Day Off

[claira]

The day time seemed to be Claira's only refuge amidst the mess she would describe as life. There wasn't much contact with the world outside of Littlewood, and she often wondered where the village gathered it's supplies, and more importantly, how they even got there. Today was a rather sunny day, and the blond hoped that for once, she wouldn't feel eyes on the back of her head at every move she made. She hoped that by turning the corner, she wouldn't come face to face with another blood-sucker.

"Morning Claira!" It was Mighty Young, he owned a small farm. His animals are always getting stolen, or butchered. Or both, depending on who was having their fun. "Morning." Claira said with a simply smile, bypassing him as she carried on to her destination. Just what was her destination today? The vampires usually didn't want her out of their sight, but for some reason, she had began to work less and less. She knew they didn't trust her, they weren't stupid. Maybe they wanted to see what she would do if given the opportunity to act. She would have to lay low until she knew what they were up to.

"A bunch of apples for the lovely young miss?" A merchant spoke to her, and she respectfully declined. She may have had a tough exterior for those who deserved it, but not for her own kind, trying to make a living in this pitiful world. Some people didn't see the poverty they were living in, nor did they believe there was a world beyond the city walls. They were brainwashed beyond belief, almost the perfect prey. In Claira's eyes, the vampires were just too lazy to let the villagers free. Why bother, when you could have your meals just ready and waiting to go?

Slipping through the throng of people, Claira stopped at a buggy which held various beads and bangles. She could feel the old gypsy's eyes on her as she let her finger caress the cool metal. "How much is this?" She asked the lady, her eyes exuding only warmth. "A silver piece," the old lady said. Claira let the necklace drop back to it's stand, about to walk away. "It has magical powers you know!" The old bag exclaimed, and Claira grinned, "Then it should be worth more." She lay half a silver piece in the woman's hands, and took the necklace, it's tiny emerald gleamed expectantly in the sun.

Emeralds, commonly known to help travelers get to their destinations safely. That was the worth Claira saw in the stone, nothing more. She held it up to the sun, noticing that it barely went through the gem. She was pleased, it was a thickly cut piece, one that would work perfectly. Passing by more people, the woman made her way towards a vacant bench, sitting upon it gingerly. People watching, would be a good way to pass the time until something, or someone else, captured her attention.

[Aviar Montage]

It would be silly to waste the financial opportunity of a bustling market, as his father had always said. And even Lavren’s stall was doing well today, which just went to show that some people appreciated dried roots and dubious bags of mushrooms. Having never quite trusted his mother’s judgment after one particularly nasty bout of stomach pains, Aviar had always stayed clear of anything Lavren offered in the ways of food as well. After all, the spore doesn’t spread far from the fungus…

As for him? His business was doing pretty nicely too, whenever those fancy-clad folks decided to make an appearance. They didn’t appear to be rich, but obviously they must be in the service of the well-endowed, with how they spent their coin at his stall so freely. But he was not about to point that out, feeling that it was truly to everyone’s benefit if they bought him out. His specialty was jewelry, particularly the sparkly kind. The main problem was, he didn’t have nearly enough capitol yet to buy the real stuff in bundles…so it was mainly cut glass set into nice pieces of metal that couldn’t nearly compare to the value of real silver. However, there were a few things the gypsies had sold to him in the forest for a ridiculously low sum. And it was real, too…that was the stuff that the nicely-dressed bought. The cut glass was more to the liking of the villagers.

Some day, hopefully soon, he’d have enough money to replace all of the practically worthless stuff with things of real value. Already he had doubled his worth since arriving in Littlewood, though it didn’t make much sense. The place was damnably hard to get to, damnably hard to leave, and yet…the coin just kept flowing in, as if there was an endless source somewhere. It almost felt like a coastal town, but without the smell of fish rank in the air or clinging to his clothes (the very reason he’d decided NOT to do business by the sea, actually.)

His eyes roamed over the crowds until they settled upon a pretty lass. If women weren’t in the habit of getting him in trouble, which they inevitably did whether they wanted to or not…he’d certainly close the stall for a bit and introduce himself. Was that the girl who worked at the tavern? It must be. He’d remember that chest anywhere…and of course it was because of her clothes, nothing else. Aviar wasn’t a pervert! He was a gentleman, thank you very much.

“Care to add some earrings to that?” He called out to her, reasoning with himself that he was trying to do business, nothing more.

[claira]

A mother and her child passed, the little girl smiling sheepishly at Claira as they made their way into a dark alley. The blond smiled at them both, and secretly hoped that trouble wouldn’t find them on their walk. They could use an emerald... Maybe two... The young woman thought to herself. It was very hard for Claira to live normally, and not be suspicious and overly cautious. So many people in Littlewood seemed to do so. Was it better to be ignorant and uncaring and not watch your back? Or was it better to always be on guard and keep on living that way? Claira would never be able to compare.

“Care to add some earrings to that?” The girl’s head snapped in the direction she heard the voice. A rather feminine looking man was standing at a stall that had been across from the gypsy’s buggy where she had just bought her necklace. He couldn’t have been that great of a salesman, as if he were, he would have caught her attention a little sooner - at least before she had sat down. Still, Claira rose, a small smile on her face. At least talking to him would give her something to do, no matter how long that would last.

Approaching the man’s stall, Claira looked over his things, the earrings in particular. A quick glance told her that he had nothing worth buying, not unless he was hiding the more precious stones beneath his cart. Instead, she took to staring at the seller, trying to put her finger on who he was. She had been here her whole life, he certainly hadn’t. Certainly she had seen him around the village, and around the tavern. The blond usually paid more attention to those that seemed peculiar, than the ones who were busy getting drunk.

There didn’t seem to be anyone interested in his stall at the moment, so harassing him wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? “How is business in Littlewood going?” She asked, letting her fingertips rest on the stall. To cross her arms would make her look standoffish, not a great first impression. “I can’t see very many people wanting to buy your things when the gypsy on the other side is selling real emeralds.” She said, showing the blond haired man her new necklace which lay in her hand - she hadn’t put it on yet.

If he and she had anything in common, it was that they both saw the villagers as sometimes dimwitted, and easily fooled. What else would keep an entire population at the beck and call of the predators which surrounded them?

[Aviar Montage]

Aviar liked to think of himself as an expert salesman. And women were his specialty…at least in France. But this place was a quandary, to say the least. Their harsh language wasn’t nearly as persuasive as his flowery native tongue. How could he describe the flower of a lady’s skin coming into bloom with a simple bracelet engulfing the wrist, when saying it made the imagery sound more like he was clearing his throat? Ugly language, really. But what could one do but adapt?

“Business is very good.” He smiled, tossing his bangs back with a flash in his eyes. If only it was a little windy, that would give him an even more charming effect. Sometimes Aviar wondered how any woman could resist him? They must be incredibly strong creatures indeed. Practically nuns.

He allowed one hand to crawl across the counter and casually brushed her hand as he snatched up a pair of teardrop-shaped earrings. Aviar hoped he wasn’t shoveling the charm on too heavily, he wasn’t in the mood to have a girl at his heels begging to be wed (or at least ‘made an honest woman of’.)

Her remark about the gypsy caused him to pull back with a snort. “They buy from her out of pity. The woman’s practically at death’s door by the looks of it, and they just want to supply her family with a nice coffin. But most villagers don’t appreciate the value of a real treasure.” His eyes flicked up and down her figure, lingering on one particular spot before moving away. “And the best business I do is in the evening. That more than makes up for…the lack of interest during the daylight hours.” Aviar was no fool, he wouldn’t give up a financial opportunity when it knocked on his door. And evenings were BUSTLING with sales opportunities on market day. Mainly because there weren’t any other merchants out after about 6.

“Here, if you think my gems are worthless, give this one a nice long look. Genuine, you see. And look at that blue sparkle in the very center…you’ll only fine that with perfect emeralds…” He started the spiel, holding up the earrings as he spoke. They were actually real, though the blue sparkle was debatable.

[claira]

Giving the man a sly, almost sorry grin, Claira said “Glad to hear it”, and it finally came to her – she knew who this man was. The townsfolk spoke pretty highly of him. She remembered a night when Daniel Macentier strolled in to the tavern to show off the lovely piece he had bought for his fiancé. “And it was such a deal!” He went on saying. Claira had nodded along with the crowd, it was easier than trying to convince an oaf of a man that he had been conned. “Aviar is a most generous salesman,” the man went on to say, and Claira laughed behind the counter. ‘Generous’ and ‘salesman’ did not belong in the same sentence.

Judging others was almost a necessity, especially with the folks Claira dealt with on the day to day basis. That didn’t mean vampires alone. This Aviar, if it really was him, seemed peculiar in a non-threatening way. He just seemed out of place, almost too high-class for a village he sold his goods at. Now that his hair was out of his face, Claira found it strange that she couldn’t tell what the blonde’s true eye color was. Depending on how the sun hit them, they were blue, sometimes green. In the bar, they always seemed dark, dazed, and confused.

The feeling of his fingertips across her skin didn’t go unnoticed, but Claira didn’t flinch, she almost welcomed it. If going along with his sales pitch meant provoking a bit more of the man’s character from him, then she would feel more inclined to make a stronger opinion about him. She watched carefully as he reached for a set of earrings. At least he had good taste, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have lasted long in selling fine trinkets.

Smiling sportingly, Claira appreciated Aviar’s humour. “And by ‘they’, you mean me I assume.” She said, looking back at the old woman. She really wasn’t that old, just old enough to stay out of the vampire’s watchful gaze. They were vain creatures; they tended to stay away from the blood of the old. Only they would be able to explain blood and its expiry date. Turning her attention back to the salesman, completely missing his onceover, she almost felt sorry for him. It was really no surprise that he was getting business at that time, who his clients were, was up for debate.

“Most villagers can only afford the necessities, as I’m sure you can understand Aviar.” She said, trying to see if she indeed had the right information. Still, he either had to be really brave, or really ignorant to be selling on the streets when no one else was around to help him. Maybe she would parade down the market place more often at night, take some of the heat of an unknowing victim. It wouldn’t hurt her any, seeing as those that mattered already had their sights on her. Claira always wound up being trouble to be around.

Leaning closer to have a better look at the merchandise, Claira held her hand out, touching the earrings and the man’s hand which held them. He wasn’t a liar; the emeralds were indeed real, if not nearly identical in size and cut. “How did you come across such lovely gems?” She asked him, her dark brown eyes travelling from the earrings to the man’s intriguing eyes. A moment passed, and Claira’s smile only grew. Aviar wasn’t the only one who possessed some charm.

“I already have an emerald piece, I don’t really need another.” She said, moving back to scan the rest of his goodies. “Maybe something cheap will do after all.” Claira added, her voice lighthearted. It was nice to have a normal conversation with someone, even if that someone was only out for her money, and God only knew what else he could be after.

[Aviar Montage]

If his sister saw him acting like this, she would surely have set him back with a good scolding. They may have been twins, but she often acted like a mother in absentia. She greatly disapproved of his more than eager enjoyment of a pretty face, chest, rump, and liquor…the last part not having to do with features of women, but equally as dangerous given his history. The point was, there was a fine line between selling jewelry and shamelessly flirting.

“Ah, but your charity I’m sure is of a gracious nature. Theirs is obligation, mademoiselle. And lack of taste…obligation and lack of taste.” Aviar could definitely say he felt he had pulled in a prime target, without a doubt. Conversing with a salesman, when one is not eager to buy, is the first major mistake in pinching a penny.

Frankly, in his opinion, any woman older than his own mother was over-the-hill. Beyond that, they were worth their weight in grave dirt. Perhaps he should feel guilty, but most men felt just the same as he on the subject.

When she asked, Aviar could not help but give a flourish of his hand in the direction of the horizon. “Paris, of course. A more wondrous place the world does not know. It was with great reluctance that I departed from there with the tricks of my trade, and that particular set of earrings which had belonged to Isabella, the Countess of Armagnac, of whom I have been a close confidante. The poor dear is at death’s door, as I’m sure you know, and wished for me to see that these earrings fall into the possession of a woman who’s beauty is truly worthy of them. As you can imagine, it has been a great difficulty finding someone…” He trailed off, and allowed another smirk to slowly make it’s way upon his face..like an ant digging through a hill, from left to right.

“Indeed, I had almost given up hope. And now it seems almost a pity to part with them, but I am sure I shall find no other chance better than this. After all, they do suit.” If not, I’m sure that overly-talkative fat woman who runs the bakery will gladly buy them, greedy spendthrift that she is. And don‘t I wish there were more people like her in the world…

Now that he’d paused to take a breath, he pulled back a little. Appearing too eager would cut the game short, which was something his father had taught him at a very young age. If you spread the butter too thin, there’s no taste to the bread. If it’s too thick, there’s no bite to the butter…

When he wasn’t working, believe it or not, he wasn’t nearly such a snake. But one had to enter a mindset if one wanted to sell a certain amount of ‘precious items’, and considering the fact that Lavren was going to cut his drinking money if he didn’t…well…but then the woman’s reluctance to buy the earrings sent his heart plummeting into his stomach. After all that, nothing? Really? He thought he’d done quite well. The grin disappeared.

“If the young mistress wishes for something lighter, less attention, I understand, is quite reasonable. After all, I’m sure you have far too many suitors as it is. Now, if you’ll direct your attention to this-” Aviar slowly picked up a thin coil of silver bracelet, stylized like a vine, with polished stones running along it. “-It is not gaudy, nor so expensive that the eyes would be drawn needlessly towards it. Just the thing for a young working girl.” Suddenly, now that he knew her purse was probably lighter than expected…the nice bits he’d been taking into consideration on her before only brought to mind that ‘he’d seen better’.

[claira]

Claira simply shrugged at Aviar's comment at her lack of taste. It would take more than that to send her off in a tiff. "I don't often buy jewelry for the sake of buying jewelry." She said simply, not bothering to explain herself. There was no point in encumbering oneself with heavy weights when they're weren't required. The purpose of the necklace, was that it would protect her, the fact that it looked pretty, just made people who happened upon Claira, think she was some kind of ditzy blond, which was fine by her. The element of surprise was always preferred over any other, it was the most powerful and least used. Brute strength didn't always win.

As for being obliged to buy from a gypsy... That was up for debate. "At least the old woman didn't holler at me to take a look at her things," Claira added tastefully. Clearly she wasn't going to buy anything expensive from the pixie-like man. Certainly he knew that by now.

His ramblings about Paris didn't affect her opinion on the earrings, nor was she swayed by how he went on about her beauty. Without being too conceded, Claira was aware that she was one of the few young women that didn't look too homely. She had been blessed with good looks. "That's really very kind of you to notice my worth, but I'd like to think that I don't need to buy your earrings to continue proving that," she said with a smile and a shrug. It was really too bad that his 'tricks' weren't working on her. Perhaps someone from the Court would come by later, and whisk the earrings away in a heartbeat - if they had one. "Do keep your hopes up though, I'm sure that's what has kept business coming back to you." She said with a knowing grin. If Aviar was as flirtatious with every customer as he had been with her, it really was no wonder that he was doing good business in Littlewood. There were many a slob looking for love.

Claira held back a laugh at the word 'suitors'. More like crazy, drunken roughians at the tavern every night. The amount of times she had been proposed to while working was countless. The amount of times a proposal had been serious... was none. Maybe one day she would have a suitor, as Aviar put it. Her eyes fluttered over to the silver bracelet and she stepped forward, letting her fingers touch the metal. Claira was a human that always needed to embrace the things she was around. Whether that be the earthy ground on her bare feet, the rough bark of a tree, or a man's skin, things always spoke to her when she touched them.

"It is also rather petite," she said after he had spoken, letting go of the piece. Her voice wasn't condescending, she was actually thinking about making a purchase. It hadn't been her intention, but her eyes lit up into a smile at the same time as her mouth. "I guess you are quite the salesman," Claira readily admitted with a sigh. "How much then?" She asked, catching the man's gaze. If any eyes had been on her other than his, she hadn't noticed.

[Aviar Montage]

“I’m quite sure you don’t. But my fare is not for the sort who flit from thought to thought. No, these are not the mere trinkets of fancies. They remain with my customers for years to come.” He straightened up as he spoke, dusting off a bit of lint clinging to his sleeve. He was in fine form today, if he did say so himself. Nothing was more appealing than a man in his best attire, which Aviar specifically reserved for market day. Wine-colored doublet, black jerkin, and matching hose and cap…the very model of a prosperous merchant. No one need know most of his ‘prosperity’ went into clothes, drink, and supplies…

“And do not mistake me either, mademoiselle…I never indulge in the purchase of something I do not absolutely need, so I should not dare to advise you do otherwise.” In his own opinion, that statement was quite true. The remark about hollering slipped past him easily. What merchant didn’t shout out to get the attention of customers, other than a senile old gypsy?

“Of course you need not prove to me, nor anyone else that your worth is great. But, since you are worth so much, why not buy something nice for yourself once in awhile?” He quirked an eyebrow, picking the bracelet up again and firmly setting it in her hand. “Those who are granted with fortune such as I, do not need to hope. Indeed, seeing such a lass as yourself even cast me a look is more than any man could hope for.” Aviar gave her a wink, not entirely part of his sales pitch…but mostly.

Bargaining aside, this girl was turning out to be as swarthy as the worst fishwife. And he should know, having dealt with them plenty of times. They sported looks in youth, which were worn away quickly by children and heavy labor. Once past their prime, they became loud and truly difficult to make decent any sell. Taking her into consideration, Aviar could almost picture her hair fading, her face a bit more drawn…other features not quite as perky…

Ah, finally! There was nothing he liked more than getting past the flowery talk and straight to business. “For you, since you have so charmed me…I will cut the price down greatly, and sell this for a mere two silver coins. Though if I were to do so with every customer, I should hardly make a proper living. I ask only that you keep this to yourself, so others do not bang at my door demanding such low prices.” It WAS rather true, in a manner of speaking...usually he over-priced his objects by four times their value, rather than two.

[claira]

"It matters not how long they last," she said, watching as he brushed himself off. He really did think he was better than everyone else in this village. "I simply don't see the point in wasting money on things I already have that are still perfectly useful." Her own attire was a testamant to that. She was by no means dressed in a ragedy fashion, but her clothes weren't the most expensive. If she could actually choose what she did with her life, she wouldn't be here to show them off to begin with.

Claira's blonde hair cascaded down her bare, shapely shoulders, and onto her bossum, where a white peasants shirt, short sleeved, accentuated her body. On top of this, a jade colored, form fitting corset fit on top, pushing her body in all the right places, so as to show it off even more. It was the clothing of the time, and rather comfortable - once you got used to it. A simple brown skirt adorned her body from the waist down and finally gave way to pointed closed shoes. Still, the colors were a bit faded, and not as luxurious as they once had been; yet she was no less stunning.

Now Aviar was reversing his tactics, playing 'salesman' no longer. Claira smiled as her slender fingers wrapped around the bracelet. Nice things, were almost non-existant in Littlewood. One corner of her smile lifted a little higher than the other at the man's wink. He was quite the devil, wasn't he? Waiting to hear the price, she held her smile. "I wasn't trying to charm you, I think you could recognize that." She said, slipping the bracelet onto her bare wrist, and pushing it up on to her forearm. He would know about charming people, it was almost his business.

No longer wishing to talk to the man, Claira decided he was almost too boring. Too easy to pinpoint, no danger to him at all. Just another handsome face. She could probably beat him in a bar fight... Not that she had ever participated in any... Digging in her pockets, the blond fingered two siler coins and held Aviar's eyes for a moment longer. He hadn't even asked her name, clearly this was strcitly business. "Here you are then, a quarter of my tip money from last night," she said, putting the pieces of livlihood into the man's hand. Her fingers lingered no longer than they had to.

"I might stop by later," she said, forcing a grin as she took a couple steps back from his stall, "see how business is going." If he took it as her hitting on him, so be it. She couldn't very well continue lingering, it would be rude and intrusive. The vampires would be here later, and she would see just exactly how "well" they treated him. A pretty face like his wouldn't last long.

[Aviar Montage]

He blinked, absolutely shocked. She hadn’t even tried to haggle! What decent future-fishwife didn’t haggle with a merchant? It just wasn’t how things were done. First, the speech, then the disagreement, then the price, then the haggling…that’s how a man always does his business! And here this barmaid was, just buying the bracelet without so much as a ‘maybe it should be cheaper’ remark? Aviar almost felt cheated. His favorite part of selling was debating…he felt deprived.

And just like that, it was over. “Wait-” Aviar quickly chirped, leaning forward slightly. “-I didn’t catch your name. After all…” Why was he asking? Aviar shrugged to himself mentally, he wasn’t entirely about business. In fact, once he met his daily quota, he’d be anything but. “…I must tell the Countess of Armagnac about the girl who turned down her earrings.” And tell my sister to ask you about the bracelet. It was common practice for Lavren and Aviar to trade favors in their business, and one of the best ways to encourage future customers was for others to admire what they’d purchased.

Mind you, anyone with half a brain would be able to see the similarities between the blonde-haired twins, but only if they were looking. It’s completely normal for more than one person in a village to have short blonde hair, almond-shaped eyes, and a desperate craving for income.

Just then, a small pile of rags nearby began to shuffle through the market stalls. It had been standing nearby for quite some time out of the corner of Aviar’s eyes, and he had thought it nothing but dirty laundry. But now it was approaching, and he began to define features under the tatters. A dirty little girl with a grubby face. He’d seen plenty of them before, so dismissed her.

However, it wasn’t so easy to do when she rushed forward and snatched a handful of rings from his table, and then dashed off through the crowd. Aviar looked after her, surprised. He hadn’t been expecting that…

That’s less than five silver’s worth of glass. She probably needed it more than me… He mused, deciding not to make a noise. It if had been more than one, maybe it would have alarmed him more. Because that would have been ten silver's worth, and not something to laugh at.

[claira]

About to take a few more steps and walk away, it seemed as though Aviar had read her mind, and he seemed to be grasping at straws for a reason to haggle her name out of her. Typical, he han't been able to haggle a price with Claira, so now he was looking for her name. Any reason, she supposed, to win the 'battle' of the Marketplace. "You be sure to tell the lovely Countess that a simple barmaid, who is not worth the trouble of knowing, was not won over." She said with a small smile. Claira wasn't fishing for compliments. Maybe she would tell him who she was later, and maybe not. For his sake, it was better that he didn't know, just incase the enemy got a little too close.

A breeze swept through the stalls, and the blond could feel it playing with the ends of her skirt. There was a mad collection of rags rushing through the stalls, followed by a small girl. Claira's sharp eyes didn't miss what she took, but Aviar seemed unmoved as his things were stolen. Without a word, Claira went after the girl, who had merely hid behind the next stall, carefully looking at the many colors of the objects she had stolen. Claira wasn't always on patrol like this, but she felt that if the youngster thought she could get away with the small things, who knew what she would try to steal next.

The small girl's eyes grew wide as Claira kneeled down in front of her. She didn't run away though, probably because she recognized Claira, she just knew she had been caught. "Lyla, that was a horrible thing to do." The blond said, holding her hand out to the girl. "You need to pay for those before taking them." She said, dropping a piece of silver into the young girl's hand. She watched as Lyla's eyes grew wider. Claira nodded at the girl's smile, "Go pay the man, and don't steal ever again." She said, watching the girl run back to the stall.

Standing up straight, the wind continued to play with Caira's hair as she crossed her arms in front of her, watching the small brunette put the piece of silver on Aviar's cart, only to run in the opposite direction. Claira chuckled at the young girl's embarassment. She wasn't out to impress anyone with her kindness, she had done it subconsciouly. Her behaviour matched her attitudes, and she wanted to keep what little good was left in this world, good.

Looking at Aviar from where she stood, she wondered if there was anything left to say. "Take care Aviar." She said, the wind carrying her voice to his stall. Perhaps they would meet again, and perhaps not. Time would tell.