kassandra,
we were born in the shadow
of the crimes of our fathers
From the bars of her window, the markets of Furae had seemed polished and weapon-like, all silver canopies and straight streets of cobbled stone. Little did Kassandra know the heavy taxes levied from the earnings of the merchants went towards keeping up order and appearances. Stall owners had to fight tooth, hoof, and coin to keep the preferred spots, and so only those who produced the highest profits could stand to exist. The remainder sat at the far end of the market in crumpled heaps, often bearing their wares from spread aprons, or stalking up and down the streets with objects in coats or hidden under a cloth, trying to find a buyer for the unpermitted, illicit goods. Of course, her windows were almost always shut-- for both the safety of the populace at the hands of her terrible magic (all lies conjured up by the despot king), and to further strengthen her entrapment-- and so she did not get to hear the loud and often obnoxious hawking, the yelling, the cursing, and the overall thunder of voices as people packed the lanes and sought the best deals.
The markets of the Night Court did a fine job of filling in the gaps in her knowledge of commerce and gathering. Here she was jostled and shoved, bounced by haunch and punched by muzzles, and accosted on all sides by yelling and pleading in the hopes of grabbing her attention. "Jewelry for a pretty lady!" Yelled a gentleman as he dangled some sort of moonstone necklace in her eyesight; she jerked away, startled, and her hound companion snapped at the peddler's forearm. If the salesman noticed, he said nothing, and simply turned to the individual behind her: "Jewelry for a pretty lad!"
"My lady!" A voice calls, and Kassandra, honed at a young age to respond to the polite beck and call of elders and betters-- everyone was her better, she was but an ugly bird trapped in a beautiful cage-- "A trinket, a bauble, for your sagacious eye-- what? Where did the ring go?" The jeweler almost upturns their cart in a tizzy, and Kassandra uses the opportunity to slip away.
It is all very overwhelming, especially for a lady with no coin to spend. The din and bustle are both loud and soft, both right next to her ears and yet fading into the background (there is a cry of "Thievery! I have been pilfered from!" growing ever distant behind her). But Kassandra finds herself drawn to the chaos, to the areas of the world where life is being lived. She does not understand it herself, not truly; but as she ages and the ache of lost time in her heart becomes a squeezing black void, she is led more and more to the places she might have missed, despite the stress that makes her withers jump as the crackles of distant bonfires grow louder.
Here, at least, the air is sweet and touched by sea salt and woodsmoke, and she does not feel like she has to fight for each breath. The stars in her pelt echo the stars in the sky and she feels relaxed underneath them, feels connected to Caligo in a way she cannot place. Kassandra fills her lungs readily but pauses in her path to the fires. There are so many people, talking and laughing and in the throws of conversations... she would hate to spoil anyone's enjoyment by the insertion of her frequently awkward presence. She does, instead, alter her course, heading towards the less populated bar. It is inviting like a tree in fall, as those approaching to bring spirits back to their respective parties fall away when their order is filled.
She finds a spot at the bar next to a strange but beautifully colored equine, with a lion's tufted tail and fuzzy ears that remind her of those pink salamanders, or maybe some rare coral. She catches herself staring a bit, before giving herself a slight shake and turning her eyes to the menu.
(You and alcohol?) Oculos snickers from beside her, head on the swivel as his remarkable vision clues him into potentially falling snacks, (This can only be a bad idea.)
"Hush, you," Kassandra scolds, loving. She studies the menu with such force her tongue sticks out a bit, but she knows nothing about such indulgences and every recipe that may sound good comes with some unknown.
(You, quite literally, have never had a drink in your life,) the Borzoi said, grinning now.
"Well, there is a first time for everything," Kassandra huffs. She turns to the violet stranger beside her. "You seem a bit more familiar here, would you have any advice?"
(Congratulations, you just called a complete stranger a lush,) Oculos said, voice flat. (This is why we don't have any friends.)
"Lush..? Oh! Oh." Kas blushed, her outburst probably seeming out of place for the poor four-eared stranger, who could not hear her Bonded's chastisement. "Forgive me. I simply meant... well, you seem more confident here. Er, in general. My goodness." She lowered her gaze and bit her tongue, hoping the stranger was not too insulted by her folly.
The markets of the Night Court did a fine job of filling in the gaps in her knowledge of commerce and gathering. Here she was jostled and shoved, bounced by haunch and punched by muzzles, and accosted on all sides by yelling and pleading in the hopes of grabbing her attention. "Jewelry for a pretty lady!" Yelled a gentleman as he dangled some sort of moonstone necklace in her eyesight; she jerked away, startled, and her hound companion snapped at the peddler's forearm. If the salesman noticed, he said nothing, and simply turned to the individual behind her: "Jewelry for a pretty lad!"
"My lady!" A voice calls, and Kassandra, honed at a young age to respond to the polite beck and call of elders and betters-- everyone was her better, she was but an ugly bird trapped in a beautiful cage-- "A trinket, a bauble, for your sagacious eye-- what? Where did the ring go?" The jeweler almost upturns their cart in a tizzy, and Kassandra uses the opportunity to slip away.
It is all very overwhelming, especially for a lady with no coin to spend. The din and bustle are both loud and soft, both right next to her ears and yet fading into the background (there is a cry of "Thievery! I have been pilfered from!" growing ever distant behind her). But Kassandra finds herself drawn to the chaos, to the areas of the world where life is being lived. She does not understand it herself, not truly; but as she ages and the ache of lost time in her heart becomes a squeezing black void, she is led more and more to the places she might have missed, despite the stress that makes her withers jump as the crackles of distant bonfires grow louder.
Here, at least, the air is sweet and touched by sea salt and woodsmoke, and she does not feel like she has to fight for each breath. The stars in her pelt echo the stars in the sky and she feels relaxed underneath them, feels connected to Caligo in a way she cannot place. Kassandra fills her lungs readily but pauses in her path to the fires. There are so many people, talking and laughing and in the throws of conversations... she would hate to spoil anyone's enjoyment by the insertion of her frequently awkward presence. She does, instead, alter her course, heading towards the less populated bar. It is inviting like a tree in fall, as those approaching to bring spirits back to their respective parties fall away when their order is filled.
She finds a spot at the bar next to a strange but beautifully colored equine, with a lion's tufted tail and fuzzy ears that remind her of those pink salamanders, or maybe some rare coral. She catches herself staring a bit, before giving herself a slight shake and turning her eyes to the menu.
(You and alcohol?) Oculos snickers from beside her, head on the swivel as his remarkable vision clues him into potentially falling snacks, (This can only be a bad idea.)
"Hush, you," Kassandra scolds, loving. She studies the menu with such force her tongue sticks out a bit, but she knows nothing about such indulgences and every recipe that may sound good comes with some unknown.
(You, quite literally, have never had a drink in your life,) the Borzoi said, grinning now.
"Well, there is a first time for everything," Kassandra huffs. She turns to the violet stranger beside her. "You seem a bit more familiar here, would you have any advice?"
(Congratulations, you just called a complete stranger a lush,) Oculos said, voice flat. (This is why we don't have any friends.)
"Lush..? Oh! Oh." Kas blushed, her outburst probably seeming out of place for the poor four-eared stranger, who could not hear her Bonded's chastisement. "Forgive me. I simply meant... well, you seem more confident here. Er, in general. My goodness." She lowered her gaze and bit her tongue, hoping the stranger was not too insulted by her folly.
@Rivane | 863 | Why is she like this
