One and the Same [Sinistrari & Cataphractoi]

“I’m glad.” The Gerudo purred in reply, a satisfied curl of her lips gleaming her teeth through the soft pink of her veil. She wasn’t usually one to prey on her own sex like this, for countless reasons, but she had to admit…Abigail did look adorable all flustered up like that! It made her want to tease her even more. No matter how fierce a blush she managed, Datura feared it’d never truly be enough to quench her thirst. Unfortunate perhaps, but of no real worry.

Smooth and sly, Datura entwined their fingers and began to lead her acquaintance to the next part of their date. She paid closer attention to the Sheikah’s own pace this time, purposefully taking care not to rush her or drag her back and instead favouring as much close proximity to her side as possible.

“So then…cake? Or wine?” The Gerudo inquired out loud. She seemed to be mulling over her own answer to the questions when an alternative flashed in her eyes and she really couldn’t resist… So she inclined her head to one side and with a predatory narrow of her suggestive gaze whispered, “Or lingerie? I am running low.”

Honestly, this was so fun it was probably illegal.

Abigail found herself silently relieved at the Gerudo woman's pace this time. She had no trouble keeping up now, even with her short stride. Her proximity, on the other hand, was doing a good job of making up for that fact. It was almost as hard to think now as when they were running!

Get yourself together, Abigail. You are no longer a schoolgirl excited for her first date. Act you age.

"Cake," Abigail said emphatically. Much as she would prefer the wine, she really did not need more alcohol after last night. She had just replaced her shoes for goodness sake! She refused to dignify the other suggestion with a response. Clearly Datura was trying to push her buttons and crap she felt the blush coming on anyway. Abigail cleared her throat.

"You know my profession, but I do not believe you have shared yours. What line of work are you in? Are you a resident of Castle Town, or a visitor?"

"I dare say I'm not a resident of anywhere really." Datura confessed with a bittersweet smile, eyes glazed and withdrawn despite the dimples in her cheeks. She tried to hide her weakness with a flair of an over-dramatic sigh shortly after but neither of the women were fools. Nonetheless the Gerudo favoured blissful ignorance and decided to just believe that the little chip in her composure had been iced over nicely.

It was odd really. She always thought she was having a spectacular time out and about pursuing her hearts desires with endless travels, yet...whenever anyone mentioned the word 'home' or even so much as just touched on the subject it was hard to ignore the sting. She missed it: whatever it was. The Forsaken Fortress had never felt like a home - she never belonged there amongst those wretches - yet a girl was allowed to fantasize. She could imagine the warmth that people must so often feel flourish in their chests when speaking of good, old 'home'. It was just a shame that her own homesickness could never be healed.

"As for my profession," you wouldn't like the real answer so I'll just settle with the usual: "I'm a performer. I dance and sing at least every other night and day to make a living. I like to travel a lot and my tastes aren't exactly cheap either, I confess, so it can be tough but..." A dazzling smile charmed her lips and excitement promptly sparkled in her eyes. "It's fun. Very much so. I can't stand staying cooped up in one place for too long. And a little excitement and challenge is healthy."

Before she got too caught up in the joys of talking about herself however, Datura's gaze fell back onto her captured companion, locked firmly in her hold. The shared warmth was comfortable. It was incredibly pleasant to share her time with a woman like Abigail, yet she couldn't help but notice just how supple her muscles were. Her physique wasn't quite like that of the others in her profession at all. In fact, intelligent and sharp attitude aside, it was difficult to imagine the albino lady working side-by-side or managing to hold her own amongst the more...rough folk. Castle Town's guard seemed to fall into mainly two classes: the wimpy, snivelling or boasting sort who had nowhere else to go, and the brutally stern types with justice as their blood. Or at least, that was her experience with them, and Abigail didn't fit in with either!

"I don't mean this the wrong way and I hate to pry but...what exactly is it that you do in the guard? You don't seem like the average soldier."

A performer? Yes. Abigail could see it now, although she wondered what sort of venue Datura typically performed in. She hadn't been terribly specific, and the stated frequency of her shows combined with her traveling didn't mesh with an establishment setting. A street performer, perhaps. Hardly uncommon, but it did not strike her as a well paying job. Still, she supposed, Datura could well be part of a traveling troupe of performers.

"An army is not composed solely of warriors or simple foot soldiers. Combat formations typically contain auxiliaries as well, often in the form of cavalry, archers, mages, and engineers. These forces do not participate in peace keeping operations, and are generally poised outside the public eye. I am not a member of the Castle Guard, however, and am not a soldier," Abigail explained carefully. Most of this was common knowledge, but she knew enough and had been affiliated with the Royal Guard enough that more secret bits of information might easily slip out were she not careful. Things that seemed obvious to her might not be available to the public, after all.

"You guessed earlier that I was in fact a member of the Royal Guard. We are under the direct command of the royal family, and stand outside the Castle Guard's chain of command. Our duties are more fluid and determined by need. I personally serve as a field agent and see to the crown's business outside the capital. When I require the assistance of a soldier, one may be assigned, or I may be given clearance to hire outside help."

Abigail reviewed that information mentally, confirming that none of it was privileged information. It was even all true, for that matter, although certain details had been omitted, such as the internal structure of the Royal Guard and any other possible duties they might serve in.

Well, this is a very informative response! Datura observed as a silent laugh danced across her lips. The painted mouth gleamed wide and open as the albino so fluently settled into her apparent comfort zone with all the educational rhythm of a professional, and the Gerudo happily obliged in letting it sail her away.

It wasn't that she couldn't keep up but rather that she chose not to: at least not all of the time, as her attention was captured elsewhere you see - and no, not like that! So though she most certainly appeared to be listening to Abigail with fixed intent, Datura was instead occupied with observing: for the dutifully passionate and wonderfully educated always held such a captivating and mystifying air about them. There was just something about them that drew Datura in to wonder and poke at with almost childish fascination, that admittedly at times hovered on the border of sadism as she bent and twisted the poor victims in vain attempts to understand how their minds ticked. Besides, she wasn't here for a lesson - that would be terribly dull - and the people themselves were so often far more interesting than whatever nonsense or wisdom they spouted. Just look at those expressions! From the careful press of her lips and thoughtful hardening of Abigail's brow - as she seemed to analyse her own words - the dancer discovered a most entertaining charm that stirred every ounce of devious intent she possessed, and that was a lot.

So she stared and stared, her golden eyes lingering on her captured companion throughout her fluent explanation. She took care to make sure the woman had completely finished with a timed pause before chiming up with the simple statement of, "Well, a field agent doesn't sound at all that bad. Honestly I can never understand how half of the people here never go mad with boredom, whether they're trapped here with or against their will. At least you have some freedom!"

It wasn't all just small-talk to fill the form of a polite response, Datura was in fact viewing Abigail's position from different angles with slow, slight nods to herself. To be sure, her new friend could be a in a much worse position. Well, in my eyes anyway.

The Gerudo allowed her own curiosity to simmer away for a few moments as they strolled arm-in-arm down the cobbled streets at a languid pace. It was only once the threat of actually entering the patisserie's café became a very soon-to-be truth, full of distractions and likely accidental subject changes, that Datura quickly questioned away before she lost the chance, "But are you happy? With your position I mean."

"Freedom is a matter of perspective. Were I reassigned to a stationary posting I would have ample time to commit towards research and enchanting, after all. Magic is a very broad field with infinite possibilities, but significant time is needed to make any progress towards its expansion. I spend little enough time at home that my facilities and materials are sub-par for serious work." Abigail shrugged. Truthfully, she currently had little interest in pursuing research opportunities anyway, but it was a consideration to keep in mind. One day she did hope to earn an assignment in the castle, and knowing where she might begin would be helpful at such a time.

Abigail was silent for a moment as they entered the cafe. Was she happy with her position? A difficult question, in truth. Technically her happiness was irrelevant. Work was work; duty was duty. It kept her fed, and it kept her nation secure: those were the most important factors of her job. And it was not for her to question the directives of her superiors. She happened to be the correct tool for the job, and so she was assigned appropriately.

But she had been raised on tenants of service to King and Country, and currently she only fulfilled one of those roles. Granted, indirect service was the only way most would ever serve. But she had always been intended for the Royal Guard. Taught that she would serve her masters directly; protect those she owed loyalty directly. Yet...she had laid eyes upon her liege only on the day of her commissioning.

"No," she said at last," I am not. I am a Guard that guards nothing. Where others defend the royal family I so dutifully serve, I instead see to their interests outside Castle Town. This is what they require of me, and so I do so, yet it is not what I signed up for. Nor what I was trained to do."

A wordy response: of course. Datura was left baffled, once again, by Abigail's...eloquence. She had such a peculiar grasp on language that the Gerudo wasn't entirely sure whether to think of her as an absolute snob or a complete genius. Educated wisdom was woven into everything that left the albino's lips. There were no mistakes. No heavy accents. No contractions. She'd probably make a fine politician or worse yet a professor: the Gerudo practically quivered with dread at the mere thought of classrooms. Datura felt small, but she admired the woman as much as she felt bitter with chafed pride.

But then Abigail took her by surprise. She faltered. And as they both sat down at a beautifully engraved, white table on the cafe's balcony Datura noticed a swift change in the woman's tone: uncertainty? Disappointment? The Gerudo waved for a waitress to bring them two slices of their best cakes while the words sank in.

"Then leave." She stated simply, unable to understand the possible complexity of Abigail's situation. Her own selfish desires had always been the main drive of her life. It was easy for her to just simply do whatever she wanted. "If you didn't get what you wanted then leave.

"Or tell them what you want and get it."

Abigail went wide eyed at Datura's suggestion.

"Unthinkable! I have known nothing else except the Guard. I was raised for it. My duty compels me to follow any orders I receive. My loyalty to the crown requires I perform any task given to the best of my capabilities. To question the chain of command means to question the king, yet he has made no action which might cause me to doubt his judgement." Abigail spoke more fluently and with a heightened voice for a moment, then caught herself and pushed the outburst down, her face reddening noticeably in embarrassment.

A waiter appeared, and Abigail silently indicated which menu option she desired. The waiter looked to Datura.

(sorry short post is short)

It was difficult not to laugh. So difficult. Incredibly difficult. Datura had actually taken to the somewhat extreme measure of nipping her teeth down around the knuckle of a fist while the chuckles trembled silently in her chest. Her narrowed eyes glowed with mirth, and she too felt a fierce warmth dash across her cheeks: though for an entirely different reason.

She was so cute. For all her sometimes even daunting eloquence and vast vocabulary, she had such an adorable side to her when you pressed the right buttons.

Ha.

"Sorry." Datura manged through her dazzling grin, when she'd managed to find her breath again. It was difficult to show any true earnestness with a voice still shaking with humour however.

"I didn't mean to-...well, I'm not sure what to say really." Her lips pursed inwards and her eyebrows elevated. The most polite reaction would probably be to look away, change subjects and give the poor, albino woman a chance to forget her fiercely patriotic outburst but...well, this Gerudo wasn't really one for such self-restraint: the sight before her was far too entertaining to turn away from. So she drank it in, deep and in full: startled onlookers only just returning back to their hot beverages and hushed conversations.

But then the waiter had to go and distract her, darn it. Though at least he was rather yummy-looking himself. Datura forgave him. Partially.

"Me?" The Gerudo mused: but she wasn't so much as even looking at the menu. Instead she leaned her chin forwards onto the back of her hand and smiled sweetly - but not so innocently - up at the unsuspecting soul. From her crossed, scandalously clad legs one of her feet was....er....wandering. "What do you suggest?"

"Eh-em-...well, you see our s-s-strawberry cheesecake w-w-w-with caramelizedcrunchtopping-isaebeseller." Ha! He's blushing!

Datura feigned a heavy, bitterly disappointing sigh. "Sound mundane." She complained.

"T-T-then....how abou-"

"How about something else." Datura interrupted. "Something...that you don't usually serve during working hours, perhaps?" She paused. Debated something. And then with a devious, chiming laugh at some private joke corrected herself, "Well, I suppose you could during working hours too."

"Ma'm!" The waiter exclaimed as ripe as a tomato: it was rather incredible really. "This is s-s-sexual harassment!"

"Ah. But...You haven't moved?" She glanced slyly down at her foot and his legs, at which he hastily recoiled and fled, speechless and stumping his toe on the desert counter before managing to escape into the kitchen and mark the Gerudo down as having the same as Abigail.

Datura watched him leave with anything but disappointment. "Serves him right." She at last explained, grinning from ear to ear. "We were having a conversation.

"Now where were we...ah, yes! The King and your duty! If you really see no other option than sure, stay as you are, but surely it wouldn't hurt to at least inquire about what you truly desire?"



(OoC: haha, no worries! It is all just conversation now, though I'm not sure where this massive wall of text of mine came from! Oops.)

As Datura harassed the poor waiter, Abigail did her best to look anywhere else. She was embarrassed by association, but there was little she might actually do, so instead she simply attempted not to acknowledge it was happening. She rested her jaw on one hand to hide her expression and, well, thought about enchanting. Literally- her mind returned to the shop from earlier and began assembling a design in her head.

The frame would need to be custom made. Given some time she could build it herself, though. The lenses would be more difficult, both to obtain and to properly shape. More complicated was the mechanism allowing her to toggle them, which would likely make the entire contraption quite a bit bulkier, but there was no-

Abigail jumped several centimeters off her chair when Datura suddenly spoke to her again. Well, no hiding that one. She decided not to even attempt playing it off. She had zoned out entirely- although, yes, with good reason- and Datura's words had brought her attention back rather roughly. The only real option was to just not even mention it.

"That is certainly an option," Abigail responded slowly, formulating the rest of her reply as she spoke. "However, I hesitate to venture there. Such temerity is rather frowned upon in a highly regimented organization such as mine. My superiors retain records for each agent which are called upon if and when the possibility of promotion or reassignment is raised amongst them. Were I to merely request a promotion, the event would likely find its way into said record, and potentially count against me in the future."

She sighed and shook her head.

"In any event, I will likely opt to redouble my efforts and outshine my peers. Were it to become clear my own competence outweighs theirs, I would of course have a far increased potential to rise in the ranks." Abigail cocked her head to the side and looked at Datura intently. "I suppose our careers are too different entirely for true comprehension. My experience lies mostly in strict hierarchy and established practice, whereas your own leans towards freedom and improvisation. What works in one field may not apply to the other."

(So apparently all I needed to do for my writer's block was play my Homestuck playlist and start writing. Noted for the future!)

"Aptly put." Datura agreed with dimpled humour in her cheeks.

"But that doesn't go to say we can't learn a thing or two from each other! I, for one, would be intrigued to broaden my vocabulary as you have done. You speak like a well-established scholar while the closest I've ever got to one of those is-... well," Her parted lips paused before they pursed. In a sudden flash the heavy aromas and rustling silks of that hot, summer's night in the brothel appeared before her eyes, and they crinkled with contented mirth. She spared a moment to laugh quietly to herself and raise a hand to her mouth to feign embarrassment. She was flushed, for sure, though perhaps not for the right reasons. "Well, very close, I suppose."

With a prompt clear of her throat, Datura hastily continued, "But regardless, there's nothing wrong with giving into temptations occasionally: oppositions attract and all of that."

Seizing the opportunity and hoping to catch the young woman off guard, the Gerudo swiftly reached across the table and pressed both of Abigail's hands in her own. "We will meet again, won't we?" She leaned in, eager and looking suitably expectant enough to make anyone think twice about denying her.



(((OoC: I'm slowly chipping away at my own writer's block too! I apologise for the wait. I suppose it's almost time to wrap this thread up though?)))

"Assuredly so," Abigail replied a little too quickly. Truthfully, Datura was trying a little harder than she really needed to, but perhaps she was simply used to more difficult, well, prey. "Although arranging such may be rather difficult given our equally transitory forms of employment. I return to Castle Town only but rarely, you see, and typically only to receive my next assignment or a meager pair of days off duty."

Abigail paused a moment to give thought to the problem. She really needed to acquire some sort of long-ranged communication device, both for personal and professional reasons. A Commshell, perhaps, or maybe the Breeze Whisper spell. In the meantime...

"I suppose we might simply exchange addresses. Not a perfect solution, true, but we could check in on occasions when we are in town to see if anyone is home. More efficient means may present themselves in time, or perhaps you possess a superior means to solve the problem?"

((Annnnnnnnnd I let it sit for ANOTHER MONTH. Goddamn it Cat.))
((Editing in my rewards:
Current: 4 rupees
Quest+Outfitter: 56
Total: 60 rupees + 55 rupees in the reserve = 115 rupees

Hawkeye: 10 rupees
Lens of Truth: 15 rupees
Lens of Agony: 15 rupees
Outfitter Level 4: 40 rupees
Total: 80 rupees

115-80=0 rupees + 35 in reserve))

The mention of addresses quirked a frown across Datura’s brow: technically she was homeless. Having spent so much of her life travelling she had never once felt the desire to settle down somewhere, not long enough to live anywhere but in a rented inn room, and certainly nowhere permanent. While living life on such a fine edge had its many advantages of freedom, it was at times like these she was forced to consider the less sparkly aspects of the choice.

No address. Both busy women. No other form of communication. Exactly how were they meant to keep in contact!

The Gerudo pursed her lips with troubled thought, her grasp upon Abigail’s two hands loosened but not abandoned. Perhaps this was a game for fate to play? She often visited Castle Town, and had a habit of performing here longer than in other parts of the Kingdom, so it wasn’t as if it would be impossible to find the woman again. ...Right?

But did she really care so little to leave it up to chance? They might never meet again otherwise.

“I will seek you out,” Datura decided. After a decisive nod of her head she gleamed an assuring smile. “Unfortunately I have no permanent residence myself, being a travelling performer, but if you can pass me your address we can at least exchange letters perhaps? Maybe arrange to meet up again through that?”

As she spoke her attention drifted, one hand nabbing a paper napkin from the cafe’s table while the other scrambled for some sort of writing instrument. “Here.” She offered, sliding both across the polished wood: a pencil borrowed from a couple sat behind them.

“It may be somewhat difficult, but we’ll meet again, I assure it.” Datura grinned, eyes sparkling.