The new recruit (open)

((Just my way to introduce my two characters to you and to each other. If anyone wants in at some point, just contact me and we will make it happen ))

Rozan

“So, are you going?” Rozan considered the question for a moment, and then nodded. “Sure thing I am going, can’t disappoint my mother now, can I?” – “Nah, figure you can’t.”

Wezan, Rozan’s best friend, grinned foolishly and used the stick in his hand to poke into the mud. They sat in a corner of the training yard that had been reserved for the Fire Lord’s personal guards, both sweaty and exhausted, but very much pleased with themselves, Wezan dressed only in some trousers, Rozan with full leather armour and his double broadsword next to him. While Wezan was still training his advanced earth bending moves, being a bender who was very late discovered and who was therefore in a bitter lack of training, Rozan had used the opportunity to teach himself a few moves that would help him as a swordsman against an earthbender – not the easiest thing to do. Now they were both in desperate need for a pause, having practiced for over two hours without stopping.
“I don’t know if I had it in me to go, were I at your place.” Wezan now stated, still poking with his stick in the mud. “Jus’ saying, I mean, you like really hate that guy.” Rozan rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, I don’t hate him. I just… I wish one had the opportunity to select ones brothers in law by hand.”
Wezan started to laugh, loudly, and patted on Rozan’s shoulder. “Gosh, that would be hard on your sisters, just imagine, four brothers and all of them get to pick on your future husband. They’d never have gotten married that way.”
Rozan grimaced. “Yeah, whatever, Wezan,” but then the humour of the sentence got to him and he could not but laugh as well. “You’re really stupid, you know that?” Wezan laughed even harder, and then just coughed “Look in a mirror, fool” before being knocked over by his best friend, and rolling in the mud, still laughing, earth all over his naked upper body.

---

It was very early on the next morning, the first birds sang in the trees and the teashops were still closed, while the first good smells ascended from the bakeries. Rozan stepped out of the guard’s headquarters, turned right, and slowly walked down the street. He wore civil clothing now, a long blue cloak attired with a silver brooch with a carved in dragon and polardog, the sigil of his house, the house of Shang – water and fire, bonded for life.
Underneath that cloak he wore elegant black leather trousers, tight enough to sit properly, but lose enough to not make him look like a wimp. The tunic he wore above was made of green silk, with red embroideries at the sleeves, front and back, a costly, but rather plain garment, compared to what his sisters would be wearing. He had strapped the dagger his father had given him to his hip, a very expensive piece with a hilt that ended in a massive red stone and was ornamented with golden inlays.
As always when he was this dressed up, he felt completely foolish and out of place, but he had even shaved in order to make his mother proud. Being there today and looking his best were the two things she had asked of him, and he had tried to obey her wishes.

His parents’ city-residence was in the inner ring of the capital, an old fashioned mansion with a four-sided roof, a large flight of stairs in the front and a garden on its back that would better be described as a small park, including a lake one could easily use to swim in in summer – or in any other season, as far as Rozan’s mother, Eleynja of the Southern Water Tribe, was concerned. Although he had basically grown up here and in their main residence in the Fire Nation Colonies, he was still a bit intimidated by the huge front door and the statues beside it, a polardog and a dragon, of equal size.

When he stepped inside, he was greeted by his mother, who just happened to come down in the front hall as he arrived. As if she knew I was coming, he thought, embracing her tiny, dainty figure from above. She has become so fragile, he wondered, remembering her pure strength and energy that had always made her seem taller than she in fact was. It seemed as if the death of his father had taken something from her, some inner greatness that had been their love and now had faded away.
She pushed him away a little bit, holding him in her arms before her, measuring his every feature with a stern expression. “How is it, son?” Her eyes, nevertheless, were as sharp as ever. “How is your training going? Are you alright? Do you eat enough?” He smiled at the first and nodded at the two others, suppressing a grin. Mother would always worry, it was just who she was. “And besides, any luck with the girls?” He had expected that question, and it needed no answer, she just sighed and nodded, seeing right through him. “Young man, it is time I got some grandchildren, don’t you think?” He grinned broadly. “Oh, Mother, you have Katena and Goralia for that – and Terzan and Nuran and – “ – “Shush!” she stopped him before he could go on. “Don’t you dare tell me your siblings’ names. I know all of you perfectly well with strengths and weaknesses, I gave birth to you, after all. I want some grandchildren of you, too.”

They entered the dining room together, where a grand breakfast had been prepared for them. “It is good to have you home,” his mother concluded casually, but he knew she meant every syllable of it. “It is good to be home.” he responded, and the smiled at each other.

“Rozan!” the shriek came unexpected, but Rozan did not even flinch, he just whirled around and opened his arms wide. The youngest, Railja, just rushed into them, burying her head on his shoulder and whispering “Thank the spirits you are here, Katena is driving me CRAZY.” He grinned, as the stopped embracing, and muzzled through her hair as he always used to do. A smile of their mother told them, that she had not heard Railja’s words or at least pretended she had not.

While they had their breakfast, Rozan was quiet and listened to his little sister rambling on and on, about her teachings and her water bending training and how much she missed him, and what her friends were up to and that she had a new cute dress and, and, and… until the door to the room opened again and two people came in. Rozan catched a look of his mother’s lifted eyebrows and obeyed the unspoken command, standing up and moving towards them in order to greet them. “Brother in law Kensei, it is an honour to be in your presence once again. Katena, sister, how are you?” He bowed in front of the stern man and kissed his sister’s fingertips, before facing them again. Kensei was a seasoned man of about forty years, stern, polite, and in his whole attire very sure of his worth, wearing himself like a crown to humanity, while Katena had reached her early thirties, an equally stern woman with the first few strands of grey in her ebony hair, the first wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth, the hair drawn back to a strict knot and her gown a straight, uncreased piece of blue satin, completely sure of her morals and duties.
Alone standing in the same room with the two of them was depressing for Rozan. He felt their eyes on his clothing, sharp, piercing, judging eyes. “You have grown again, Rozan.” His sister Katena finally said - funnily, since he knew well enough that he had not grown since she last had seen him, he was too old to grow further - “You look more and more like a bully.” – “You, however, Katena, look as young as a freshly plucked moonflower, lovely as ever,” he responded at once, having sensed the critical comment from her side and giving her the (at least to the outside) polite side blow, concerning her aging so much sooner than their mother had. Railja snorted in her tea, suppressing any loud laughter, and at once being reminded by their mother, that her behaviour was not that of a proper lady.

Rozan exchanged looks with Railja, but before he could sit back down, his brother in law had already started to talk, every syllable so heavy with importance, that one might think he was at least a king. “I see you are still dressed like a bandit, younger brother,” Kensei intoned, as if it were dreadful for him to see this disgraceful branch of the Shang family. “Don’t they teach you any respect in the Fire Lord’s guards? Or any discipline, for that matter?”
No, they teach us to kill our opponents with one single blow, Rozan thought, but he just smiled and heard himself respond: “I am sorry you will have to cope with my lousy attire, Kensei, but unfortunately all my other clothes had blood on them.”

With this, knowing he had really upset the other man by his improper behaviour, he turned around and joined his mother and smaller sister at the breakfast table, catching Eleynja’s hard look and knowing that he would be in trouble later – having done the one thing she asked him not to do – piss off his brother in law before they even started eating. This was going to be a long day.

Lahija

Lahija inhaled and dived in deep. Smooth, soft water closed her in, cooled every fibre of her body, shut out all the noises, all the emotions, all the sorrows.
Down here, she was at peace. Stroke, stroke, stroke – her agile, slender body glided through the cool, soothing wet element, and she stayed down as long as she could, until her lungs ached with the need of air and small stars had started to light up before her eyes.
Then she finally emerged, water splashing all around her, felt the warmth of the summer air on her body, the coolness of every drop of water on her naked skin, and it all rushed back into her mind, while she stroke her short black hair back behind her ears.
The burial, the dozens of people whom she had never met and who told her how sorry they were for her loss… bla bla bla… the gossip, going on, and on, and on, her mother, in tears, broken, all her strength gone with her husband, onto that pyre, eliminated by flames just like his mortal form.

Lahija inhaled again, and dived in even deeper, shutting it all out, all off again… but she could not stay down forever.
And it all streamed back, just like the water streamed off her body. The duty, the honour, the memory. Lahija was sick of duty, honour and memories. And since it did not help half as much as it usually did, for today, she was also sick of swimming.
A few strong strokes brought her out to the riverbank, and she pulled herself up, rested shortly and safely on shore, using her inner chi to warm her body up, so that it dried itself, and still steaming, she got dressed again – plain, leather and linen clothing, some boots, and her knife. Tomorrow would be her first day on her new assignment as a royal guard. She hoped she would not blow it up, everyone seemed to expect so much of her. Everyone? Well, her mother sure did, and based on the many, many people at her father’s burial, so did a lot of mother’s friends. Lee was dead. Father was dead. She was all her mum had left. Time to get started and bring some honour to her house.

Lahija, however, was not in the mood to return home just yet. She could not stand her mother’s friends, their endless coming and going and gossiping and mindless jibberjabber over the stupidest things – maybe to cheer her mother up, but Lahija was quite certain, they were rather interested in the scandalous daughter, the silent one, that was less skilled than her deceased twin brother.
Well, screw you, screw all of you – Lee is dead, and I am still here. I have to cope with this pain all the time; I don’t need any of you wretches to remind me of it!
Her decision was sudden, but like all her decisions, final. She would go for a drink – something she usually avoided – and she would embrace the possibility to move out of her mother’s house next thing in the morning, when she reported for duty.

Rozan

When they finally stood up from the breakfast table, Railja looked tired again, Kensei had not only recommended Rozan to buy a few more fitting garments and had also told him which tailors to go to and which ones to better avoid, before telling him that it seemed fairly strange that Rozan had not yet been promoted after serving in the Fire Lord’s personal guard for over a year and a half now, and then asking how the fire bending practice was going, as he had heard that Rozan wasn’t a full master yet.
He then suspected that the promotion might be given to full masters of their element, ones that actually spent their time practicing and socializing in a proper circle of acquaintances. When he generously proposed to introduce Rozan to some of his friends in order to help him out, Rozan was done. Yes, his friends were mainly lower class people, like Wezan, whose father had died a baker in the lower ring of the capitol, also known as the Harbour City – the place, where Rozan and his friends loved spending the evenings in some or the other shady tavern, where no one asked any questions who they were, as long as they paid their drinks and did not die in a brawl (making a mess to clean up for the innkeeper). So, yes, he liked to be with people from another class, he liked to spend time with them, talk to them, to dress up as one of them, no snobbism, no intrigues, and certainly no politics. It was so much easier with them than with his upper class childhood friends.

His hand clotted to a fist on the table, his amber eyes glowing with anger and contempt. Railja seemed to feel his fury, the seething volcano inside him, and she laid her soft little hand on his own, her deep grey eyes meeting his, cooling his temper off like real water. He nodded shortly into her direction, and managed to pull himself together once more and bow respectfully in his brother-in-law’s direction. When he looked away, he could suddenly see Katena’s expression, and was surprised to see her discomfort written all over her face. But as soon as their glances met, she smiled, seemingly all on her husband’s side, and nodded gracefully towards her younger brother.
That was when his mother rose from table and thereby declared breakfast to be over. They all stood up likewise, and Railja rescued Rozan with asking the others to excuse them, since she had some private matter to discuss with her Brother. As they left, Rozan could hear how Kensei murmured something about how impolite it was to leave your guests unattended, but this time he was shut off by Eleynja, who just shot another question back, if her attending was of so little importance to him?

Finally the two siblings were alone at the garden, and while they wandered the grounds, they tried to use their little spare time together as efficient as possible. Railja had been Rozan’s favourite, from the day she was born and he had held her for the first time – himself being a skinny six-year-old. And now, eighteen years later, she was the one to comfort him, hold his hand and calm him down.
It was always so easy with Railja, she chatted happily on her own, did not need him to interact with her, but Rozan knew she was just as fond of him listening as he was of her chatting. She was one of the few females he felt comfortable around, having inherited their mother’s endless kindness and endurance, combined with a sheer endless amount of inner strength and gumption. Marrying her off like her sisters seemed to be a total waste, and Rozan could not imagine any young man who would be worthy of her – her spirit, her laughter, her wisdom despite her young age, but also her sheer naivety.
“I missed you, awfully”, she said to him, while they wandered side by side. “I sometimes get the feeling you don’t come here as much as you used to do. I know of course you have your duties, and so on, but everybody just keeps disappearing, and they seldom come back. And when you all come back, you are at each other’s throats so quick that you don’t even get to sit down properly.”
Rozan sighed. “I am sorry, sis. I try to be here more often and come see you, I really do, but I am always…” – “… busy?” She snorted, and once more he was surprised how easily she could see through his façade. “Please, Rozan, you haven’t been busy for like ages. You just don’t like mum’s questions and you’re always afraid you could run into him. And maybe it is even me; I talk too much for your taste, right?”
He had listened silently to her speech, but now he just felt he had to interrupt her. “Don’t you EVER say that! In a thousand years, I could not run tired of your talking.” – “Yeah well, that’s what you SAY, but you never come to visit also.” Defensively he opened his mouth, but had to look for the right answer a few seconds. “That is SO not true! I am here tonight, am I not?” She frowned. “Don’t you think I know why you are here? You are here because mom came to your barrack and asked you in person to come and you are too scared of her to say no. You came because you felt obliged to, not because you WANTED to. I mean, I get you, he is constantly around, and he is not very nice – yesterday he called my hairstyle scandalous and said I could work behind the barracks in Harbour City, just because I wore my training robes and they had unbuttoned at the top… but you can’t let him take over your home. He is a really poor excuse for leaving us like that, and especially...” she swallowed, but then, very quietly, ended her sentence, “… and especially me.” Rozan gulped, he knew not what to answer, but he did not have to. “You know, there was a time when we could tell each other anything, but we never even talk any more. I talk, but we don’t… I don’t really say anything important, and neither do you, and I think you also don’t care to listen any more. And that is just FINE.” The shift in her voice told him how much it was not fine. “I see you are busy, you always are, brawling and drinking and making new friends that you won’t bring home and... and... and whoring. And you say it is because of him, but it really is because of all of us, isn’t it?” Her large, grey eyes pierced at his face, and he somehow got a funny feeling in his belly, as if he was about to faint. “Fine, don’t answer me. Trust me, I get it.”

They walked side by side in silence for a while, Rozan to stunned by her outbreak to actually know what to say – mainly because she somehow, creepily, had nailed it, had gotten to a point he himself was not aware of, but also because she knew all these things about his friends and leisure activities, things she at her young age should not know, and things mother would never have told her. Whoring, for the spirits' sake, where did she even get that word from?
Then, after some time, he said: “I promise I shall call on you more often, whenever I find the time”, but her snort told him she did not believe him – maybe because he had made that promise before and never kept it. Maybe also because he had neither denied nor justified the accusations she had brought forth, but he just didn't have it in him to lie to her on top of all that.
“Yeah, you just do that,” she murmured, and he could hear her disappointment. The good atmosphere between them was spoiled, the forenoon ruined.

They went back inside, and greeted their brothers Terzan and Verrail, who had just arrived after a longer trip to their mansion in the Fire Nation Colonies.
Together, they sat down and had lunch. Rozan learned that his sister Goralia could not make it, she was still at Ba Sing Se with her husband, as was their brother Nuran, who had accompanied them to see their new house. That was no surprise, Nuran and Goralia, being of almost the same age, had always been very close, and since Goralia’s marriage to the Earth Kingdom, they had had far too little time to spend with one another.
The atmosphere got better towards dinner, when all gathered around the fireplace, played paj sho or told each other what was new in their lives. Terzan told a humorous tale of how Verrail had met a new girl on Ember Island and how stupid he had behaved around her, a tale that delighted the round, making even Kensei and Rozan laugh at the same jokes. Then, when Kensei said he had to leave early in order to get some work done, but would be back later to pick Katena up, it was just like old times, most of the family together in one room, without outsiders, laughing and joking and narrating.
Rozan later on was asked some questions about his upcoming travel to the Element King’s palace, to accompany the Fire Lord and his family to the Seven Nation Summit, exciting his listeners and having to promise to tale them all he witnessed and experienced there later on.

After dinner, he led Katena outside, meeting Kensei again and handing his sister over to the elder’s protection. Then he strolled through the streets on his own, far too awake to go back to the barracks yet, and also too much in thought to actually think where he was going. His main problem was, that although it had been a merry day, full of surprises and family and even a nice evening without Kensei, he had not made up with Railja yet. She was the one whose opinion he really valued, and she was the one he literally had never had a fight with. All the past times when she had been disappointed because he showed up too little, all those times an appology and a muzzle through her hair had made everything fine again, but not this time. She became older, and by this, seemed also to lose her faith in his empty promises. The disappointment and hurt in her eyes just stuck in his head, and would not leave him be, a vivid image of her face was right in front of his eyes. And so his stroll carried him further on, without him realizing that his feet carried him a familiar way, to the lower town, where he usually would not go without company and certainly not in his costly garment.

Lahija

Lahija had grown up in the lower town of the capitol, knowing her way around both the grander streets and the smaller alleys. But despite this fact, she had never gone for a drink here. And so she soon found herself lost in the closely webbed net of lanes and alleyways, teashops, factories, taverns and barracks for the impoverished; unsure where to go next or which way to turn. Very unlike her, she abruptly chose a direction, wandering that way, and got into the next tavern on her path. She should regret her haste at once.

The tavern seemed to have just one room, filled with smoke, sailors and the filthy, sour stench of unwashed bodies and alcohol. Lahija curled her nose, but it was already too late, the first men had turned around and noticed her, and a sudden silence had befallen the place, the loud murmur had suddenly turned into a silence more appropriate in a temple than here.. She had but two choices: Get out as quick as possible and hope not to be followed, or step in and show them the strength of a member of the royal guards, should they dare to molest her.

Normally, she would probably have chosen the obvious, the first choice, avoiding trouble rather than creating some. But even the enduring Lieutenant could only take so much, and her level of forbearance had been gravely overstepped these few last days.

Her chin elongated with in a strong-willed way, she moved through the room, ignoring all the predatory stares at her slim, dainty, yet womanish body, and found herself a seat at the bar, as far away from the next guest as possible, her back directed towards the wall of this place, so that she was able to see all of the room with just one look, ready to meet everyone who dared approach her.
The barman was a young fellow, red-haired, green-eyed, with a strong earth-kingdom dialect, as far as Lahija could tell. He came over to her and leaned over the bar to get her order, as well as a good look at her face – and, as she suspected, not just her face. “Wha’ can I get ye?” he asked with a low voice, that echoed in her ears nonetheless because of the silence that still dominated the place. “Depends, what have you got?” she heard herself answer, far more chilled than she actually felt right now. “Any sort of legal alcohol that I get my hands on – and maybe even the one or the other extra treat”, he winked at her, but she did not wink back and with the same calm, earnest voice told him: “Double scotch, no water.”
He nodded, turning around and getting the bottle to fill her glass. “Tell me, wha’s driven a nice young lass like ye ou’ ‘ere ter catch a drink?” She suppressed a smile, took the glass, and emptied it in one big gulp. Although she was not too used to getting drunk, she handled it well she thought, maybe because she had braced herself for the worst. The scotch ran down her throat, burning in it and warming her inner chi up like a small fire in her heart. Not bad, not bad at all, she already felt better, less messed up than just seconds ago. “Get me another one.” she told him, and he refilled it, still waiting for her answer. “And no more questions. Just make sure it stays filled.”
He nodded again, and left her alone. Lahija took the next sip more carefully, screening her surroundings with care. The silence turned back into hushed conversations and murmur, the one or other laughter every now and then, but up to now, nobody had bothered her. She just hoped it would stay that way.

Railja Shang

The whole day had been torture. Railja had looked so much forward to this, to her brother Rozan finally coming again for a visit, to spending as much time with him as possible, maybe convince him to come by more often – he worked in the capitol, after all, it was not like with Verrain, who was stationed in the Dark Nation and had a difficult time getting admitted spare time, let alone coming home for a visit.
But then her mother got asked by Kensei what they were going to do this evening and her mother told him that Rozan was coming over. So Kensei decided, that he and his wife Katena – Railja’s oldest sister – would be coming, too, to get as much of the family together as possible.
The news that Terzan, the head of the family, had fulfilled his duties on Ember Island and met Verrain there, even convincing Verrain’s commander to let him go home with his brother for a short while and spend some time with his family, were not able to prevent her from feeling disappointment, feeling that now, when Kensei was coming, Rozan would surely not attend the family day, and even if he would, there would be a waspy atmosphere, as the two had never been able to stand each other.
But it had all worked out somehow, at first. Rozan had come over for breakfast, and endured Kensei’s taunting and her mother’s questions. And then she had ruined it all, she, who was usually the understanding one, the one who did not question his actions, his life, his friends. Not only had she snapped on her elder brother, she had yelled at him. She had basically told him that if it was up to her, he might as well get lost and stay lost.

During lunch she had stayed angry, full of resentment and hurt, but while the afternoon declined, her anger raged out slowly, and when finally started to fade away, being replaced by a strange sensation of numbness and exhaustion. She had no memory whatsoever about dinner, she had eaten mechanically, laughed at people’s jokes, pretended everything was fine.

Well, everything was NOT fine. SHE was not fine. She had tried to tell her brother something, but that was no longer who they were, what they did, at least it did no longer seem to be. All she had wanted to share with him was the previous afternoon, when her brother Terzan and her mother had called her down and had had a serious talk with her, a grown-up talk. A talk during which she had gotten the impression that although this was a grown up conversation, she was not seen as an equal partner in it, she was merely the recipient of decisions already made, the good little girl that had to behave and obey. The way it had always been and would always be. In the past and right now with her family, and soon – very soon – with her husband, which they would pick out for her at the ball they were going to give in her honour.

Railja knew she was supposed to be happy, excited, thrilled. A whole ball in her honour, she would get a new dress. A new fiancé and, finally, a new life. A life someone else had chosen for her in her best interest, as they assured her, like everything they did was in her best interest. She was so sick of them telling her this.

Yes, she had wanted to talk to Rozan about all this, he was the only one she could help would understand the turmoil inside her. But she had messed up. She had pushed him away when she needed him most, and now he was gone for good. He would come back eventually, like he always did, but he would no longer be HER Rozan, not really. As long as Railja could think back, it would always be the same – Rozan on the one side, the rest of the family on the other, and her in between, the only one who understood Rozan, did not judge him, and mutually, he was the only one in her life not to judge her. She had ruined it all, and it killed her inside.

She accompanied Kensei, Katena and Rozan to the main gate, but her usually so lifted spirits were down. “Oh, don’t be sad, little one; we will soon be over again. And you have that party to plan for, so you won’t grow bored in the meantime, right?” Railja did not go into the trouble to tell Kensei, that her mother did all the planning and that if anything, she was absolutely not looking forward to that party, that she was not at all grateful to be provided for so carefully. She smiled, and curtsied in the perfect manner she had been taught, and wished her sister and brother in law a pleasant evening and that they come home safely.
Then it was just her and Rozan, who had been as silent as her for most of the day. “What party?” he asked her, but she could tell he did not really care; all he wanted was to bridge the silent between them. “Oh, just some party mom is throwing, I am sure you’ll get an invitation.” She did not meet his eyes while lying, because she knew he would be able to tell. She had never been a good liar, actually she sucked at it. But he did not look at her either, so he noticed neither the sudden tremble in her voice nor the slight shift of stance, as she protectively folded her arms before her belly.

“Right, well, I should be going,” he murmured, and their eyes met shortly. For just one second it seemed as if he wanted to say something, she opened her mouth to say something to him herself – then –
“Railja, Sweetie, come on inside and close the door! You wouldn’t want to catch a cold, would you?”
She could feel Rozan’s tension, the moment was passed, the silence back in order. “Yes, mother!” she replied, wishing him a good home and getting back inside. Without another hesitation, he turned around and slowly walked down the flight of stairs, out on the street.
Railja closed the door, and leaned at it from the inside. Everything seemed to hurt, she wanted to cry, but she did not have it in her. Rozan and her had never fought, not like this, anyway.

“Don’t stand in that hallway forever, come back in, dear.” Sighing, Railja followed her mother’s voice into the parlour, sitting down next to her on the low couch, while her brothers, Terzan and Verrain, had been seated face-to-face with the ladies.
“It is most astonishing that you did not tell Rozan about your party, Railja,” her mother began casually, no sooner than she had sat down.
“How did you…” Railja’s mouth opened her mouth in surprise. How could her mother see right through her like that? “Well, it was not so hard to figure out. If you had told him, your brother would have made a huge fuss about it like he always does. Not that he would have gotten a say in the matter, but he tends to react in the most inappropriate ways.”
Railja lowered her eyes and looked at her hands that she had neatly folded in her lab. “So, why did you not tell him?” Railja felt her brothers’ gazes on them; they were merely watching the one-sided conversation, as baffled as she was. “As you said, mom, he always reacts irrational. I did not want to upset him; he can be overly protective of me.”
She did not dare lift her eyes up as she spoke, because then her mother would have directly seen through that lie. To her surprise, the matter was dropped after that, and the later evening was spent with discussing which nobles to invite and how much money to put in her dowry. From time to time Railja’s gaze went over to Verrain, and she got the impression that he was watching her more than he usually did, giving her a sad little smile when her mother was busy discussing something heatedly with Terzan, the oldest of her children and the Head of the House of Shang – and, besides, Railja’s guardian.

She sat there for some time in total silence, smiling and nodding when she was asked, or giving very short responses, but her neither her head nor her heart were in that parlour. Finally she got sent upstairs to her room, as her mother suspected she be tired from the long day and she did not want to disagree on her perfect excuse to finally get out of there, of that parlour, that cage. She already had the feeling to suffocate.
Up in her room, she bended a portion of the warm water a servant had brought for her to wash with cold, cooling her face and then opening her window wide, staring out over the garden. It was so peacefully outside, a warm summer’s evening, the moon was almost full and watched over her like a shield of pure silver. But Railja had no eye for the beauty of the night, not tonight, not after all that had happened. She had never before felt so lost, so confused and above all, so alone. Like she had not a single friend left in the world.

Lahija

The tavern door opened, and a tall, slender figure with dangerously broad shoulders stood in the frame, taking the room in for a moment with his eyes.
Lahija realized she had been sitting there for quite a while, the evening outside had turned into night, long shadows, flickering with torchlight, painted the dark figure in the frame of the door into some menacing, wavering shade.

Lahija realized something else. She was drunk. No, not drunk, she was three sheets to the wind, so to speak. She was wasted. And she was at the wrong place. This was not really her, this was stupid, and reckless, and emotional. She did not go to get drunk! She was a good person, a moral person, she did not do that, not ever. Drown her sorrows in scotch. What on earth had she been THINKING? Well, obviously, not very much.

She tried to get up, but then remembered she had to pay the piper, if she did not also want to break the law on top of being drunk the night before her first shift at the royal palace.
She fiddled her purse out, and put some silver on the bar. “Does that cover it?” she asked the red-hair, but he did not look at her. His eyes were linked to the newcomer, who came in with slow, cautious steps, and so Lahija looked at him more closely, too.
It was a young man of only few years more than she had, his black hair cut military short. Besides his very self-assured way of moving his trained body, that suggested he was an enemy she would rather not try to compete against, especially not in her current state, she realized that he was one thing that set him apart from all the scum in this tavern. He was well dressed; actually, he was extremely well dressed. Clearly upper-class, his tight, exactly fitting black trousers and the silken tunic of beautifully embroidered green silk must have been very expensive and he wore them with such ease that she figured he must have been used to that kind of clothing for quite some time. In his belt there stuck a dagger sheath with a weapon in it – a very expensive-looking, delicately crafted piece, more art than weapon, with a ruby in the hilt that had at least the size of a walnut.
The silver brooch that held his dark blue cloak together showed a polardog and a dragon in close embrace. Lahija had never been good at heraldry, but she knew that sigil, she had seen it in the upper ring before.

Whoever he was, he was definitely not supposed to be in here or even around here, and very, very unwise too. Was that guy begging to be robbed? If Lahija had shown up in this tavern with just some lace and silk on her, showing more of her body than actually hiding, she would still have had a lesser chance of being sexually harassed than he had of being beaten and robbed.

“Good evening, Javid,” the nobleman said, “be so good and get me something to drink, will you?” The barman was already filling a glass as if he knew what the foreigner wanted, but he looked really worried. Lahija sat close enough and was not minded by the two of them, so she could hear their silent conversation. “Rozan, what are you doing? You know that Curran was not too happy to see you the last time, and you come here, dressed like a… well… and without backup – man, I don’t want trouble in here, understood? Drink up and then get the spiritworld out of here!”
The man called Rozan snorted, but the bartender kept talking. “Seriously, man, I like your guys and you, you are very good customers, always pay your bill too, and after you tore the place apart the other night, you still had the spine to come back the next day and help me clean it up. But you are asking for trouble right now, and I don’t need any bodies in here, understood? Drink up and be gone.”

Lahija’s clouded mind cleared slowly, she realized what she was just hearing. This man meant trouble, no matter, who he was or why, he definitely meant trouble of some sort or the other.
“Get me some water,” she told the barkeep, and put another coin on the small stack before her. “And I hope that covers it.”
Javid nodded, gave her a large glass full of clear water that she downed, only to feel far better than before, and took her money. “That might cover it, aye,” he told her and left her alone again. Lahija stood up, in order to get the hell out of here. Her head, although she was still drunk, was far clearer than it had been all day. She was stupid and thoughtless, to be here, and it was about time she got it together and got out of here, before the trouble she had been begging for all evening actually found her.
But she should not make it to the door.

(( Hey, may I join in? I want to get started RPing on the site and this seems like a good place to start. Sorry I can't PM you, I haven't reached the posting limit to PM yet. Also, as a fair warning, I'm not the best at RPing. I am working on it though! ))

Rozan

Rozan was angry, deep inside he felt a fury rise that could only be cooled by breaking somebody’s nose. He stopped, and looked at his hands. They were shaking, trembling, and not because of cold, no, it was a warm summer’s night.
He needed a drink, and hopefully, someone to punch, to hurt, and to substitute his frustration on.

Oh, yes, he was looking for a stiff drink and some action. And he knew exactly the place where he would get the shit beaten out of him, and just for showing up there. His lousy, expensive dressing might help a bit, and as he had never really liked that silken tunic anyways, he was looking forward to throwing it out the next morning, when it would be no more than some rag.

The “Burnt Swordsman” was a pub close to the harbour in the lower ring of the Fire Nation Capitol, an address frequented by sailors as well as mercenaries. A place where Rozan and his friends went from time to time if they were really asking for trouble, as the “Burnt Swordsman” was also the main meeting place of the dominating gang in this area, Curran’s men. Rozan and his friends had had many a fight with Curran, since Wezan’s baby sister had been the girlfriend of Norrim, one of Curran’s best friends, and had been left when she got pregnant, what asked for revenge on the B*stard who had gotten her into trouble. Rozan had never even met the sister and had only had the opportunity to fight against Norrim in person once or twice, but who cared? Wezan was his friend, and Curran, as well as Norrim, was a scumbag. That was all he needed to know to help Wezan bring trouble right to Curran’s doorstep.

But tonight was not a vendetta for lost love and honour. Tonight was just him, needing a brawl so desperately that his need for it was only surpassed by the wish for a drink. Only a drink and some hitting and punching would get Kensei’s words out of his head, would get that dreadful evening out of his head. Rozan was not a fool and not kidding himself. If he survived tonight and woke up tomorrow in his own blood and spew, the memory of how Railja had looked at him would not be gone. But he had the chance to numb it, just for tonight, and this was what he was going to do.

When he entered the tavern, the usual clientele had already filled up the room, the air was thick with the usual smells and smoke, and as Rozan stepped forward to the bar, he could feel their eyes on him and especially his garment. When he went down to the lower town usually, he would wear peasant civil clothing to disguise his offspring, and he was very sure that no one in here had ever seen him like this in their lives. Well, the glitter would not last long anyway, not in a place like this, where you could get yourself killed for much less.

He ordered a drink, and got his usual, but also a fair warning by Javid, the barkeep. A nice young lad, who just got through somehow in order to support his sick mother, oh yes, Javid was a walking cliché.

He emptied his drink in just one gulp and noticed that the young woman, who had sat at the bar, headed for the exit, but did not pay her too much attention. She was not pretty enough to charm him into hitting on her, and he was not here to drink so much that her attractiveness wouldn’t matter to him anymore.

When the female had just passed Rozan, the door opened again, and Rozan could hear three men coming in at his back. The voice that spoke first was the one he had counted on. Curran, in person, and he was already wasted enough to jump at the slightest provocation.
“Well, well, where are we headed, lass?” – “As you can see, I was just about to leave.”
Rozan turned his head halfway in order to see what happened from the corner of his eye. Curran towered over the rather slim, almost dainty figure of the young woman, clearly closer as was comfortable for her, but the step backwards that she took was slowly, almost as if she were opposing a dangerous, wild animal. Her voice, however, was not the least scared, and she looked her opponent directly in the eye without provoking him. Even from behind it looked as if she were growing for a moment and Curran was shrinking, but then the tall man laughed and shook his head. “No, no, you must not leave before you had at least one drink with me.”
Rozan could not see her face, but her voice stayed perfectly calm, as if she had the most normal conversation in her life. “That is too generous of you, but I am sorry, I’ll have to decline that offer. You see, someone is waiting for me, and it would be most rude to keep them waiting.”
She tried to get herself past Curran, but she had underestimated his determination. Curran was not a man who would take no for an answer, and especially not when he was drunk enough to believe that woman was worth hunting. He grabbed her upper arm and held it while taking to her. Most conversations in the room had stopped, the sailors were looking to the strange pair, but Rozan knew from experience that they would do anything but help the woman. “Oh, for someone as pretty as you, I am sure waiting must be a pleasure. You will stay and have a drink with me, I insist.”

For a short second she fought his grip, then she suddenly stopped to struggle and turned around, allowing the bully to steer her towards the bar. Rozan caught the first clear look at her face and was surprised of her expression. Now that the man who had her arm in his grasp could no longer see it, it showed no fear whatsoever. There was rather a grim determination in those deep, grey eyes. They sent a very clear message. Don’t mess with me. Rozan was not sure what the girl was up to, but he was sure that she was not as harmless as she looked, and obviously not in any need of protection despite her desperate situation.

He turned back towards Javid, lowering his face and thereby avoiding to be recognized by Curran right away. All faces were turned towards the bully and what seemed to be his next mistress, so Rozan seemed to stay unharmed for a little while longer.

Felix was at the pinnacle of horror. Never in all his years has he seen such a vile, cruel, and inhospitable place. He clenched his teeth, and shifted endlessly in his chair. He couldn't believe the sight that was before him. Of all the places he had to land, he landed in a living nightmare. A retirement home. The green eyed spirit sat in the dull chair as he lat here in utter and complete irritation. As honest as he is tricky, Felix was in shear agony. The "man" thought to himself. "Why? Why? WHY!? Why did I have to land....here...of all places. These bag of bones are going to die any minute, what in the name of all that is righteous could bring me here!" He began to sink lower and lower into the armchair. For this "special" occasion, Felix decided to adopt a rather......bland appearance. His face was long and narrowed, like that of a withered hawk. His back was bent at an angle, and he limped around awkwardly with an unusual cane. His hair was snow white and wispy, for the little that remained on his scalp. He donned mere old and decrepit rags. He looked distastefully to his left. A pair of squabbling elders was in full swing. Both were equally ancient, and equally annoying. One began shouting, "Back in my day all we did for fun was play with sticks!" Felix thought to himself, "Oh if only I could put myself out of my misery with one right now." The other began rambling, "Eh!?!? That's nothing! When I was a boy all we had was rocks and a leaf!" Once again, Felix questioned why he was here in the first place. He looked up at the ceiling as if pleading with some unknown force, yet it yielded no response. He looked painfully to his right, and he saw a ghastly sight. A rather portly woman with an unquestionably large mole upon her lip was staring affectionately towards Felix. Again, the man looked upwards, and mouthed the words, "Why, why, why." Having had enough of this unruly hellhole, Felix drew forth a coin. [NOTE: This coin is unique to Felix. It has rather "magical" properties that determine whether his job is done in the area or not. The manner in which it works is simple. Felix shall flip the coin. If it lands upon the side of an intricately designed clover, his job is done and he can proceed to a new area that needs balance. If it lands upon the side of lone knight with his sword resting into the ground, and his head lowered into a submissive rest, his job has yet to be finished.] Felix rose to his feet, and began to hurry himself towards the nearest restroom. With his cane in one hand, and coin in the other, he was fully prepared to leave as quickly as possible. The two squabblers began to get into a rather humorous fist fight. With the fight ending before the two even landed a single punch.


He hastefully reached the restroom. With a click of the mechanism, he locked the door with a sigh of relief. With the coin in his hand, he began to mutter to himself. "Come on...come on.....heads....heads.....heads!" He flipped the coin quite hurriedly, yet it fell with serene grace. Clover side up. Felix drew forth a wide smile, and he looked up yet again, as if conversing with some strange entity, "Thank you." He whispered. After checking once more that he did indeed have all of his belongings, as he had no intentions of leaving the security of the room, he sighed with relief once more. Again came his muttering, "Come on....please please please oh please for the love life please be a bar." He snapped his fingers, and within a blink of an eye, he was gone.


To his pristine joy, he had landed at a bar. His hair was long now, scraggly and unkempt. He now fashioned a long beard that seemed to move with every step he took. His eyes, as always, remained their same green hue. With great joy and happiness within his heart, he quickly placed the coin back into his pocket. His attention was caught when he observed a rather suspicious moment. As members of the bar began to crowd and corner, only to disperse, Felix felt like lightening things up a bit. With swagger and casualness, the drunkard flopped himself down upon a stool. He whistled and clicked his teeth, "Yo, hey, bartender, next rounds are on me." He drew forth his money pouch, and spread out a few dozen gold pieces. His attention, not always focused on the same thing, was diverted once more. He caught the sight of a lonely group of men on the corner. They had instruments yet looked as if they would die from taking a single step. He pressed his finger against his lip for a moment before tossing the pouch at them. With a wink of his eye, and more swagger in his step, the drunkard felt relaxed. The men, with renewed vigor, rose, and began to play. Felix smiled and relaxed upon a nearby booth, as he watched for things to unfold.

NOTE: Music now being played https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIsV-IbR9NE

‘I’ve really done it this time, haven’t I?’ Chun thought apprehensively as she stared at the noisy bar across the road. She began to step towards the building, but quickly moved back, not sure if she really wanted to go in or not. It was probably the best option she’d have in this area of the city, being as every other place she’d been had broken out into a large brawl or wouldn’t let her in. By the time she found this bar, stars had already begun to decorate the sky. She normally wouldn’t have gone near this place, but she needed directions, and fast.

With one quick motion she moved to the door, slipping into the smoke filled room without a sound, constantly repeating ‘If I can make it through the lower ring, I can make it through a simple bar easily.’ The smell of the bar was terrible, wafts of sweat and smoke were bearable, but Chun could never stand the smell of alcohol. With any hope, she would get used the stench in time. The rest of the room wasn’t any better. The tables and chairs were worn out from heavy use, the wooden floor was creaking slightly, and the bar’s paint was beginning to chip off. At the very least, everything in the building was sound, which was a lot to say compared to the other places she had visited.

Sticking to the walls, she moved through the crowds of people, her body shrinking more and more as she passed. Thankfully, not many of the burly men showed interest in the sixteen year old; perhaps it was also because of the woman sitting down by the bar, taking in scotch as fast as she could. Moving to the bar, she sat down and waited for the bartender to come over to her. “Can I help ye’?” The man asked with a questioning look. “Oh, yes, please. I’m looking fo-“ Chun began in her usual nervous tone. “Wait a minute there, will ye’? I’ve got something to take care of...” Just as abruptly as she was interrupted by him, the bartender stepped off to a finely dressed man on the other end of the bar.

Chun gave a heavy sigh. ‘Well isn’t this just wonderful? I’ve managed to get myself lost and stuck in this lousy bar. Please just hurry up and come back over here! I just want to leave and get to a warm bed…’ Turning her head absent mindedly towards the door, she noticed a large man advancing on the woman who was previously at the bar. It looked as if Chun wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, being as the two were blocking the door. She would have tried to help, but along with being quite scared of the man, the woman he was advancing on seemed as if she could handle him herself. As the pair crossed to the bar, Chun sunk into the small stool she sat on, praying that she wouldn’t be noticed. It was clear that the man was drunk, which also meant that he would probably get tired of that girl quickly. All she could so was pray that she wouldn’t become his next target.