.

It was a good day for hunting. Or other outdoor pursuits. Mind turning to his bow he considered doing the weekly hunt a few days early. Surely someone would welcome the meat. The men would be annoyed to have their schedules thrown off, perhaps, but what else was there to do? Hands flexing on the banister he sighed at the endless ocean sprawling from his backyard into infinity. Maybe he would just go out and shoot alone.

Or not alone. He perked up, remembering Jin-ae’s interest in archery. She had even carried a bow of her own. Turning on his heel he dressed in loose cottons that would not exacerbate the native heat. For his feet he sidestepped the sandals he wore in the house and laced on his raiding boots instead. There would be a bit of walking to find a suitable spot.

When he had finished he crossed the house to Jin-ae’s room. Tapping softly on the door in case she was still asleep. But firmly enough that if she had been she would wake. He was not attuned to her habits, or anyone in the house really. Too used to the right to come and go from them as he pleased. It felt like she took an exceptionally long time open the door. That might have been his lack of patience, however, so Isidore shrugged it off. Smile turning up half his face he looked down his cheek at the little witch. ”How long does it take you to string that bow?”

Title: Re: All A Quiver
Post by: Jin-ae So on March 24, 2019, 11:34:52 PM
Of all the habits that had been grown in her, the one Jin-ae was least partial to was the one that got her awake before the sun was up. In Dhemlan it had meant tending horses, cleaning house, laundry.


Jin-ae had lain in bed for what felt like a small eternity, staring up at a ceiling that hadn't been hers long enough to feel familiar, wondering what she was supposed to with all the time she had. The night bugs hadn't yet packed in their songs away, and although Jin-ae wasn't yet brave enough, or dumb enough, to attempt the outdoors at night, she'd lingered at the window. High enough up that the air was cooled, her view still clogged by trees. A vast change from the clear, flat steppes and plains.

She couldn't linger too long in that memory though, the edge of melancholy too strong. Instead she turned, surveyed the space that had been given to her. Even after unloading that which she'd felt wouldn't be terribly incriminating from her cabinet, the room was still mostly bare.

Which meant she could practice her forms without having to move any of the furniture.

Hair braided back, a pair of her new, light pants and a shirt later, and Jin-ae was falling into rhythms that she'd been moving through for decades. The movement of her body in ingrained patterns helped calm her, evened her breathing and left her worries on the floor.

The knock on her door startled her in as much as she hadn't realized how much she'd been absorbed in the sound of her own breathing. Blinking rapidly, she fell out of form and glanced to the window, trying to calculate what the change in the light meant, how long she'd been so internally focused. Muscles not sore with overwork, just warm. Not too long then. She patted her cheeks, feeling the heat of her own skin and hoping she wasn't a sweaty mess.

"Captain Nazaire," she said. She didn't know who she'd been expecting, but it made sense that it'd be him. She hadn't interacted with all that many of the staff, and certainly not enough that they'd seek her out in the early morning. Memories of their last conversation made her eyes drop to his shoes, aware that in some way she'd been projecting or failing as masking her thoughts from him. "Seconds, with Craft assistance." She'd been proud of that little trick, too, calling the lose loop to the tip of the bow arm. More accurate and requiring less thought than telekinetically trying to loop it herself, but easy to overestimate initially, to want to call it right to her hand.

Then what he'd said really registered, and it took a heartbeat to call her bow to her hand, slip-calling the string to it's notch. "Where are we going?"
Title: Re: All A Quiver
Post by: Isidore Nazaire on March 26, 2019, 04:23:24 PM
The hint of surprise on Jin-ae’s face sent a sliver of warm pleasure into Isidore’s stomach. Where it sat at the top of his pelvis in a thick pool. Brows rising together into small arches he spoke from the half of his mouth that was not cocked up in a grin. ”Miss So.” He greeted back warmly. Watching the flicker of thoughts behind her barriers without dipping in to investigate. No point working her up when she looked flustered already.

A delicate line of sweat dampened her hairline and her cheeks were cheerfully pink. He wondered what she had been up to before he knocked. Of course he had his own ideas of what a pretty young thing should be flushed over. And was very tempted to press her hands to his face to see if there was evidence the fantasy might be true. That would have been incredibly rude and invasive, sadly. They were still learning to be friends. If he was too pushy she might not want to come out with him. Or worse, she would come then not enjoy their time together.

”Excellent.” He encouraged looking down at the top of her head as she tipped her face down. There was enough time to consider peeking into her thoughts but not to actually do it. She bolstered back up. Bow appearing, dainty fingers wrapped around the curve. The tidy little trick she used to string it noted with a grin. But Isidore did not have the luxury of ever leaving his own as anything less than ready. He could notch an arrow at the same time he called the weapon in, though. Lips shifting he gave her a shrug at her question. ”Hunting I suppose. Just out for archery and exercise really.”

Anything to sift away some of the boredom of being home mostly alone. In his mansion full of people. They were all very busy, though, and becoming the master of the house did not take away a childhood of being swatted and shrieked at to leave the servants to their tasks. ”I’m sure you’re ready to get out and see more of the island anyway. We haven’t had a chance to talk now that you’re a little more settled in.” He led the way downstairs. Lingering close in case the stairs played tricks on her again. Then showed her through the open air bottom floor of the house. Stone floors and walls with giant archways. Rooms made up with wooden panels that could be moved when the ocean rose up to reclaim the land during big storms.

Flooding was not uncommon given their geography. Many of the homes along the beach were built up on stilts. It was the main reason the slave quarters were so far from the house. To keep them from sitting in water farther up the shoreline. And closer to the sugar cane and coconut crops they tended. Isidore measured his stride so that he didn’t leave her behind. Strolling through the kitchen to give Rochelle’s withered old cheek a kiss before they left the house. Down a small lane into a thick patch of jungle where the trail was harder to follow. If they stuck to the main trail there would be a cottage on the end, but he would not take her too near it today. The smell of his rut and the ruts of fathers and uncles past stained its walls even from the outside. Animals, and people, avoided it for several yards.

”We’ll see if we can find a herd of deer.” Not the majestic sort he hunted on the mainland. Smaller, weaker little cousins the size of large dogs. Having thought of the flavor of veal, however, he now thought of something else. ”Did you eat breakfast?”
Title: Re: All A Quiver
Post by: Jin-ae So on May 09, 2019, 10:08:52 PM
It had been a bit since Jin-ae had hunted anything larger than rabbits, and she hadn't used her bow for it when she'd been travelling. But the idea of being out on the island, familiarizing herself with the wildlife and the lay of the land around Captain Nazaire's mansion would do her some good.

Whether or not she was ready to talk to Captain Nazaire was another matter, one that caught her as she hastened to call her good boots and them them on her feet before he could take too many steps and leave her behind. In all matters since she'd come to his... care, the sibilant voice of her mother had dogged her thoughts. There were rules here, unspoken ones, that she didn't know how to learn and wasn't sure how to broach with other servants. Slaves? How many of them were bought for life and how many were not?

These things buzzed in her as she followed him down the stairs, noticing that he decided not to stray too far in case she tripped. Again. The memory of it flickered through her in embarrassment, but she kept her feet about her and pointedly didn't think about what her mother would have said.

It was easy to follow him through the kitchen and out onto the lane and then toward where the trees grew more dense, anticipation already buzzing through her. There were few things in life that Jin-ae found enjoyable enough to be able to do for hours on end, and, like learning and attempting to combine her Craft, creeping around in the underbrush was one of them. She preferred to do it more to research the wildlife than for hunting alone, but it'd been a necessity to learn at home and she hadn't needed to always bring game back.

"Deer?" It brought to mind an image of dusty colored, narrow things from the plains, almost blending in to the grass around them. Thin antlers, fast. They hadn't come too close to the herds, when they were out to pasture, but she'd heard that some type had fangs as long as a man's finger. Were they like that here, or larger, like the ones outside of Dhemlan? Or smaller? She couldn't remember how big the plains deer had gotten, but they hadn't been very big.

Ah... "No, Captain Nazaire," she said, calling her quiver from her cabinet before fitting her bow across her chest to leave her hands free as they moved forward. She didn't want to have to call them in later and make unnecessary noise. "I'm used to eating late." At home she wouldn't be eating for at least another hour or so, depending on what needed doing in the barn or around the house. Maybe later, if her mother were being particular about her chores.

What was a polite response to that though. "Have you?" That was caring enough, right? Slaves cared about their master's well-being, generally, or got good at faking it she supposed. She didn't have any reason to wish Captain Nazaire ill at least. Some part of her still entertained that this was like some kind of away trip from home, even if it was a thin veneer at best, and she was doing her best to think objectively about it all. To find the lines in the sand and make sure she kept on the right side of them.