[Paisley Prince]

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i'm the one that

got away

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@paisley Prince

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Prince drummed her fingernails onto the table, trying to hide her impatience but as a matter of fact realizing she had been stood up. She hid her face behind a glass of wine and drained it, quietly fuming. She had gone through all this trouble to get a reservation at Lamoi Osteria, the classiest, most reputable restaurant she could find in her budget range all in order to impress this client. She really needed the business and without them it was just going to be a huge setback for her.
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It was a small restaurant, only about seven tables littered about the entire restaurant, but it was pleasant, small, quiet, run by a good family, and out of the way from the higher traffic restaurants which made it ideal for her purposes. The bill only reflected the costs of such a small scale restaurant trying to foot the rent of the most expensive place in the city, the Cloud District. If only she'd canceled the reservation.
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She huffed, alcohol bitter on her tongue. Glancing out of her eye, fuming at all of these fancy smucks with their inheritances probably didn't think much of spending what was equivalent to a weeks paycheck for her. There was some envy there, a sharp annoyance at the people she tried to surround herself with. But at least she knew how to dress herself. Assholes couldn't even get decent tailors.
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She took a calming breath and ran a hand through her hair, compulsively brushing the strands back into place. She had to take some of the blame for this misfortune. She'd been too excited to say yes, to eager to agree to set up a meeting place only to find that they either forgot or didn't care about her operation. This was legitimately bad news, now she'd need even more time to get her affairs in order to get back to the power she held in Vale. But there was literally nothing Prince could do about it tonight so she just flipped open the menu, looking to buy what was the most expensive item listed.
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If she was going to spend cash, she was going to get her money's worth.
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She flipped a page over, admiring the selection, when she peered over the top of the menu and saw a scrawny looking thug walking down the street. Nothing to see there sure... But let's say Prince was feeling generous tonight.
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"Ah Maitre d'," Prince raised a finger to get the waiters attention "I can see my associate passing by the restaurant, she must have gotten lost on the way here. Could you go and invite her in?"
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An unusual request for sure but the waiter nodded skeptically and stepped outside to hail the brawler down to join Prince for a meal.
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Anticipating someone to share this meal with, the woman clasped her hands, quietly starring through the window, and gives a handsome grin to meet her potential associate. Perhaps it would be enough to give this girl's heart a bit of a start. Prince had that affect on people.
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WC 513 [break]
Colour Hex: 563B64 [break]
Ambition's Fire [E][break]

Diable Savate [F][break]

Hustler's Charm [F][break]

Dancing [F][break]

Martial Arts [F][break]

Stamina [F][break]

Agility [F][break]

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000

Let's try to be professionals about this

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[Aegle Verdant]

The scent of the city filled her nostrils, the Cloud District by evenfall, smelling of damp stone and high mountain crispness, of rain and of earth. A gorgeous aroma for a gorgeous city, whose sights never failed to delight. Since her first week at Haven, it had been Aegle's wont to travel the Cloud District in a never ending exploration of its many breathtaking vistas and exotic locales. Tonight had not disappointed; Aegle had found a rooftop from which overlooked the entire north side of the Mistral mountain. It was a beautiful view, spoiled only slightly when Aegle spotted the length of wall she'd been set to guarding a week prior.

Climbing down had been a challenge though, one far greater than climbing up. Her sides were still sore from her doctor's visit, and they'd made her descent a clumsy one. Aegle fingered one of the deeper bruises through her hoodie, and winced at the stab of pain doing so produced, one that seemed to wrap the whole way around her chest like a lash of fire.
'If that's not a cracked rib, I'm hale and hearty and nine feet tall.' Aegle thought, grinning back the pain. She couldn't be too mad though, she had asked for it after all, all but demanded it in fact. At least this one is where no one can see; Aegle had not wanted to explain another black eye to Carmin.
It was a weird feeling, to know precisely what a cracked rib ought to feel like. Aegle drew a deep breath, all full of that sweet tasting mountain air, and felt the fire coil around her again, more slowly this time, till it held her just as fully encircled. At the last moment, the coil seemed to tighten about her, and Aegle's breath came rushing out in a quiet, hitching cough. She gritted her teeth against the pain, and grinned it back as well, until the accompanying haze had abated. There was something deeply satisfying about doing that, she'd found, like probing the empty gums where a tooth should have been; Grotesque, but strangely irresistible.

Aegle was just minding her own business, wondering why that should be, when a man in evening formal wear came striding hurriedly towards her. She didn't quite flinch away, but the small girl rounded on the stranger before he could get close, a move which made her wince. The well dressed man looked surprised, though he hid it well. They stood in uneasy stalemate for several long seconds, spent eyeing one another. Aegle with cautious curiosity, and the well dressed man with an obvious skepticism.
"Pardon me, but your associate is waiting." He said finally, dutiful as a recording, before gesturing with one elegantly fingered hand towards the small restaurant he'd just come bustling out of. Aegle followed the way he'd pointed and saw a smiling face staring back at her through one of the street side windows. An especially handsome smiling face, at that.
Aegle felt her heart hitch, and a bit of warmth crept up from under the collar of her upraised hood. Her first instinct was that this must be some sort of mistake. Hurriedly, Aegle glanced behind her, then down the street the way she'd been headed, then back up the street the way she'd just come. All, only to find she was alone with the maitre d, the only person who'd stopped to hear him out, the only person he seemed at all interested in. Him, and the face in the window.
Wary, Aegle flicked her eyes back to the maitre d. He seemed about as dubious of this whole situation as she felt, but he was still patiently awaiting her answer.
"Alright." She said, "Let's not keep my associate waitin', yeah?"

She did not cut an especially elegant figure, entering the restaurant. Her hobbled gait lent her limping strides, made almost mechanical by the clockwork whirring that accompanied even the slightest movement. Her orange hoodie, worn and faded, was unwashed following her most recent 'checkup', which meant it had dirt and grit and even something that looked suspiciously like dried blood staining it. Her knuckles too were bloody through their wraps, the results of her evening exercises. With her hood up, it wasn't possible to see the thin layer of brown stubble coming in across her pale pate, rendering her head as absurdly tiny upon her artificially broadened and obviously crooked shoulders. In short, she was pretty much the polar opposite of the person who'd requested her presence of the maitre d.

From outside, Aegle had mistaken her would-be benefactor for a boy, which marked the only point in common which the pair of them had; Aegle had been mistaken for a boy twice since arriving at Haven. Otherwise, the girl seated before her was tall and comparatively broad of shoulder, garbed in a dress shirt which seemed specifically tailored to her dimensions. Her face was more handsome than it was pretty, with eyes somewhere between red and purple, all framed by locks of mauvish hair, which fell in natural order with no apparent style. It was a powerful effect, one which exuded a well constructed magnetism that made her difficult to look away from. It certainly wasn't a face easily forgotten, and so Aegle was quite sure she'd never seen this girl before in her life.
"Yo." Aegle quirked a grin at the stranger, emerald eyes narrowed in careful consideration of her well-put-together tablemate. Some part of her remained sure this was some sort of mistake, a part growing larger with every passing second, but she could not repress a certain curiosity for what this elegant stranger might want from her.
Letting her head hang to one side, as loose on her shoulders as if her neck had been broken, Aegle arched an eyebrow at the stranger. An eyebrow with a freshly healed cut running through it, which still stung a little when she moved it.
"Y'ain't anyone I know," She said finally, still smiling, before she flicked the maitre d a glance, "and yet he seems t'think otherwise. Funny, that..."

words - 1,021

[Paisley Prince]

It was a mystery why Prince had invited the scrawny looking thug passing by the restaurant. The girl definitely stood out from the well dressed crowd although her entrance went ignored for the most part, the diners attention largely contained to their personal table conversations.

In a restaurant like this, no one was really interested in anything outside their bubble, save for a famous or infamous face. Neither quality was found amongst the dinners so the people remained relaxed; the noise level never rising above sounds of the scrapping of forks on plates and amicable conversation. The world inside the restaurant maintained orderly, the dining experience strictly enforced by management who were determined to ensure satisfaction no matter who walked through their doors. While the humdrum of daily life required a certain amount of distraction, eating was a serious business.

Prince’s gaze followed the brawler as she entered the restaurant, looking pleased to see the stranger. The contrast between the two was obvious but if the well dressed woman was concerned she didn’t show it. After all, the invitation was spontaneous and Prince was well aware the girl didn’t have the luxury of time to go get dressed up for the occasion. Perhaps they would trade fashion tips in the following conversation although it was very doubtful that Prince needed advice on how to look good.

“No, I don’t believe we have met before either. Let’s amend that shall we?” Prince extends a confident hand toward Aegle. “My name is Paisley Prince although I go by Prince nowadays. It just has a more regal sound to it, don’t you think?” To the average person this self-proclamation of royalty might have been viewed as nothing less than eccentric but Prince showed no sign of embarrassment in no way whatsoever, her coy smile only adding to the princely persona.

“And how may I refer to you, my newfound companion?” Prince asks with plain curiosity, exuding a legitimate sounding tone.

Once the greetings were made, the first thing Prince does is make herself comfortable, nonchalantly leaning back as she evaluates the curious girl across from her. “May I just say one thing? You are a bold one, aren’t you? I know my request was a bit sudden but you readily agreed to meet me, a random stranger! I do wonder, is that confidence or foolishness?” Prince looks contemplatively but catches herself. “Oh, don’t worry I’m just being asinine. I do appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

That brings them to the reason Prince had extended an invitation in the first place.

She taps her chin, looking somewhat apprehensive for some unspecified reason. “I invited you here because… Well, truth be told I was stood up by someone,” she shakes her head displaying a small degree of embarrassment. “I had gone through the effort to set up a nice reservation at the restaurant, came early to wait for them, and in the end they are a no show. Admittedly, it was a tad embarrassing to go out eating alone… that’s why I saw you and thought, I might as well enjoy it with company. Why let my efforts go to waste after all?

Prince’s face lights up with self-assured pride when she considers her act of kindness, expecting Aegle to appreciate the opportunity to eat at Lamoi Osteria, and seemingly excited to continue a conversation with the girl.

Paisley hands Aegle a red menu, expecting her to take it. “You’ve already accepted my invitation, so why not get something out of it? Pick anything you like, it’s my treat.”

WC 596/1109
Colour Hex: 563B64
Ambition's Fire [E]
Diable Savate [F]
Hustler's Charm [F]
Dancing [F]
Martial Arts [F]
Stamina [F]
Agility [F]

[Aegle Verdant]

"No," said the stranger, confirming Aegle's observation with neither hesitation nor preamble. "I don’t believe we have met before either."
Equally immediate, she offered her hand across the table, "Let’s amend that shall we? My name is Paisley Prince although I go by Prince nowadays."
A sort of self-satisfied look passed over the so-called prince's face, centered around a coyly knowing smirk, "It just has a more regal sound to it, don’t you think? And how may I refer to you, my newfound companion?"

"M'Aegle," Aegle said, "Aegle Verdant. Most everyone calls me Aegle."
She eyed the proffered hand for just a moment longer than she ought've. If Aegle had the chance to punk one person, and only one person, it'd probably be whomever began the custom of handshakes, her aversion to which was near as ingrained as the gesture itself was ubiquitous. There was no polite way to refuse a handshake; That was the worst part. Should Aegle refuse this one, Prince would most assuredly take it amiss, and wonder what perceived contagion had kept Aegle from sharing in such a well worn and civil exchange. No, societal convention had Aegle trapped, as it always did, where handshakes were concerned.
Grinning against her misgivings, Aegle slipped her own hand, swathed from elbow to finger tips in bandaging, out from under the table. Soft tremors made her fingers quiver as she seized hold of Prince's offered palm. She squeezed as tight as she could, which is to say not very tight at all, and shook twice before just as quickly disentangling their grips and slipping the hand back out of sight. Having observed that particular societal ritual, Prince seemed content. Aegle, for her part, went on doing her best to conceal how much she disliked the practice.

Leaning back in her seat, Prince eyed Aegle with an almost impertinent interest, just as though she were trying to tally the worth of the crooked girl seated across from her. Aegle, far from unused to such looks, crooked grin at the older girl, one which turned her expression into something of a leer.
"May I just say one thing?" Prince said finally, ending the silence betwixt them. Hardly able to stop Prince, even if she'd wanted to, Aegle merely tipped her head to one side in silent invitation for her regal benefactor to say whatever she may.
"You are a bold one, aren’t you? I know my request was a bit sudden but you readily agreed to meet me, a random stranger!"
Taking on a pensive air, Prince mused, "I do wonder, is that confidence or foolishness?"
That quirked Aegle's grin a tiny bit wider, till she was almost showing off every one of her teeth. Prince, seemingly becoming aware of her faux-pas, dismissed her own question.
"Oh, don’t worry I’m just being asinine. I do appreciate you coming on such short notice."
"S'good t'be appreciated," Aegle allowed sardonically, "Whether for confidence or foolishness."
She wondered why Prince had asked her over. Having strayed dangerously close to insulting with that last comment, Aegle could not dismiss the possibility that she was intended as some erstwhile entertainment for the older girl.
'And what if I am? What'll I do 'bout it?' Aegle silently asked herself, knowing full well that she was likely to do absolutely nothing about it. She recalled the last time she'd been in a fancy place like this one, and how dangerously close to losing her temper she'd gotten, and just how little the outburst had availed her. If Prince planned something similar, Aegle was sure she'd take it on the chin and make her exit. She was sure she'd let Prince get away with it.

Prince seemed to sense Aegle's wandering thoughts, "I invited you here because, well," A flash of reluctance, maybe even discomfort, briefly marred her handsome expression, "Truth be told I was stood up by someone. I had gone through the effort to set up a nice reservation at the restaurant, came early to wait for them, and in the end they are a no show."
Prince shook her head disbelievingly, as if to ask who could treat her in so uncouth a fashion.
"Admittedly," She continued, "It was a tad embarrassing to go out eating alone. That’s why I saw you and thought, I might as well enjoy it with company. Why let my efforts go to waste after all?"
Again, Prince's face lit up with evident self-satisfaction, though Aegle was not convinced she'd earned it. She made it sound like Aegle was some trifling amusement, a balm to sooth her injured pride, wanted less for Aegle's own worth and more to maintain some personal image. Aegle did not like the idea of being someone else's accessory; She might not have had much to be proud of, but she had enough self-respect to call Jackdaw out on his bullshit when he'd refused to serve her.
'Yeah, and how'd that work out for ya?' Asked a voice in the depths of her mind, one that sounded unsettling near her own, 'If Theia hadn't happened by and taken pity on you, y'still wouldn't have made it past that impassive old crow.'
Prince, still smirking her self-satisfaction, handed over a board of red leather and smooth, almost glossy paper. A menu, Aegle thought.
"You’ve already accepted my invitation, so why not get something out of it? Pick anything you like, it’s my treat."
'She's taken it for granted that I'll eat with her.' Aegle thought, before that second voice, much like her own, sneered 'Of course she does. She could call me a buffoon t'my face, and I'd still eat with her.'
She took the offered menu.

An arcane formula of words and ingredients sprang off the page at her, familiar only because she'd seen some of them on the menu when she'd had supper with Theia. Unlike with Theia, however, Aegle could not quite bring herself to admit ignorance in Prince's hearing. Also, unlike with Theia, Aegle noticed the prices of each dish and felt her stomach drop out.
"Awfully charitable." Aegle observed, grinning greenly. None of them were quite as expensive as the Vytal Ensemble had been, but everything was still well outside of her means as an academy trainee. She wondered if she'd not been a bit hasty in judging Prince; Whatever the other girl's motives might have been, it would be an especially expensive evening for her.
Aegle, who had been holding the menu in both hands, flung the board up onto the table before her and rolled her head pensively to one side, without taking her eyes off the handsome girl seated across from her.
'This is what a few weeks at Haven's done t'me, then?' she thought with a crooked grin, 'Already, I'm hatin' myself so much that I can't believe someone'd be kind t'me, just for the sake of it.'
It wasn't fair; Not to herself, and certainly not to Prince. She'd met so many amazing people at Haven, and she was distancing herself from all of them, and what for? Because she was weak and useless? Prince didn't know that. Prince didn't know a damned thing about her. Prince was just being kind to a stranger, because someone had been unkind to her.
"Y'know what?" Aegle said, reaching up to drum her clumsy fingers on the menu board, "I feel I like you. I think y'alright. I reckon I'll enjoy havin' supper with you."
She made herself say those words, if only she could make such honesty a habit, if only she could have the nerve to be so forthright all the time, it'd make things so much easier.
"I reckon it's their loss, whoever it was that stood ya up."
Aegle's eyes sparkled, and briefly flicked to the tabletop. Her hand unfurled, and trembling fingers gestured to the menu's contents.
"None've that means anythin' t'me, yeah? S'all just words I don't know the meanin' of, y'know? All with fancy names I can't pronounce." She heaved a difficult shrug, "Does any of it mean 'a big n'juicy steak'? Preferably with some roasted veg? Cause I'll have that."
Eyes still sparkling, Aegle added, "As y'can likely tell, I'm a simple girl. Easy t'please, yeah?"

words - 1,373

[Paisley Prince]

“A pleasure, Aegle Verdant” nodded Prince as she shook her hand, glad to put a name to a face. So far the introduction was going swimmingly and it seemed that Prince would be more than glad to have her company. The handshake had a little bit to be desired but it wasn’t that big of a deal breaker.

"S'good t'be appreciated. Whether for confidence or foolishness,” Aegle declares half-humorously, not being completely forthright with her trust, but at the very least withholding her judgement of Prince for the time being.

The dry wit of Aegle’s statement brought out a smart laugh from Prince. “I’m no different there,” she chuckles.

“Awfully charitable...” Aegle drones upon discovering the prices listed on the menu with a bit of shock at the numbers. When Prince first saw the prices she certainly felt a similar way and was glad to see the costs acknowledged as such. Having such expensive tastes was a hard habit to keep up and Prince wanted her effort to be recognised.

Prince tilted her head, privately weighing that statement in her mind. While Prince saw herself as the generous benefactor in this exchange, she did not believe “charity” was one of her personal virtues. Or maybe it was and Aegle was just the person to bring that quality out of her. That crooked smile did wonders for the girl’s looks after all, made her seem quite the character. Prince merely nods along to Aegle’s ramblings.

"Y'know what? I feel I like you. I think y'alright. I reckon I'll enjoy havin' supper with you." Aegle admits with some internal struggle, seemingly warming up to Prince’s eccentricities.

Prince clasps her hands with joy, pleased by Aegle’s kind response. It was good to be appreciated once in a while. “That’s the spirit! Good things come to you when you are open minded to what the world has to offer!” says Prince with enthusiasm. “I hope to prove to you that getting to know me will be worth it.”

She smiled approvingly at Aegle’s choice of dish. “Excellent choice, my dear. And I completely agree with you! A nice fat steak is just the thing if you’re going to a restaurant like this! I’ll get one for myself as well.”

“Oh and please, don’t say you’re ‘easy’” Prince smiles, “The things we want in life are always difficult to come by. Don’t worry too much and enjoy it to the best you can.”

Prince felt oddly proud of Aegle for correctly identifying the best thing to order. The prime steak was a status symbol of the wealthy, lauded for the expert presentation and atypical costs it was associated with. Offered at restaurants from all classes but more associated with five star establishments, the prime steak was a good indicator of the diner’s excellent taste. While the composition was straightforward the simplicity of the steak was only appreciated when you consider the finer details of the dish. For one to eat a tenderloin steak it proved that they could afford to select the most valuable and thus most expensive part of the animal to eat and avoid any complicated food processing that was associated with cost reduction. Additionally, the simple preparation process was a good demonstration of the chef's skill to evoke the authentic taste of the cut, a skill highly valued for good reason. A rich steak was more than mere slab of meat cooked over a hot grill, it was the best that life had to offer.

Prince waved a waiter order and belayed her order. “Yes we will having two Porterhouse steaks, both medium rare of course,” Prince interrupts her own train of thought to look over to Aegle. “Certainly never order a steak “well done”. Eugh. You simply can’t trust people who order their steaks like that.”

It was a ridiculous concept that Prince denounced. “Well done” indeed. Ordering as such only revealed which people couldn’t appreciate the steak for what it was. Some folks just didn’t realize that “rare” meant that the steak was cooked above the minimum requirement for the dish to be considered food safe. The flavour of a rare steak was incomparable to any other method of preparation. Once a steak was made “well done” the taste of the meat would simply dull in your mouth and would be practically ruined at that point. Medium-rare was definitely the way to go.

“And, let’s see, I’ll also get a plate of charcuterie, about thirty ounces, and we’ll share a bottle of Mistrallian red wine. I mean, you don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. Red is a good pairing for the steak though.” Prince added monotonically, considering the items in turn and anticipating the arrival of both.

The waiter takes the menus and leaves the two girls to their private booth. Prince leans her elbows on the table and smiles to her companion. “While we wait, let’s get to know a little bit about each other. I’ll go first,” Prince announces. ”I’ve been in Mistral for a few weeks now and am trying to get to know the city a little better. You seem well travelled, have you heard of the Peeky Blinders, or the Ivory Brigadiers? It is a little interest of mine.”

While Prince held the assumption that this information might be familiar they weren’t exactly household names, though Aegle might know them if she watched the news with some regularity.

WC: 905 / TWC: 2014
Colour Hex: 563B64
Ambition's Fire [E]
Diable Savate [F]
Hustler's Charm [F]
Dancing [F]
Martial Arts [F]
Stamina [F]
Agility [F]

[Aegle Verdant]

Having confessed her ignorance, Aegle was more than happy to let Prince order for her. The handsome girl seemed well acquainted with the establishment and its menu, and would doubtless know the best manner by which to order her steak. She was not disappointed. Though Aegle personally couldn't taste much of a difference between rare, medium-rare, and medium, she too agreed that 'Well-Done' was a crime against good taste. Her father ordered his steaks well-done, and then proceeded to absolutely slather them in sauce, Aegle supposed, to keep his order from being dry as charcoal. Admittedly, Aegle's father also hated beef, and would sooner have chicken or vegetables, but his preference for cremated meat remained a baffling one to her.
Aegle considered correcting Prince when the other girl ordered a bottle of wine to go with their meal, but stopped herself at the penultimate moment. She'd never had wine before, after all, and you only lived once.

With the orders made, Prince once again turned her attention upon Aegle. Striking an inquisitive pose, the older girl leaned forward onto her elbows, as if to give her tablemate a closer look.
"While we wait," She purred in syrupy tones, "Let’s get to know a little bit about each other."
"Er, sure, I guess." Aegle replied, ambivalently.
"I’ll go first," Prince said, with a sort of poised eagerness, "I’ve been in Mistral for a few weeks now and am trying to get to know the city a little better." Her eyes wandered the girl seated across from her, appraising and attentive.
"You seem well traveled," She said after a moment, -Aegle was not actually, far from it in fact, but did not immediately correct her hostess-, "Have you heard of the Peeky Blinders, or the Ivory Brigadiers? It is a little interest of mine."
Aegle thought for the moment, then shook her head, "Nah, don't ring any bells. What, they some bands or somethin'? I don't really pay much attention t'music."
Despite how two of her closest friends at Haven were musicians, Aegle herself was about as ignorant on the subject as she was on most things. She lived a very sedentary existence, and had done for quite some time. Most things that weren't wholly necessary to her time at the Academy went beneath her notice. This included the names and doings of any criminal organizations that might have called Mistral home, even the especially well known ones. Having never strayed much beyond the Cloud District, Aegle had yet to be introduced to Mistral's infamous criminal underbelly.

words - 425

[Paisley Prince]

If Prince is disappointed by this response she doesn’t let it show. She just nods and smiles very patiently to Aegle. “That’s a good guess but they are most certainly not the musical type of people. If you need to know, the Blinders and Brigades are small time criminals and have got a bit of an obvious presence in the ground district,” Prince admits. “Currently, my job is to find out everything I can about them. Like a detective.”

“Word has gotten around and I kind of assumed you would know about it. I mean, I saw you had bandages around your injuries so I thought you might have been something of a brawler.” Prince gestures to her own ribs, whilst eyeing Aegle’s knuckle wrappings ” Although I suppose that’s no business of mine where you got those wounds.”

The injured state that Aegle had arrived in was a detail that Prince had noticed only recently, putting together the limp and the touchyness with the ribs. Prince puts her hands up to signify it didn’t dignify a response from Aegle. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she says, not wanting to scare her away.

The Peeky Blinders and Ivory Brigade were most certainly not the names of Mistrallian music bands and Prince was surprised to hear them as such. It was a forgivable mistake and at least it revealed that Aegle was not familiar with the small time street gangs of the Ground District. Still, it might have been a clever way to hide the fact she knew as such. From experience she knew that there was always the possibility that people knew more than they let on. Prince gave Aegle another look over and dismissed that assumption.

For a moment she allows herself to imagine the Peeky Blinders as an indie rock band, complete with instruments and tacky t-shirts. Now that she thought about it, Peeky Blinders would have been pretty catchy names for a music artist.

What was meant to be a short fantasy had expanded into a much greater enterprise. Prince had privately begun to calculate the risks and rewards of the average band in Mistral which was a pretty good place for musicians to get noticed, it being the capital for the arts after all and Mistrallians did love their music. Famous music artists did make a lot of money compared to the effort they put in, at least, for the particularly talented and incredibly successful ones. There was a lot of money in advertisements and merchandising that it would be a great opportunity to invest in the music industry if the chance arose. Despite the ridiculousness of it all, Prince started to see dollar signs. If only she knew any musicians. It would have to be an entrepreneur opportunity for another day.


Prince returns back to reality and turns her attention to to Aegle. “Not a music fan? Shame. It would have been nice to share our music tastes,” Prince sighs but then looks to Aegle with a smile. “Is there anything you are currently into? Movies, comics, or anything really. I want to know what excites you, gets you out of bed in the morning. Name the big thing in your life thing that drives you.”

The waiter would interrupt the conversation, setting down a plate of charcuterie which displayed a wide array of cured meats and fancy cheeses, as well as an unopened bottle of wine. The steaks were still in the kitchen and would arrive soon after,

WC 589 / TWC 2603
Colour Hex: 563B64

[Aegle Verdant]

"That’s a good guess," Prince said, though her indulgent smile suggested it was anything but, "But they are most certainly not the musical type of people. If you need to know, the Blinders and Brigades are small time criminals and have got a bit of an obvious presence in the ground district."
Aegle's eyebrows rose in a paroxysm of surprise; Plainly, she never would have guessed. It hardly seem the sort of thing one discussed over dinner, and raised a number of intriguing questions about her erstwhile hostess, only one of which Prince as in any hurry to answer.
"Currently," She said, her smile giving next to nothing away, "My job is to find out everything I can about them. Like a detective."
'Like' a detective, but not actually a detective, Aegle did not fail to understand. What kind of job might require her to gather information on a criminal organization, the crooked girl could not even fathom, but it didn't sound especially safe as a vocational choice.

Prince, evidently deciding to expound a little further, elaborated, "Word has gotten around and I kind of assumed you would know about it. I mean," She touched her own ribs gently, never taking her eyes off of Aegle's hands, "I saw you had bandages around your injuries so I thought you might have been something of a brawler."
Curling her fingers into fists, Aegle slipped her hands beneath the table and out of sight. There was no way to do it subtly, so she stared at Prince right in the face instead. She'd almost forgotten about her hands, and was not exactly thrilled that her companion had taken such a keen interest in them.
Prince was unperturbed however.
"Although I suppose that's no business of mine, where you got those wounds."

That quite thoroughly killed the conversation, and it lay dead between them for some time there after. Aegle, for her part, was still parsing everything Prince had said. Namely, how the other woman had suggested that Aegle's rough appearance some how equated to small time criminality. She'd not come right out and said it, of course, but the implications were there. She wondered just what sort of person her handsome hostess had taken her for. Did she think Aegle some sort of hoodlum? Had she, so believing, invited a hoodlum to sup with her, with the intention of plying her for information about the gangs that called Mistral home. How did she feel about that, Aegle wondered. As far as assessments went, it couldn't have possibly been any further from the reality, that Aegle was about as sheltered as they came and, while certainly not so dutiful a student nor daughter as she might have been, was certainly not the type to start fights for no reason or get mixed up with criminals of any sort. She'd never even been in a fight for fun until earlier that week, and Carmin had damn near taken her arm off, twisting it out of her.

'S'a strange feelin', realizin' I could be someone or somethin' else, and she'd never know it. I needn't even say she's wrong, I needn't correct her, and she'll go on believin' in a version of me which never existed.' It was a funny thought, one which took some of the sting out of being mistaken for some commonplace thug.
'How's that any different from how I really am though? Am I really so brave and upbeat as Mommy and Daddy believe? Really as happy as I pretend t'be around Carmin? How real is the real me? Is Aegle, the optimistic cripple, any less real than Aegle the thug?'
She could make them equally real, or equally fictitious. She need only play a part. She wouldn't even have to lie, per se, only not tell the truth, and suddenly there would be a new Aegle in the world, one who exists only for Prince.
A funny thought, and a strange one.
'Sometimes I worry 'bout myself.' Aegle thought, grinning.

"Not a music fan?" Prince asked abruptly, ending the silence between them as a hammer blow ends a pane of glass, "Shame. It would have been nice to share our music tastes. Is there anything you are currently into? Movies, comics, or anything really. I want to know what excites you, gets you out of bed in the morning. Name the big thing in your life thing that drives you."
'Currently into?' Aegle thought, 'That's a weird way of askin' it.'
It was almost like Prince had anticipated Aegle's line of thought, but she knew that couldn't possibly have been the case. It was just a random coincidence that what she asked fell so thematically near to the question which Aegle had been considering.
"Used t'watch a lot of action movies and shows." Aegle said, deciding simply to be honest with Prince. As much as the idea of making a 'new' Aegle intrigued her, so was a creature of habit, and honesty, in words if not necessarily in actions, was one of her most ingrained habits.
"Stuff my brothers watched, yeah? My one brother, he's the youngest but he's still older n' me, also used to keep a collection of comics, what I read as well. S'mostly action as well." Come to think of it, a lot of the media available in Atlas, not merely that she'd watched or read, was action oriented. Her home had a real culture of strong, dependable characters taking the initiative to fight some great over arching threat.
"Though there was this one... S'bout this fighter who wants to fight in this big tournament. 'Cept he can't afford the equipment. So, y'know, he enters without it, and beats all the competition what could afford the equipment anyway." Aegle grinned; She'd always really like that one. It's themes hadn't been quite like those common to most Atlesian media. The main character wasn't some honorable patriot, but a rebellious underdog, deadset on winning the tournament for no one other than himself.

"I don't watch or read that stuff much anymore though," Aegle confessed. Watching TV and reading comics were the things you did, when you weren't strong enough to do much else, "Now, I spend most've my time trainin'. She tipped her head to the side, just in case Prince had failed to notice the sleek white bandaid along the side of her jaw, "S'where the injuries came from, if y'were wonderin'. Never learn anythin' if y'ain't willin' t'shed a bit of blood, y'know?"

Before she could finish her thought though, a waiter showed up with a platter of cold cuts and cheeses. Aegle gave the spread a puzzled look, as it was set before them. It most certainly was not a rare steak. Still, her stomach growled, and she reached out to risk a bite or ttwo, gathering up pieces of cured meat and cheese in her fingers. She had almost to clutch multiple cuts at a time, finding the act of plucking up individual slices too demanding of her trembling fingers.

Slouching back, Aegle nibbled at one of the things she grabbed. It was good, if a bit dry.
"Don't really reckon there's something what gets me out'a bed in the mornin' though." If anything, the grueling regime of exercise, training, and practice made it hard for her to get up some days. Some days, when she remembered that none of it really mattered, and the world wouldn't end if she didn't train. Those days were the hardest.
Aegle gnawed on another cut of meat, and eyed her had thoughtfully. She'd been looking for a very long time for a reason to get out of bed. She'd been asking for one ever since she was ten, the last time she'd been able to get out of bed unassisted. She'd yet to find one, and nobody seemed to have one to offer.
"I reckon that maybe I'm just stubborn, yeah? S'that, more 'n anythin' else what gets me out of bed, y'know?"

Aegle swallowed another mouthful of cured meat, and looked across the table to Prince. "S'probably not the excitin' answer y'were hopin' for. Maybe you can give me a better one. What gets you out of bed?"

---

words - 1,375

[Paisley Prince]

It was hard to say whether Prince was inconsiderate or simply too sharp tongued for her own good. The pragmatist would likely say it was a combination of both, given how Prince’s devious ways now becoming clearly evident. She was perhaps not so discreet about what she wanted from Aegle, her line of questioning underlying an obvious prod for information.

Prince watches the shift in the girls body language from a tentative openness to a cautious guard. Uncharacteristically, Prince feels a pang of guilt, not quite prepared for this reaction. Truthfully she had not expected this kind of effect her words had caused which seemed to be a trend for her. There was a pause in the conversation that she was forced to recognize and for a moment, Prince loosened her neck tie, feeling somewhat abashed at her actions.

Perhaps it was the company she had found herself with in the past that gave her this expectation. It simply hadn’t occurred to her until now that talk of violence at the dinner table would be something that tended to be ill-received by most people. She still hadn’t recognized what trait in Aegle warranted this reaction but the following answer revealed it to her soon enough.

Still clinging to fantasies of fictional prize fighters, Aegle sought out a sense of certainty and vigor for life that was inherent among the underdog protagonists in her comics. Add to the fact that she clearly saw herself as the underdog in her own story it was a heart wrenching anecdote that wrought out some small sympathy from Prince.

Prince was now learning that the injuries Aegle sported came from the training she subjected herself too. She mentally catalogues the white bandage on the brawlers jaw, something she had caught on but now had a better idea of the source of injury. Aegle wasn’t some meager contestant of a local street brawl that Prince had incorrectly assumed. Aegle was an ambitious, driven person that wasn’t content with the life she was given and was willing to beat herself up for that life she sought.

Prince turned to Aegle and her eyes flashed with a sharp emotion that hinted at a new awareness. And Prince gave her reply.

“I can share your appreciation for those kinds of stories. The underdog character is one that hits home to a lot of people, including myself,” Prince says with a cool tone. “An individual is faced with a force far greater than themselves but through the hard work and determination of that person leads them to greater heights…”

Prince’s tone grows a little hotter, growing fiery. “And it isn’t as though the underdog has not tried to be content with the life they’ve been given, nor failed to recognize the impossible tasks they are attempting by challenging the champion. But what makes the underdog admirable is that they are relentless despite everything they are against.”

She flicks her eyes up to Aegle, conveying an affinity with the girl. “You could try to live quietly, take the easy road. But you sacrifice the comforts of a quiet life, get out of bed everyday to keep on fighting despite the massive odds against you.”

“I can respect that,” Prince says, giving Aegle a genuine smile. “I think I understand you a little better now. Thank you for that.”

“What gets me out of bed in the morning? The specifics change day by day but all my efforts are to achieve my one true goal, at least, hopefully they do. I… want that grand lifestyle of the rich and entitled. To live like a ‘king’, in a gold mansion. Right now my financial situation isn’t what I would like… but one day I hope to be earning enough to be living in comfort and bliss, where I can afford to eat like this everyday,” she says cheerily, raising a glass to eye level.

“I don’t mind if its hard. Maybe at the end of it all I’d want something else. But I’m not content with living a small life. I want to try my hardest for something that I’ve been told has been out of my reach… Perhaps not the noblest of goals but that’s what drives me. So now you know”

The waiter would arrive the the two medium steaks and placed in front of the two of them. Prince would take a more conversational tone as she looked on excitedly at the presented dishes. “Ah finally. Looks expertly done, wouldn’t you agree? Let’s dig in, shall we?”

WC 757 / TWC 3360
Colour Hex: 563B64

[Aegle Verdant]

"I reckon havin' any sorta reason's good enough, so long as it's one y'can believe in." Aegle mused, remarking on Prince's ignoble goal with a certain jealousy. Having yet to find any real reason for her own life, she wished she could have found her own purpose as easily or confidently as the well dressed woman apparently had. Besides which, there seemed nothing inherently wrong with wanting to be rich. It might not have been a goal Aegle could believe in herself, but then her views on the acquiring wealth were skewed by circumstances which Prince's own life clearly did not mirror. How differently might Aegle's own goals have been, were she not forced, by necessity, to view things on a much shorter time scale.

'A pointless sorta question,' Aegle thought as she tucked into her steak, sawing a big juicy piece from the still bloody slab, "As soon wonder what I'd be like if I'd never gotten sick.'
But she could not help but try to imagine it, what may have been if her life had gone a different way.
'If it could go on a little longer...'
How different would she have been if she could have had even one more year as a normal girl, before everything had changed? What difference might even a decade have made? What would Aegle Verdant have been like, if she'd lived a life where the acquisition of a small fortune could have been a reasonable and practical life goal?

Aegle had used such thoughts to torture herself before, and there could be no other word for such masochistic questions. There was nothing wistful or charming about wondering how her life could have been better, especially not when all chances for that betterment had passed her by. There was no point in dwelling on the past, when all that could have been done had been, and where things could only ever have turned out the way they had. Yet, like picking at a scab or prodding, with her tongue, at the empty space where once there'd been a tooth, Aegle did it in spite of how unpleasant it felt, and perhaps even because of how much it hurt.

She looked down at her steak. More than half of it was gone and she'd barely tasted any of it.
'Now, aint that a fittin' metaphor,' She thought, and her lips twitched up in a grin, 'So wrapped up in feelin' sorry for myself, that I've wasted half of it.'
Laying her fork and knife aside, Aegle looked at fingers which had been holding them, at the thick bandages and twitching digits. She felt a sudden need to say something, though she did not know what.
"You're lucky, y'know?" She said finally, emerald eyes lifting up from the tragic remnants of what had once been her hands, her constant reminder of everything she'd lost. Coming from her, such a claim could be a really loaded statement, so Aegle hastily clarified her meaning.
"Everyone's lookin' for a reason, I reckon, even if they don't know it, and you've found yours. That's all that matters. Good or bad, I dunno which it is, but you're lucky just for knowin' what y'want and bein' willin' t'go after it."

Aegle's grin softened into a slight smile, and her eyes fell again. She shrugged, with some difficulty, and looked back down at her steak.
"I dinnae, but I reckon that's a fine sorta thing, aye? I reckon I've already said so, but that it bears repeatin'; You're lucky, and no mistake, havin' some sorta purpose and knowin' why..."
Trailing off, Aegle shook her head and took up her fork again. Probably Prince thought she was particularly foolish for say aught she had, likely so sophisticated a woman as her didn't need approval from someone so crooked, twisted and naive as she was.
"Never mind me, yeah?" She said, taking up her fork once again, and plucking up a sauteed mushroom, "I say all sorts of stupid stuff, most of the time without even knowin' what I'm talkin' 'bout. Reckon I'm half-mad half the time, with aught what comes out'a my mouth."
She popped the mushroom into her mouth and chewed, and savored the its savory flavor, determined that, having already wasted half of it, that she would enjoy what remained of her meal.

---

words - 729
total - 4,923

[Wolfe]

XP Distribution

Prince: 33

81 + 33 = 114

Aegle: 49

308 + 49 = 357