Scar for Scar

Log Info

• Title: Scar for Scar
• Emitter: Murder
• Characters: Murder, Aryia
• Place: The Wilderness
• Time: September 29th, 2021
• Summary: Muder invites Aryia out for dinner at her place, a claimed grounds in the woods to the north. They speak of past injures and woes, as well as their distate for most people in general. Partaking in some spicy rabbit curry, they speak of food, like and dislike of sailing, some of Aryia's personal connections, they make plans to do this again in the future.

The Gobbo is easily found, she is a fixture in certain places. Her haunts. Her name is known.

But her lair? Not in Alexandria. She takes Aryia by the hand, should the woman allow, and leads her through the warrens and out the city gates.

The changing from Summer to Autumn brings the mists down from the mountains, and they are out in force today. Everything is reduced to pale greys and subdued sounds. Murder leads the scarred Mul northwards.

Diving into the woods, the Gobbo soons pulls them up short. Ahead of them, a small camp. Ringed with a sturdy wall built of large branches and shaped logs driven into the ground. She pulls open a small gate, and gestures inside. "My lair!", she announces proudly.

The mute mul'neissa is dressed in nearly the same attire as they met last time: brown pants, sleeved green shirt and a black shawl. Sans the hat, the shawl was wrapped around her head to keep her ears warm. She's willingly lead by the hand out of the city, her idly inspecting the nature as it rolls by and grows more dense with wood and leaf.

The woman pauses at the edge of the camp, head tilting one way as she pulls her silver shades off. A hand pulls down the shawl to expose a faint smile.

Aryia seems easy to impress, her gesturing, "It looks nice." She takes the gesture inward as an invitation, and she slips into the walled camp, her curiously looking about. "You were right, it is a bit of a ways out."<Handspeech>

Murder puffs up a little at the praise. "I built it myself. It's my home away from the city. It's comfortable. Cozy." She grins broadly, showing off a lot of teeth. "And peaceful. Few people come wandering by."

The Gobbo sets to work getting a fire going, pulling wood from the storage lean-to. "Have yourself a seat.", she says with a scratchy voice, gesturing at one of the logs arranged around the fire. "So, what will it be, rabbit or chicken?" There's a noisy scratching sound as she works her flint and steel, sparks flying, and soon some of the kindling is alight. The fire lights up the surrounding area nicely.

"I can see the appeal," Aryia gestures with a sagely nod. Giving a thumbs up, she sets her bag down behind the seating log and sits, her crossing one leg over the other. She pulls more of her shawl off, hints of faintly pink, burned skin showing through that was almost nearly healed.

She taps her chin before putting her hands together and flicking two fingers out. "Rabbit. I haven't had that in a long while. Do you need a hand with anything?" she offers. It felt strange to be treated to something, and a part of her sought some manner of assisting. <Handspeech>

"You can help after.", she says softly, grinning at the recently healed Elf. "Guests shouldn't feel they need to do anything." A reassuring hand pats Aryia's knee, and the Gobbo laughs. "You're healing up well!" The Gobbo returns to the storage lean-to, and begins hauling things out, eventually getting to a spot where a large, flat stone covers the ground. She grunts and growls, and then hefts the stone from its place. Three rabbits are retrieved, and then she takes on the task of putting everything back. Her eyes are glowing red as she turns back to the fire, but the light slowly fades.

"So I am doing a rabbit curry. It'll be pleasantly warm, as far as spice goes. Is that okay?"

Aryia shifts a bit in her seat and nods as her request to help is gently turned down. She picks at her fingers and glances to her feet. Now that both were removed from feisty environments, it's quite clear that the mute woman is a rather socially anxious mess, due to her lack of any sort of interesting small talk.

But thankfully, Murder was the one to do the talking. Aryia rubs her arm and winces slightly, but she nods. "Thank you. Ran through an acid cloud in Charn." Makes sense, those weren't the bruises she had the other day, and-

Wait, what? Charn?

She watches the Gobbo pull the stone out, her about halfway out of her log seat to help but sees they had it handled just fine. The mute resumes sitting. Though, she gives a wider smile. "Make it as warm or spicy as you want. I like hot food." <Handspeech>

"Charn? Hmm, that's a distance away. How did you get there? Were you part of a guild group?", the Gobbo wonders, her back to the Mul'niessa as a pot is filled with water, and left to boil beside the fire. Ingredients are fetched out of a bag, and mixed in a small, earthenware bowl. Murder turns after a few minutes, moving perhaps uncomfortably close, to peer at Aryia's face closely. A small finger traces a scar along the Mul's throat, but the Gobbo seems more interested in the recent acid burns. This close up, it's possible to see evidence of burns on the Goblin's face and head. "Did it hurt a lot?", she wonders, her voice muted.

Aryia's gaze glances down as Murder's back was to her. Reliving the night op that didn't happen but naught a couple of days ago. Cages, people, slavers, a demon, Charn. She curls a fist, closes her eyes, and lets out a sigh. "Boat. And no. It was not guild sanctioned. We freed some slaves," she answers with a hand.

Finally opening her eyes, she finds Murder much, much closer than she had thought, her shimmering irises going cross eyed. She instinctively leans back, frowning a bit. But she all but freezes at the finger on her throat.

There's a long pause.

Calmly, she reaches up, creafully grabs the Gobbo's finger, and pulls it off her decades old wound. "Don't... do that again," she warns, releasing the digit as her marred face smooths out to a neutral expression. Under all the scars, and the sunken face, there was tarnished youth. Her hand goes to her throat, holding it. A hesitant answer, "... it was the most excruciating pain I've ever had in my life." <Handspeech>

Murder blinks as her finger is grabbed, and she nods slowly, looking momentarily vulnerable as she's warned.

She takes a few steps backwards, almost ending up in the fire, but she stops short and turns her attention back to the dinner preparations. The three rabbits, already dressed and ready, are set over the fire to cook, the Gobbo making sure they are rotated to cook as evenly as possible.

"I got caught in a nasty fire. Almost didn't make it out, and lost friends down there too. It hurt like hell. I keep... I keep my head partly shaved as a reminder. I wanted to die. 'Cause the fire was my idea. I had everything planned down to the letter, it was perfect. But it got ruined, and people lost their damned minds. It was my fault..."

As she talks, rice is poured into the boiling pot of water, and the curry is methodically prepared. "I didn't mean to open the uhm older wounds."

Aryia eases some as Murder makes some space between them, though her mind wanders as she rubs at her throat. She glances to the gobbo as they return to the preparations, forcing herself to watch how it was done to reel her thoughts back to the now.

Though, such words make her blink. And her head cants to the side. A bead of empathy rests in her gut as a sigh leaves her.

A calloused hand rests on Murder's shoulder from behind them, gives a squeeze, and pulls away. "It's fine," Aryia motions once her host looks her way. "You just... caught me off guard. People don't usually get close enough to do that." Unless I trust them, she doesn't add.

She takes Murder's story, listens to it, mulls it over, and decides it was only equal to share. She signs a methodical: "I told my owner 'no', after they told me to kill a slave for misbehaving the final time about half a century ago. They had a serrated sword. I had a rusty dagger. I nearly died from blood loss, but he died from a knife in the heart." <Handspeech>

The Gobbo jumps slightly at the squeeze to her shoulder, and she giggles lightly at her own reaction. "I'm sorry, I should have recognized that from your previous reaction to my flames." The meal preparation slows, as the waiting begins for things to cook. "I'm small and I have a habit of getting closer than people like. But I'm a touchy-grabby sort of person. People always hold things high up, out of the way, and I wanna see stuff from my vantage point. So it's a habit. You were close enough for me to reach."

Murder's eyebrows rise as she turns to look at Aryia. "Nicely done. That'll learn 'em to bring a sword to a dagger fight." Her expression slowly turns sad. "Still. You took an awful beating, didn't you?"

The mul'neissa gives a light, if weak smile. "I understand that. I am shorter than most as well. But I just end up dealing with it." She watches the boiling water for a moment, holding out a hand to the fire warm her joints.

She looks down to Murder, only for a moment before her gaze rests on some gnarled knot on the log she sits on. Her lips pull up for a brief moment in a smile at the praise, but it soon smooths out. "That's... one way to put it. It was a scuffle. I didn't know how to fight then. I remember..."

Her chin lifts up to the leaves above, recalling something without getting lost in the tide. The full, gnarly extent of the scar on her throat able to be seen. "... a man saw me kill him from the street after my throat was cut. Threw some coin at the slave I saved and bought me. I passed out as he was dragging me out. I woke up a few days later, I think. Kept me from dying. But that just landed me in a worse place."

"The fighting rings I told you about." She sighs, eyes the burn scars on Murder, then just emptily nods. <Handspeech>

"Oh.", she says softly. Murder approaches once more, though doesn't get into the Mul's close personal space. "Here I am doing it again. I wasn't intended to drag you down a painful road, though I guess I have met my goal of knowing you a bit better." The Gobbo lightly pats at Aryia's knee again, since she didn't react poorly to it the first time. "You can lean on me, if you need."

Murder goes back to the food preparation, but she moves everything closer, and crouches down in front of the Mul'niessa. Close enough to be touched, but far enough away that it has to be sought out. Earthenware bowls have been fetched, along with wooden spoons. Rice is doled out, and the chicken too, cut into small, bite-sized pieces. The curry requires a bit more elbow grease as the Gobbo mixes it well.

Aryia's lips pull sideways, as she gives a one shoulder shrug. "It's okay. It gets easier every time to talk about it. I've also had a few decades to process it." The little gesture makes a small smile flicker onto her face. "... thank you."

She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees as Murder brings everything forward. And with that, her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. The spices in the air doing their work.

Finally, a question poised. "... sorry if this is a stupid question, but... why do you want to know me better?" she asks, rubbing her arm and looking vulnerable, disarmed. <Handspeech>

The Goblin gives a little giggle at her question, and looks over her shoulder at Aryia. "I like you. You seem like a good person, and interesting besides. Maybe, some time, we might do a guild mission or two together. Always good to know one another before then." She settles back down and lets out a little breath. "Among other things.", she says softly, under her breath. "And it seemed like you could use a friend."

The curry's smell grows stronger still, and soon she is liberally pouring over the bowls of rice and rabbit. A bowl, a wooden spoon, and a mug of water are offered up to Aryia. And Murder will have her own, and settle down in front of the shadow Elf once more. Just beyond touch, but close, moving her legs to sit cross-legged. She eyes Aryia expectantly, awaiting her reaction.

Aryia blinks owlishly at the answer. Thankfully, the fire crackles and pops, masking the utterance and evading the sharp senses of the shadow elf. "I..." she dumbly gestures. Her face dusts a rubor in embarrasment from her stunted response, and she shakes her head, a hand smacking her forehead. "I could always use more friends. That's very nice of you to say. Thank you."

Her attention shifts to the offered food, her taking up the bowl of food and drink. Hands occupied, she smiles a bit wider, her giving an appreciative nod. Setting the water behind her, she stirs everything up, pulls a spoon full out, blows on it, then takes a hearty bite.

She blinks. Looks down at the bowl as her face grows hot from the spice. And promptly shoves another mouthful in with glee. <Handspeech>

A surprisingly delicate big toe pokes at Ariya's leg as she starts to really get into the curry. "Your expression tells me that maybe you think I had an ulterior motive for getting to know you better." The Gobbo pauses as she, too, shovels a spoonful of curry into her mouth. Her neck and cheeks begin to redden.

"It's good, yes? Do you enjoy the spices, then? I uhm, make a decent chili too. Beef based. So, so good. I also trade in the hot peppers used for the spices."

Aryia's feast is interrupted by a toe poking her, the elf looking down with puffed out cheeks like a squirrel. She does a large gulp to get it all down, her face red from the spice but taking it like a champ. She rubs the back of her neck, and looks off to the side. "Charn makes it hard for me to trust people," she lamely explains with a hand.

She bobs her head in agreement that, yes, this was really, really good. So much so that she might go back for a second helping. Though, she pauses, and gives a weak, apologetic smile. "... sorry, after that shit that went down in the Colloseum, I think chili is ruined for me for a decade or two." <Handspeech>

"Hmm.", the Gobbo says, her own mouth full of food. "I don't know.", Murder says after swallowing. "It seemed like something deeper was there. But not to worry, maybe I was just distracted." She snorts then, and nods slowly, another mouthful of curry chewed and swallows before she continues. "Ah, weird things like that happen all the time, I don't let... I try not to let it ruin my enthusiasm for delicious food."

Now that made Aryia's head tilt nearly ninety degrees to the side. "... deeper...?" she echoes with a hand, blinking naively. Another couple of morsels, and she resets her head with a small nod. "I suppose. Just stuff like that makes it hard for me to trust random things, you know?" <Handspeech>

The Goblin is pretty efficient at tearing through her food, and she is looking wistfully at the potential seconds... and thirds... that await their attention. "Seconds?", she wonders of the Mul'niessa.

Murder nods slowly then. "I get that, I know that it is... weird. But you see, it's a pretty good reason to learn how to cook, right? If you know what's going into the food, it's easier to trust it."

"Y-s," comes a hissed reply with no hesitation as Aryia holds out her already empty bowl. She too was no stranger to scarfing down a good meal. Or... any meal, really.

She shakes her head. "Not weird. I know how to cook a little bit. Mostly stews and soups. But nothing like this." Though, her mind was still churning in the back of her head of what deeper meaning Murder brought up.<Handspeech>

The bowls are quickly refilled, though when the Goblin settles down, this time she sits with her back to the Mul'niessa, and leans back lightly against Aryia's legs. "Bah, this is easy, really. It's like making a stew, mostly. You boil the rice til it starts absorbing all the water, you cook the meat to how you like it, and the curry is just a bunch of spices, water and whatever vegetables you want. I mean, it's maybe a bit of effort to make it, but that's basically it. If you can make stew, then you can make curry. I'll show ya, some time!"

Aryia takes her bowl back after downing some water to abate the heat, though she looks down at the short folk leaning against her. The mute woman didn't seem to mind, were her diving back into her bowl any indication.

She had to put her signs a bit further out to be seen. "Oh. I see. Well, um, sure, if you don't mind," she mentions, a bit surprised that someone would go out of their way to teach her something like that. She queries, "What else do you know how to make?" <Handspeech>

Murder shrugs her shoulders. "Not a whole lot. Stews, obviously, soups and stuff. But I have learned how to prepare game for eating, so, I can do fish, birds, rabbits, boars, deer... lots of stuff!" She gestures to their surroundings. "Stuff that works pretty well out here. I'd love to bake bread, but that might be harder to do. You need flour and .. I don't even know what plant or animal flour comes from."

The Gobbo giggles lightly, and sighs, her seconds being finished even faster than the firsts. "Oof.", she complains, "Full."

Aryia gives a small nod as Murder lists off the game. "Wheat. It's ground wheat," she supplies an answer before adding on. "I know how to do fish decently well. I sailed for a few years. Don't know how to do the rest though,"

She too sighs, setting the empty bowl aside and picking up her mug of water. The mute leans back a bit, her reaching over and patting the gobbo on the shoulder with a light smile on her lips. "That was good. Thank you for the meal." <Handspeech>

"Hah, I get seasick. I didn't know until I went out for a guild mission, and we had to sail across the ocean. It was awful. I prefer my fishing to be done from the shoreline, or at worst, in the river." Murder giggles and sighs, leaning a bit more heavily upon Aryia's legs in response to the pat on her shoulder. "You're welcome! I'm glad you liked it."

"I was at first. But I got used to it. Chew on some ginger next time, it'll help," she gives some sailorly advice. "But I understand what you mean. Boats have a lot going on." She looks down, and her face softens some, just watching the gobbo relax.

A gentle poke on the shoulder is given to try and get Murder's attention. Aryia, in her usual waffling manner, gestures out in small signs, as if she was speakign quietly: "... Not many people come up here to your home, do they?" <Handspeech>

"Ginger? Like, the root? How much is needed?" She rubs at her chin, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I'll have to remember to add some to my kit, so that I can be prepared for the next time." Murder grins brightly up at Aryia. "Thank you for that, you're a font of interesting tidbits of knowledge."

Her eyebrows rise up slightly, and she looks around. "Yeah, it's off the beaten path, so to speak. It's why I chose this spot. Should be safe from all but the most random of interruptions. Why do you ask?"

Aryia nods. "The root. Not a lot of it. Just enough to chew on to get the juices out." She rubs her neck and looks off to the side, smiling just a hint. "It's nothing. You pick up a thing or two after living for a hundred years."

The counter to the question makes her fidget her hands together. Her lips move to foreign words, switching back to Tradespeak, then back to something else. Knowing the words in her native tongue, but not in a mutual one. Finally, "I just ask because I feel like your are..." <Handspeech>

Her hands aimless search for an answer in the air, but instead she finds it in the dirt, her leaning over to write down in Tradespeak: "Ostracized. Like me."

"The root. Alright." Murder grins and sits up a little, turning to rest her chin upon one of Aryia's knees. Her ears perk up a little as the Mul'neissa hunts for the word. She blinks and squints at the words on the ground. It takes her a moment, but she looks back and shrugs. "If anything, it is mostly self-inflicted. People piss me off, much of the time. So many confusing things, habits or traditions that seem at odds, getting offended at stupid things..."

Aryia just slightly tilts her head down to look at the Gobbo on her knee. Her foray into possibly bad questions seems to yield nothing harmful, so she relaxes some. "I can understand that. People piss me off too sometimes. But there are some people that..."

A warm smile unknowingly spreads on her lips as she glances of to the side, gaze unfocused. "... make things a lot better." <Handspeech>

Murder giggles then at what Aryia implies, "Oho, you have someone you fancy, then? Is he a looker? Big and strong? Or is he more of a scholarly type?" Her ears perk up even more, practically standing straight up, and her grin is broad. "There are people who are good at that. I wish there were more of them, you know?"

Aryia's little happy spell of thinking about those close to her is broken for a beat as she look to the grinning gobbo. A rubor fills her cheeks, her rubbing her neck and looking off at something in the woods.

A hand raises to answer. "..." Nothing. Then timid gestures, their motions small. "... they are a kind person who is different from me, and went through some bad things like me. They are very strong, in mind and body. Good with details."

Her gaze goes to her lap, not looking at the smiling Gobbo peering gleefully up at her from her knee. The standing ear's also just barely manage to pick up from her whispers hisses and clicks. "... sh-'s -ls- v-ry pr-tty..."

The embarrased elf addresses the last bit with a, "And that's why I like the few friends I have, they've helped me a lot, and I consider one my family." <Handspeech>

"What's her name, then?", the Gobbo wonders. "Pretty and good with details, and strong. Sounds like a good person to have in your corner, yeah!" Murder seems in high spirits at this point, and pats at Aryia's other knee. "You are very particular in whom you choose as a friend." She giggles. "Now, if she can cook, she's perfect."

The discussion of the topic makes Aryia's face grow hotter, her covering her scarred visage with both hands. She takes a moment before spelling out in a practised motion, "V-I-O-L-E-T."

There's a snort behind her hand, an odd one that lacks any throaty laughter. It's just air. "I don't know, I haven't asked if she can. Probably. She might be okay at it."

She calms a bit, and continues. "I am only particular because most people piss me off. But my friends aren't most people." <Handspeech>

The Gobbo giggles lightly, patting Aryia's leg again, before standing to deal with the dishes. "It is adorable that you are so shy about this. Violet is a neat name, I must say. She's got to be a great person, and it's nice that she's got your heart all aflutter."

Aryia continues her bashful hiding, it only growing more pronounced as she's lightly teased about it. "... she means a lot..." she motions with one hand as Murder gets to the dishes.

Smacking her cheeks a few times to get herself out of her self-inflicted embarrassment, she gets to her feet and walks over to where her host is cleaning up.

"I'll help clean. It's the least I can do," she gestures, getting down on her knees to help gather a few things. And also be eye level with Murder, as she reaches out, and puts a hand on the goblin's shoulder.

"And Murder. Thank you. This was fun."

The mul'neissa smiles. <Handspeech>

-End Scene-